#i drew this real quick this morning

[galaxyhanart]

don’t mind me i’m just having a hajime hinata moment (and subsequently an izuru moment)

[shatterthefragments]

I’m becoming who I’m meant to be, slowly.

I’m inhabiting my body as a home as I make it such that it is a home for me.

💖😌✨

Also it’s a lovely studio! Masks required, hepa filters running, quiet area, but still near a bus route, was quiet once some of the people left (my artist was also super surprised that all of the tables were in use when they arrived at the shop too!!) and even though we didn’t chat (they put in their faq basically that they often forget to chat so bring headphones or whatever to do while they work) it wasn’t awkward or anything. It felt like such a safe space and I adore it so much :) (and it’s more local to get to than the other one that I’m definitely also going to go back to too at some point hopefully this year) (yay local queer owned covid cautious studios!!!!!)

[kandlewick]

everyone awoke to malleus defeated. except for you meant to be read as platonic malleyuu but can be read as romantic.

Malleus could hardly breathe. every inhale felt like it was too small, like the air surrounding him was too thin. His lungs were empty, barren, and dry. And then he would exhale. a shaky breath. It rattled his bones and burned in his chest. As if nothing but flames raged in his insides. Before him laid a friend, a betrayed comrade, someone who put too much trust in the wrong people. You. You were asleep there, in a bed of thorns and roses, nestled deep and safe. Each petal cradled your cheek like a picture frame and you were a work of art. It all felt so clinical, so far away that Malleus could hardly tear his eyes away from your sleeping form. while constricted by vines to your familiar bed in ramshackle, no thorns pierced your skin. you knew no pain lying there. only dreams. It hardly felt real.

Malleus had made a mistake. He knew he had as soon as the blot began pouring from behind his tongue. but he couldn't stop it. the delirium. it poured out of him like a cracked glass of sand. In those fleeting moments, nothing had mattered more to him. The blot retched every single negative emotion out of his soul, bearing it for the world to bear witness to. And he was ashamed.

but you and the others had succeeded against him, saving all of your classmates and himself from the curse of eternal slumber. One by one, they all began awakening. Eyelids fluttering in the new morning sun. He awoke to the sound of laughter and cheers while he laid there on the broken floor, alone and empty and so so cold. Quietly, Malleus raised his head to thank? Curse? The Ramshackle prefect that laid beside him.

only, you remained there. asleep. too far gone and too far deep for anyone to reach out to. it was like your soul and body were separated, torn asunder. the only sign of life was your chest moving up and down from the breath that filled your lungs. At the moment, Malleus thought perhaps you were simply exhausted, with the heavy bags under your eyes and the pale complexion dusting your cheeks. Like the others, he thought that you only needed more rest. But days passed and there were still no signs of life behind those closed eyes. The teachers talked amongst themselves, unwilling or perhaps unable to offer any sort of explanation. There were talks about asking for assistance from other bodies but they were quick to be shot down. It seemed like nobody knew what to do with you. Or… your body. 

Nobody took it well.

Malleus in particular had ceased his studies, locking himself away in your room in Ramshackle. Ace and Deuce would appear on occasion, Grim in tow, but the three were quick to make themselves scarce once Malleus made it clear he was not leaving your bedside. He sat there for hours, uncaring of the passing of time as night became morning and dawn became dusk. What were mere days to a nigh immortal fae. If this was his curse, to watch the one human who befriended him and suffered for it waste away from his own folly, then so be it. Every morning, like clockwork, he sat there. Unflinching. Unmoving. Like a gargoyle. His eyes were empty and red, long dried from tears but he couldn’t drag himself away from you - he refused to even think of calling you a corpse. 

This day was like any other. He sat there beside you, his hands in his lap, the book he had foolishly planned to humor to read had been cast aside long forgotten, but for some reason the sight of you there pricked at his heart more than before. His voice came out quiet, weak from disuse, but he made an effort all the same. 

“My child of man.” he croaked, his tone heavy with shame and sadness, “I will not ask you for forgiveness.”

He took a shaky breath. Hesitantly, he reached out with a weak hand and clasped your own. The thorns around you pricked him and drew blood, but he paid no mind to it. He felt nothing. Numb. Malleus choked back tears as he pulled your hands close to his chest and against his still beating heart. He lowered his head in agony as he confessed like a convict at death’s door. “What I have done to you is unforgivable.”

He held you to him. Like if he held onto you tight enough, you wouldn’t fall even more to pieces. “You were my first true friend, my closest companion. The only one who treated me as if I was an equal…” He bit back a sob as he tried to cradle his face between his hands, desperate for your touch to once again warm his bones. But there was nothing. Only the cold. “And now I’ve lost you.”

“And not a day shall pass in the centuries that I am cursed to live will I ever forget your smile.” Then with an almost reverent touch, the prince brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. His lips stayed there, the taste of salt and skin filling his tongue, but he made no effort to move while he cried.

So far gone was he that he never noticed the batting of eyelashes, the furrowed brows, or the intake of breath. So far gone that it wasn’t until he felt your hand, tiny and weak, press against his dark hair, did he lift his head.

“Good morning, Hornton.”

[rafedarling]

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: your 4-year-old son, rustyn, has decided that he needs a sibling—and he’s not shy about telling everyone. from grandparents to cartoons, rustyn finds a way to make his wish known, much to the amusement of you and drew.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, toddler curiosity, family humor, and loving reflections on parenthood.

au: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

It was the kind of peaceful morning that felt like a small luxury—quiet, warm, and full of simple, slow moments. Drew was seated next to you, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression, while your 4-year-old son, Rustyn, was already up and playing in the living room.

The sound of toy trucks rolling across the floor accompanied Rustyn’s imaginative play as he created stories for his toys, his little voice full of excitement. You smiled to yourself, feeling your heart swell at the simple joy of hearing him play. Life had become so much sweeter since Rustyn had arrived—a bundle of curiosity, energy, and love wrapped into one tiny human. You and Drew often marveled at how quickly Rustyn seemed to grow, learning new things each day and filling your home with laughter.

The peace of the morning, however, was soon interrupted as Rustyn toddled into the kitchen, clutching his favorite stuffed bear in one hand and dragging it behind him. His expression was serious, a little too serious for a 4-year-old, and it instantly caught your attention.

Climbing up onto Drew’s lap with determination, Rustyn placed his tiny hands on his father’s chest, his wide blue eyes staring intently up at him. “Dada,” Rustyn said, his voice laced with that innocent curiosity that always made your heart melt.

Drew blinked, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around Rustyn. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked, smiling as he brushed a hand through Rustyn’s messy morning hair.

Rustyn shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on Drew’s shirt as if he had something very important to say. His voice was sweet but serious as he finally spoke again. “Dada, can I have a baby?”

Both you and Drew froze for a moment, your eyes widening as you processed the unexpected request. You had expected him to ask for another story or maybe breakfast, but a baby?

You exchanged a quick glance with Drew, both of you barely containing your laughter. Rustyn, however, remained completely serious, his innocent eyes blinking up at his dad, waiting for an answer.

“A baby?” Drew repeated, trying to hide his amusement. “You mean like a baby doll, Rusty?”

Rustyn shook his head quickly, his little brow furrowing in frustration. “No, Dada,” he said with the kind of determination only a toddler could muster. “I want a real baby. A baby brother or a baby sister.”

You nearly choked on your coffee, coughing lightly as you set your mug down and stared at Drew in disbelief. Drew, still holding Rustyn, raised his eyebrows in surprise, clearly caught off guard.

“Buddy,” Drew began, trying to navigate the situation delicately, “that’s… well, that’s not something we can just get right away.”

Rustyn looked confused, his big eyes darting between you and Drew. “Why not?” he asked, as if the concept of not being able to have a baby immediately was beyond comprehension.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at how earnest Rustyn sounded. It was clear that he had no idea how big of an ask this was. And yet, his innocence made the situation all the more adorable.

Drew glanced at you, his eyes pleading for backup. You took a deep breath, deciding to step in and explain.

“Well, sweetie,” you began, leaning forward slightly to meet Rustyn’s gaze, “babies take time. They don’t just show up like toys or presents. It’s something Mommy and Daddy have to decide together, and then we have to wait.”

Rustyn’s expression softened slightly, but the determined look didn’t leave his face. “But I want one now,” he said, his voice filled with the kind of pure, heartfelt longing that made you want to scoop him up and promise him the world.

Drew chuckled softly, bouncing Rustyn gently on his lap. “I get that, bud,” he said, his tone affectionate but firm. “But like Mommy said, babies take time.”

Rustyn pouted, his tiny lips forming a small frown as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna wait,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You exchanged another glance with Drew, both of you clearly realizing that this was only the beginning of the conversation. Rustyn wasn’t the type to let things go easily, especially when he set his heart on something. And from the look on his face, it was clear that Rustyn had already decided that having a sibling was at the top of his list.

Drew sighed softly, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “How about we talk about this later, okay? Let’s get through today first.”

Rustyn nodded reluctantly, though it was obvious he wasn’t fully convinced. He slid off Drew’s lap and padded back into the living room, but not before turning back to you both with one last, pleading look.

“I really want a baby,” he said again, his voice full of hope.

You smiled, feeling your heart melt at his innocence. “We’ll think about it, baby,” you promised, knowing that this was going to be a long conversation.

As the days passed, Rustyn’s request for a sibling didn’t fade. In fact, it became a constant part of your conversations—at the breakfast table, during bedtime stories, and even when you were out running errands. It seemed like everywhere Rustyn went, he found a way to bring up babies.

One day, while you were grocery shopping together, Rustyn spotted a woman pushing a stroller with a newborn inside. His eyes lit up instantly, and before you could stop him, he was tugging on your hand and pointing eagerly at the stroller.

“Mommy, look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. “Can we get one too?”

You laughed softly, gently guiding him away from the woman and her baby, who thankfully hadn’t heard him. “Rustyn, sweetie, we’ve talked about this,” you reminded him. “Babies don’t just show up like that.”

Rustyn’s face scrunched up in frustration, and he pouted. “But I want one,” he said, his voice filled with longing.

You sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I know you do, baby. But you have to be patient.”

Rustyn let out a small, frustrated sigh but nodded, clearly not happy with the answer. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.

The next time Rustyn brought up the topic was during a family dinner at Drew’s parents’ house. You, Drew, Rustyn, and Drew’s parents—Todd and Jodi—were gathered around the table, enjoying a relaxed meal together. The conversation was light, filled with laughter and stories, until Rustyn, who had been playing with his food, suddenly spoke up.

“Gigi?” Rustyn asked, his voice full of curiosity as he turned to Jodi.

Jodi smiled warmly at her grandson, always eager to listen to whatever was on his mind. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I have a baby brother or sister?” Rustyn asked innocently, his wide blue eyes blinking up at her.

The room fell into a stunned silence as everyone processed Rustyn’s question. Todd choked on his water, coughing lightly as he shot you and Drew an amused look. Jodi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she quickly recovered, giving Rustyn a sweet smile.

“Well, Rusty, that’s something you’ll have to ask your mommy and daddy about,” Jodi said with a soft chuckle, clearly trying not to laugh.

“I already did,” Rustyn replied earnestly, his little face serious. “But they said I have to wait. I don’t wanna wait, Gigi. I want a baby now.”

Todd let out a loud laugh, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Sounds like someone’s eager to be a big brother, huh?”

Rustyn nodded vigorously, his little face lighting up with excitement. “Yeah! I’ll share my toys and read them stories!”

You and Drew exchanged a look of amusement mixed with slight embarrassment. It was clear that Rustyn wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon, and now he was dragging everyone else into his mission.

“Well, Rusty,” Drew began, his tone gentle but firm, “we’ve talked about this, buddy. Babies take time, remember?”

Rustyn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted. “But I don’t wanna wait.”

Jodi laughed softly, patting Rustyn’s back. “Patience is a good thing to learn, Rusty,” she said kindly. “You’ll have to trust Mommy and Daddy to know when the time is right.”

Rustyn nodded, though he still didn’t look completely satisfied. “Okay,” he mumbled, clearly frustrated by the lack of immediate results.

Todd chuckled, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “You’ll make a great big brother one day, kiddo.”

Rustyn’s persistence didn’t stop there. One evening, while the three of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a cartoon, Rustyn spotted a baby character on the screen. His eyes widened with excitement, and he turned to you and Drew, tugging on Drew’s sleeve.

“Dada! Look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “Can we get one like that?”

Drew laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around Rustyn’s shoulders. “Rusty, we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “Babies don’t work like that.”

“But I want one,” Rustyn pouted, his big blue eyes looking up at Drew with a mix of confusion and determination. “I’ll take care of them, I promise!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning in to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “Sweetheart, I know you’re excited about the idea of a baby. But you have to be patient, okay? Babies don’t happen right away.”

Rustyn sighed dramatically, his tiny shoulders slumping as he settled back against Drew’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.

Drew gave you a playful look over Rustyn’s head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Looks like we’re in trouble here,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You grinned, shaking your head. “He’s not going to let this go anytime soon, is he?”

Drew sighed softly, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Nope. He’s determined. We might have to start planning.”

Rustyn perked up at the word “planning,” his eyes wide with hope. “Does that mean we’re getting a baby soon, Dada?”

Drew chuckled, pulling Rustyn into a hug. “Maybe, buddy. Maybe one day.”

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with that answer—for now. “Okay! I can’t wait!”

That night, after Rustyn had finally fallen asleep, you and Drew sat together on the couch, reflecting on the day’s events. Drew had his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned against him, both of you laughing softly at how persistent Rustyn had been about wanting a sibling.

“Can you believe how determined he is?” you asked, smiling as you snuggled closer to Drew. “He’s never been this focused on anything before.”

Drew laughed, resting his chin on top of your head. “I know. It’s pretty sweet, though. He just wants someone to share his world with.”

You smiled, nodding as you thought about Rustyn’s pure heart. “He’d make an amazing big brother,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection.

Drew squeezed your hand, his expression softening. “He really would,” he agreed. “And, you know… I wouldn’t mind giving him that one day.”

You looked up at Drew, your heart swelling with love. “One day?”

Drew nodded, his smile warm and full of love. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve got a pretty great thing going here, don’t we?”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. “We do,” you whispered.

As you sat there in the quiet of the evening, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you couldn’t help but think about the future—the possibility of growing your family even more. Rustyn’s sweet persistence had sparked something in both of you, and though it might not happen right away, you knew that when the time was right, you’d be ready.

For now, though, you were more than happy to enjoy these moments—the love, the laughter, and the joy of having Rustyn in your life.

[say-al0e]

All Too Well

Rating: SMUT, Minors DNI! No one under 18!

Summary: As a girl, you hoped you would someday marry Gwayne Hightower. That hope disappeared with Gwayne the day he was sent back to Oldtown. Now, as Rhaenyra finds a parade of suitors filling the Keep in search of her hand, one arrives just for you. | Ft. Anon request for: "Do you never tire of your own voice?”, “Now you’re just tempting me to do something we’ll both regret.”, “Guess I’ll have to come inside you, then.” Warnings: Potentially slightly off timeline, brief mention of Rhaenyra's wedding incident, Gwayne already thinks Criston's a little unhinged, unprotected PinV. Think that's it. Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x fem!Targaryen Reader (Rhaenyra's twin) [Rhaenyra, Gwayne, Reader are all about 18/19 - Alicent is 20/21] Word Count: 7.3k HotD Taglist | HotD Masterlist

“Laugh all you’d like, you’ll be next.”

The sight of Rhaenyra dressed in red and gold - gilded, gleaming as a Targaryen princess should - stomping through the gardens, annoyance simmering in her violet eyes, drew your amusement, though you were quick to smother your smile as she drew closer.

Scowling - exhausted and annoyed after a seemingly endless barrage of boastful and presumptuous proposals, all from men who wanted little more than a royal mother for their heirs - she settled onto the plush blanket at your side. Without prompting, you closed the book you’d spent the afternoon reading and placed it on the grass, allowing her space to rest her head as your hand fell to her hair.

“I’m not laughing at you,” you assured her - though the glare she leveled at you adequately conveyed her disbelief. 

It was true, you’d spent the morning giggling, not bothering to hide your smile as she was scrubbed and dressed and received a third - or thirtieth, you’d lost count - lecture from your father about duty. But, you weren’t laughing at her.

If anything, you were laughing at the absurdity of it all.

The King, the leader of the realm, was allowing a parade of potential suitors to offer themselves to Rhaenyra - his eldest, if only by a few moments - on a silver platter. The endless stream of lords was one she steadfastly refused to even consider, her heart already in the hands of the Rogue Prince, and you could not help but find amusement in the entire ordeal.

Viserys was going to the greatest efforts to secure a match for her, one that might leave her content - at best - while your own betrothal was not even a consideration.

Such was life.

“I do not believe you,” Rhaenyra insisted, violet eyes narrowing as she huffed. Still, she leaned into the feeling of your fingers carding through the silk strands of her silver hair. “You’re finding great joy in my misery.”

