#i miss blue and violet so bad

[godsbajablast]

I’ve been playing Outer Wilds again and I came across this one quote that I’ve been having thoughts about with Blue and Violet ( @amazingdeadfish )

[xullian]

The smilies [3

Swap belongs to P0pc0rnPr1nce/ UT community

Swapfell Red belongs to blackggggum

Swapfell belongs to kkhoppang

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 4 || The Power of Lust

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of smut, & sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——IT WAS ALMOST AS THOUGH twenty-four hours had gone by in the simple blink of your eye. The day of your date with Geto arrived much sooner than you anticipated.

You had expected the hours to be long and for every second to be excruciating. These expectations of yours quickly went down the drain when you found yourself at the front door to Gojo and Geto's apartment the next day.

Fiddling with your fingers, tugging at the bottom of your violet-shaded dress, and tapping your foot on the floor below due to an excessive build-up of nerves. Your heart is pounding. Why? Because the dress you're wearing is far too short and tight, it reveals an unnecessary amount of cleavage, and having your back exposed doesn't help much either.

Of course, it was Gojo who'd bought the dress for you. He told you that Geto would like it on you so, here you are.

You insisted with Geto that you'd meet him at his place at 7 o'clock but here you are ten minutes before seven trying to pull yourself together. After all, the date itself isn't exactly important. It's seducing Geto and convincing him to have sex with you as soon as possible that is.

A hand has been raised to the door of the apartment time and time again but never did you knock. You refused to. Given how worried you are, you stand there rehearsing how you expect this night to go mentally.

It should be simple; greet Geto, go out to a nearby restaurant, get to know him enough while flirting with him, and ultimately... fuck him by the end of the night.

Easy.

...

Right?

No. Not even close. There's absolutely no way you can do this. You got lucky with Gojo; he already wanted to sleep with you. Geto is a whole different story, hell, he's literally a stranger to you. Nine times out of ten, your words will fall off your tongue the second you lay eyes on him.

But then again, just maybe it won't go so bad. The trick to flirting is simply being quick and witty with your responses. Just lure him in. It won't be hard.

With a deep breath and a small friendly smile, you finally tap your knuckles against the door.

It takes a few minutes but after your knock, instead of Geto opening the door, it's Gojo who flings his front door open.

That smile of yours drops instantly as you meet those annoying blue eyes of his.

"Satoru, what the hell?" You whine.

Naturally, you're bothered by the way you had finally managed to get somewhere only for Gojo to open it.

His bright white locks of hair are noticeably wet, his eyelids low, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and his black sweats just barely hanging off that oddly attractive waist of his. That stupid smirk of his that he usually gives you is missing but his face is reddened and he looks slightly out of breath.

With a head tilt and leaning his body against the door frame, Gojo speaks to you in a startlingly low tone. "Thought' I told you to call me when you got here...?" He huffs.

You roll your eyes, "Why would I call you when I'm not here for you? And are you okay? Why's your hair wet?"

For a minute, Gojo is unresponsive. Not because he wanted to be rude or anything but because the man was far too distracted taking in your appearance. Your hair was done nicely, he swears your face is glowing in perfection, and the way you look in that tight dark purple fabric only makes Gojo furrow his brows as he focuses on it.

All his attention goes to the way the dress clings to you, the way it shapes you, and even that faint but pleasant scent of perfume that radiates off your skin.

With no response from him yet, you loom forward a little, "Satoru? Hello?" You call out. His gaze is slow but it eventually settles on your eyes again after you raise a hand to snap your fingers at him. "Are you okay??" You repeat.

Gojo nods lazily, a clear lie but you don't exactly get much time to scold him about it because the male steps forward and shuts his apartment door behind him. On instinct, you step back. His lack of words to you is odd, especially since he's normally so talkative. And this look in his eyes...

"The dress looks good on you." He compliments while taking yet another step toward you.

You swallow hard, "Thanks but can you answer at least one of my questions, I'm already nervous enough as it is and I don't need you adding-"

Gojo steps forward again, causing your mouth to close as you step back into a wall. The hallway isn't exactly small but it sure felt like it with the way Gojo had you pressed against the wall.

Again, you swallow down your nerves and narrow your eyes up at the man. He heaves out a sigh and bends down to your level, meeting your eyes at a closer range and inching toward you. The closer he gets, the stronger this scent of freshness becomes.

As his face nears yours, you notice how ridiculously clear his skin is, how he smells like soap, and it doesn't take many other signs to realize that he'd recently got out of the shower.

"Satoru...?" You whisper, "Why are you getting so close?"

Your words come out slowly, anxiety building up throughout your veins. Gojo's head tips to the side a little and he suddenly places a hand at your waist. If you weren't already nervous you surely are now.

"Y'know," He begins, voice still low, "There's no time frame on the list I gave you."

Confused by his actions and words, your face scrunches up a little. "Yeah, I already knew that. Why are you reminding me?" You ask as you carefully slip a hand over his own and try to remove his hold on you.

Gojo licks his lips and gives you a tired little smirk, "Cause', you don't have to hook up with Suguru today."

You blink. "I know but I have to at least go on a date with him. This is all a part of my plan, y'know?" You say gently, attempting to lighten the oddly tense mood.

His sights fall to your lips, "Oh, you have an actual plan?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?" You huff out before moving your hands to his chest. You want to push him away a little but when you try, he doesn't budge at all.

Gojo instead only gets closer, his breath hitting your lips. The man then places his hands over your wrists and pulls them upwards to wrap around his neck.

Your brows immediately furrow again, "Satoru-"

"Can you kiss me?" He cuts off.

Your hands are already halfway around his neck but even as you comfortably wrap them, you want to tell him no. You really want to but with the way he's looking at you, how close he is, and how he refuses to look away from your lips... you couldn't get the word no out in time.

Gojo closes the distance between your face and his but he doesn't kiss you. His lips only brush over yours, "Don't make me beg for it." He hums.

You gulp, "Why... Why do you want to kiss so suddenly?"

Those pretty blue eyes of his finally glide up to your own and you can see the neediness in his gaze. "Just one?" He asks, completely disregarding your question.

"I..." You trail off. For a second, you'd forgotten what you came over for.

And it is in that second that Gojo's voice drops to a whisper, "Please?"

Who are you to decline Gojo Satoru of one kiss when he asks so nicely? Even though he's blackmailing you to do ridiculous things; his touches and his gentleness with you are what keep tugging at the strings of your heart.

Even now, the man peers down at you as if you are the very air he needs to breathe. It's like there's nothing else important to him-- not his best friend awaiting your arrival, not the list of people he's asked you to sleep with, just you and him.

Dropping your sights down to his lips and letting out a sigh, "Only one." You finally murmur in response.

It won't hurt, right? One little kiss?

You push up on your toes a little and tilt your head opposite of him as you press your lips into his. Surprise comes to you when Gojo hums against you as soon as he feels you. Hands slide to your waist and instead of a little peck on the lips, the two of you share one prolonged slow kiss.

Your lips part over his but his tongue is quick to slip into your mouth. Somewhere in your mind, you told yourself you should stop but when you have Gojo's hands all over you and when he begins kissing you harder, logical thoughts are quickly lost.

Plus, you had time before meeting Geto so you weren't worried about getting caught... for the most part.

The feeling of Gojo's hand against your exposed back makes you arch into him a bit. The two of you wet up each other's lips and his free hand goes to your hip, "C'mere," He whispers in between your lips before he tugs you closer.

Hums leave your throat as the slight groan in his voice causes you to lose all sense of thought. That's when you get into it a bit more-- sliding a hand up into his hair, pushing your chest flush against his, and slipping your tongue over his.

It's sensual and timeless. Everything about Gojo Satoru constantly distracts or consumes you. His hand is gentle against your back but the hold he has on your hip is possessive.

As though this small kiss was a reminder for you, Gojo wants it to be clear that even if you go off and sleep with every man on that list in one day: he's still here waiting for you. Blackmail or not, Gojo longs for this; your touch, your kiss, the sound of your voice, you. And it is this last kiss that he uses to tell you that.

Even though... you don't put all of that together in that moment. To you, he's just kissing you because he doesn't know how to control himself.

It's not long after the kiss grows more heated that the sound of his apartment door opening startles the two of you. Both of you tare your lips apart with a loud smack and you go as far as pushing him away a bit so that the two of you look inconspicuous.

"There you are," Geto's voice is heard from behind Gojo, "I was looking everywhere for you Satoru."

Almost like a switch was flipped, Gojo's voice is back to normal. "Yeah?" He says with a little chuckle.