Despite herself, there was no heat to her accusation, no real belief that you found her pain amusing, but you still dutifully attempted to hide your smile.

“Believe what you’d like, sister. However, I do doubt I’ll be next,” you admitted, shrugging as you spared her a glance - somewhat grateful, somewhat incensed by the lack of consideration. “Father’s extended his best efforts to secure a match for you and you’ve succeeded in scarring half the lords in the realm,” you teased - laughing as Rhaenyra lightly pinched your forearm in mock scolding. “My own marriage is of little concern to him or anyone else. Perhaps, instead of a repeat of this spectacle, I’ll be sent away to become a septa,” you mused, only half-joking.

“What a shame that would be.”

Whatever reply lingered on Rhaenyra’s lips was swallowed as you both turned your attention to the young knight, remaining just a few steps from where you sat. Though you had not seen him in years, dressed in the rich emerald green of his house with flaming red hair, there was no question who stood before you.

Gwayne Hightower, once the very object of your girlhood affection, was a rare visitor to the Red Keep these days. 

As children, you spent a great deal of your time together, nearly every waking moment you could spare. You, Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Gwayne were never very far from one another, though you, Gwayne, and Alicent spent far more time in the library than Rhaenyra, who enjoyed nothing more than soaring through the sky atop Syrax.

The four of you were certain that you would grow into adulthood together - Rhaenyra and Gwayne riding off to battle and glory; you and Alicent, settling into gentler, happier lives as you awaited their return. 

That vision of the future brought you joy, excitement. But the vision that truly sustained you was the one in which you spent the rest of your life with Gwayne, happily married and blissfully lost inside a love you had little hope truly existed.

Unfortunately, that vision of the future disappeared in a plume of smoke.

Though his father had spent more time as the Hand of the King than Viserys had spent on the throne, after the death of their mother, only Alicent remained at court while Gwayne returned to Oldtown to live as a ward of Lord Ormund. He was nearly of age, and determined to become a knight, two prospects that meant he was well on his way to joining the City Watch - an order Otto despised, as deeply as he despised the man who occasionally commanded it.

Rather than allow Gwayne to fall into the hands of Daemon Targaryen, Otto sent his youngest son back to Oldtown.

The very moment Gwayne disappeared from your sight, auburn hair blazing in the sunlight as he began the journey to the Reach and blue eyes glittering as they met yours just before the gates shut, any hope of a shared future dissolved.

And the moment Aemma passed, any hope of peace between the Hightowers and Targaryens disappeared with her.

In the years that followed - the years that brought a union between Alicent and Viserys, babies Aegon and Helaena, and a handful of tourneys he should’ve competed in - you’d only seen Gwayne twice. And you found yourself nearly at a loss for words as you blinked at him.

“Ser Gwayne,” you greeted, offering a smile that, though tight - not the welcoming embrace of a one-time childhood companion - was more than you sister seemed capable of as she scoffed. “What brings you to King’s Landing?”

The tension in your shoulders, the tightness of your smile, the sudden weight that seemed to be pressing on your chest; each one answered the question you had no real need to ask. However, despite the discomfort you felt, you smiled politely as you awaited the obvious reply.

As the son of the Hand, a Hightower, he was a suitable match for a Targaryen princess. He would never be the first choice - the second son of a second son whose only acclaim was his lengthy turn as Hand - but everyone knew Viserys had long given up his desire for perfection and only wanted some measure of decency. He trusted Otto with his life and, if Otto put forth his youngest son, Viserys was apt to accept the offer without thought.

The parade of suitors arrived days earlier, each with a more ostentatious entrance than the last, and you knew he should’ve been among them. As ill as it made you feel, as much as you despaired the idea of Rhaenyra marrying the man you’d long dreamt of, if he’d only arrived with the others, there was little doubt Viserys and Otto would’ve been altogether too invested in making a match. And, despite his tardiness, if the King and Hand were so inclined, there was little anyone could do to prevent the pair from marrying.

No matter the damage that might do to your heart.

Seemingly unaware of your inner turmoil, Rhaenyra sat upright and frowned at Gwayne as he took a tentative step closer to where you sat. Bright eyes met yours, alight with an amusement you could not understand, as he hummed.

“My father sent for me,” he confirmed, seemingly unbothered by Rhaenyra’s narrowed violet eyes and sneer as he stated the obvious. “I’m sure it was to join the parade of suitors but I suppose I’ve arrived too late to be considered for Princess Rhaenyra’s hand,” he mused, sparing you a smile that seemed a touch too bright as he did. “How unfortunate.”

Despite his lament, Gwayne did not sound the least bit concerned, a fact both you and Rhaenyra noticed immediately. And while it struck you as both heartening and curious - you would not have to watch your sister wed a man you once dreamt of marrying, but what man in the realm did not wish to marry Rhaenyra? - it drew her annoyance, as did most things to do with House Hightower, of late.

“I can tell you’re positively beside yourself with grief, ser,” she declared, not bothering to conceal the roll of her eyes as she stood, unwilling to be in his presence any longer. “Perhaps your sister, the queen, may offer you some comfort.”

Rhaenyra, not bothering to spare either of you another glance, pushed past Gwayne - a step too close to be an accident - and retreated to the Keep in a flurry of shimmering gold and red.

Silence lingered for a long moment, something uncomfortable and heavy - something you never would’ve expected to experience with Gwayne - as you watched her disappear. Only then did Gwayne return his attention to you with a thoughtful hum. “Still a sore spot, then?”

The last time you saw Gwayne was at the wedding - both of you silently worrying - and he’d been an unfortunate witness to Rhaenyra’s misplaced anger at Alicent.

Unlike Rhaenyra, you did not blame your friend - you blamed her father, you blamed your father - but there was little you could do to mend the rift that had only seemed to grow ever wider with each day that passed. And, with a frown, you confessed as much to Gwayne.

“Alicent has tried, but Rhaenyra…” With a sigh, heavy and clearly communicating the weight on your shoulders, you moved to stand - nodding gratefully at the hand Gwayne offered. “I understand both, I think,” you confessed, retracting your hand and turning your head so he could not see the flush that lit your cheeks as you swallowed all thoughts about the warmth of his hand in your own and, instead, focused on the seriousness of the chasm you spent your days sidestepping. “I wish we could find peace, somehow,” you continued, hoping he did not hear the hitch in your voice as he took another step closer. “I mislike the tension and miss my friend.”

For just a moment, the statement lingered in the still of the garden. It was honest, as honest as you’d allowed yourself to be with anyone in a long time, and you felt a sudden pang of regret as you quickly pasted on your most polite smile.

“Enough melancholy,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. “How was your journey?”

Blue eyes met yours, searching in a way most never seemed to be - questioning, analyzing, rather than accepting the answer at face value - and you felt an almost overwhelming sense of vulnerability beneath Gwayne’s knowing gaze. Just as he had when you were children, still growing into yourselves, he seemed able to understand you when few else did.

And, rather than push you to carry on a conversation you were obviously not looking to entertain, he allowed you to shift the line of conversation. “Long,” he lamented, though he answered with a smile. “It was uneventful, and for that, I am grateful.”

“I’m very glad you arrived safely,” you assured him, though your cheeks heated with the admission. When he dipped his head, hiding his smile for your benefit, you carried on quickly. “Though, I’m sorry you arrived after the suitors were dismissed.”

In a way he seemed amused, a thread of humor glinting in his eyes as he continued to assess you in that all-knowing way of his. “Are you?”

Gwayne’s doubt was evident, a playful skepticism that made your skin heat with something not quite strong enough to be considered embarrassment though it came close enough. Regardless of your words, of the well-plotted act you followed without deviation, he seemed to hear the truth.

Though you would never admit it, you were glad Gwayne seemed to hold no interest in marrying Rhaenyra.

“Of course,” you said, anyway - continuing to follow the script and play your part faithfully. “You’d make a fine match for my sister.”

‘An even finer match for me,’ remained unsaid, though you assumed Gwayne heard it just the same.

For a moment, Gwayne allowed the comment - and its unspoken counterpart - to linger. Instead of rushing to reply, to thank you for the compliment or brush it away with the confident, casual air only he seemed capable of wielding without causing offense, he simply stood with you in the quiet of the garden.

It was only when the clink of armor and the click of heels against stone sounded that he made an effort to reply.

“Your confidence is appreciated, princess, but I believe there are many and more, far finer matches for Princess Rhaenyra. I will lose no sleep because of it and hope that neither will you.”

As Gwayne spoke his last word, the sentiment lingering and charging the air with something so tenuous you feared the slightest breeze might destroy any shred of its existence, he met your eyes. It felt as if everything around you ceased to exist, as if nothing else mattered, as hope began to rear its ugly head.

The warmth of a long buried dream, a long dormant affection, began to simmer in your blood - only to be cooled almost immediately by the bright voice of Alicent calling out to her brother.

“Gwayne!” 

With hurried footsteps and a smile brighter, and truer, than anything you’d seen from her in longer than you cared to admit, Alicent approached the pair of you. If anything about your moment with Gwayne seemed untoward - a Targaryen princess alone with a knight, unchaperoned and standing too close for the sake of propriety - she gave no indication that she noticed and, instead, simply smiled at you both.

“Father just told me you’d arrived,” she continued, “I apologize for not being there to greet you. I was with the children.”

Alicent’s arrival seemed to shatter the glimmering bubble that enveloped you for just a brief moment - something you pretended, hoped, Gwayne felt, too, as his smile grew regretful before he turned his attention his sister. And, as you returned to yourself, you felt the need to place as much space between yourself and the youngest Hightower as possible.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you began, cutting in before they could begin their conversation or dismiss you themselves, “I’ll go see about Rhaenyra and leave you both to catch up. Welcome back to King’s Landing, Ser Gwayne.”

With a parting smile and a squeeze of Alicent’s hand - a gesture you’d taken to providing when you could - you turned and set off in search of Rhaenyra without sparing Gwayne another glance. And as you wandered through the labyrinthine halls of the Red Keep, you could only allow yourself to wonder how long Otto might permit Gwayne to remain in King’s Landing and how long you might keep yourself from dreaming of a future that could never be.

Much to your surprise, keeping away from Gwayne proved easier than you imagined.

While his mornings were spent in the tiltyard with guards and a few members of the City Watch, yours were spent with Rhaenyra as she struggled to keep Viserys from shipping her off to Casterly Rock. While your father had no desire to see Rhaenyra trapped in a situation that would leave her entirely miserable, his patience had worn thin following the parade of suitors and what he deemed her indiscretions.

And following her dalliance with Daemon - and Criston, the truth of which only you knew completely - his patience dissolved completely.

The wedding was to be a grand affair with a feast and more merriment than Viserys’ own wedding - a much larger, brighter, more exciting affair than the solemn ordeal you’d been forced to witness. And, for a brief moment, it very nearly was.

Rhaenyra and Laenor had no romantic love for one another but as they danced, you felt hope they might at least find happiness and understanding in one another.

Even as Daemon stepped in to dance with Rhaenyra, his intention clear to all, things were fine. 

Merriment descended into chaos so quickly that your mind was left reeling. Dancing gave way to shoving, lords and ladies scrambling away from the savagery of Rhaenyra’s sworn sword and the futile attempts of other guards to pull him away. Shouts of joy quickly became shouts of terror, then a stunned silence, followed by a cry of anguish as a man lay dead in the midst of the revelry.

As blood stained Criston’s white cape, Harwin Strong rushed Rhaenyra to safety - easily flinging her over his shoulder and carrying her off as Laenor watched his companion fall - and you were ushered out of the hall by another guard whose face remained hidden in the shadows and flurry of movement.

Confusion reigned for a few long moments and the entirety of the Keep seemed to settle into a stunned silence as you wandered, in something of a daze, into the gardens. 

As time passed - just a few moments or, perhaps, even hours - you settled onto a stone bench and attempted to make sense of the scene you’d just witnessed. Though you knew someone would come looking for you sooner rather than later, you savored the silence as you wondered if there was anything you could’ve done to help prevent the misfortune that befell Rhaenyra’s wedding festivities.

And, though you would never admit it, you found yourself wondering if your own wedding - should you have one, after the disaster you witnessed - would be as memorable.

Before you could think too long and hard about the future - about what changes might be made in the event of your own marriage, about who you might be forced to marry to ease now doubtlessly fractured relationships, about how miserable you may someday be - a voice cut through the still of the night.

“Princess.” 

Gwayne, auburn hair tamed and eyes shimmering in the light of the moon, approached slowly. There was a concern on his face, joined by a barely concealed hint of amusement, that struck an already frayed nerve as he joined the seemingly endless list of those who found the spectacle of your life to be the highest form of entertainment. However, despite the simmering annoyance you felt, the sight of him was something of a balm for your racing heart.

“I was hoping I might find you,” he continued, stepping closer - now fully illuminated. “Though, through all the ruckus in the hall, I feared another guard had snatched you away. Ser Strong lives up to his family name, it seems.” When you made no attempt at a reply, only exhaled heavily at his attempt at levity, Gwayne continued unbothered. “Cole, Rhaenyra’s sworn sword, is… intriguing. He is skilled but has an unquestionable temper that is easily triggered. But, perhaps -“

“Do you never tire of your own voice?”

The question, spat with a venom you hadn’t known yourself capable of, interrupted Gwayne’s soliloquy. If he took offense from, or was surprised by, the outburst, he hid it well. Instead, he simply ducked his head to hide his laughter before returning his attention to you.

“Mm, I’ve been told my voice is rather charming,” he confessed, lips curving into the ghost of a smirk as he stepped even closer. “Unfortunate that you do not seem to agree, princess.”

With a sigh, you shook your head. “My apologies,” you hummed, tone softer now. “It is not you I am frustrated by.”

Though it was a partial truth - your true frustration was caused by your father, by your sister, by your lot in life - Gwayne did play at least some small part in the unease that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

While it was not his fault that you wanted nothing more than to marry him, to disappear to Oldtown and leave behind the madness of the Red Keep and all its political misery, his presence only reminded you of what you could not have. 

Still, Gwayne seemed unruffled. “I take no offense. It has been a rather… exciting evening.”

Scoffing, you nodded. “An understatement,” you huffed, before adding, “I wish for nothing more than a little peace.”

The smile Gwayne now offered was one of understanding, something gentler, as he offered you a hand. “Shall I escort you to your chambers, then? The feast has ended, I’m afraid,” he announced, smile growing just a touch brighter as you accepted his offer.

As you stood, smoothing your gown and inhaling the last breath of cool night air, Gwayne released your hand and waited. It was only when you began to move that he did, too.

Silence had never been one of Gwayne’s strengths - as much as you regretted snapping at him, he did seem to enjoy the sound of his own voice - but he remained quiet at your side for much of the walk through the Keep. It was only as you began the ascent to your chambers that he spared you a sidelong glance.

“Oldtown is most peaceful,” he declared, unprompted, body a respectable distance from your own - though still a step too close for true propriety - as you walked in-step. “Though it is a large city, there is a serenity King’s Landing has not yet achieved.”

“I would love to visit someday.” Much of your life had been spent within the confines of King’s Landing, with only the occasional visit to Drftmark or Dragonstone, and you wished to see more of the realm. “I’ve heard of the beauty.”

“The Red Keep, for all its grandeur, does not offer one a true image of life beyond these walls. There is much to see.” Gwayne’s words, while gentle, held a sadness - a seriousness - you’d never before associated with him. He’d long been bright smiles and sharp jabs, playful taunts and swinging swords. There’d always been a boyishness to him but you were reminded that he was now a man grown as he turned to glance at you. “Do you ever imagine a life lived elsewhere?”

Had the question come from anyone else, you might’ve found offense. Had anyone else asked, you might’ve denied the dreams that often consumed you.

But because it was Gwayne, you felt yourself falter.

“Sometimes,” you began, words trickling out slowly as you attempted to make sense of your own thoughts - of his line of questioning. “I love my sister, my father, Alicent. The Keep is beautiful and King’s Landing has always been my home. But I do wonder what it’s like, what it will be like. I won’t live here forever,” you confessed, casting your gaze to your shoes as you approached your door. “Whoever I marry, surely I’ll go to live with him.”

“Have you given any thought to that?” When you frowned, Gwayne elaborated. “To who you might marry.”

Gwayne’s gaze was intense, searching - overwhelming - as he waited patiently for your answer. There was a glimmer in his eyes, the same one you saw often when you were young, and you swallowed the dreaded hope that dared bloom once more.

“Rhaenyra’s betrothal was more of a concern,” you confessed, tipping your head in an attempt to hide the confession that remained unspoken - the one that told him you often felt an afterthought to your sister.

“My father sent for me,” Gwayne began, pausing only a moment to catch your eye. “It was to be part of the parade of suitors vying for Rhaenyra’s hand but I had no interest in taking part. I have never wanted to marry Rhaenyra,” he confessed, taking a step closer - toeing the line of propriety as he did so. “Surely you know my attention has been drawn elsewhere and has been for a very long time.”

Despite the sincerity, the earnestness with which he spoke, you felt certain that the moment was a dream - or nightmare, depending on whether the person who captured his attention was someone other than you. Though you desperately wanted him to have spent years imagining you would someday be his wife, it felt impossible to believe.

“Rhaenyra is beautiful,” you reminded him, voice small and almost frightened as you waited for him to confess that it was all in jest or reconsider his options.

“No more so than you.” Gwayne stated it as a fact and you blinked.

“She is bolder,” you continued, searching desperately for any reason he might have to want you over your sister - none of which made any sense to you.

“I think you plenty bold.” He took another step closer, now foregoing any pretense of respecting propriety, and offered you a patient smile.

“She will someday be queen.” It was the last reason you could imagine, the one that seemed to draw nearly as many suitors as her beauty, but Gwayne seemed entirely unimpressed as he shrugged.

“I have no desire to be king consort. I’m content with the life I lead, save for my want of a woman who does not seem to recognize her own value,” he mused, tipping his head to meet your bewildered gaze with a questioning look of his own. “What must I do to prove to you that you are the woman I wish to marry, the one I’ve wanted since we were children?”

Without thought, you demanded, “Kiss me.”

Before you could find it within yourself to be embarrassed, Gwayne laughed. “Plenty bold,” he teased, smile soft but real. “However, you are tempting me to do something we’ll both regret.”

“Why is that?”

Gwayne’s lips curved into a smirk, blue eyes glinting with an amusement that you’d always found charming, as he hummed. “I fear if I kiss you now, I may never stop.”

There was little doubt as to what Gwayne meant, little doubt as to why he kept himself a step from you, but you cared little. Despite your upbringing, the teaching of your septa, you cared little about anything other than finally having Gwayne.

“Then don’t.”

Blue eyes flashed with something dark, something hungry, and you could see the restraint it took for him to offer you a placating smile. “I’ve spent my time here waiting for the moment to ask for your hand. When I did, it seemed the Keep erupted in chaos,” he confessed, laughing when you blinked - stunned that he’d already asked. “Neither of our fathers had a chance to answer. If I take you and they choose to deny us, the king will have another scandal on his hands. Two wayward princesses - your jest about becoming a septa may become a reality,” he reasoned, though his hand lifted to your cheek.

“And if the answer is yes?” Unable to help yourself, you leaned into his touch and allowed yourself a moment to enjoy the warmth of his palm pressed to your skin.

“Then they’ll have no choice but to allow us to marry sooner rather than later.”

Gwayne knew the risk was, nearly, entirely your own to take. With his father serving as the Hand, he would not be sent to the Wall for stealing your virtue - you both hoped, anyway - but there was still a lingering fear of the shame that might befall you both if anyone were to see. If both your father and his denied the match, you would be hard-pressed to find a husband and feared you would be left in the same position as your sister.

Despite that understanding, the choice was one you made easily. For as long as you could remember, Gwayne was all you’d wanted, the only man you’d ever considered, and there was little hesitation as you pushed open the doors to your chambers.

“Both are consequences I am willing to accept.”

There was a moment of doubt, a wonder as to whether Gwayne would follow you or if he would allow propriety to dictate his choice, but the moment you stepped into the warmth of your own room, he followed close behind.

The heavy wooden door shut with a finality that seemed to seal your fate, a confirmation that the choice you made in the moment at hand would dictate your future, and you found that there was no fear in what was to come. You would either marry Gwayne, be sent away, or be married for political gain.

At the very least, you would experience his touch before your fate was decided.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, both almost uncertain - you, with inexperience; Gwayne, with a hesitation to potentially destroy your future - before he stepped forward and silenced the endless cacophony of doubt swirling in your mind.

Gwayne’s lips pressed to yours in a kiss softer than you’d anticipated, something almost gentle, as his hands returned to your cheeks. 

Warmth bled into you, the heat of his body pressed to your own as he crowded closer - a dizzying sensation that had you clinging to his biceps in an effort to steady yourself. Everything about him overwhelmed your senses, made it difficult to remember anything other than the longing you felt for him, and you were glad of it as one hand fell from your cheek to rest at your hip.

There was no rush, no hurry, and it eased some of the nerves that still rattled you. 

So many years had passed, very few of them with contact shared between you and Gwayne, but as he stepped with you, deeper into the interior of your chambers, it felt as if no time at all had passed. He’d always been there, in the back of your mind, and you’d long held hope that he would be there in the future - though, of late, you’d hoped that he would be in front of you.

To finally have him as you’d so long dreamt was nearly as instinctual as breathing and you settled into his embrace easily.

Both of you were content to to linger for a moment, one of his hands on your cheek while the other gripped your hip as your hands held tight to his biceps, and savor the kiss. His lips, warm and chapped slightly, moved easily against your own, chasing them each time you attempted to part to catch your breath. His tongue traced the seam of your mouth, a hum of approval escaping as you parted your lips and allowed him to taste you - wine, honey, lemon.

“If I’m to live the rest of my life apart from you, knowing the feel of your lips - knowing how you taste - I may go mad,” Gwayne declared, breaking the kiss and doing nothing to hide his awe as your chest heaved with the effort of catching your breath.

“Then let us pray we will never be parted.”

It was you who surged forward then, reclaiming his lips in a desperate bid to keep him as close as he would allow, and Gwayne responded in kind.

Hands, calloused from years spent wielding a sword, fell to your hips as he continued to blindly inch you closer to the canopied bed. Though you could only feel the warmth of him, just barely, you shuddered at the thought of feeling his bare skin pressed to your own.

Mercifully, as you stepped beyond the privacy screen with only minimal impact with objects unlucky enough to reside in your path, Gwayne’s hands moved to the laces of your gown.

“As eager as I am to take whatever you will give me, we can stop,” he assured you, voice soft, lips only an inch from your own - warm breath fanning across your face as he met your eyes. There was a look of understanding in his own, a compassion few had ever shown for you, and your heart ached. “We can wait, hope that we will be given leave to marry, and save your reputation if we are not.”

“I don’t care about my reputation,” you promised, lifting your hands to rake through the soft strands of his hair. “If we are denied, I’ll at least have this memory to soothe my broken heart.”

With your blessing, Gwayne reached for the final tie - hands holding the fabric in place for only a moment before allowing it to begin falling. As the red fabric began to slip down your shoulders, those warm hands were there to explore the newly exposed skin.

Gwayne’s attention fell to your body, lips no longer chasing your own as he watched your skin be exposed inch by torturous inch with eyes blown black with a hunger you’d never before seen.

One hand lifted to your throat, fingers brushing along your collar bone and across your shoulder - down your arm, pausing only to lift your hand to his mouth where he pressed a soft kiss to the back, those eyes never leaving your own - as the other moved to continue peeling fabric from your body. 

Every inch of skin Gwayne touched, every inch he merely gazed upon, felt warm - kissed by the flames of a desperate need you’d never before felt. Though the room had been comfortable only moments before, it suddenly felt stifling, air thick with a growing want that you nearly feared, as he finally leaned in to press his mouth to your skin.

Soft kisses peppered your skin - delicate, careful things that made you feel revered, worshipped - as he walked you back, helping you step over the pile of fabric pooled around your feet.

The moment the back of your knees pressed to the mattress, Gwayne nipped at the soft skin just beneath your ear. “Lie back for me, my love,” he urged, not bothering to hide his smile as you sighed - just a little lovesick - at the term of endearment. 

As you climbed onto the bed, situating yourself amidst the pillows and fabric, Gwayne made quick work of the clothes he wore.

Unable to help yourself, you watched with unblinking eyes as he stripped beautiful green garments and tossed them into a heap beside the red fabric of your gown. He’d always been beautiful, bright hair and eyes a stunning contrast to the dark green he always wore, but he was even more beautiful than you remembered as he stood before you. The pale expanse of his skin emerged, littered with silvery scars from tourneys and training, and you longed to reach out and touch him.

Before you could, however, he settled onto his knees at the side of the bed and reached for your thighs.

“It is my hope that I can spend the rest of my life between your thighs,” he declared, eyes bright as they lifted to meet your own. “Your sister will someday be queen of the realm, but you shall always be queen of my heart.”

The teasing comment was accompanied by a wink, exaggerated and playful, and laughter escaped you immediately. Even as Gwayne worked to pull the fabric of your small clothes from your body, you shook your head. “I fear I may have changed my mind, ser,” you teased, shifting to accommodate his body as his hands stroked your warm skin. “Is it too late to find a more serious suitor?”

“Entirely, I’m afraid,” he hummed, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. “Though the ladies of the realm owe you a debt of gratitude for saving them from my awful jests.”

“Well, if someone must,” you teased, voice faltering as he continued pressing his mouth to the warmth of your skin.

Gwayne seemed pleased with the beginnings of your reaction, nearly proud at the way your breath hitched and your lips parted the higher his lips ventured, and you found yourself entirely unbothered by the thought of him drawing closer and closer to your most intimate area.

Curiosity and a breathless anticipation lingered in the pit of your stomach, entirely overwhelmed by the warmth now entirely consuming you, as Gwayne inched ever closer. His fingers dug into the plush of your thighs, keeping you still and pliant, as he glanced up at you once more. “And, if someone must taste you,” he hummed, “well, I suppose I cannot refuse my princess.”

There was no time to wonder what Gwayne meant - or where he learned any of what he now used to please you - as he leaned in and began lapping at the slick gathered between your thighs.

The warmth surrounding you was now a full on blaze, a fire consuming you entirely, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that it could easily burn you alive as Gwayne lifted a hand to your aching cunt. Every sensation was new, overwhelming, and you could feel a tingling at the base of your spine that spread throughout your entire body as he licked at the arousal he’d caused.

Though much of the Keep was likely still making sense of the chaos, returning to rooms and inns and dealing with consequences, you kept enough of your wits about yourself to lift a hand to cover your mouth as Gwayne’s fingers joined his mouth in exploring the most intimate part of your body.

Every touch was better than the last, each one pulling sharp cries of pleasure from your throat, and you could feel Gwayne smile as he pressed a finger to your entrance.

“The next time we lie together, I want to hear you,” he declared, breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine as your skin muffled the words.

Gwayne’s bold insinuation that there would be a next time, that you would be allowed to see one another again - perhaps even have the future you’d long dreamt of - had your hand lifting to his hair. A little sharper than you intended, you tugged at the auburn locks and swallowed a moan of his name as he groaned against your skin.

It was all too much, too overwhelming, and you felt the desperate need to have him impossibly closer settle in the pit of your stomach.

With a tug at his hair, you urged Gwayne up, leaning over you - drawing him into a kiss that knocked him off balance. Laughter bubbled once more at the clumsy gesture, as he tumbled onto the plush mattress atop you, but it was quickly swallowed as you both realized the position you were in.

The warmth of his bare skin against to yours, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, the bulge of his cock pressed to your thigh - each realization struck you and rendered you nearly speechless as your fingers tangled in his hair. However, the pause only lasted a moment before Gwayne encouraged you to shift back onto the mattress and make room for him in your bed.

“Last chance to be rid of me, princess,” he whispered, knees pressed into the mattress and caging your hips.

“I want you closer,” you assured him, free hand reaching for his shoulder in an effort to urge him closer. “I don’t want to spend more time without you.”

Assured that your decision was resolute, that you had no doubts, Gwayne leaned in once more. With his small clothes gone and your slick coating your thighs, he pressed his mouth to yours as his hand fell to his cock.

“It’ll only sting for a moment,” he assured you, words whispered against your lips as he notched the head of his cock at your entrance. “But once it’s done, you’ll feel incredible. I’ll make sure of it,” he promised, pressing his forehead to yours as he began to inch forward.

Just as he warned, there was a stretch - a slight pain that stole your breath and made tears sting at the backs of your eyes - but he stilled above you and began pressing kisses to the heated skin of your cheeks, lips, and chin.

“Now that I’ve tasted you, felt you,” he breathed, “I’m ruined for any others. I am yours and yours alone.”

“Being sent away to become a septa would be a kinder fate than being forced to marry another,” you agreed, breathless and nearly lightheaded as you attempted to calm the beating of your heart. 

Gwayne did not allow you much of a reprieve, however, as the moment the words left your lips, his hips began to shift.

Though you both felt somewhat clumsy, inexperienced and desperate for the pleasure of the beloved you feared you may never feel again, the tingling at the base of your spine spread across your body. It needled at your nerves in the most pleasant of ways, curling your toes and sending your heart hammering against your ribcage as you focused on the feel of Gwayne pressed to you.

Every drag of his cock, every press of his hips to yours, had you seeing stars and you reveled in the pleasure.

“Gods, I don’t want to imagine a life deprived of this, of you.” Every whispered word of compliment, every grunt and groan of pleasure, chipped away at the negative emotions you’d felt for years and while it felt an awfully vulnerable thing to say - something far more serious than you intended for the moment at hand - Gwayne seemed all too pleased to hear the thought spoken aloud.

“Neither do I,” he promised, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “I suppose I’ll just have to spill inside you, then,” he decided, grin growing bright at the prospect - of what life might be like if there was no one to hand you a cup of moon tea and demand you drink it. “I don’t imagine our fathers will deny me your hand if there is a chance you’ll soon be with child.”

The earlier thoughts you’d had about the kind of match Gwayne would make - that he was not perfect for Rhaenyra - mattered little where you were concerned. Though a princess, you were the second and marriage was all that was required of you. A Hightower, the son of the Hand, would do fine for you.

“I don’t imagine they would deny us regardless,” you whispered, though it sounded far less assured than you hoped it would.

A fact he noticed. “Wouldn’t you rather be certain, princess?”

Gwayne’s hips snapped harder, pressing him even deeper, and you felt the breath disappear from your lungs with every thrust. It was more than you could handle, the heat growing impossible to withstand as it blazed across your skin, and you nodded desperately.

“If certainty means a lifetime of this, then by all means,” you urged, voice an eager rasp as you held tight to Gwayne.

Pleasure enveloped you both, then, a tidal wave dragging you under and refusing to relent for what felt like a lifetime. The edges of your vision blurred and your ears rang as you found your release with Gwayne following suit. The warmth of him settled atop you, buried inside you - spilling inside you - was more than you could bear and you bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out as loudly as you wished.

As he promised, Gwayne filled you - his seed spilling onto the sheets with the evidence of your tainted virtue - before pulling away to lay beside you.

Strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling you tight to his chest, and Gwayne laughed quietly. “I will not accept no as an answer,” he promised, voice quiet but certain as he tipped his head to glance at you. “We will marry and you will find peace in Oldtown, with me. I think you’ll be happy there.”

“If I am with you,” you whispered, offering him a smile, “then I know I will be.”

And, true to his word, the morning after Rhaenyra married Laenor in the quiet of the hall, you found yourself joining hands with Gwayne in a similar affair. While her wedding had been a solemn occasion, the bride and groom both beside themselves with the grief of a life lost, your own seemed a touch happier.

There was the promise of a future with Gwayne, one that brought you an excitement you’d not felt in a very long time, and as you began preparing for your new life in Oldtown, you felt a sense of peace that you knew would suit your new life all too well.

________________________________________________

Author's Note: Clearly, I did not intend for this to get as long as it did. But such is life. Anyway, I have power and internet and water again (hurricanes suck) and am spending my newfound free time writing. Hoping to have a few more pieces up soon. Also first time writing for Gwayne so be gentle. He's younger in this so not quite as sassy and jaded yet. Also I usually try not to write such a specific physical reader and I may not again but this was fun. I don't look like a Targaryen but it's fun to imagine sometimes.

Taglist: @anaya-rhys, @holypeacecrown, @marvelously-flawed, @travelingmypassion, @letsgotothehop, @reynacrawford, @liannafae, @ffsg0jo, @targaryen-madness, @hangmanscoming, @barnes70stark, @mysticaltwoface, @biqueen20, @lolathebunny221, @nourangul, @darylandbethforever9, @liandav, @r-3dlips

[chleem]

Flashing lights prologue

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,

Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter 1 | index

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Talk about a scandal. 

‘Drew Starkey, rising star from OBX, impregnates girl and refuses to take responsibility.’ ‘Drew Starkey impregnates girl and forces her for an abortion.’ ‘All to know about OBX star that SA a girl.’

Even an interview starring a random girl that claims to be pregnant with Drew’s child. 

If Drew knew going to the club a week ago would cause such big damage to his career, he would have never stop foot in there. But being stubborn and a sucker for fun, he just needed the relaxation that clubbing would offer. 

His PR manager Henry, who Drew’s only sees once a year, is surprisingly quiet. He sits across Drew, staring at his laptop. His typing makes up for the quiet and tense (at least for Drew) atmosphere in his manager’s office. 

“I’m sorry,” Drew starts, genuinely, his eyes shifting between his manager Jeff and Henry. “Look, I don’t know who that woman is. She’s lying, alright? I didn’t even talk to any strangers last night. Just my friends. And I was careful with how much I drank-”

“Calm down, we didn’t accuse you of it,” Jeff chuckles, also surprisingly calm and not scolding Drew. Normally, Jeff would scold Drew so hard that it took Drew back to the days of being coached by his dad. “I’ve worked with you for almost ten years, I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Hold up. Was this a dream? He fucked up real bad, why were his managers so forgiving? So… calm? This felt way too strange. They should be furious right now, thinking of a solution and threatening to kill Drew. So why were they so gentle with this situation?