Your body is blocked by Gojo so Geto hasn't exactly set eyes on you just yet. Before he moves, Gojo raises a hand to his mouth and swipes his lower lip with his thumb. His eyes are directly on yours and chills run down your spine as you watch him lick off, what you assume to be the taste of your lips, from his thumb.

With a shake of your head, you return your focus to your reasoning for being here. After which, you pop your head around Gojo's body and make eye contact with Geto.

"Oh, I didn't even see you there," Geto chuckles as he flashes you a smile.

Good lord, your predictions were right-- your mind is already scrambling for a response. Why? Because you're too distracted wondering if it's even legal to look that good. Then again, he's no different from Gojo; both men are absurdly attractive.

A long black trench coat hangs off Geto's shoulders, the grey-colored fabric of a turtle neck noticeable to you, and black dress pants. The entire outfit is fitting for the date you're going on and your attire compliments him so... Why the hell do you feel so self-conscious?

Gojo clears his throat, and steals one more full glance at you before turning his head to his best friend and smiling, "You didn't hear the knock on the door?" He asks.

"No, I didn't," Geto replies, looking slightly confused. "But it doesn't matter," He hums, shifting his gaze to you, "I'm glad you're here."

You force a smile, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of Gojo's lips over yours. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I knocked too softly."

Geto waves it off, his smile widening. "It's fine," He says as he glances at his watch, "You were early anyways."

Slowly, you step to the side so that Gojo is no longer blocking the rest of your body and that smile on Geto's face flickers a bit. His breath gets stuck right in the middle of his throat but he plays it off with a cough, turning his head to the side and looking away from you.

Gojo, who feels forgotten already, tries to enter relevancy by tossing an arm over your shoulder. You flinch a bit but he's casual with his next words. "She looks good, right Suguru?" He asks.

Geto inhales deeply and just barely looks at you one more time, "Too damn good," He mutters to himself before playing it off with a simple nod.

A slight squeeze is given to your arm before Gojo looks at you, "See? I told you he'd like it."

You shoot him a quick glare before pushing his arm off you, "Whatever."

Geto chuckles at the interaction between you and his best friend. From his perspective, you seem to always be annoyed by Gojo but that's nothing new to Geto. He knows firsthand how annoying Gojo can be sometimes so he understands your displayed frustration and thinks nothing of it.

"A-Anyways," You start, bringing yourself to Geto's side and smoothly slipping your arms around one of his. You then incline your head up to him, "We should get going now."

Geto glances down at you, uses every ounce of restraint he has to not look at your cleavage, and then nods. "Yeah." Looking back up at his friend, he smiles, "Bye Satoru."

You don't notice it but Gojo gives Geto a look before smiling. "Have fuun." Gojo teases, turning to head inside.

With that, Geto carefully pulls you along and the two of you head down the hallway toward the elevator. You turn back to look at Gojo one more time for reasons you yourself are unsure of, noticing that his eyes are quick to meet yours.

Gojo winks at you and you scowl, your reaction only earning a chuckle from him before he dips into his apartment.

Out of your sight, Gojo lets out a shaky sigh and looks down at himself. He's relieved that you didn't even realize the raging bulge in his sweats.

The male's back rests against the door and he tips his head back. Fuck, the way that dress looked on you was way better than he imagined it would.

You didn't know it but when you knocked on the door, Gojo had been in the middle of fisting his cock in thought of you. He'd been in the shower, water running down his toned body while stroking his length. All while replaying past events of you beneath him.

When he heard the door, he had to stop what he was doing because he didn't hear Geto answer it and didn't want you standing out in the hallway all alone for too long.

Then, when he saw you in that dress... he had half a mind to pull you into the apartment and fuck you against the nearest surface without a care in the world of your date with his best friend. The way you won't leave his mind is dizzying.

Even at this very second, his hand found its way wrapped around his cock again. Damnit, Gojo curses himself for the effect you unknowingly have on him.

Just what did he get himself into...?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In the elevator down, you remain close to Geto's body. He smells really good and it's only the two of you inside so you feel less awkward holding his arm. His apartment is decently high up in the building they live in, located on the ninth floor, so it takes a few minutes to get down.

And it doesn't help that the elevator is really slow, creaking and straining with each floor it passes. Around the sixth floor, you steal a glance at Geto's side profile. You just wanted a quick look at him, y'know to take in more of his appearance. Yet, you quickly forget the words you wanted to say.

Thus resulting in you admiring his looks from the side.

Your staring doesn't go unnoticed, "You alright?" Geto suddenly says, causing you to jump. Quickly, you take your eyes off him but he only smiles and turns his head to you, "I don't mind you staring but, you looked like you wanted to say something."

How did he see you staring without looking at you? You have no idea. "No, it's nothing." You say casually.

"You sure? Was there something on my face or...?" Geto questions further.

You shake your head, "Nope. I was just uhm..."

He tilts his head, focused completely on you and how you no longer want to glance at him. "Just what? Admiring me?" Geto teases.

You scoff playfully, "Yeah."

An eyebrow is raised, "Yeah?" He repeats.

"Mhm..." You nod a little, still refusing to look at him again. You can't handle the eye contact.

Geto smirks, "Why'd you stop?"

You shrug, "I was done with my admiration."

"So soon?" He teases.

The way his eyes won't leave your face is frustrating. Your brain is already all over the place, wondering if you smell alright, look alright, and even sound alright. You haven't been on a date in so long so of course you're nervous.

You try focusing on the slow change of floors as the elevator descends but it's no use. Instead, you sigh and finally glance at Geto again, "Yup." You hum.

The moment you meet his eyes he grins, "What if I wanted you to continue?"

Flirt. Now's your chance. The whole point of this is to seduce him so do that. You tell yourself before smiling a little, "Do you?"

"Yes, actually." The man replies honestly as he drinks in the sight of your smile, "I like your eyes on me."

"Is that the only part of me you'd like on you, Suguru?" You suddenly blurt out with a boldness you didn't even expect yourself to have.

Geto pauses, having not expected you to utter such a thing so abruptly. After a second, he chuckles and sets his sights elsewhere, "Cute but, we can save that for later."

Damnit. The man is almost like a brick wall when it comes to having a sexual conversation. You wonder if it's obvious that you want to sleep with him. Are you being too transparent with your goals?

Wait... is this how guys feel when they take girls out on dates just to get in their pants? Damn, who would've thought it'd be so frustrating. Only difference is, your exposure is on the line here. Who knows what Gojo will do if you somehow fail to seduce any of the men on the list.

"Actually," Geto suddenly says, breaking you from your thoughts. "I changed my mind," He voices, looking to you.

Your heart sinks a little. Changed his mind about what? Is he about to cancel this date already? Did you go too far...? Shit, did you make him uncomfortable-

"Your eyes aren't the only thing of yours I want on me," He hums, now catching you by surprise. His arm then moves from out of your hold and is placed on your lower back, startling you for the second time in a row.

A sudden tug of your body to his has your heart beating like crazy. Geto peers down at you and tilts his head again, "I want your body on me too but we made reservations, gorgeous." He says, voice deep. His body then tips down closer to you, "You wouldn't wanna be late to that now would you?"

Your head shakes slowly, almost as though you'd been put in a trance by both his smooth words and intense look.

"That's what I thought," Geto moves a hand to your chin and pushes your head up further so he can get a clear look at your face. "So, you think you can be patient for me?"

You nod and notice how he looks down to your lips.

Placing a thumb to your bottom lip, he weighs it down slightly, "Words, use them. I haven't done anything to take your breath away yet."

A subtle wave of heat rushes to your face, "R-Right. I can be patient."

"You sure?" Geto teases.

The look in your eyes changes a little and you push your lips further against his thumb as if to taunt him. "Mhm." You hum in an innocent manner.

You weren't aware of it and nor did you mean to, but you definitely just gave him bedroom eyes. The sight has Geto clearing his throat and moving his hand from your face before looking away from you.

A ding is heard as the elevator finally reaches the lobby floor. Geto lightly pushes on your lower back and you get the hint by walking out slightly ahead of him.

As you step out of the elevator, Geto's eyes finally slip up and drop down to your ass. He tells himself it was an accident and that he didn't even mean to look but he most definitely does not try to look away once his eyes are there.

Even though he doesn't look away, he regrets his sight falling so low in the first place. The dress you're wearing is nothing more than a distraction. The man was already struggling to keep his mind at bay from when he first saw you. Then when you had looped your arms around his, he felt the side of your breast press against him and it caused his mind to stray.

The question you asked a few minutes ago was no help either. How ridiculous, asking him if he wants more of you on him. Of course he does, have you seen yourself? The way your eyes get all seductive when you look up at him, those little scoffs and giggles that leave you from time to time, and practically every time you touch him or he feels you, Geto finds himself affected by you.