Drew adjusts his hat, pocking his tongue against his cheek. Without thinking, he simply says, “What?”

Jeff glances at Henry, who nods, looking up from his laptop. Drew furrows his eyebrows at Jeff, who simply looks away as Henry starts. “Fine, Drew. We’re all fucking pissed at your mistake. Do you know how many sponsors have asked to break up your contract? Even after we’ve came up with a clean statement? For fuck’s sake, Drew. You’re fucking thirty now, and you still act like a fucking child!”

Drew licks his lips looking away. Okay, this was the Henry he saw yelling at other artists, and what he expected when he walked into the office this morning. But now that he was yelling at him, it felt horrible still. After all, who likes to be yelled at? 

“I’ve had to pull multiple strings to help you, to clear your name up. So you better hope this is your last mistake,” Henry continues. 

Drew couldn’t help but ask, “what did you do?”

“We’ve come up with a plan,” Henry says, walking over to the printer. He grabs the paper, taking a quick look before placing it on the table in front of Drew.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow, sensing something really strange. 

And he was right. On the top of the paper, it read, “Fake dating Proposal.”

What the fuck. He reads through the first sentence in his head, with widen eyes, “In order to save Drew Starkey’s career, he must conduct a year-long fake relationship with Y/n Y/l/n.”

He falls back in his seat. “You’re not fucking serious. This is the strings you had to pull? This is fucking ridiculous! How is this-“

“Drew!” Jeff yells, making him shut up. His face was slightly red, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Drew, trust us. We wouldn’t cause more harm. This, this will save your career, save you.”

“but out of anyone-“ Drew adjusts his hat once again. “Out of anyone, and you chose her?”

“She’s the best choice of right now, and the only one who even agreed. Drew. You’re not in the place of choosing. You sign, and you accept it. Or it’s the end.”

He couldn’t believe himself right now. Literally. Out of every solution, every person, it had to be you. You, the one person he can’t stand. You, the one person that gets him worked up and annoyed. It was like the end of the world for him. 

Worse, his manager seems to agree with this solution. As if he doesn’t know how much Drew despises you. Jeff places the pen next to Drew. “I hate to say this, but Drew, you’re screwed unless you do this. We see the vision, and in a few years, you’ll see it too. Just, just treat this as another acting class, okay?”

Do I have a choice anyways, he thinks. Drew rubs his face in annoyance. Fuck. Damn you and damn himself. Getting into this stupid situation in the first place. 

He looks at the contract again. Sees your name again. And his head hurts a thousand times worse than a hangover. 

He reads through the contract terms, cringing at it. 

‘Must show up at five or more public evens together.’

‘Must show PDA at public events, such as touching, holding hands, kissing etc.’

‘Y/n Y/l/n must talk sweetly about Drew Starkey, and steer away any negative comments.’

‘During the course of this fake-relationship, being seen with any other costar of the opposite sex is forbidden.’

Much more was listed, at least twenty terms were on this contract alone. So this is the real thing. 

And at the bottom, Drew sees what was offered. Wow. You get offered millions of dollars, while all Drew receives is a clear to his scandal. 

He should at least get half the amount you’re earning, considering that he has to put up with you. “How can she get so much cash?” Drew asks, curiosity killing him. 

“Because she’s got nothing to gain from being with you,” Jeff states matter-of-factly, that hurt Drew’s ego more than it should have. He also noticed how much money this was, almost all the money he earned from acting in OBX. Wow. So not only were you a moody bitch, but a greedy one as well. 

Drew rubs his eyes aggressively, a frustrated yawn coming out. He so is going to regret this. The worst decision he ever has to make. 

You better be the savior to his career, or he was going to kill himself. 

Drew signs, pushing the paper away as if it had some kind of disease. 

Henry forces a smile, grabbing the paper. Drew gets ready to leave, but Henry stops him. “Where are you going?”

“Home. I- that was enough for me.”

“No, no. You’re going to Y/n’s filming set.”

“What?”

“Yes, you heard me. Her manager gave the green light, so you’re going.”

“Fuck, it’s only like, a minute since I signed.”

“Hey, I’m saving you right now,” Henry says. “Now, you want your sponsors back or not?”

Drew curses under his breath, never wanting to punch a wall as much as right now. “Fine. I'll go. But I can’t promise that I’m hugging or touching her or anything. She’s a complete stranger to me.”

“We just need a couple of photos to leak out,” Jeff says, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll drive you there.”

“Fucking hate you Jeff,” Drew says, walking out the office. “Henry you asshole.”

Either his managers heard and said whatever, or they didn’t care. But cursing at people who's helping him ‘save’ his career was the least of his worries. His head is just consumed with meeting you again, the brattiest bitch he's ever known.

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

word count: 1.2k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: i'm sooo happy for the support and how much people liked the teaser! i was giggling seeing the reblogs and likes.

anyways, thought i should release a prologue first, to give drew's pov of this situation. apologies in advance for y/n's character and anyone who can't handle her! but i'm so excited for you guys to read ch1, which will be released later this week! like or comment to show support, really appreciate it <3

[goldengleams]

🫧 Can you write #15 with Quinn Hughes? Thank you!! :)

the proposal - q. hughes

A/N: Once again, college has been so busy that I haven’t had any time to post 😭 Hope you enjoy this, it’s more of a real imagine than a blurb to make up for the long wait! Love you guys :))

You woke up to the summer breeze rustling through your curtains. Your afternoon nap had replenished your energy from your morning out on the boat with Quinn. You had arrived at Quinn and Jack’s lake house just a few days earlier, and Jack had arrived last night. Now, you were waiting on Luke to get in this evening to round out your little group.

You stretched out to find the bed empty, but your hand brushed a piece of paper on Quinn’s side of the bed. To Y/N, it said. You blearily picked it up and read the message inside.

Pick you up for dinner at 6. Dress fancy :)

Love,

Quinn

You giggled at the note, at how adorable it was. You and Quinn were literally staying at the same house but his little plan made you smile. This summer would mark the fourth year that you and Quinn had been together and the first since you two had moved in together. You couldn’t imagine doing life without him anymore.

You picked out a light green slip dress from your closet, one of Quinn’s favorites on you. With the two hours you had left, you put on some makeup and did your hair. You loved that Quinn always made spending time with you a priority in your relationship, even when you had gone on just about every date imaginable.

You walked downstairs at 5:45, not sure what to expect. Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter, scrolling on his phone. He looked up immediately when he heard your heels clicking on the floor, grinning at you like a five year old with a secret.

“Why are you smiling at me like that, Jack?” You chuckled, a little suspicious.

“No reason!” Jack said quickly. “But Quinn will be here soon, he just texted me.”

You nodded and pulled out your phone to check. Quinn had also sent you a message that you had missed.

From: quinn❤️

On my way, see you in a few

You said goodbye to Jack and went to wait outside for Quinn. Before you left for Michigan, you had gotten your nails done and made sure to pack some of your favorite outfits just in case a special night like tonight happened. You raised your left hand and your various rings shone in the light, but your ring finger still remained bare. You let out a sigh, trying not to get your hopes up in case tonight wasn’t the night. After four years together, you knew Quinn was the one, you just had to wait for the big moment now.

Quinn pulling up drew you from your thoughts a few moments later. He honked the horn of the beautiful cream colored vintage convertible he had rented for the night. He hopped out and came to walk you to the car, giving you a quick kiss.

“There’s my gorgeous date for the night,” he said proudly. His comment made your cheeks heat up and you marveled at the way he could still make you blush, even after knowing him for years.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, especially in this fancy car,” you said as he opened your car door for you. Quinn had always been a gentleman to you, it was one of the things you loved most about him. He never failed to make you feel special.

“So, where does this mystery date take place, Captain Hughes?”

Quinn just shook his head as he drove. His hair was blowing softly in the breeze and the summer sun highlighted his features beautifully. You were so gone for this man.

“Can’t spoil the surprise just yet, babe.”

Twenty minutes later, Quinn pulled up to a small restaurant right on the lake. He led you inside and the hostess quickly brought you to a table in a small gazebo, right near the water.

Quinn quickly pulled out your chair for you to sit in and you giggled at his actions. He had always been chivalrous, opening doors for you, pulling out your seat. It was something you had never experienced from guys before Quinn and now you hoped you’d never have to live without it.

You reached for his hand across the table once he sat down, yearning for his touch. His hand found yours and he smiled.

“Hi babe,” he said quietly. It was only the two of you for a good twenty feet, so you couldn’t hear anyone else’s conversations, and you doubt they could hear yours, but leave it to your Quinn to still be soft spoken and sweet.

“Hi Quinny,” you said shyly. “Can’t believe you got a spot here for dinner.”

Quinn knew this restaurant was one of your favorites. It was the place three years ago where he asked you to be his girlfriend. You had an inkling that he had an important question for you tonight.

“Yeah, just wanted to bring you back to where it all started,” he said. “Remember when I asked you do be my girlfriend? I was so nervous that day.”

You could tell he was nervous again and almost started to tease him about, but a waiter came up before you could ask. The meal got underway and you didn’t get to bring it up again. The two of you talked about anything and everything, just like you always did.

Quinn had checked his phone a few times during dinner, typing away on his screen before returning to the conversation.

“Something important on there, babe?” You asked.

“Uh, just some texts about hockey stuff,” he smiled back nervously. You knew he was always busy with captain duties, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t actually texting anyone about hockey. Regardless, you nodded and finished your dinner, which was absolutely delicious as always.

The sun had started to paint the sky hues of pink and purple and you smiled at the beautiful view of the sunset over the lake. This could be the night that you become Quinn’s fiancée. The thoughts swarmed your mind and sent tears to your eyes. You loved Quinn so much, you just didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Y/N?” Quinn drew you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You tried not to act like you were totally distracted, but it wasn’t easy. Quinn titled his head like a confused puppy.

“You alright? You looked sad,” he said.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about us,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m the luckiest girl ever.”

“Well, I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

You could tell Quinn got a little startled at your words and how close you were to tears. He thought you had figured him out. He ate the last few bites on his plate as you did the same, and asked if you wanted to go down by the restaurant’s dock with him.

“Sure, but can I run to the bathroom first?” You asked, and he stood up quickly to pull your chair out for you so you could go inside.

“Uh, sure! I mean, yeah, of course, I will just wait here,” he said, tripping over his words.

He watched as you started to walk away from the gazebo and towards the main building and he hastily pulled out his phone. Clicking Jack’s number, he prayed his younger brother would answer in time.

“Yo,” Jack answered.

“Get back in the car or hide or something! She’s coming into the restaurant right now!”

Quinn heard a few curses and some bottles clinking as he assumed Jack and Luke were trying to get up from the bar or a table and get out of the restaurant.

“She’s going in the door near the ramp, so don’t go that way or she’ll see you.”

“We’re not, we’re outside on the patio,” Jack snapped. “You’re bossy when you’re nervous.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. He could make out two tall figures over on the patio deck who were waving at him. Jack had gone to pick Luke up from the airport and they both made their way to the restaurant, along with a photographer, to see their brother propose.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” but Quinn didn’t have an answer. Truthfully, he was nervous. He knew he had waited quite a while to propose, not ever doubting your relationship, but just waiting for the right moment. Quinn knew there were plenty of moments in Vancouver where he could’ve pulled out the ring he had picked out for you last year, but none of them seemed right. He wanted to propose to you at the spot where you became his girlfriend, with the beautiful lake and sunset in the background.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jack and Luke chuckled. “We’ve got the photographer waiting, she’s also excited. You got this, okay? She’s gonna say yes, she loves you, Quinn.”

Jack’s words calmed him down a little, and before he knew it, you were walking out of the restaurant. He quickly dropped the call and watched your dress shine in the evening sun. He couldn’t believe you would be his fiancée tonight.

Quinn stood to greet you, reaching for your hand, which you accepted.

“Look at how sweet they are, Quinn,” You passed by a few tables with some older couples, and your heart swelled in your chest. You hoped that would be you and Quinn someday.

Quinn just squeezed your hand, not able to say anything due to the lump in his throat.

“I hope that will be us someday, coming to the lake house and spending summers together.”

Quinn nodded and led you up the ramp, letting you go first so he could locate the photographer who gave him a small wave and thumbs up to indicate she was ready.

“Oh my god, Quinn, look at the sunset!” You walked to the edge of the dock, gazing out into the sky. You were so enamored that you didn’t realize that there were fairy lights adorning the wooden posts on the dock, which weren’t usually there. They twinkled in the waning light, and Quinn wished he was able to see how they lit up your face.

He kept a little distance between the two of you, standing to the side, just like him and the photographer had practiced the day before. Quinn reached into his pocket to grab the little velvet box. He quietly knelt down to your left side as you turned to the right and waited for his moment.

“Oh shoot, I think I left my phone at the table so I can’t take a-,” you said, turning to your left where you had felt Quinn’s presence. Unsurprisingly, he was there, since you could always tell where he was, but shockingly, he was down on one knee, staring at you.

“Quinn,” you said breathlessly, your hand coming to cover your gaping mouth.

“Y/N, I knew from the moment I met you that it was love at first sight. I knew that you were special, and that I would be lucky enough just to be your friend and have you in my life,” he said shakily. “I never thought a girl as beautiful and intelligent and perfect as you would ever walk into my life, but I’ve been so lucky to call you mine ever since.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes at this point. You had hoped for this moment for years, and there was no stopping the emotions now.

“I’m so grateful that you support me in my dreams and my job and I’m the proudest guy on the ice every time I know you’re up in the stands cheering me on. I could’ve never made it to where I am without you in my life, and I hope you know how much you mean to me,” Quinn said, getting choked up. “You complete my family, my life, and myself in a way that I didn’t think was possible, and I don’t ever want to do life without you.”

“I know I waited a long time to ask you this question, but I hope you know I just wanted everything to be perfect. And I thought asking you here, where it all began, was as perfect as it gets,” he said, opening the small box in his hands.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” Quinn could barely get the words out of his mouth before you were nodding enthusiastically, your whole body shaking.

“Yes, Quinn, yes,” you said urgently. He chuckled nervously and placed the beautiful ring on your left ring finger. You had never put on a piece of jewelry that felt more right.

You pulled Quinn up to kiss him, and finally registered the clicks of the camera and the cheers coming from the restaurant, led by a pair of brothers you knew all too well.

“I knew you were planning something,” you giggled against his lips. “I love you so much Quinn.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Can’t wait to call you Mrs. Hughes someday.”

——————————

A/N: After seeing Jack and his gf this weekend, we all need some Quinn and Luke to heal😭😭😭 Hope you enjoyed this!!

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 10.2

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: The wall breaks.

Tags: manipulation, mentions of blood, smut, cream pie, fingering, sauron needs a therapist he is unwell, wall sex, obsession, sauron pov,

Notes: you sluts convinced me. I'm very proud of this one, especially the first part. As always I love your feedback.

He splashed the water over his face, mind reeling back to hours earlier. He hoped his ruse with the blacksmith worked. Yes, he wanted a job and a fresh start. At least part of him did, the part that didn't seek to take over the world and force every race under the sun to their knees. But he also knew where you'd be. Of course he did. He could sense you anywhere. You'd never be able to hide from him. The sight of you with the boy made his blood boil, but it all served a purpose. To make you doubt. To make you think. To convince you, he felt nothing real for the elf. Nothing like he felt for you.

That wasn't a deception. He didn't feel the same for her that he felt for you. She was a powerful ally and the best pawn he could have at his disposal. She intrigued him, but in a different way than you did. She had such darkness in her, but she didn't acknowledge it. She was beautiful, of course. But you were different in ways that he dare not think too much of. The wall he has built in his mind was too strong to allow his mind to wander to what his feelings for you meant, where the deception ended, and his truth began.

The knock drew him from his thoughts, and he made quick work of dressing himself. He couldn't help but smirk. It was you, of course it was, and it meant that his plan had worked. In a moment, his face changed as he opened the door.

“When did you get back?”

The sound of your voice started a chorus inside his soul. The miniscule part of him that could feel love and affection and joy and hope came alive. Morgoth convinced him it was the weak part of him. Morgoth had worked endlessly to destroy that. Sauron could almost believe it was gone until he looked into your eyes, and it ravaged him, shaking his being and willpower and fighting against everything he knew and believed.

“Early this morning, before sunrise.” He spoke softly. Your silence was thick in the air. Perhaps he needed to do more.

“Sweet one, I am sorry for what happened before. I ..-”

“Do you love me?”

What?

No.

He didn't.

He couldn't.

He wasn't capable of it.

Inside his mind, the carefully constructed wall began to crack.

Do you love me?

The words rang in his ears, getting louder and louder until it was all he could think. His mind could not break free. There was no manipulating or deceiving his way out of this. His consciousness would no longer let him deny it.

He couldn't lie to you. Not truly. Not without regret. The lies he spoke to you were like needles coming from his throat and spilling from his tongue, gashing and cutting him before spilling past his lips. He could not lie to you.

Why?

He could not look you in the eyes and think of bringing you harm. He had tried. How many times on that raft had he thought of drowning you in the sea. Or stabbing you. He could imagine his body acting the movements. He could see it in his mind's eyes, but he could never do it. He could never harm you. He couldn't even make something else bring you harm.

Why?

You made him think of home. Of song and light and love. Of a time before time when everything was peaceful and quiet. Your touch brought him a warmth he had not felt in time unimaginable.

Why?

Why did he have to protect you? Why did he seek you out every moment of every day? Why did 3 days apart from you feel longer than the thousands of years he spent as sludge in a cave?

Why did you make him wonder? Wonder about the future, about his morality, about his redemption. About the mystery of if Maia and mortals could ever have children. Why did you make him think of a family?

Why was your mere presence so utterly groundbreaking to who he had become that it felt like an apocalypse had come over his very soul?

“Halbrand, do you love me?”

Your voice tore him from these thoughts, and looking at you, he knew. He knew.

And in that knowing he feared. He feared what he could do to you. He feared what others could do to you. He feared his old master long dead.

He feared because it was true.

He feared because he loved you, and he could no longer keep it hidden from himself.

“I do.”

He was not prepared for when you sprung on him, and he couldn't gather the willpower to hesitate. He had felt lust before, for others of his kind and for a select few elves, but what he felt for you transcended the physical. You tasted sweet, of course you did, and he couldn't help the groan that rumbled in his throat. His fingers dug into the plump flesh of your cheeks as if afraid you'd move away.

He had longed for this moment, it seemed for an eternity, but he knew that was not the case. He broke the kiss, holding your chin in his grasp as he kept your face away from him. He could not just take you. He had to know if you wanted him too. He craved it. And if you didn't want him, he would wait until you did.

“Sweet one,” his voice was deep and rough, looking down at you. You looked so pure and so innocent. “Tell me this is what you want.”

“I want this. I want you.”

You spoke with no hesitation. There was not even a moment. What he thought about in the quiet of the night with his cock grasped in his hand, the lewd sounds he'd only imagined you making, it was all about to become a reality.

“Fuck,” he groaned and made quick work of pulling you into his room. He pushed you against the door, knee between your legs and lips bruising yours. He could feel your arousal on the cloth of his pants, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth. You tasted so sweet. So pure. So good. He could never be sated.

Your skin felt soft in his hands. He squeezed and kneaded all of you. Your stomach. Your thighs. Your ass. Your breasts. The feel of your skin would be an invisible tattoo etched into his hands until the stars rained from the skies.

It was him who whined when you pulled away. He was desperate for more. His forehead rested against yours as he watched you. Your lips swollen and red, he could taste your spit on his tongue, and he needed more of you.

But only if you wanted him too. Only if you needed him to. The devastation of his love for you had been immense. He could not imagine the havoc your rejection would cause. One hand gently rested at the base of your neck to direct your eyes to him, his thumb softly caressing your skin.

“Tell me to stop, sweet one, and I will.”

You looked up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. How could anyone compare to you?

“I am yours.”

Oh, sweet one.

You did not know what you spoke. You did not know who you were saying this. He had selfishly claimed you, but in this moment, he felt almost broken because you did not deserve him.

“Do not say words when you do not know the weight of them, sweet one.”

“I am yours.” And suddenly you were leading his hand under your dress and to your soaked underwear. He had to grit his teeth to stop his eyes from rolling back. He doesn't dream, but he had dreamed of this. It was slick and wet and hot. And you smiled at him.

Fuck.

He did not care about his deception in this moment. He would fill you with his corruption, his darkness until it flowed from you like a fountain. Until it dripped in pools at your feet.

He moved his fingers against your clit, softly and slowly, “Has anyone touched you like this?” His voice was thick with desire.

You shook your head, but that was not good enough for him. He gently squeezed your throat, and he felt the blood that surged under his touch. One day, he would carve his name into your flesh, and he would lap at the blood that flowed from the wound.

“Use your words,” he mumbled softly.

“No, only you.”

Only him.

He slid his finger inside of you, relishing the sound it made. The wetness and slick on his fingers made him want to taste you, but he couldn't, not tonight. He knew he would spend forever in between your thighs, and he did not have the time for that.

“Fuck, do you hear that?” His finger moved faster, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. “My sweet one,” he cooed, “fucking soaked at the thought of my cock, huh?”

He breathed heavily, his cock was achingly hard. He was addicted to the feel of your cunt and the sounds it made as he fucked it. The way you backed against his palm, the blissed out look in your eyes, he watched it all intently. He added a second finger and as your lips parted, he hungrily tasted your mouth once more. It was sloppy and wet, his teeth tugging at your lips. He couldn't get enough. Grunts and groans and growls ripped through him as he fucked you with his fingers harder and deeper. His lips trailed to your neck, licking your salty skin and sucking until your skin turned red.

You belonged to him.

You whimpered and gasped, and he needed more of it. He gently rubbed your peaked nipple and that was enough. You were a squirming mess as you came, soaking his hand.

“That's it, that's my girl,” he mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

He watched you intently as your body relaxed and your head hit the door. “That was incredible,” your voice was soft and spent.

He chuckled, his thumb coaxing you to look at him. “Pretty girl, look at me.” You did as he told you, his hands cupping your face. You were so pretty. So beautiful. Especially now, exhausted from how hard you came.

“That's my girl,” he squeezed your cheeks in his hand. “My pretty fucking girl. I need you to look at me, okay, and I need you to be honest. There is nothing more I want right now than your cunt squeezing around my cock but I need to know you want that too.”

“Yes, Halbrand, please.”

And that was all it took.

It was a blur as he moved clothes to the side but the moment his cock slid inside you, any moral dilemma or internal conflict disappeared. Only you mattered. Only how perfect your cunt wrapped around him was important. He held your face so he could watch how you reacted to him and he could tell from your lidded eyes and flush face you felt it all too.

"Fuck,” his breath hitched.“Fuck. Does my cock feel good, sweet one?”

You nodded, but again, that wasn't enough. He needed to hear your voice say it, “No, no, no. Use your words. Let me hear it.”

“Your cock feels good,” you breathed out.

Hearing you say that made his cock twitch inside of you. “Such foul words from such a pretty mouth.” His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I'm going to move now.”

You nodded before catching yourself, “please.”

One day, he'd have to make you beg for him.

He looked down to where your bodies connected and moved, watching his cock fuck your cunt for a moment before his attention turned to you. Your eyes rolled back and lips parted like a cock drunk slut already. His cock drunk slut. The slick sounds filling the room pulled his attention back to where you two met. The way you stretched around him was intoxicating to watch.

“You're taking my cock so well, sweet one.” He kept moving, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

Your hips moved to match his thrusts and the fingernails in his skin. You had broken so easily. Given into him so easily. He knew he could take you wherever, knew by the look on your face that you'd be his to fuck whenever he pleased.

“You're mine,” he whispered. “This my fucking cunt, isn't it?”

“My cunt is yours,” you whined.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He thrusted deep and hard, watching your face. You were his. His alone. No one could have you. No one could dare. He'd burn the world to the ground and everyone with it. He'd drown the world in blood. No sin was too dark for him to commit, not if he ended back here. Deep inside you.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and he couldn't have that. He roughly squeezed your cheeks until your eyes opened.

“Eyes on me. Focus on the feeling. I want to see how good I make you feel. Look at those pretty eyes. Those. Pretty. Fucking. Eyes.” He gasped, his grip on your face tight. You whimpered and arched into him.

Something about how you looked at him in that moment, he realized you owned him. He was yours. No one else's. No elf. No Maiar. There was only you. You were his religion, and this was his worship. He was yours. You owned him. He was ruined for anyone else. Perhaps you were not made for him, but he for you.

“You feel that cock, huh? It's yours, only yours. This is your cock, sweet one. I am yours.”

He could tell you were close, and he was too. How he wished it was his true name falling from your lips. He fucked into you harder and harder.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered, “tell me you love me, and I will come undone.”

He needed it. He needed the release. He was desperate.

“I love you.”

It was music to his ears. Moments later, when your cunt clenched around him and cries ripped through your body, he was soon to follow. His head buried in your neck as his warmth coated you. Your name passed through his lips. He would never be sated. He would always need this.

And later that night, long after you fell asleep, as he caressed your face, he knew he could never go back across the sea. He would stay here with you and prove his redemption to the valar. That he would start a family with you. That he would make you happy. The only thing that mattered more was keeping you safe.

Nothing mattered more than that.

[joostsblog]

caught in the middle part three: spinning ~ a Ski Aggu / Joost Klein x reader series

My masterlist here ✨💌 caught in the middle series masterlist here

Pairing: Ski Aggu x female!reader (+ Joost Klein x female!reader)

Description: You spend the morning with Aggu when an unexpected visitor causes you a little bit of emotional turmoil.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: reminder that this is "picnic day" turned into a series. If you wanna catch up on the other parts click the link to the masterlist above

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, nsfw, oral (f receiving), not proofread

Aggu's fingertips danced over the skin of your stomach and you giggled. After yesterday's events, he had stayed the night at your place and you had woken up to him watching your face. After some breakfast, you somehow ended up in bed again, slowly undressing.

That's when Aggu's hand grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. Your legs tangled with his, your hand on his chest and your lips pressed against Aggu's. His thumb drew circles on your waist and you cupped his cheek as you lost yourself in the kiss.

The shrill sound of your doorbell suddenly rang through your ears and you groaned in frustration.

"Doesn't matter," you mumbled and kept kissing Aggu choosing to ignore whoever was at the door. Aggu's arm drew you even closer to him and you deepened the kiss. Another ring at the door. "Jesus Christ," you groaned.

"You might wanna get that," Aggu suggested and patted your back.

You got up from the bed and quickly grabbed some shorts and a T-shirt to put on before you stumbled through the corridor to the front door.

"Joost!" you stated surprised after you opened the door.

"(Y/N)." Joost grinned at you. The man looked as good as ever standing in front of you and you were embarrassed by the state of you. Messy hair and clothes, no makeup, cheeks and lips probably flushed from your arousal. "I like that shirt," Joost pointed to your chest and you looked down at yourself to see that you were wearing the I ♥️ Joost Klein shirt he had gotten you as a gift a while back.

"Oh," you laughed softly.

"Anyways," Joost continued. "I got your picnic blanket," he said and extended said blanket towards you. As you and Aggu left in a hurry yesterday you had left the blanket with your friends behind. You do remember some talk of someone getting it to you today but you really didn't expect that person to be Joost somehow.

"Oh, right. Thanks," you said and took the blanket from his hands, not really knowing what to say next. Suddenly you noticed Joost's soft smile drop from his face before you heard Aggu's voice coming from behind you.

"Aaayy, Jooooost!" Aggu stepped into the doorframe only dressed in his boxer briefs and you immediately wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

"Aaaay," Joost replied as Aggu engulfed him in a hug.

"What's up, man?" Aggu asked.

"Just dropped by real quick," Joost shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the door frame hoping this interaction would end as soon as possible. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Joost asked and for a millisecond, you hoped he meant you.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," Aggu replied and you breathed a sigh of relief as the two men said their goodbyes.

"See you," you said to Joost with a timid smile.

"See you," he nodded as he turned around to leave.

You closed the door and dropped the picnic blanket to the floor.

"Jesus," you muttered and Aggu furrowed his brows questioning. "Whatever," you brushed it off and were glad when Aggu didn't press any further.

You pushed Aggu's body to get him back into your bedroom and soon you were laying on the bed again, lips pressed against each other. Aggu's hands fumbled with the fabric of your T-shirt.

"I'd rather you take that off," he grinned and you pulled the shirt over your head.

"Fair enough," you said before leaning down to kiss Aggu again.

"Sit on me," Aggu said as he briefly broke the kiss. You shifted between the messy bedsheets and quickly straddled Aggu's hips. He grinned up at you, his hands resting on your hips. "I meant somewhere else," he said mischievously.

"Oh."

Aggu's hands moved to remove your shorts quickly before he placed them on your hips again. His hands guided you until your bare pussy was above his mouth. You grabbed the headboard of the bed to steady yourself as you lowered yourself down, quivering with anticipation. Aggu met your wet pussy with his open mouth, his tongue slipping into your folds and immediately circling your clit. He almost appeared greedy as he opened his mouth further, taking more of you in. Your arms trembled when his tongue dipped into your hole and a soft and warm wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body.

You were desperate to feel more so you started moving your hips back and forth, making your clit dance on Aggu's tongue. The moans that escaped your mouth were obscene and grew higher as the arousal kept welling up inside you. Aggu hummed against your pussy approvingly when he noticed that you were close to your orgasm. As his tongue focused on your clit again he slipped two fingers inside you, his fingertips softly stroking against your walls as he slowly pumped in and out of you. Your arms were close to giving in as you were just at the tipping point before cumming. Aggu's arm steadied you to prevent your body from flopping forward, his tongue flicking over your sensitive bud. It didn't take much more before you were a trembling mess on Aggu's tongue as your orgasm washed over you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Aggu's lips kept on sucking on your clit until you couldn't take it anymore and you mumblingly told Aggu to stop.

You collapsed beside Aggu on the bed. His fingertips danced over your stomach. His eyes were so lovingly and his smile was so soft and you wondered what this feeling in your gut you couldn't quite describe was. In this bed, it was just you and Aggu and in that moment and time you could see a future pan out for the two of you. But you knew that outside of his moment, there was also Joost who complicated your feelings quite a bit.

But at this moment you decided to let yourself get lost in those eyes looking back at you and that was all that mattered right now.

[hitmehardnsofttt]

speak up for me, boss

FYI: modern au, abby fcking anderson, boss!abby, sub!abby, dom!reader, teasing, edging, fingering, scissoring, cursing, mildly proofread. smutty smut smut. (not a continuation of my last one shot btw) enjoy slores. 😇

usually your quarterly 1 on 1's with your boss took place in the mornings, but for some reason abby had emailed you late last night asking you if you could stay after work today for the meeting instead. once the end of the day drew near and you were the only one left in the main office, you worked quickly to shut down your workstation and head to abby’s office. last night, you had no reason to think this meeting would be any different than the ones that came before it, but something seemed off with her today. all day it seemed like she had this look in her eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. your suspicions all but confirmed when you walked into her office and she insisted on you closing the door...and locking it behind you.

when the hell has she ever asked me to lock the door?

"go ahead and have a seat." abby instructs.

you sit down without much hesitation as you and abby have always gotten on quite well. but the vibe feels…different this time.

i can't quite put my finger on which direction this meeting is heading in…but i think i might have an inkling.

"do you know why I asked you to stay after work today?" asks abby.

"uhh…uhm…no..I can't say that I do....have i done something wrong, boss?" you ask her genuinely.

“actually....quite the opposite. your performance has been stellar to say the least… sales have nearly doubled and our investors are basically begging for properties to develop. you promised to make this real estate company millions..and you’ve done just that. i gotta say…i admire a woman of her word. a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it.” abby asserts. her eyes glued to yours at first before venturing down to the slight cleavage poking out of your blouse.

oh. you try not to smirk. about time. i knew i wasn’t imagining things these last few months.

she stands from her chair. her arms and hands extended out as she hovers over the desk and leans towards you.

“show me."

a shadow of a smirk peeks across your face.

eh, a little begging never hurt.

“i'm sorry, w-what do you mean? show you what, exactly?” you ask her innocently, despite knowing exactly what she means.

she hesitates. this flips a switch in you.

"use your words, abigail." you demand.

abby’s lightly freckled cheeks go red as her stomach fills with butterflies at the sheer intensity of your words.

“i want you to show me…. how you would use me...how you want me to please you…” abby pleads with those big blue-green eyes of hers. they’re filled with so much….eagerness.

you stand from your chair...slowly but sensually walking over towards her side of the desk, positioning yourself behind her chair. out of her sight, you unbutton your blouse and sneakily remove your turquoise lace panties from beneath your skirt before you instruct to her, “pants. off.”

abby quickly drops her slacks as instructed. she’s left standing there in her dark green skin tight compression shorts.

still standing behind her, you grab the back of her shoulders, and place her back down in her seat with ease. eager to keep building her anticipation, you unbraid her hair out of that long braid it’s always in before you remove her button up, sports bra, and tie.

“i like it down.” you compliment.

you can’t see it, but abby smiles shyly.