So as he watches you walk a few steps ahead of him, eyes glued to your ass, he keeps replaying that question of yours over. He could've answered it so many other ways, all of which would probably have taken you by surprise.

He could only imagine the look on your face if he told you his true thoughts. How his mind forced imaginations of you over him, your thighs caging his head, cunt over his mouth while his tongue fucks up into you-

God, he should not be thinking like this. Is it because he's hungry? Perhaps. Geto tries to deter these thoughts by thinking of actual food, something that won't make him horny but will instead work up his appetite. And it almost worked too, that was... until you dropped your phone and bent over in front of him.

Poor guy didn't even realize how short that dress of yours actually was until you went down to grab your phone. It was purposeful too, bending over instead of crouching down, exposing more of your thighs and even giving the man a flash of the lace beneath your dress.

As you swipe your phone up, you take the quickest peak behind you to see Geto's eyes widened ever so slightly and his focus exactly where you wanted it. You intentionally take a second to get your phone in your hands to prolong teasing the man.

Geto, who definitely knows that all your actions are deliberate, shoots his eyes upward so that he's no longer looking at you. He takes a sigh, thinking that he's managed to control himself. Yet, his feet and hands never stopped moving. He stepped right into you, almost toppling your body over.

His hands moved instinctively, grabbing ahold of your hips so that neither of you fell over. Doing so, his crotch comes into direct contact with you and you're quick to stand up.

As you stand, you purposefully arch your back a little, prolonging the feeling of your ass pressing back into Geto's crotch. After trying so hard to control himself, your actions made all his efforts go down the drain.

Hands slide up from your hips to your waist and he makes sure that you can feel him against you as he moves to your ear.

"Careful now," He murmurs to you with a deep tone, "Bending over like that..." He moves his hand a little to tug your dress down properly so that it's not hiking up your legs, "Are you trying to show everybody what's supposed to be mine tonight?" Geto utters to you in full seriousness, tutting afterward.

You glance around the lobby, seeing only a few people scattered around, none of which seem to be paying the two of you any mind. "No one saw me but you." You respond to the man.

He scoffs, "Let's keep it that way. Don't bend over in front of me like that unless..." He holds his tongue, sighing instead.

Control, he's lacking it majorly right now. He was fine when he first met you, fine when you and he texted about the date, and even fine when you spoke on the phone a little.

Your head turns to the side and you meet his gaze, ignoring the pounding of your heart, "Unless what?" You say teasingly.

Geto stares at you with low lids, you're driving him crazy and the date hasn't even begun yet. Leaning in a bit closer to you, his lips nearing your own but never connecting, "Unless you wanna get fucked in front of everyone." He tells you.

Part of you wanted to tell yourself that this was just flirting but the way he gazes at you tells you otherwise. He's dead serious. So serious that you don't even have a response to that, whatever confidence you had before freezes and you just look into his eyes.

Your little pause gave you enough time to come up with a response, "Maybe I do," You blurt out before turning your head away.

You then start walking forward, Geto's hands slipping off your body as you do so. He raises one of those hands to his jaw and rubs it a little, letting out a scoff in reaction to your straightforwardness.

The change between the woman you present yourself to be now versus the woman he first met is quite noticeable. Not that he prefers one over the other, Geto enjoyed it when you were stuttering over simple words but he also likes how upfront you're being tonight. It makes him wonder if you'll still be acting this way later on tonight while he-

"C'mon Suguru, we have reservations to get to. Remember?" You throw out to him, taking him from his thoughts as you exit the building and he soon catches up to you.

Again, he scoffs. This time Geto smiles as he follows you out. Tonight will be fun. He thinks to himself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The two of you took an Uber to the restaurant, the air within the ride blooming with lust. His hand ends up resting on your thigh during the ride, playing with the plush of your skin every now and then.

Each squeeze he gives to your leg makes you squirm, whispering to him that it tickles and earning a chuckle from him. As the car drives through the streets of the city, Geto's hand only plans to tease you more.

At first, it merely rested atop your thigh, but as the ride continued, he slowly slid it so that his fingers were right against your inner thigh.

He continues to toy with your skin before he leans over to you, whispering into your ear, "You plan on teasing me all night?"

You smile, "Maybe."

His hand pulls on your thigh a bit, causing your legs to part. "Think you can handle what your teasing invokes?" Geto questions, almost as if he were trying to warn you.

You laugh his question off and turn your head to look at him, your faces closer than you expected them to be. "I think so, yeah." You say half-confidently.

The raven-haired male's eyes dip down to your lips and he bites down on his lower one. That hand of his begins sliding up and you gasp as his fingers tread dangerously close to your crotch.

"Yeah? Well, I'll tell you from now, you can't." He claims.

With a roll of your eyes, you scoff and turn your head away from him, "Whatever."

Geto's hand parts your legs even wider and he pushes himself to your ear, "You could hardly handle Satoru," He taunts, moving his other hand in between your legs and pressing two fingers against you. "What makes you think you can handle me, gorgeous?"

Your body tenses and you're quick to shoot your hand down over his wrist, attempting to move him away. His fingers knead into you and your jaw drops a little as your eyes widen. The two of you are almost to the restaurant and you're frantically looking at the Uber driver to ensure that they're not paying attention.

Luckily, their focus is completely on the road ahead but that doesn't stop you from feeling anxious.

You close your legs on Geto's hand and he snickers in your ear, "Want me to stop?" He asks.

Despite his question, his two fingers rub against your underwear, taking the idea of teasing to another level. Your head nods in response but your hips push into his touch a little, causing him to furrow his brows.

"Shit, you're naughty." He whispers lowly, "In an Uber? Seriously?"

"Fuck, n-no..." You murmur, turning your head to him, "Move your hand, please?" You slightly gasp out, arousal spurring within you due to the gentle teasing rub of Geto's digits.

He does, sliding his hand away just as you requested. A mischievous smile is plastered across his face now and you're quick to realize... Gojo was right; Geto does in fact plan to have a 'field day' with you-- and this was only the beginning.

That, and Geto just confirmed for a second time that he is well aware of your intentions, probably the list you're forced to go through, and even the fact that you've already slept with Gojo.

Damn that white-haired asshole. Of course he told Geto everything, you shouldn't be surprised.

The issue is, now you'll likely have to deal with Geto taunting you about that stupid list and he may not even sleep with you tonight just to tarnish your plans.Great...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[waitimcomingtoo]

Bruised Like Violets

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta are reunited after he is rescued from the Capital (No hijacking)

Masterlist

You raced down the hallway the moment you were told where Peeta was being kept. It had been 8 long, painful weeks of waiting for him to he rescued and finally, you’d gotten word that he was back safely. You pushed past guards and burst into the room he was in, heart pounding when your eyes finally landed in him.

“Peeta?” Your voice came out as barely above a whisper. Peeta had his back to you but you could see just from his neck how skinny he had gotten. He slowly turned to you with a hardened grimace on his face. Once Peeta’s eyes met yours, his entire face softened. His eyes glazed over with tears and his bloodied lip tugged into a smile.

“Hi.” He said in a small voice. You didn’t know what came over you, but you threw your arms around him and kissed him for the first time in 8 weeks. Peeta immediately melted into you and kissed you back out of instinct. When you remembered that your love was just supposed to be an act and there were no cameras around for you to be performing for, you jumped back.

“Sorry.” You said and touched your lips, which were buzzing from kissing him.

“Dont be sorry. Come here.” Peeta shook his head and pulled you back towards him by tugging on your jumpsuit. He kissed you again and you felt your eyes well up with tears as you kissed him back. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and tangled them in his unkept hair to get him as close as possible.

“I missed you so much. I thought you were dead.” You whispered against his lips as your tears fell down your face.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.” He said as he wiped them with his thumbs. That’s when you caught sight of the bruises on his wrists, as if he had been tied down repeatedly against his will. You then took in the rest of him and realize he was half his weight and covered in bruises and welts all over his body.

“Oh, Peeta. What did they do to you?” You whispered and cupped his face to see his black eye better.

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Don’t worry about it.” He lied as you continued to inspect his arms.

“Don’t worry? All I’ve been able to do since they separated us was worry about you. The only reason I agreed to be the Mockingjay was because they said they’d rescue you. You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind since the arena.”

“I didn’t know I meant that much to you.” Peeta said through a cracked smile.

“You’re joking, right?” You cracked a smile back before leaning in to kiss him again. You weren’t used to kissing when there were no cameras around, but you missed him so much that you didn’t even think about it.