“now…those arms….back here. behind the chair.” you demand.

abby makes quick work to wrap her buff arms behind the chair and you use her work tie to bind her hands behind it, leaving her…. helpless. you make your way around, facing her. her nipples standing at attention for you.

you drag her chair out so you are able to climb on top of her thick muscular thighs and into her lap. once in your desired position and no longer able to keep yourself from touching her, you finally throw your arms around her neck and kiss her as passionately as you can. you start to grind your hips against her to find that rhythm that’s just right. the movements providing a perfect balance of friction between your sensitive clit and her.

you kiss against her neck and down her chest. you tease each nipple before your hands start to wander….there’s just enough room for you place one hand down her shorts. you reach for her slick soaking folds. drawing circles around her growing clit. her hips buck instinctively in response.

"pretty girl.” you tell her before placing another teasing kiss to her neck.

“your pussy is telling on you sweet girl. you're dripping down to your thighs…all this for me, huh?” you chuckle.

abby blushes. her head down. she’s unable to make eye contact.

you shake your head. “uh uh.” you lift her chin with your free hand.

“look at me, babygirl. look at me while i stretch you out over my fingers..” you instruct.

with your eyes connected, you watch abby’s as your fingers work masterfully beneath you. curving up into her pussy at the perfect angle. she’s like puddy in your hands.

“i-just..just-just like that…fu-“ she’s unable to maintain eye contact or finish her sentence, her eyes starting to roll back as you can feel her walls tightening around your fingers.

i know she doesn’t think she’s getting off that easy. no pun intended.

just as the pressure starts to build, you remove your fingers from inside of her. her moans turning to whimpers in response. her breaths slowly returning to normal.

“why did you….w-why did you…” she clears her throat. “why did you stop, baby” she asks with the poutiest lips.

you raise your soaked fingers to her pink pouty lips.

“hmm i just thought …maybe you deserve to have a taste. “

you take your soaked fingers and place them on her lips. her tongue working around your fingers response, just begging for you to stick them down her throat further. she swirls each digit around her tongue, tasting every drop of herself.

“that’s my good fucking girl, abby.”

maintaining eye contact, you taste those same fingers, not daring to miss out on your handy work.

“you taste so fucking sweet, baby,” you tell her.

her muscular body shivers in response beneath you.

fuck. i need to feel her.

you rush to climb down from her lap and untie her. you shove all her work shit off of her desk with a quickness, not caring about the mess.

“shorts off. get up there. now.” abby quickly does as she’s told.

you climb on top of the desk, working yourself in between abby’s legs, moving her heavy thighs into the perfect position for you to get your clits touching.

the moment your budding clits meet…abby is overcome with sensations. you begin to grind against her. slowly at first, allowing her to soak in all the pleasure.

“h-holy fuck.” she stammers.

“nobody’s ever…fuck…nobody’s every made me feel this…t-this good..” she struggles to get her words out.

you pull her leg closer against your chest, tighter, working your cunt as deep into hers as you physically can. the sounds of your wet pussies smacking while loud moans also fill the room.

"yeah? you're just an obedient fucking slut, huh “boss”? letting me put you in your place?”

you feel her pussy start to pulsate and the sounds coming from her mouth are….guttural.

“god your clit’s so fucking hard and wet against mine...such a slut for me...”

her breathing becomes heavier. all of her muscles tighten as she moans in response, unable to muster any words.

“fucking cum for me abby.” you demand as you speed up your thrusts to a rate that seems unimaginable.

her eyes roll towards the back of her head. her blonde wavy hair all over the place. the pressure on your clit from fucking hers is about to send you over the edge and abby’s… close…..you can feel her pulsing beneath you.

“sh-shit… “ she murmurs. “i’m..baby…right there…don’t stop, don’t stop” she murmurs.

your thrusts slow in response. at this point, abbys used to your teasing. she knows what she needs to say to get you to speed up again.

“please baby don’t stop fucking me, p-please”

you reach down, spreading her all the way open as you slowly work your hips right back into the perfect position, placing your sloppy wet pussies back together in unison.

“god this pretty pussy was made for me, abby,” you clamor out before picking your pace back up. the sounds of your soaking cunts and moans get louder and louder as you both near your apex.

“ i’m…i’m almost….fuck i’m about to cum for you,” abby cries out. her last words before her pussy is soaking yours with her sweet release.

“that’s my good..fucking..girl.” you respond.

she grabs your leg, pulling you closer, instinctively using you to reach every last bit of her orgasm and you too finally come undone just at the sight of her being so desperate and needy.

“you’re so fucking perfect.”

you slow your thrusts....not wanting this to ever end. your pussies kissing slower than they have been all evening as you're trying to make it last. abby groans in response.

"speak up for me, boss. i can't hear you clearly when you're being so whiny" you tease.

"it’s s-so s-sensitive… i-…can i cum again, please?” she asks. she nearly has tears in her eyes shes so desperate. she starts to try to gain more friction against you but you grab her leg and lock your arm around it, stopping her from doing so.

"ah ah ah..what do you think you're doing? needy fucking slut aren't we?" you tease.

"baby...please..." abby huffs as she begs.

"you can’t cum again until you explain to me how fucking bad you want it, abby. no, how bad you need it.”

[handdrawnverathin]

Hi. So, uh... it's been a while. And after all this time, I think it's time to be honest with myself and admit that this animatic is probably never going to be finished. I started it when I'd only watched a couple POVs of Third Life and it really shows in the designs. Some of them aren't bad - I still like how I drew Tango - but enough of them have details wrong or just weird vibes that continuing to draw them is kinda dissatisfying. That being said, I put a lot of work into it and didn't want to let it just die without saying anything, so here's a collection of GIFs from the few scenes I managed to get edited.

For the record, I am still on the Hermitcraft/Life Series brainrot train and I have some drawings that I've been working on that I genuinely like. So hopefully those will be done soon! Just as soon as I finish that one project that I started eight years ago. But it's getting there! I swear!

Also: for anyone interested, I've included the original frame-by-frame plan below the cut

SONG: Willow Tree March, The Paper Kites

Intro

Feet swinging over sandstone cliff face (0:00 - 0:05)

Lower half of Grian’s face visible, whistling (0:05 - 0:12)

The cool bit

Fade to front face view of Grian, looking up slightly (0:12 - 0:16)

Real quick zoom out to all players standing in a row looking dramatic (0:16 - 0:28)

Title card fades in as overlay (0:20 - 0:28)

Player introductions

(0:28 - 0:30)

(0:30 - 0:32)

(0:32 - 0:34)

(0:34 - 0:36)

Peaceful times

Grian walking through a forest, early morning. First frame is a footstep, then a side view of him looking around (0:36 - 0:44)

Flower Husbands meeting, afternoon. First frame is Scott peaking into the hole from outside, then Jimmy looking up at him sheepishly (0:44 - 0:52)

Renchanting looking up at the sky, sunset. First frame is a hand raised to block the sun, then a rear-view shot of them from the waist up (0:52 - 1:00)

Phantom shelter, night. First frame is a wide view of the group either hiding or fending off phantoms, then a close up of a few of them laughing with each other(1:00 - 1:08)

FIRST DEATH

Wide shot of Scar burning the tree (1:08 - 1:12)

Close-up of Grian’s face as he looks to the side. Creeper visible in the reflection of his eyes. (1:12 - 1:16)

Scar doing some smooth talking. A wisp of smoke fades in behind him.(1:16 - 1:20)

Close up of Scar’s face turning around, eyes widening (1:20 - 1:22)

Yellow heart (1:22 - 1:26)

The promise

Wide shot of Monopoly Mountain, cut to close-up of Grian swearing loyalty with a hand over his heart (1:26 - 1:34)

Close-up of Grian’s face, mostly the eyes, looking a little unhappy with the whole situation (1:34 - 1:42)

Tensions rising

Skizz looks at an enderman: over-the-shoulder shot of him looking back, then a close up on his eyes widening (1:42 - 1:50)

Cleo threatening Pizza - animated? Initial/final poses plus two in-betweens (1:50 - 1:58)

Tango’s lava game: first a close up of his smiling face, then a wide shot with his arms outstretched in front of the challenge (1:58 - 2:06)

Scar threatening Ren for the enchanter: first an over-the-shoulder shot of Scar, then one of Ren (2:06 - 2:14)

Uh-oh

Wide shot of ceremony (2:14 - 2:18)

Ren, kneeling, waist down and cloak on (2:18 - 2:22)

Low-angle shot of Martyn looking very uncomfortable. Winces a bit, axe raised and…  (2:22 - 2:28)

Swings down. We get a flash of Ren's face, grinning, before fading out. The red eyes linger just a bit longer. (2:28 - 2:32)

O_o

Flower wall burns down (2:32 - 2:40)

Rear view wide shot in silhouette

Front view, sad and also a little horrified

Desert battle (2:40 - 2:48)

Profile view of Grian with a slightly manic smile on his face as explosions go off. The camera is pretty close to him, so we can’t actually see the explosions, but add in some effects and it’ll get the point across

Siege of Dogwarts (2:48 - 2:56)

Aerial attack using slowfall arrows

Ground combat feat. Joel and dogs

 Bdubs kills Impulse, Scar kills Bdubs (2:56 - 3:04)

Interlude

Scar (right) kneeling in the water before Grian (left). We can see Scar from about chest down and only the lower half of Grian’s legs (3:04 - 3:12)

Low-angle shot of Grian looking down at Scar holding a sword. We can see Scar’s head and maybe a bit of his back depending on camera angles. (3:12 - 3:20)

Fade to the Tree in a dark void, glowing as if by firelight. Very slow pan out. Fade to a wider view before the light is extinguished, leaving us in darkness.  (3:20 - 3:28)

Ghosties (dark gray background, white outlines)

Jimmy/Cleo/Skizz (3:28 - 3:32)

Joel/Scott/Etho (3:32 - 3:36)

Tango/Ren/Martyn (3:36 - 3:40)

Impulse/BigB/Bdubs (3:40 - 3:44)

They want blood (survivors haunted by ghosts)

Grian, with chestplate and sword, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else(3:44 - 3:48)

Scar, also not having a good time, sword and shield but no chestplate (3:48 - 3:52)

Facing each other, no weapons or armor. Scar of left, Grian on right (3:52 - 3:56)

Close up side view of Grian’s face: scared, then steeling himself (eyes closed) then shouting as he runs in (3:58 - 4:02)

The girls are fighting! ;A;

(4:02 - 4:10)

(4:10 - 4:18)

(4:18 - 4:26)

We have a winner

Full body behind shot of Grian standing at the edge of the cliff before falling (4:26 - 4:36)

[gfmima]

category : 米哈游 原神 work title : admiring his scars… gone sensual? (real)

the forest was alive and well with the sound of nature — the flora and fauna alive and healthy, tighnari made his way towards the riverbank near gandharva ville. his appearance, a disheveled mess that bears the mark of his forage for new species of fungi through the landscape of sumeru.

with a huff, he decided it was best to cleanse himself of the earthly remains adhered to his skin prior to his return to the village, and the river offered him the perfect respite.

unbeknownst to him, you were bound to visit the area that morning as well.

the silky music of water flowing down the long stream grew louder and louder as you stroll the familiar dirt path, a coiled basket of laundry in hand and supported on your hip.

your grip almost loosens when you behold the scene of him beginning to undress. the begrimed shirt glides over his shirt, and reveals his chest and the faint play of sinewy muscles underneath the taut canvas of skin. he had a rather handsome face too, framed by a pair of expressive ears that unfurled outward.

mesmerized, you drink in every detail of him. the contour of his physique and the labyrinthine pattern of scars etch onto his back. although you did lack the medical expertise to say, even to your amateur self, these were anything but ordinary and benign. you wonder, what had brought these markings on him?

your breath hitched when your gaze drifts to the expanse of his back, admiring the inviting lines that drew you lower and lower… he was beautiful, and everything about him made it impossible to look away.

the fallen leaves beneath your sandals crunch loudly, his ear twitches in response. an eyebrow arched with intrigue while he acknowledged your unforeseen company.

“i wasn’t aware other people knew of this area,” you stutter, the slight tremor in your voice reveals your true emotions, “i wash my clothes here.”

tighnari blinks.

“i’ll be quick then,” he answers, a hint of irritation creeps in his tone. it was accidental, though, he didn’t mean to come off annoyed.

your cheeks turn flush as you watch him rise from the river, water cascades down his form. you immediately close your mouth, there was no need to make a bigger fool of yourself now.

“ah! don’t mind me! i’ll, uh, i’ll wash these on the other end,” you hastily assure him, walking backwards, then retreating in the opposite direction.

he stares, unabashedly, at the way your attire molds to your form. the sheer, damps fabric left little to the imagination. a warm sensation engulfed within once you realize his intense fixation. embarrassment? unease? whatever it may be, you were overwhelmed by his attention.

he diverts his gaze, now engrossed by the water, his lengthy tail sways independently, causing ripples to manifest.

your heart raced while you observe him from your periphery without a care. the air filled with unspoken attraction, and a tempting force drew you closer. he clears his throat:

“thank you for letting me stay.”

you nod. “still, i apologize for the intrusion. i, genuinely, had no idea you were here.”

“there’s no need to apologize, i wasn’t aware either; do give me a moment to finish.” his ears flicker in anticipation.

you pivot, your steps measured as you settle on a section of the river to launder your garments. every stolen glance only heightened the persistent tension. while he cleansed his arms of the dirt accumulated, he inwardly chastised himself for his behavior.

“lummox,” tighnari snaps, moreso at himself, but you didn’t know and start washing your clothes faster.

exhaustion stained his body like a second skin when kazuha reached the crux in the evening. his muscles ache, beads of sweat trickle his forehead as he rested on the wooden steps and ran his fingers through his locks.

he unties the band that tied the tuft of hair together and let out a weary sigh. bathed in the warm, muted light of the city harbor lanterns, he eases under the pleasant ambience that cocoons him.

you had always been curious of the dressings he donned on his right hand, a strange accessory that never failed to pique your curiosity. what happened? why does he adorn it? what is there to hide? you cannot remember a time when he didn’t wear it; regardless if he bathed, ate, or slept — his bandage-laden hand remains. the serene atmosphere of the moment provided the perfect backdrop for your question to leave your lips.

almost.

“i can feel your stare on me.” he shakes his head with a faint chuckle. you weren’t a subtle one at all.

your heart stops. “...may i?”

his eyes meet yours, then drifts to his hand. contemplative. after a pause of silent consideration, he nodded, a nuanced gesture that sends a shiver of anticipation to cascade down your spine.

celestia seems to hold its breath as you took a step towards him. with rather light fingers, you held his hand in yours. the feeling of its soft cloth against your skin was an odd sensation. you uncover his bandages, slowly revealing what hid underneath.

each layer you undo reveals an inch more of his skin for you to gape, and with every bit of gauze that falls to the ground, the tension in the air becomes more evident. it was as if the environment buzzed with unspoken desire, luring you into a daze.

his focus danced from your gentle scrutiny to your scrutiny to your inviting lips, his breath turns shallow and rapid.

the final veil of gauze unravels and you are immediately met with the sight of his naked hand; flesh decorated with scars that convey tales of adventure and tragedy overcome by his bravery and selflessness — most of which he had yet to tell.

with utmost care, you secure a fresh set in place. your wary fingers brush against his skin as you work meticulously and cautiously.

the slight contact was enough to kindle a fervor among you, intensifying the magnetic pull that had been building inside the second you offered to change his dressings.

although mundane, it held a depth of intimacy that exceeds the expectations of the crew for the new couple.

kazuha had always been discreet about his life, not due to a lack of trust, but for his own hesitance. how does he narrate the twists and turns that shaped him into the man you knew today? how does he condense it into a short retell and not garner pity for his misfortune? it was too complicated in his mind.

and so, to witness him now willing to give a silver of his past marked a significant milestone in your relationship.

when you were done, you cannot help but say — your voice, a soft caress, “you have very pretty hands.”

unwavering.

his eyes tarry on your lips, brimmed with craving that mimic your wants. he can barely fathom your praise as he reached his other hand and cradles your cheek. his thumb traces the contours of your bottom lip. his ardor stare confounded you as he guided you closer and closer…

the world dissolves into nothingness.

your surroundings tapers until there was little to no space in between your bodies, ensnared in an embrace. the kiss was tender yet intense, a true consequence of affection that had long been denied.

soft and warm, the taste of him was dizzying. you notice his hand slip from your cheek to hang on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling with strands of your hair and deepening the intimate gesture.

you were grateful the ship crew decided to rest early for the night, allowing both of you the privacy of having the deck to yourselves.

chest to chest, you feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. as you finally part from one another, you sit there, slightly gasping for air. your forehead leans against his, trying to catch your breath.

“you find my hands very pretty?” he sweetly murmurs, and tilts his head. he watches you hide your face, a muffled, “l-let’s not dwell on that! i’m already mortified by what i said!” can he heard.

kazuha smiles.

“don’t be… i think it’s endearing,” he chuckles, moving your hand away from your face to sneak one last, innocent peck on your lips.

[milliesfishes]

꣑ৎ౨ৎSylph꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: murder, descriptions of blood pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you are famed as a maneater, a monster. when Billy meets you he finds out the truth Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

In a small town, even the slightest step out of line makes the morning paper.

Billy's arrival had caused ripples to expand outwards in the pool of gossip, whispers of an outlaw with a life-altering bounty on his head skirting him wherever he went. Over time they grew used to him, saw that he was hardly a threat to everyday life. Billy's reputation was an outline he had never fit into, and he was long used to folks having to learn that for themselves.

He had made a life for himself here. Honest work abounds, he lived quietly, disturbed no one. The dust his arrival kicked up settled down, and now he was a fixture in this place no more harmful than the horses tied up outside the general store.

As he became more involved, taking drinks with the others in his line of work late at night, Billy began to hear the tales of secrets buried beneath the surface. When the bar had emptied out and it was only him and a table of men under the glow of the lanterns, half empty whiskies in front of them, he first heard the whispers of you.

"She kills men," one man said, taking a shot and wiping his mouth. His eyes were wide as he told the tale. "There was a fella not six months back...newly married to one 'f the daughters of the richest man 'round these parts..." He drew a line across his neck, signaling his demise. "Found him dead a week after the weddin'. They never could prove it was her, but..." he gave a slow nod.

Billy furrowed his brow, listening interestedly. Another man jumped in, nodding. "'Bout a year ago there was a buddy 'f mine who knew 'er. Said she wasn't so bad." His face went bitter. "He went the same way. I know it was her even if the law looked the other way."

"What's she look like?" Billy leaned forward, looking back and forth between the two men. By all rights, his interest was piqued. This all reminded him of the folk tales his mother used to put him to bed with, only this one was apparently real.

"Gorgeous," the first man mused, taking another sip of his drink. He leaned his cheek on his hand, the brim of his hat shadowing his eyes. "She'll draw ya right in. Like a poisonous flower."

"You won't see her if ya don't go lookin' for her though," the second man cut in. "Keeps to herself. Lives a ways outside 'f town. Good thing too," he scowled. "Or the folk who live here'd have her head."

Wary of their warnings, Billy kept his eyes peeled for any sight of such a woman. On his morning rides especially, when he was well and truly by himself. He also took into consideration the fact that they had been drunk, and whatever they'd told him was likely a tall tale born of two unconnected accidents. He knew oddities, having been one himself. Just because someone didn't live in town, didn't mean they were dangerous.

Today the day was bright, the quiet of the morning a peaceful contrast to what lay ahead. The sky was still streaked with the color's of the sun's greeting, some entity's paint covered fingers dragged over cerulean. Dew dripped from the grass, the earth still dormant as it opened its eyes and laid there in the aftermath of sleep. Billy steered his horse through it all, grateful for the world's allowance for him to see it this way.

As he passed through a shady grove of wildflowers, the strangest feeling that someone was watching him overcame his being. In Billy's experience, such a thing was often associated with danger. Suddenly alert, he dismounted, drawing the gun at his hip and surveying the land. A tranquil picture of nature greeted his vision, the epitome of peace.

He was just about to turn away and count this instance as an episode of superstition, when a branch snapped nearby. His outlaw's instincts were quick, gun pointed in the direction of the noise. "I know someone's there!" he called, taking a single step forward. "Show yourself."

There was a beat of silence, in which he was sure he'd been talking to a rabbit or a fawn. But slowly, surely, the sound of footsteps graced his ears once again, and a figure ducked under the branches and came into the light.

Billy was instantly disarmed, and his gun was lowering before he could even think of it. Because the sight of you had knocked down every defense he thought he'd had.

In only a white chemise edged with lace, hair tumbling over your shoulders like a rippling waterfall, you peeked shyly up at him, eyes round as the moon and filled with just as much mystery. Someone could have taken him out easily with how stunned he was.

Perfect lips parting, a voice like music drew from them. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

Dazed, Billy shook his head, still taken by the sight of you. "No...no it's alright." Gun still in hand, he tilted his head. "Are you...are you lost?" It was a vastly unusual thing to see a woman by herself in the woods in such a state of undress.

You shook your head, looking up at him with a doe-like expression. "No. I just wasn't expecting to see another person out this early."

He was quiet for a moment, simply taking in the sight of you. If you were the girl in the woods the men had spoken about, you didn't seem dangerous. Indeed, he was sure their stories had been just that, and they had been using the fact that you were a little different to make things up.

Stepping forward, Billy sheathed his gun, tipping his hat. "'s alright. I come out here often in the mornings. Just ridin'."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you looked behind you briefly, as if checking for something. "And do...?" Your question trailed off, and you shifted on your feet. "What do you see out here?"

His eyebrows quirked at the question, and he studied you closely. "Just the regular things I s'pose. Nothin' out of the ordinary." The sun's rays peeked through a slew of tree branches, highlighting your face in a way that made it seem angelic. "I...I think I've heard folk talk 'bout you before."

"Hmm." You folded your arms, seeming to retreat into an invisible shell. "I can only imagine what they're saying."

"Just that you're..." Billy didn't want to mention the falsified tales of your taste for blood. "...beautiful," he finished lamely, cheeks flushing slightly.

You almost seemed disarmed by the comment. Arms falling to your sides, you watched him with round eyes, a hint of surprise reflected in the pools of them. No longer skittish, you seemed to be intrigued. He felt as though he'd calmed a wild horse. "Beautiful?"

The repetition of the word made Billy smile. "Beautiful," he confirmed.

A whisper of wind caused the grass to graze around your knees, the nearby wildflowers brushing your skirt like a kiss. They only contributed to his awe. You were equivalent to all the wonderous things of the world; life in all its splendor.

In an instant Billy knew. He was head over heels.

Sure as the stars dotted the sky and the moon smoothed its lovely cheek over the velvety surface, you became a fixture in Billy's life.

It was unusual for a week to pass without him seeing you nearly every day. You were nearly his nectar, his life force. Even the mere sight of you rejuvenated him no matter what the previous events of the day had beaten him with. Billy became more enamored with you by the minute it seemed. Every facet of your being you revealed seemed to unlock a different sort of wonder in him.

He could feel the emotion building up, overwhelming his every waking moment. It was a momentous thing; one he couldn't ignore even if he'd wanted to.

Right now, the vision before him was unrivaled, and you its lively star. Stretched out in the grass, twirling a daisy in front of your eyes, Billy could have sworn he was dreaming. When you caught his eye, a smile sweeter than candy overtook your expression. You stretched out a hand, waving your fingers at him. "Won't you join me?"

He was powerless to resist. You were a lit match and he a helpless moth. Sitting beside you and sliding an arm around your waist, he rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your ambrosial scent.

You were fidgeting lightly, grinding your teeth. Long used to this, Billy didn't comment on your odd habit. It was happenings like these that he figured had swayed the townspeople away from you. He suppressed an eye roll at the thought. Small minds were a common occurrence.

Turning on your side, you looked up at him with the most darling baby doll eyes he'd ever seen. No fairy could mimic such a sparkle. He nudged a kiss into your lily-scented hair. "What've you been up to, darlin'?"

"I was in the garden nearly all day," you mused, reaching over and sticking your daisy into his buttonhole. "It's the first day in so long without rain."

Billy listened to you talk about your beloved flowers, entranced by your voice. Even the dullest of topics was music to his ears when it was your voice which graced his ears.

How could anybody ever think the angel in front of him dangerous? All he saw was a misunderstood woman who lived beyond the bounds of society. Why anybody would ever choose to say such horrible things about you he did not know.

You were shy, demure as any person he'd ever met. Often you would twitch or have little spasms that made you whimper and dive into his chest. Oh how privileged he was to protect you. On full moon nights you refused to be seen, telling him you were afraid. The first time he had offered to come in and be with you, but his offer was denied with a flurry of appreciation.

"Thank you," you whispered through the crack in the door. "But I need to be alone right now. I'll see you tomorrow, Billy."

You never told him, but he noticed the pattern. If the moon was round like your eyes when you saw something particularly wonderful, you would retreat under the guise of not feeling well. Unusual certainly, for someone to be ill at such regular intervals.

He worried about you at such times. It was so clear you needed him then, but you pushed away any and all help he offered. It irked him to no end.

Finally after the fifth time of this happening, he resolved to push through. If you weren't at your best, he wanted to be there for you. It was an unsworn vow he took with all those he cared for. To protect and comfort and show that they weren't alone.

So, as the moon's silvery face turned fully toward the earth, he knocked on your door, prepared to argue his way into your doorway and plead with you to let him help.

No answer came. He frowned. Were you asleep, maybe? Tossed into a fever-induced chill? Billy was about to knock again when he heard footsteps behind him. Then his name. "Billy?"

Turning, he saw you there, standing barefoot, bathed in moonlight. Here was your most glorious form, the one he had never been privileged to see you in. The duration of the form lingers far after it is seen, the duration no matter. Here was a sight to be imprinted on him forever.

You were in that same chemise as when he'd first laid eyes upon you, although it was stained with something dark. Mud? He was unsure.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breathlessly, a strand of hair falling in front of your face. He almost reached out to tuck it away.

Instead, Billy stood up straight, taking a step forward. "I was worried 'boutcha. Since you're...you're sick, right?"

A sudden sound made his head snap up, and he whipped his head around, looking for the source. Your lips were slightly parted, eyes widening just barely. "Everything's fine. You should be on your way."

Moving backwards, you turned to go back in the direction from which you'd come, but Billy caught your arm, searching your eyes. "Hey. What's the matter? You seem...on edge."

You forced a smile, shaking your head, and Billy nearly drowned in the vision of you again. He knew what the men had meant when they said you drew people in. There was an ineffable energy about you that suggested he would bleed himself dry if you so much as asked. "It's alright. I'm...I'm fine." Another glance from you was cast toward the other direction, and he frowned.

Before you could protest, he moved forward, brushing aside the tree branches to find whatever you had come from. His eyes searched the clearing, until they landed on what you'd clearly been trying to hide.

One of the men from the bar, the one who had proclaimed you akin to a poisonous flower, was lying there, bloody and still, dead eyes glassily staring up at the sky.

Billy stood frozen in shock, unable to tear his eyes away. The rumors were true. They had all been right about you.

Turning back to you slower than death, Billy could only stare. The mark on your dress wasn't mud. Despite all of this, you still maintained your doe-like appearance, looking innocent as day. He felt shaky, his knees weakening.

You started to hold out your hands, but noticed they were stained with crimson as well and withdrew. Lower lip trembling, your voice hitched with tears. "Billy..."

He took a step back, dazed and utterly lost. "The...the hell's this...?"

"Let me explain. Please," you whispered, folding your arms around yourself. Red traveled from your hands to your elbows at the print of your fingers.

Billy was too stunned to do much other than stand there. You took his silence as a chance to continue, each word hitching on a sob. "I...I know what they say...about me. But I have to Billy. Please believe me."

"Have...to..." he croaked, feeling faint. "You..."

"When I was a child, I was cursed," you breathed, looking down. "I know it's...it sounds ridiculous. But I swear it's true."

Heart pounding, he was still struck speechless. The quiet sweetheart in front of him was capable of such acts of horror most men wouldn't dare venture near. He carried that burden in himself, and it was a weight beyond what he knew the world to be capable of.

"Every month," you continued, your words broken. "I have to kill. I have to end someone's life in order for me to stay living. It's been this way for as long as I can remember. I've only done it to people who were awful." Gesturing to the corpse behind you, your hand trembled. "He beats his wife. And hits his children. And I-" you cut yourself off, a single teardrop like a pearl trailing down your face.

Life as Billy knew it was spiraling out of control. Heartbeat in his throat, he nearly stumbled back. The tornado picked up dust, clattering in his mind as the thoughts he had previously known became blurry. Everything was spinning and swirling until he met your eyes.

Angel eyes. The dust settled, and all time stood still. And then the incredible burden this forced thing must have on you hit him. You had to kill. You had no choice.

He was reminded overwhelmingly of himself.

Without thinking, Billy moved forward, taking your hands in his. You struggled slightly, worried about the blood, but he persisted. In a smooth motion, he brought them to his lips, holding them there for a long while. Nose nudging against your knuckles, Billy looked up at you, his breaths faint. Looking at you had always had such an effect on him. Then, a single word probed his lips and escaped. "Sweetheart."

If he could have cut out his heart and given it to you on a ring he would have. Now you were rushing into his arms, head against his chest as he held you tight. Your voice was muffled against his chest, and he buried his nose in your hair. "I...I was going to stop. Let myself go and never hurt anyone again. But...but then I met you. And I didn't want to die. I don't wanna die Billy..." a soft cry drew from your throat. "I don't want to..."

He shook his head, holding you close. You were his girl. His sweet, innocent girl still, no matter what the world had forced you to do. Now he appreciated beyond everything the fact that you were still good and kind despite the awful thing you were forced to do to stay breathing.

And you did it for him. He was the reason you wished your heart to beat.

Billy pulled back slightly, holding your face in his hands. He leaned down, pressing the softest peck he could manage to your lips, taking his time to caress you gently. You melted in his hands, becoming every good part of the world again.

It was a love as unyielding as all nature, an emotion softer than velvet and firmer than stone. It was everything contrasting and everything the same.

When he pulled back, lips ghosting yours, it lit like a thousand fireflies in his chest. In the black spots in your eyes, still the only dark thing about you, Billy could see it there too. This love was for everything but it existed because of you. It all stemmed from one woman whom he'd hold and protect for all time.

Kissing your brow, Billy let his lips linger there for a moment as he whispered, "Let me take care of the body."

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3

[poge-life]

Interview where reader’s character is taken to singh’s mansion instead of kiara and reader and drew talk about how interesting it is play enemies even though they’re dating irl

This was the final interview of the day and you couldn’t wait to go home and change out of the dress you were wearing. You and Drew had been in Interviews since 8 this morning and you were running on very little sleep. You and him just got done doing the ‘20 questions with MTV’ and now it was the interview about the new season.

You let out a yawn as you leaned your head on Drew’s shoulder. He placed a kiss on your head before leaning his against yours, placing his hand on your thigh, “This is the last one.”

Lacing your fingers through his, you gave his hand a squeeze, “Any for tomorrow? Just wanna know how much sleep I’m getting.”

“None, I think.” Drew told you as the interviewer sat across from you. She gave you both a smile, which you returned as you sat up, still holding onto Drew’s hand. She had a sympathetic look on her face as she noticed your sleepy state, “I promise we’ll get through this as quick as possible.”

“So, your characters clearly have hostility towards each other on the show,” she started, “and yet, you two are together. Is it hard to act like you don’t get along?”

You looked over at Drew, thinking about your answer as he spoke up, “It was at first. Her and I got along really well when we started filming and since we had most of our scenes together, we spent a lot of time together. I think it’s harder for us now to act like we hate each other just because we know we could never actually be like in real life.”

You brought the microphone up to your mouth as you grinned, “It’s definitely more challenging for us to get through a scene without laughing just because we can’t ever be super serious with each other. I know I struggled a lot at the start trying to get myself to even remotely feel like I hated you just because you’re nothing like Rafe.”

“Thanks, baby.” Drew winked, bringing your hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of it

“Do you guys think your characters will get together on the show later on?”

“Honestly? I hope not,” you answered, “Only because I feel like it would be really random just because it’s very obvious Rafe and (y/c/n) hate each other.”

Drew nodded, “Our characters do better not being together. I would like to see them kind of work together, in the future. Whether it be to team up against the Pogues or just them working together.”

“I feel like (y/c/n) would try and kill Rafe in his sleep if they ever got together, just because of how much they don’t get along,” you added with a laugh, “Also, she could never have the same chemistry that Rafe and Barry do.”

[ryomku]

yellow flowers - kamo choso

synopsis: “when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you”.

tags: choso x reader, fem! reader, fluff, aged up characters, college au!, no curses au!, use of y/n

a/n: i know nothing of nursing nor am i a nurse student or stuff like that so there might be some mistakes on choso´s career, idk it's like 1am and i'm crying

a/n 2: i’m mostly doing this after the leaks of chapter 259 cause i'm still crying and i need something soft in my life right now, this is based on a real experience, sorry if there's any typos english is not my first language

As someone who has never received flowers their whole life you don't get the appeal of such displays of affection, dads giving flowers to moms, boyfriends giving chocolate to their girlfriends, you just didn't see the need for such things.

In your eyes this was something unnecessary and silly, your parents never showed affection towards each other, in reality the only interactions they had were arguments which always occurred very early in the morning, at the hours where everyone is meant to be asleep and that you couldn't help but overhear.

Since they always talked about you and your problems that don't really exist, they were just looking for an excuse to say what they really think about each other.

As time went by you just didn't pay attention to any of those things, you had a very neutral opinion about flower giving, yet there were people who said, “You're a pretty girl. How come you've never received flowers before?” Genuinely you didn't know what to answer since you don't have low self-esteem and you love yourself the way you are because there's nothing wrong with the way you look or feel, so it was something that could not be answered.

Yet on valentine's day one of your friends gave you and your girl friends some plastic roses as a token of appreciation and it genuinely surprised you because for many years (or your entire life) you've never received gifts on valentine's, it was a nice gesture you though you thought it might be the last time you get a flower.

You were proven wrong.