“I’m so glad they got you out of there. I would’ve never forgiven Haymitch if you died. Or Finnick. Or Joanna. If I lost you…” You trailed off as your eyes welled up again. Peeta shook his head and cupped your face to get you to look at him.

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here.” He told you. You broke into a smile and pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re real. You’re in my arms again.” You gushed as you squeezed him as tightly as you could. Your moment was interrupted by one of the nurses taping your shoulder.

“We need to bathe him and dress his wounds.” She let you know.

“Can she stay?” Peeta asked without letting go of you.

“You probably won’t want to see this.” The nurse told you as she held up some gauze and sutures. You looked over at Peeta whose big brown eyes looked scared at the thought of being left alone again. You just got him back, so there was no way you were leaving again.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay.” You said to him. The nurse gave you a look and went behind Peeta to unbutton his hospital gown. When the gown dropped, your jaw went with it. Almost every inch of his emaciated body was black and blue. You could tell he had been whipped and beaten over a long period of time. You started to cry without even realizing it but quickly wiped your tears it look brave for him.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He assured you while the nurse started to dress his wounds.

“There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.” You whispered.

“You’re right. Hold my hand, please? So I can squeeze it.” He asked innocently. You couldn’t help but smile and took his hand to give it a big squeeze.

“Still keeping up with the lover boy act I see.” One of the nurses mentioned as the stitched something up in Peeta’s arm.

“I’ve gotten really good at it. You’d almost think it was real.” Peeta chuckled without looking at you, but it made you blush nonetheless.

“Almost.” You nodded, making Peeta look at you.

“I heard you had quite the lover girl act going yourself.” The nurse continued.

“What do you mean?” Peeta asked curiously.

“Yeah, what?” You laughed in embarrassment.

“You’re the Mockingjay. People watch you and then talk. I heard you were screaming and crying and hugging the TV every time Peeta was on. And then screaming some more at anyone who made a comment about the things Peeta was saying.”

“I was forced-“ Peeta began.

“I know. I made sure everyone knew. That wasn’t the real you that I know.” You cut him off before he could apologize. Peeta smiled fondly at you now that he knew you had been fighting for him, even when you were separated.

“It’s hard to remember the real me.” He admitted.

“I remember him. I’ll remind you.” You shrugged. Peeta smiled again, but just for a second until he was flinching from his sutures.

“It’s okay. I got you.” You squeezed his hand before kissing his knuckles. Peeta forgot about his pain momentarily and felt himself blush. You were being a lot nicer to him than anyone had been to him in a while. But even if he had been treated with nothing but kindness, any affection coming from you was enough to send a blush across his face.

“You need a haircut.” You said, pulling Peeta out of his thoughts.

“Thanks.” He chuckled and shyly ran his fingers through his hair. You felt bad for poking fun when you remembered he didn’t have any basic luxury for weeks and a haircut was probably the last thing on his mind.

“Or maybe keep it. Your curls are coming out.” You noticed and tugged on one of his blond ringlets.

“I know. I usually try to avoid that. It makes me feel like one of those white dogs they have in the Capital.”

“Hey. That sounds like someone remembers the old you.” You smiled at his remark.

“Yeah. I guess I do.” Peeta smiled in return.

“We need to bathe him now.” The nurse told you. Peeta looked around at the room full of female nurses and felt embarrassed.

“I can do it.” You said when you saw his face.

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” You shrugged and thought back to bathing him in the River during the first Games.

The nurses ran Peeta a bath while you helped him limp into the bathroom. Once his bath was ready, you helped him into it and got to work cleaning him off. You started with his hair, that looked like it hadn’t been washed since well before the second Games. Peeta was quiet as you poured water over his head until the water ran clear.

“You don’t have to do this.” He said quietly as you gently cleaned his skin.

“Yes I do. You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I would.” Peeta admitted before a comfortable silence settled between you. You’d been on the brink of death together and forced to feign a romance in front of the whole world, but this moment felt far more intimate than anything you’d done so far.

“This reminds me of the cave.” Peeta said after a minute.

“You remember the cave?”

“I remember every second. You took care of me. Just like this.”

“It’s what we do.” You shrugged and kept cleaning.

“When have I ever taken care of you?” He laughed sadly and looked up at you.

“You’ve taken care of me plenty of times. I usually take care of your body. You take care of my mind.”

“I guess we make a good team that way.” Peeta smiled shyly.

“We do. And that’s why we’re never getting separated again.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I know. But I can do my best to never let you out of my sight again.”

“I’ll do the same.” Peeta promised and looked up at you again. You cupped his chin and leaned down to kiss his nose, feeling his wet eyelashes brush against you as he closed his eye s

“Good. Now let’s get you dried off and I’ll show you to the dining hall.”

After helping Peeta get dressed, you linked your arm through his and guided him towards the dining hall. All eyes were on him as you got a tray and got on like. Some people thought he was dead while others thought he was a traitor for the things Snow had forced him to say on TV. But most people saw him as a hero and gave him warm smiles as they passed.

“Everyone is looking at me.” He whispered in your ear.

“They’re probably just excited to meet you after all the stories I told about you.” You shrugged and loaded up yours and Peeta’s plate with bread and soup.

“Yeah? Like what?” He smirked and looked at you.

“Like how loud you were in the woods when I was trying to quietly make it to the Cornucopia.” You teased him. Peeta rolled his eyes at you and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep himself balanced as you walked to a table.

“Hey Peeta. Nice to see you back.” Someone you didn’t recognize smiled at Peeta and patted his shoulder as he passed.

“See? They love you here. Because they know I love you and I’m basically a celebrity around here so they have to like what I like.” You whispered to him ad you sat down together across from Annie, and Finnick.

“Did you just say you love me?” Peeta pretended to gasp. You scrunched your nose and shoved a strawberry in his mouth to shut him up. You and Peeta noticed at the same time that Annie and Finnick were fully engaged in a makeout session now that they had been reunited. You gulped while Peter blushed and you made quick eye contact with each other. You didn’t really know the nature of your relationship at this point. There were no cameras to fake it for but being without him for 8 weeks made you realize you hadn’t faked a single thing.

“Of course I love you. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” You said after a minute to ease the tension. Peeta smile and took your hand to jokingly kiss your ring finger.

“That’s right. How could I forget we’re married.” Peeta humored you and squeezed your hand. Gale cleared his throat and the two of you finally realized he had sat down. Gale was eating his soup while staring daggers at Peeta, who looked uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you gonna say hello?” You calmly asked Gale.

“Hey, Peeta.” Gale grunted.

“Hi Gale. Thanks for helping to get me out of there.” Peeta said politely.

“No problem.” Gale muttered and looked away. Peeta’s hands had been bandaged after his bath so you got some of his soup on his spoon and held it up to his lips.

“Open.” You instructed. Peeta opened his mouth to accept the soup and swallowed it while you ripped up some bread for him. You put that in his mouth as well before giving him a glass of water. Peeta happily ate his food and smile at you in appreciation.

“Seriously?” Gale laughed meanly.

“What?” You wondered.

“You two. Do you really have to feed him?”

“I don’t have to. I want to. I missed him.” You shrugged and turned away from Gale to continue feeding Peeta.

“That doesn’t mean you have to feed him. He’s not a baby.” Gale said as if Peeta wasn’t right there.

“It’s okay. I can do it.” Peeta said and took the spoon from you. His hands shook as he dipped the spoon into his soup and it got worse as he tried to bring it to his mouth. By the time the spoon reached his lips, there was nothing left on it. You shot Gale an angry look for making Peeta feel like he had something to prove before taking the spoon again.

“I’ll do it. You fed me once.” You said and gave Peeta another bite.

“But this isn’t the first time you’ve fed me. I owe you one now.” Peeta said with a smile.

“Don’t worry about me. I have no problems stuffing my face.”

“It’s true. I’ve seen it.” Gale chimed in to remind Peeta that while he had been gone, Gale had been right there with you.

“It’s not very attractive.” You told Peeta.

“I’m sure anything you do is attractive.” Peeta replied, making you smile.

“Y/n, you left your shirt in my room last night.” Gale said, making everyone at the table look at him. Peeta frowned sadly and looked at you, expecting you to admit that you and Gale had been seeing in each other in a new way in Peeta’s absence.

“Oh. Thanks. I can grab it later.” You told Gale. Gale looked at Peeta and smirked, confirming Peeta’s worst fears.

“You were in his room last night?” Peeta asked quietly and looked at you.

“Gales been on the frontlines a lot and he’s been showing me some things he learned in training. One of them was how to make a tourniquet out of a shirt. I wanted to learn because if I had made yours properly during the first Games, you would’ve have lost your leg.” You said with a guilty look in your eyes.