On September of last year you met Choso Kamo on the bus you took on the way to college he was a nursing student, more specifically a phlebotomy technician, in your life have you ever seen someone so passionate about their career, the way in which he spoke about every detail regarding his classes it was hypnotizing it drew you in, suddenly you became friends and later one he introduced you to his friend group.

Soon enough it was a new year full of new classes, new teachers and the same friend group that had your back.

Time flies fast they say and suddenly it's March 21st and somehow the entire campus is covered in yellow. Wherever you walked there was people selling bouquets of sunflowers and daisies, girls all dolled up in pretty dresses, guys wasting ridiculous amounts of money on flower bouquets or in plushies it was weird something wasn't adding up.

What festivity happens today? The thought flooded your mind, you felt and looked clueless about the things that were happening around, still there's no time to waste cuz classes start soon.

10:00 am

Luckily the philosophy of education class was a free hour since the teacher didn't show up, there were so many things you can do in a free hour like eating, sleeping or just hanging out with friends and forcefully you had to choose the last one, against your own will.

“Heh Y/N could you come real quick to the cafeteria near the med students building?” Was the message that Yuki sent you a couple minutes ago.

In your way to said building more couples hugging and kissing surrounded the entire campus, it was getting too uncomfortable with how intense some of them were kissing in public.

Upon arriving at the cafeteria you spotted your friends quickly noticing two flower bouquets in front of Choso.

“Those flowers must be for his siblings. Didn't know Yuuji liked flowers so much.”

That's what anyone would think because since you met Choso he always spoke highly and dearly of his brothers, they were his entire life and his reason for becoming a nurse aside from his interest in the career.

Seeing how Choso cares about his siblings is another thing added to the mental list of things you like about him. Is there someone out there who doesn't have a crush on him? Cuz you find that hard to believe, just by feeling the way you felt nervous and the butterflies in your belly would be going crazy every time he talks to you.

Liking Choso was inevitable, like a storm or a hurricane, it was just meant to happen.

Liking Choso was something that involuntarily at this point in your head was always his face, his voice and even the small hugs he gave you every morning upon arriving at college.

Liking Choso was unexpected, you always thought that you might never have someone to like in your life since you didn't want to end up like your parents, living in an unhappy marriage full of arguments and sadness.

Liking Choso makes you feel human.

‘’Hi Y/N! What took you so long?’’ said Yuki as she moved her backpack to give you space to sit down next to her.

‘’Stupid philosophy teacher didn’t even send a message in time and had us waiting like idiots outside of his classroom.’’ You said as you sat down beside your blonde friend.

‘’Y/N here you go.’’ Gojo (your other friend) handed you a package of cookies.

‘’Why are you giving me cookies?’’ As you ask you gave him and Geto (who was handing you a bag of candies) a pointed look.

‘’Just cuz we want to and because you’re a good friend and we appreciate you.’’ Weirded out you accepted the gifts.

As you turned to put the gifts in your bag they drifted off to a conversation with Shoko, Nanami and Haibara though your attention was caught by the flowers displayed on the tablet in front of Choso the curiosity was eating you up.

Somehow Choso was a lot quieter than usual, which is fair enough he is really quiet and only gives his opinion or joins the conversation when he feels like it yet today not only was he quiet, he seemed uncomfortable and it was very clear, his facial expressions gave it away.

Suddenly Yuki stands up and walks behind Choso grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand towards one of the flower bouquets, in unison the rest of your friend group starts laughing while Gojo being the menace he is, starts recording everything.

‘’Come on man we all know you are a coward and if we don’t help you’re never gonna give her the flowers.’’ Said Yuki while laughing and giving you a smirk.

‘’Hold o-on Yuki! I don’t wanna do it with a-all of you here!!’’ Choso started to pull his hand away from the flowers all while his face gained a red hue and stuttered.

You gave all of them a questioning look. Choso was gonna give someone flowers? Did he like someone? If so, who was it? Was it a friend of yours? Or was it someone you don’t know of?

Questions filled your head as a sudden feeling of uneasiness gained a hold of your heart, it was kinda stupid that you thought someone like Choso might like you back, you hated the attitude you had with people, sometimes you would come off as rude or at worst having a potty mouth which you only spoke like that with close friend, Choso being one of them, probably your carefree attitude and shity mouth drove him away or he generally just didn’t like you as a person.

Maybe he never noticed you at all.

It only hurts because you thought he might like you due to the shyness he had around you which you liked a lot, even your friends would tease you both, while it made you giddy inside you never really knew if Choso felt the same way.

Now that you think about it the teasing started with Geto and Haibara saying Choso wanted to take you out to the movies, that never happened, the only reaction you both had was pure laughter.

You were so out of it drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Choso grabbing the flowers and standing in front of you, flowers in hand and a blush on his tattooed face while he handed you the flowers.

‘’These are for you Y/N I hope you like them.’’ He gave you the flowers while looking away.

That made you snap out of it.

Choso, he gave you yellow flowers.

HE GAVE YOU FLOWERS!!

Choso’s face was a poem, truely. You looked so shocked, that he started to question if buying you flowers was a good idea.

Did you not like them?

Were the flowers too simple?

The thought of you rejecting him crossed his head. What was he going to do if you rejected him? It was going to be so embarrassing, he was gonna be rejected in front of the whole cafeteria, that only increased his anxiety.

Suddenly his ears were blessed with your soft laughter, his heart fluttered.

Your beautiful smile, the soft laughter and the cute blush in your cheeks made the anxiety go away, then he saw the most in love look in your eyes. Oh, how he loved your eyes, he could get lost in them for hours.

He felt a pair of arms around his neck in a warm embrace, all he could hear was a soft whisper.

‘’Thank you, Choso.’’

His arms circled around your waist holding you in a gentle hug, his warm hands rubbing circles, he didn’t even notice that he no longer had the flowers in his hands.

‘’Y/N I like you.’’ His smooth and deep voice whispered in your ear, the warmth in your cheeks increased.

‘’I like you too Choso.’’

They say that when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you, and Choso knew since the moment he saw you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 18

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You/OFC

Summary: your new nurse starts, making your life easier. Time away from Jake has you making some questionable decisions.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism/almost getting caught, femdom, etc.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

There’s no other way to describe what you and Jake do for the next several hours than making love. On your bed, in the shower, and once more as the sun rises when he wakes to leave before Drew does.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” He whispers as he looks for his jeans. You want nothing more than to sink your teeth into his butt cheek when he turns but you instead bite your lip, knowing you don’t have time to start anything.

“Reese?” He looks back when you don’t answer and grins at the heated look in your eyes.

“Hmm?” Your eyes finally leave his tush, and your face heats at being caught ogling, “Oh, yeah, lunch sounds good.”

He chuckles as he puts on his jersey from the game before leaning down for a kiss. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too,” you smile as he pulls back.

You cover your face with a pillow before squealing a teenage girl as the front door closes.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Even though you manage to get to work early, Shae’s already there.

“Ready for your first day?” You ask when you see her.

“I am,” she answers, the bruising under her eye gone, “I looked over your preferences while I waited. It all looks familiar so I shouldn’t have any problem getting caught up to speed.”

“I didn’t figure you would,” you smile as you set yourself stuff down, “let me give you a quick tour and we’ll get the day started.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

By mid-morning, Shae’s already exceeded every expectation you had; anticipating and preparing what’s needed for exams, filling out your forms, and pending the orders so all you need to sign. Sophie was a wonderful nurse, but Shae takes things to a whole new level.

“I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without you,” you tell her truthfully as you break for lunch, 15 minutes earlier than normal, “seriously, you’re doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” she flushes as she looks down at her shoes, a little bashful.

“You’re welcome,” you reply, “I usually have lunch in here with Jake, my boyfriend, and Rooster, an old friend of mine. They’re both naval aviators.”

“Rooster?” She asks, looking up quizzically.

“Ah, sorry, that’s his callsign,” you laugh, “his real name is Bradley; you can call him either. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

A look of unease passes over her face but she quickly recovers. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta let my dog out. I haven’t found anyone to walk him yet; I’m pretty sure he’d be fine all day but I’m staying at an Airbnb until my apartment is vacates in a few weeks so I don’t want to risk any accidents.”

“Understandable,” you smile, “the offer stands if and when you want to.”

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile of her own.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Where’s she going?” Bradley asks, stopping by the door to your office to watch Shae leave.

“To let her dog out,” you reply, smiling at Jake as he pushes Roo through the door, “I told her she could have lunch with us but she’s staying at an Airbnb right now until her apartment is ready and doesn’t want to risk him having an accident.”

Bradley nods as he takes a seat, “You guys going to Penny and Mav’s for the 4th?” He continues when you both nod, “You could ask Shae if she wants to come.”

“I’ll ask,” you answer, “I’m not sure she’ll say yes, but I’ll ask.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you say gently as Shae clams up when you ask her at the end of the day, “and there’s no pressure, either. You can say no.”

The way she visibly relaxes when given a choice makes your heart hurt.

“I’ll think about it,” she says, “if that’s okay?”

“Of course. There’s no rush; Penny will be plenty of food and drinks either way,” you smile at her as you pick up your bag and keys. “Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” she smiles, “you too.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next few weeks pass quickly and June turns to July.

Shae hasn’t had lunch with you yet, but she’s slowly opening up.

Due to the upcoming holiday, it’s a short week; which you’re especially grateful for since you and Jake haven’t had much time alone together since Drew’s been home from camp between your busy schedule and Jake’s frequent overnight training. Your bed has never felt more empty but you’re not sure if you should ask Jake to move in yet.

“See ya after lunch,” you tell Shae as she picks up her keys to head out, “tell Hank I said hi.”

The way she lights up when she talks about her dog, Hank, makes you smile.

“I will,” she laughs, “be back in a bit.”

She still hasn’t given you an answer for the 4th of July party, but you weren’t going to push.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Hey,” you say, looking down at your phone when you hear her come back, “the last patient of the day canceled, so we’ll be done early this afternoon. How was Hank?”

“Acting a little weird, but good,” she replies, her brow furrowing, “he’s usually asleep when I get home, but he was up and pacing by the door. I thought he had to go potty really bad but he didn’t go without some coaxing. Who knows, probably just heard a squirrel or something.”

“Probably,” you agree, but it doesn’t sit right with you. By the look on her face, it doesn’t sit right with her either.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You text Jake before your last patient but he doesn’t answer when you’re done. Instead, there’s one from Roo when you check after saying goodbye to Shae.

Rooster: Hey, saw your name come across Jake’s phone. He’s in the air.

Reese: Thanks, I was just letting him know I finished up early.

Rooster: He’ll be down soon. I’m in the ready room with the recruits if you wanna see your man in action.

Reese: You know I do. 🏃‍♀️

Rooster: 🙄

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Still on for the Hard Deck tonight?” Bradley asks after he nods you over by him by the wall. Several recruits are watching with rapt attention.

“Mhmm,” you answer, looking for Jake out the window, “Tina picked up Drew from the sitter already, so we’ll probably head back to my place after Jake’s done and then we can pick you up on the way.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be ready,” he replies, pointing when they come into view, “that’s him, he’s after Mav.”

They’re razzing each other over the coms and you have to bite your lip at Jake’s quips. Hearing him so cocky and sure of himself was getting you hot.

It’s not long before you hear the tone lock. “Gave me a good run,” Jake laughs, “but I gotcha, old man.”

“You did,” Mav’s laughing too. “Bring ‘er in. You’re all dismissed. Have a good weekend.”

The recruits woop before shuffling out, leaving you and Bradley to watch as Jake brings the down the multi-million dollar jet with ease before bringing it into its designated hangar.

You nearly whimper as he walks across the hot tarmac to toward you, flushed and a little sweaty in his flight suit.

You want him. Now.

“You’re drooling,” Bradley teases as he wipes the corner of your mouth, breaking your trance.

“Fuck off,” you smirk, not taking your eyes off Jake until he’s out of sight, making his way up the stairs to you, “I’ve seen the way you look at Shae; all longingly, like a love-sick puppy.”

“Whatever,” he laughs, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn red.

Jake walks in and his face lights up when he sees you. He looks even better up close, smelling like fresh air, clean sweat and jet fuel.

“Hey,” you say, refusing to cringe at how breathy you sound, “you looked good out there.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs, looking you up and down, “you look good in here.”

Bradley gags. “On that note, I’m leaving. Don’t fuck in here, okay? The door doesn’t lock.”

“We won’t,” you reply, eyes not leaving Jake’s, “See you in a bit.”

“Walk me to my office?” You ask as your fingers walk up his chest to toy with the zipper by his neck, “I forgot my keys.”

“Sure,” he nods, “lead the way.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You can almost feel him watching your ass as you walk across the base ahead of him to your office.

The clinic is quiet and dark; seems everyone’s gone for the long weekend.

Perfect.

Jake apparently has the same idea as you. He crowds you against your office door when you turn around after locking it.

He leans in like he’s about to kiss you but diverts at the last minute, instead pushing your hair aside to kiss along your neck, “This is a terrible idea.”

“It is,” you agree breathlessly, finding the zipper by his neck and pulling it down slowly. It feels loud, too loud in the stillness outside your office, “at least I won’t be the one caught with my pants down.”

“Wha-oh,” he catches on when you turn him before pushing him against the wall by the door as you pull his flight suit down with you as you kneel. “Wait,” he says, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you mouth him through the fabric of his underwear, moaning at the taste of his precum, “I haven’t showered.”

“I don’t care. I’ve missed you,” you reply, yanking down his boxer briefs. He’s already so hard and precum beads at the tip, making your mouth water. You both moan when you lick it off, “and you always taste good.”

He whines as he watches you sloppily lick his cock up and down, wetting it thoroughly with your saliva before pulling him into your mouth. His hands slide into your hair as you bring him to the back of your throat and tighten as you swallow.

As much as you want to tease him and drag this out, there’s always a chance someone’s around even though it looked deserted. Your hand slides up the inside of his trembling thigh to cup his sac; the other coming to jerk him in tandem while bobbing your head.

He sighs, eyes closing as his head drops back and hits the wall with a thud, “it’s been too long, I’m already close.”

“What do you mean too long?” you pull off to ask while your hand keeps stroking stroking, “you haven’t jerked off?”

“No ma’am,” he replies, eyes still shut tightly as he shakes his head, “you didn’t say I could.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t either,” you tease, trying to keep your voice even as you rub your thighs together. “But I’m proud of you.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am,” he pants.

“So good,” you purr, “saving all your cum for me.”

He nods, gasping when you grip him firmer and stroke faster.

“Give it to me then,” you murmur before sucking him into your mouth again.

“Fuckkkk,” he tenses, but the door handle beside him jiggles, making you both freeze.

Jake’s eyes fly open in panic, meeting your wide ones.

“Hello?” A gruff voice comes through the closed door, “anybody in there? I’m here to clean.”

You slowly shake your head as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth before you start to drool.

Jake’s hands grip your hair tighter and his hips jerk at the feeling.

“Not sure if I have a key to this one or not,” the janitor says to himself before you hear the clink of his keychain.

The cleaning staff doesn’t have a key; only you and your boss do. But Jake doesn’t know that.

Jake’s eyes widen further as he tries to pull you off, but you just suck him further into your mouth, not stopping until he bumps the back of your throat. His balls draw up to his body as you ignore the tears prickling at your eyes. Then you swallow again.

He bites back his groan while his fingers pull your hair almost to the point of pain. His cock twitches and you swallow pulse after pulse of his warm cum greedily, whining softly as your neglected pussy pulses with need.

“Hmm. Guess not,” the man behind the door says, whistling as he walks away.

Jake’s chest heaves as he slumps against the wall to recover, “C’mere,” he pulls you to him to brush his lips over yours, “that was the hottest, most terrifying experience of my life.”

“I think so too,” you murmur, “and I knew he didn’t have a key.”

Jake chuckles, as his hand slides over your hip to find the drawstring to your pants, “God, you’re something else, Reese. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile, but it turns into a frown as you reluctantly stop his fingers, “as much as I want you to, Bradley is expecting us soon.”

He sighs, nodding after a moment before releasing you to zip up his flight suit, “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“You better,” you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips before quietly opening the door. Jake follows after you make sure the coast is clear.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Best two outta three?” Bradley asks an hour later as he pulls the darts from the board.

“Nope,” you smirk, holding out your hand, “Pay up, Roo.”

Jake laughs as he begrudgingly pulls a 20 from his wallet, knowing you’re going to buy the next round with it.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and your stomach sinks when you see that Shae’s the one calling.

“It’s Shae, I’ll be right back,” you say, turning to step outside where it’s quiet.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Hey Shae,” you answer, “what’s up?

“Hi Dr. Kerner,” she replies, sounding like she’s about to cry, “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

“Please, call me Reese,” you remind her gently, “you’re not bothering me at all. Is everything okay?”

“No,” her voice breaks, “it’s not. He-Chad…my ex, he found me.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: sorry about the cliffhanger! Don’t hate me! The first chapter of Shae’s story will be posted next.

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