“Hey, that tourniquet saved my life. I would’ve lost a lot more than my leg if you hadn’t made it. Don’t blame yourself.” Peeta said as he put his hand on top of yours. Gale looked between the two of you with jealousy brewing before speaking up again.

“I think I’m gonna skip training today. I’m still tired from how late we were up last night.” Gale added. You caught on to what Gale as trying it do and turned to a very jealous looking Peeta.

“We were up late discussing the menu for Haymitchs birthday dinner. It’s coming up soon and we wanted to hunt to have something special for him.” You explained.

“That’s nice. Maybe I can bake something for him.” Peeta offered.

“We have enough food planned.” Gale said, making Peeta’s smile fall.

“We can never have enough food.” You insisted. “I’m sure Haymitch would love it.”

“Do you think they’d let me in the kitchen?” Peeta chuckled and nodded towards the kitchen.

“If I ask them to, they would. I don’t mean to brag, but I get anything I ask for around here. It’s the perks of being the face of their revolution.”

“What have you asked for so far?” Peeta wondered.

“Just you. And now I have it so I need to think of some other things to ask for. Like getting you some baking time.” You smiled sweetly at him and touched his shoulder. You wanted Peeta to have some time to bake to remind himself of who he was. Peeta put his hand over yours and smiled in appreciation.

“You know there’s no cameras around here, right?” Gale said, taking your attention away from each other.

“We know.” You laughed in annoyance.

“So what’s with the act?” Gale asked, making Peeta gulp. He looked at you curiously, also wondering if your kindness towards him was part of the act.

“There is no act. You haven’t been through what we’ve been through. We missed each other. Let us reunite in peace.” You said simply as you kept your hand on Peeta. Peeta smiled in content and rested his head on your shoulder.

“So are you guys dating now? For real?” Finnick came up for air long enough to ask. You felt Peeta tense up on your shoulder and lifted his head to look at you. He was wondering the exact same thing, but didn’t know how to voice it. Things had been different between you before you were separated and the way you were acting Joe only made Peeta further believe that your feelings had shifted into something real.

“Can everyone leave us alone? What’s with all the questions?” You laughed awkwardly and took a bite of your bread. Finnick chuckled and held up his hands in defense while Gale gave Peeta the death glare. Peeta gave Gale a simple shrug before putting his head back down on your shoulder. You heard him yawn and looked down at him.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.” He nodded with his eyes shut.

“Me too. Let’s get some sleep.”

You said goodbye to Finnick and Annie before taking Peeta’s arm to lead him out of the dinning hall. You brought him to the hallway where the bedrooms were and led him to the room you’d been staying it.

“My roommate is Prim but she has the night shift in the medical wing tonight.” You told him. You turned around and saw Peeta by your door, looking longingly at your bed. It had probably been a long time since he had somewhere soft to rest his head and a bed had never looked so inviting.

“They said they set up a room for me-“

You cut him off by rushing into his arms and holding him tight. Peeta stumbled back a little before hugging you back and resting his cheek against your head.

“Stay.” You whispered against his chest.

“Always.” Peeta said automatically. You hugged him for a few moments longer before climbing into bed. Peeta climbed in after you and lifted his arm so thta you could lay your head over his heart. Peeta wrapped an arm around you and you held his hand to he as close as possible.

“Can you believe how Gale was acting back there? He’s so different now. I feel like I don’t know him anymore.” You said to fill the silence that had settled.

“I think he’s mad that I was with you in the Games and he wasn’t.” Peeta replied.

“I don’t understand him. Why would anyone wish what we went though for themselves?”

“I don’t think he’s thinking about it like that. I think he’s just embarrassed that some other guy was kissing you on TV for everyone to see. And then winning the Games with you. And going on a victory tour with you. Twice. I mean, the whole entire world was rooting for us to be in love. He had to watch our fake engagement, wedding and pregnancy. I can’t imagine how that felt for him.”

“Why would he care? It’s not like I was his girlfriend.” You reminded Peeta.

“But he had feelings for you. Anyone can see it. That’s why he hates me.” Peeta said with a soft chuckle. You frowned in the darkness and tilted your chin to look up at Peeta.

“He has to get over that, then.” You shrugged. “It’s not my or your problem that he had feelings for me. He doesn’t get to be mean to you just because he wants my relationship with him to be like my relationship with you.”

Peeta was quiet for a while after that. The only sound in the room was coming from the sounds of your breathing.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked as you looked up at him again.

“Nothing.” He chuckled.

“Tell me.” You urged and shook him a little. Peeta let out another soft chuckle and looked down at you.

“If it were me, I would hate whatever guy was on TV kissing you too.” He admitted. A smile tugged at your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

“We’re not on TV now, are we?” You asked him. Peeta sat up as well so that you were at the same level.

“I don’t think so.” He smiled shyly as he shook his head. Peeta looked into your eyes with his big brown ones before letting his gaze drop to your lips.

“And yet, you’re the only boy I want to kiss.” You said quietly. Peeta jutted his head back a little in surprise before leaning towards you. His eyes slowly shut and yours did the same as you met in a soft kiss. The kiss slowly became heated and you were soon in his lap with his hands up your shirt.

“We can take it slow. I know you’ve been through a lot.” You whispered against his lips.

“I don’t need slow. I just need you.” Peeta shook his head before kissing you again.

“I want to be with you. For real this time. Not pretend.” You said between kisses.

“Real?” Peeta smiled hopefully as he looked into your eyes. You nodded your head and replied before pulling him into a kiss again.

“Real.”

[fict1onallyobsessed]

can you please write a vi x firelight! reader?: when caitlyn goes to trade in her gun to help an injured vi, !Firelight reader, even though advised not to, rushes down to where vi is laying injured and hallucinating, and cups her face and cooes her into a state of calm because she missed her so so much, mission to spy on her to see if she was working with silco be damned. bonus points if caitlyn comes back by the time reader is gently stitching vi's wounds after they hugged and cried as much as they could before vi cried out in pain. BONUS BONUS if reader, who already dislikes caitlyn for being a cop, takes the shimmer from her, and gently feeds it to Vi, herself, ty! ♡

Always

Vi x Firelight!Reader

She was barely conscious as it was, hand clutching her side as it bled through the cracks of her fingers. She was seeing her mother call out her name, her blue hair cascading down her shoulders as she leaned forward to grab at her. It almost felt as if she was truly dying this time, and there was nothing that could be done to fix it.

Then she saw you, a much older version of you. She tried to focus as much as she could through the tears in her eyes and the pain in her ribs, but she just simply couldn't. A part of her cursed that she would never be able to see what you'd look like much older, how she would never get to hug you again after a bad attempt at stealing things from Piltover or hear your laugh when she told you a stupid joke. She focused her head again, trying to sharpen the imagine she could see of you but you felt...too far away.

Until you started walking closer, slow steady steps as you approached her to make sure you didn't startle her. She thought you were dead after all.

Slowly, you became more visible to her.

Your hand reached for her knee and she flinched, wondering how badly she was hallucinating to be able to feel you. It wasn't even until you kneeled beside her, your body leaning over her to inspect her injuries without touching her that she truly opened her eyes.

"Hey, Violet." You whispered, your hand finally met the side of her torso that wasn't bleeding, your thumb comfortably running along her clothes to sooth her. "Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay."

You had to fight your own tears. Touching her felt surreal, like a answered dream from the Gods above. Like her, you thought she was dead after everything that happened, but nothing stopped you from secretly hoping she was okay.

She looked up at you with wide eyes, a whimper falling from her lips as she held her injured side. Even through the pain, she focused on you, how much she missed your touch, your voice, your face.

"Are you real?" She whispered, her hand reaching for you just to ground herself and to make sure she wasn't going crazy. The tightness in her throat finally let go and she sobbed before you could even answer, her hand still reaching out to feel more of you, to pull you closer.

You lifted your hands to cup her jaw, felt her melt into your touch and let her cry it out. She wasn't even worried about her side anymore. She could die now. She could die because she got to see your face. She could die because she felt your touch. She could die now, only if it were in your hands.

"Yes. I'm real, Vi." You felt your own tears drag down your face but you literally couldn't care less. All that mattered now was her. "I missed you so much."

"-missed you." She tried through her sobs. "I thought- you died..."

You shook your head, leaning forwards to kiss her forehead gently, still soothing her skin. You would have stayed like that forever, cherishing the moment but a harsh hiss came from the woman under you causing you to pull away.

"Can I see?"

She pulled up her shirt just enough to be able to see the deep wound. This would need more that just stitches, and all you had on you was a few gauzes from a fight you were in earlier. You took it out of your pocket, feeling Vi's hand grip your forearm as you did so.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

She seemed to relax but her hand remained on you just to make sure. She didn't want you going anywhere again, not away from her at least. Her side stung as you pushed the gauze into the wound, the blood immediately seeping into the material.

Apart of her still thought it was her mind playing tricks on her while she was dying from blood loss. But even so, at least she could do it in your imaginary presence rather than alone, again.

Your head snapped towards the door when it creaked open, the blue-haired girl that you'd been following per Echo's request walked in and reached behind her. A sour expression found itself on her face when she realised she just traded her gun for the little vial in her hand.

"Who are you?"

"Give me that." You reached out for the vial she was holding, knowing Vi didn't have long before she passed out from the sheer amount of blood she was losing. You saw her hesitate, eyes scanning Vi who nodded at her tiredly.

If looks could kill, Caitlyn would fall victim to yours.

Hesitantly, she handed you the vial which you promptly snatched from her, opening it and instantly the noticeable smell of shimmer filled your nostrils.

"You have to drink quite fast, okay?" You whispered, reaching to cup her jaw with one hand and the other held the vial close to her lips. She let you guide her head upwards so it was easier for her to drink, her lips connecting to the vial as she began to drink the content.

For a moment she went silent when she finished drinking, her body seemingly not reacting to the drug. Then, a bloodcurdling scream sounded through the hollow and decaying building, making her body jerk forwards as chills ran down her spine.

You caught her just in time, letting her lean her body weight on you for a moment before she leaned back and opened her eyes. Another, much smaller, chill ran through her body, a small whimper leaving her lips as she tried to get used to the feeling of the drug travelling through her to get to her injury.

"Shh, I got you." You whispered to her, stroking her face with your thumbs. You could see the colour come back to her face and you sighed thankfully. It only took her a few second to get back on her feet, Caitlyn awkwardly standing there a little unsure on what to do or say.

"We're going to have to be more careful now. Silco will be watching." She said, walking backwards and into the very unstable pillar holding up the entire build. The cracking was expected but the rustling that came from outside was not.

Carefully, Caitlyn opened the door to see Silco already there. Vi turned to you, smirked and nodded.

"You ready?"

"Always."

[imfinereallyy]

“Good morning, Robs.” Steve nods to Robin’s sprawled figure on their couch.

“Good morning, dingus.” Robin looks up at Steve with a sleepy smile into her morning coffee.

“How was your date last night?” Steve makes a cup of coffee and walks over to the couch. He lifts Robin's legs and lays them across his lap as he settles into the worn-down furniture.

“Oh! It was so good.” Robin perks up. “God, it’s so nice to actually know other gay people in the city and have safe places to go, unlike Hawkins. Violet was so sweet, and she took us to the little lesbian bar on 4th, and we just talked and drank for hours! I felt bad at first about missing movie night with you and Eddie, but I’m sorry, babes, but it was worth it!”

Steve smiles at his platonic soulmate with as much love as he can muster. He’s so happy for her, finding herself in college, especially after the disaster that was Vickie and the post-apocalypse. Besides, he really couldn’t be mad she missed out. “I’m glad you had a good night, Birdie.”

“Steve! You have no idea! She wore this cute skirt with knee-highs, and oh god, I could see her thighs! You know how I feel about thighs.” Robin gave him a pointed look, and Steve couldn’t help but hum in agreement. Thighs were nice. “And she gave me the softest kiss while we were still inside the bar like she wasn’t embarrassed by all my rambling and thinking out loud. Which she said she thought was cute, after I said that out loud. And Steve, I need to tell you about the less soft kisses we had later, but first, I have a question.”

Steve laughed lightly at Robin's antics. She had no idea the power she had. It was hard not to fall in love with her, platonically or romantically. “Sure, Robs. Shoot.” Steve took a sip of his coffee, not thinking much of it.

Robin ever so calmly stated, “Why do you have a hickey on your neck?”

Steve choked on his coffee. He had to lean forward to stop himself from going blue. Robin pushed herself up and pats his back. Steve barely managed out a spluttered out, “What?”

Robin put down her coffee and gave him a kind but pointed look. “The giant ass hickey on your neck. When did you get that.”

“I do not have a hickey on my neck!” Steve’s voice went a pitch higher than normal, not particularly helping his case.

Robin gave him a ‘seriously’ face before she reached over and dug her fingers into the bruise on his neck.

“Owww!” Steve slapped her hand away.

“Want to explain what that is then, Steven.”

Steve scrunched his face up, “Ew, don’t call me Steven.”

“Stop avoiding the question. Why do you have a hickey? As far as I’m concerned, I’m the one who went on a date last night. You only had Eddie over for movie—“ A look of realization crossed Robin’s face before it broke out into pure glee. “No! You didn’t!”

Steve spluttered again, despite the coffee being nowhere near him. “I didn’t do anything!” He continued to deny it.

“Oh you did! You finally did! You made out with Eddie!”

Steve knew it was useless to fight her on it, but he couldn’t help it. He was stubborn. “Ssshh, nothing happened. It’s just a bruise. Stop making this bigger than it is.”

Robin cackled, “Oh Steve, I know I should be mad you’re trying to lie right now. But I can’t be; I’m just too happy. First Violet, and now this? This is the happiest, gayest day of my life!”

Steve put his head in his hands, no longer denying.

“Besides, why are you shushing me? It’s not like there is anyone else here…” Robin trailed off, and Steve could tell the moment she put it all together. If he thought she looked happy before, now she looked straight up devious. “…Oh my god! Steve! Is he in your bed? Is he naked?” Robin was shaking Steve with excitement. At this rate, he would get a concussion from his brain being smacked around his skull.

“…no.” Steve said shyly as images of the night before came to his mind.

The boring movie. Eddie’s head thrown back at Steve’s jokes. The leaning together. Eddie’s grip on Steve’s thigh. The nose brush. The crash of lips. The tearing off of clothes. The stumbling to the bedroom. The moans.

Now is not the time to get a boner. Not while his best friend is still shaking the shit out of him.

“No? Really, so if I go into your room right now, I won’t find Eddie in it?” Robin stared at him. They both got completely still. It was as if that weird telepathy thing the kids always think they have, was actually true. Because Steve can sense it. Can sense that Robin was going to make a break for the door.

She took off in a dash, but Steve was quicker. He tackles her to the ground with a loud ‘oof’. “Get off me, dingus! I need to know!”

Steve tried to pin her to the ground, but she was freakishly strong and yanked him by the hair, “No, Robin, let me have some privacy!”

They tumble around for a few minutes, yelling and scrapping at each other. Neither of them truly got the upper hand. Then suddenly, a door opens. Both Robin and Steve’s heads snap up in the direction of footsteps approaching them.

Then, in front of them, is Eddie in only boxers covered from head to thigh in hickies. “I always forget you two are morning people.” Eddie rubbed the early hours out of his eyes, leaned down to place a kiss on top of Steve’s head, and made his way into the kitchen.

A blush makes its way to Steve’s face but he knows he’s sporting a goofy smile.

“Wow, Dingus. You really marked your territory.” Robin snorts below him. Then Robin leaned over to the side to peek at Eddie’s back. “Is that hickey in the shape of a heart?!”

Steve leapt off of Robin and into the safety of the kitchen, behind the said bruised back.

“So much for soft mornings with you and Robs.” Eddie giggles into his coffee.

Steve just huffed a laugh into the crease between Eddie’s spine and shoulder.

***

happy pride! wanted something soft to get me back in the groove of writing and the start to my pride month pieces.

[covenists]

✦ BAD IDEA, RIGHT?, O. PIASTRI

what if the break up wasn't really called a break up since the night he called it end?

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦˚‎

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landonorris i thought you were at oscar's place?

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yourusername red galore 🟥

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username OH MAMIIII

username could be chase atlantic's actress for their new song👀

scuderiaferrari Roses are red, violets are blue, you are an icon.

⤷ username not too bad, ferrari, but you can definitely improve that poetic skill (and your car)

charles_leclerc not usually in red for the whole week but i'll take it.

mclaren NO Y/N THIS ISN'T YOU

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username ferrari and mclaren fighting over her is not on my bingo

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⤷ landonorris yeah when?

oscarpiastri added a photo to their story!

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yourusername added photo to their story!

OSCARPIASTRI'S DIRECT MESSAGE

landonorris replied to your story!

landonorris: dinner date huh? 😏😏😏😏

oscarpiastri: you know it

maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

maxverstappen1: are you wine drunk or something?

maxverstappen1: are you trying to poison her with all that wine?

oscarpiastri: WHAT? NO!

yourusername

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yourusername happy early valentine🌹

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username WHOSE HANDS IS THAT Y/N

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yourusername bad idea right is now available on every streaming services! 💜💜

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[freelancearsonist]

in shades of gray and candlelight

➔ Marcus Pike x fem!Reader - 7.2k

➔ Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

➔ Rated MA for artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily [please let me know if i missed any at all :)]

➔ this is my (first 😈) submission to @beskarandblasters Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! i really did mean for this to be a drabble especially since i didn't know anything about marcus before receiving this prompt but he has my whole fucking heart and mind now 😩 thank you so much for the challenge lovely kel, and special thank u to my baby @fhatbhabie for betaing and screaming with me ily <3 (dividers by the amazing and talented @saradika-graphics)

You meet Marcus Pike on a Friday night and it’s obvious from the start that he’s going to change your life forever.

He looks a little disheveled when he enters the gallery–brown hair ruffled and standing up in places, tie loose, top shirt button undone. There’s an alluring five o’clock shadow burgeoning across his jaw and cheeks. He looks like he’s had a long day, and it’s only going to get longer. It’s all part of the plan, of course. He’s supposed to look like a standard blue collar worker, and he pulls it off with ease.

It’s the exhibition’s opening night, so it’s a little more packed than the gallery normally would be. It works in his favor–he’s able to collect a plastic cup of champagne from the refreshment table and blend seamlessly into the crowd.

His eyes are diligent as they scan the faces that come and go. He tries to commit them all to memory–the tall woman with the slight limp, the short guy wearing the Hawaiian patterned shirt. There’s dozens of people that pass by, and so many of them are forgettable. It’s exhibitions like these that make him dread undercover work.

The art on the walls isn’t exceptional, but it’s not bad. Nothing that seems worth stealing, that’s for sure. But his source is good, and his source said that this place was getting hit tonight. So he keeps his watchful eyes vigilant and pretends to sip the champagne in his hand.

Until he finds your exhibit.

There’s a depth to your art that he’s come to be familiar with–something he sees often in work of high value. Anyone can make abstract art, it’s as simple as flicking paint at a canvas. But few can charge it as emotionally as you have. To convey feeling and passion and heart through abstraction is a separate art form all its own, and it’s one you’ve mastered.

He’s seen original Rothko’s, Van Gogh’s, Kandinsky’s; he’s held their frames in his own two hands. But nothing’s ever made his breath hitch in his throat quite the way yours does.

He stands in front of a canvas simply labeled “Waves In Motion” with your name printed neatly underneath, brow creased with a concentration that seems a little unnecessary given the subject matter of the painting. It’s all shades of blue and violet, swirling together in a way that seems partly sensuous, partly violent. It makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and he takes a step closer. That’s when he notices it: a single dot of red paint right in the middle, a focal point of all the swirling cobalts. So small that he wouldn’t notice it if he wasn’t close; so small it could almost be interpreted as a mistake.

But he knows without having to ask that it’s not an answer. He wonders who that dot represents: you, the artist? Most likely.

Without meaning to, he smiles. It’s been a long time, years really, since a piece of art provoked such thought. 

“Hi.”

The voice Marcus hears next to him is soft, dulcet. He doesn’t turn to the noise quickly–from the tone in that word alone he senses a hesitance, as if you’re a fawn that’s lost its mother and you’re bound to run if he makes any sudden movements.

And, truth be told, part of him thinks he might not be able to look away even if he tried right now. There’s something so beautiful about this painting–and underneath, something so ominous. There’s an air about the work that says he might unlock the secrets of the universe if he just keeps looking.

“Hi there.” He keeps his eyes trained on “Waves In Motion” as he responds–playing the game. He’s here to brush shoulders, after all; to be the right amount of forgettable yet memorable. 

“This is my best, I think,” you murmur while taking a step closer. “It took the least time of all of them, surprisingly. But… I think when you know exactly what you’re trying to convey, it just comes to you easily.”

“These are yours?” There’s admiration in his eyes and an air of something akin to disbelief in his voice as he takes in the group of canvases proudly displayed on the plain white gallery walls.

And then he turns and lets himself take you in. More specifically the curling strand of hair that falls out of your updo to frame your face, the deeply plunging neckline of your dress, the way your calf muscles work even standing still in your high-heeled shoes. You’re a work of art in your own right; the most beautiful piece he’s seen in a long time.

“Yeah.” You duck your head–shyly, modestly–and he’s hooked. There’s one thing in this building that deserves awe and reverence more than your painting, and it’s you. “You know, you’re only the second person who’s come over tonight.”

“No way. They’re all just working their way back here,” he whispers before he can calculate a more articulate response.

But it works in his favor–your giggle is gorgeous, if a sound can be described that way. Sweet and syrupy, it seeps over him as if he’s standing under a cracked honeycomb. He hasn’t actually taken a drink of his champagne, and yet he can feel his nervous system tingling. You’re just that intoxicating.

“The gallery closes in half an hour,” you tell him–a little wistfully at that. “In my defense, I don’t have any family or friends in the area. I wasn’t really expecting anyone to show, not with so many other talented artists here.”

It seems so indignantly unfair to Marcus. That you’re shoved into the far back corner of the gallery, that people haven’t come in droves from all over the country to see your work.

“Where are you from?” He asks as his mind finally starts to clear from the haze it’s been in the past few minutes. With only half an hour left on the job, he allows himself a small sip of the drink that he’s been cradling all night.

“New York. This is actually only my second exhibition,” you explain, and you almost sound shy about it; as if you need to be embarrassed about being young and fresh-faced in the art industry, as if you aren’t the most talented artist Marcus has ever met in person.

He hums in response, eyes unconsciously dragging over you once more. “You came a long way for this.”

You smile so prettily up at him, and in that moment he sees something in your eyes. He can’t describe it–maybe it’s something akin to longing. Something incomplete, unexplored. It’s familiar; it’s the red dot from your painting. Solitary amidst the swirling, lost yet not hopeless.

And just like your painting, he finds himself wanting to get lost in your eyes.

“Well, it’s not every day a gallery wants to host you,” you say after another sip of your drink. “Plus, I’ve never been to Texas before, and I needed a change of scenery.”

There’s something so charming, so boyishly intoxicating about the smile he graces you with. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s hotter than I’m used to,” you say with a chuckle that he echoes. “And I haven’t been able to do any exploring yet, my flight only got in a couple hours before I had to be here.”

“That’s a shame,” he hums in a tone that reveals deeper meaning. “How long are you here for? Do you have any plans?”

“A week,” you murmur. Subconsciously he leans in closer, on the edge of his proverbial seat. To seal the deal, you lean in too. “And not a damned one.”

There’s no air between you and Marcus. You exist in a vacuum for this moment–unable to breathe, choking on anticipation. He’s so close, yet way too far away. You want to be consumed by him–for him to be swirling blue; and you, a single speck of red in his midst.

The moment shatters with an audible sound–a deep, penetrating voice. “He’s still not here, huh? I don’t think your boyfriend’s coming. If he even exists.” There’s something strange in the raspy voice that drawls these words–something strange enough to immediately put Marcus on the alert.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion into your vacuum, but you recover quickly. You have to, because this intrusive stranger is standing way too close and has way too much alcohol on his breath.

And then something strange happens–you worm your arm around Marcus’s waist and press yourself firmly into his side.

“Actually, he’s right here,” you say. There’s a quality to your voice that wasn’t there before when you were just talking to Marcus–it’s firm, clipped, bordering on hostile. “He just got held up at work. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Thankfully, Marcus has always been one to think quickly on his feet. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, unconsciously moving an inch or two in front of you. Protecting without really meaning to. “I’m sorry, honey. I got here as soon as I could.”

The man–burly and balding, probably a good twenty years older than you–scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“Is there a problem here?” Marcus draws up to his full height–towering a good few inches over this strange intruder.

Whoever this guy is, he’s not completely stupid. He senses this isn’t going to be a fight he’ll win, so he backs off. “Not at all, man. Just didn’t want little miss standing here all alone the whole night.”

“Thanks,” you say with bitter reprehension. You wind even closer to Marcus–closer than this sudden farce demands. “But we’re fine now.”

He nods once–curt and unhappy, but seemingly satisfied that he’s not going to get what he wants. “Have a good night, ma’am. Sir.”

Marcus takes a mental inventory of the man as he storms off, committing his physical description and his outfit to memory. He doesn’t look like a casual art viewer, and he doesn’t look like a collector. He’s exactly the type that Marcus came here to look out for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you step out of Marcus’s personal space. “He’s been hovering all night, asking me who I’m going home with and shit.”

“That’s the other guy who came over to talk to you?” It brings a deep frown to his face, a crease forming between his brows. It certainly raises a red flag–if the guy has any eye for value, of course he would be drawn to your exhibit. And if he has an eye for value, he could be the guy Marcus came for.

“Yeah.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly and avert your gaze, as if you should be embarrassed for drawing that guy’s attention. “It’s not been the greatest night.”

Marcus hates that. He hates that you came all this way to be let down, that this is only your second exhibition and you’ve had such a bad experience with it. More than anything, he hates that he can still see the spark in your eyes when you look up at him, and he can tell that it’s dimmed.

“Gimme just a minute.”

He doesn’t mean to be so abrupt, but he wants to make it quick. He hustles to the single-stall men’s room and tugs the radio out of his inside jacket pocket to call in the man’s description. Then he turns it off, tucks it back into its concealed pocket, and goes over to the sink.

He thought he looked perfect for the part he had to play when he left his house to come here. Now, he’s too disheveled. He wets his fingertips and tries to tame the mess on top of his head; he re-buttons his shirt and tightens his tie. He looks flustered, and he’s not even surprised by it. You’ve got his heart pounding with anticipation in a way he doesn’t think it ever has before.

Butterflies fluttering on in his stomach, he emerges from the restroom to resume his position by your side.

Except you’re not by your exhibit anymore, and the crowd has thinned considerably. He checks his watch and realizes there’s only five minutes before the gallery closes for the night. Maybe you’ve decided to cut your losses and leave early.

He hates the way his gut twists with disappointment, but then he reminds himself that he didn’t come here for you. He’s working, and he needs to stay vigilant. No distractions, no complications.

“You’re still here.”

There’s a wave of relief that washes over him as he hears your voice, and this time he’s not too timid to turn towards you. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Thought I might’ve scared you off.” There’s a fresh cup of champagne in your hand and a hint of vulnerability in your voice, and it makes his heart pick up pace just the slightest bit. You duck your head–that shy, modest gesture again. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just done that without permission.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells you, more earnestly than he’s ever said anything in his life. “I didn’t mind at all, I swear. Just had to hit the head.”

You look so deeply into his eyes he almost wonders if you aren’t looking through him. But whatever you find, you must like it.

He clears his throat and tries to not show how thoroughly unraveled he is by your gaze. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus.” You pause for a moment, and he can tell that there’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue–so he remains silent in hopes of drawing it out.

“Do you have someone to go home to?”

There it is–the invitation he was both dreading and hoping for. He should really lie. He’s here on a job, after all–he’s supposed to avoid complications, and some instinct tells him you’re going to be much more than a simple distraction. But he’s told you the truth so far, and he doesn’t want to stop now.

“No. No, I don’t.”

This is everything that Marcus has never even considered doing. It’s late, it’s dark, it’s a little chilly for spring in Austin. The alley is grimey and drafty–your hair blows in the breeze even as you kneel down before him.

All he can do is stand there, dumbstruck with his back up against the rough brick wall, and stare down at you. 

He’s still breathless from the way you’ve been kissing him–all heat and passion, fire and brimstone. Your hands ran through his hair and undid the effort he put in while in the bathroom, and his hands clutched your waist in a futile attempt to ground himself. Your lips are so soft; he thinks he could kiss you forever and never get tired of it. He was certainly planning on finding out, until you dropped to your knees in front of him.

“You… you don’t have to–”

But the way you look up at him through your lashes makes his throat close up around whatever protest he was going to try.

“I want to,” you assure him–more of a purr than a spoken statement.

And this really isn’t the place. He shouldn’t let you do this here. But he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t make him harden in his boring gray work slacks.

Marcus has never been about excitement. He’s always strayed to the comfortable and familiar–he falls into the sweet, caring companion role with grace and ease.

And tonight doesn’t have to be that different. If you’re going to suck his dick in a dark, dingey alley, he’ll let you. But he’s going to lay his jacket down on the ground so you don’t scrape up your knees first.

You keen at the thoughtful gesture and grace him with a grateful smile as your adept fingers work his belt open. He’s straining against the seam of his pants now, begging for the attention that your gaze promises him.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think you’re every bit as eager to get his trousers and boxers down as he is.

And Lord help him, he delights in the gasp you emit when his cock springs free from its confines.

“Fuck, Marcus.” Your lips actually part as you freeze for a moment, just taking him in. He’s thick, maybe an inch longer than average, swollen head peeking through uncut skin as if begging for your waiting mouth. He curves to the left just a little bit, and you can almost see his pulse thrumming through the prominent vein that runs along the length of him.

“S’not that impressive,” he mumbles, and you know that he knows that he’s full of shit.

Your fingers almost don’t wrap all the way around him, and suddenly you’re second-guessing this back alley stint, too. You want him in bed. You want him deep inside you, kissing your face as he fucks you, hands all over your body, thrusts hard yet slow. You want it languid, you want it desperate, you want it any way he’ll give it to you. You don’t want to blow him and say goodbye.

He calculates your hesitation as something other than pure unadulterated lust, and he lifts your chin gently with his index and middle fingers.

“Hey, we don’t have to–”

Again, you cut him off–this time, by dragging your tongue from the seam of his balls all the way along his length to swirl messily around his tip. You taste every heady inch of him and then moan at the salty foreshadowing on your tongue when you catch a droplet of precum leaking from his slit.

Your hand springs into action with a long, slow stroke along his cock, and then you sink your mouth around him and he moans. Without caution or pretense, like you’re not in an alley that anyone could walk down at any moment. It’s a little more high-pitched than he’d like for it to be and his head thumps back against the brick wall hard enough to hurt, and even still he’s never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure before in his life.

Your nose meets the neat patch of hair at his base and your free hand comes up to his hip, effectively pinning him against the wall when he tries to buck greedily even further into your mouth.

No one’s ever taken him so relentlessly before. You’re insistent, pressing onward even as you gag on his length, and it makes his balls tighten in a way he’s never felt before. It’s like you’re hungry for him; like you’re doing this more for your own pleasure than for his.

Marcus Pike has been a giver his whole life. Tonight, with you, he finally decides to take.

He’d be embarrassed about how fast he comes if you weren’t so eager for it. You moan around him and push yourself as deep as you can, throat working around him desperately not to choke on the size of him. Before he can warn you he’s spilling into your mouth, maybe more than he’s ever come before, thick and salty but undeniably sweet too. You allow yourself a moment to savor him as he pulses in your mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head of him in a way that makes him shiver and whine.

He’s panting, nearly light-headed, when you finally pull off of him and press one last gentle kiss over his slit.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, because there’s nothing else to say.

You giggle, and he realizes with a strange wistfulness that he would do anything to keep this girl–a girl he’s just met, a girl who’s leaving to go back to her home on the other side of the country in just a week–smiling and laughing the way she is now.

“My hotel is only a couple blocks away,” you tell him as he helps you to your feet. “Would you like a nightcap?”

You pick up his jacket and dust the grime off it–it makes him chuckle. Everything about this encounter has flown in the face of what he’s used to. 

He’s never felt so alive.

“I would love a nightcap.”

Your senses wake up slower than normal.

First it’s your eyes–they tune in on the bright mid-sunrise light streaming through the open balcony blinds on the far wall. It falls in slivers and shards over the rumpled white hotel-standard bedding–the second thing your senses tune into. Everything is so soft and light, but it’s a little cold too. Especially the other side of the bed; there’s no heat remaining there at all.

You push yourself up with a grunt and let the sheets fall away from your bare torso, tired eyes scanning around the room. You notice clothes scattered all over the floor while your ears wake up enough to hear water running in the bathroom, and you can’t help the involuntary smile that spreads over your face. He’s still here.

Marcus lets the too-hot water wash over him in scalding waves, muscles still a little sore after a long night tangled together with you.

He checked his phone first thing this morning, and the gallery was quiet all night. They think the suspect he radioed in was the guy they were looking for, but they weren’t able to apprehend him. The running theory is that he might’ve recognized Marcus and decided low-value art wasn’t worth the hassle, but one guess is as good as the next until they can bait and catch the guy.

It’s the weekend now, and Marcus is thanking his lucky stars. Not only does he have a successful mission to celebrate, but he has the most beautiful woman in the world to celebrate it with.

He emerges after a few minutes, wet hair messily scattered over his forehead and wide hips straining against a low-slung hotel towel. He’s a languid Saturday morning wet dream on two legs.

“G’morning,” he hums with a smile–he doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes dip down to hungrily take in your naked torso.

“Good morning, Marcus.”

He stalks towards you slowly, eyes darkening with each advancing step. It doesn’t take more than a second to realize he didn’t get his fill of your body last night, but you’re certainly not complaining.

He’s already starting to harden as he drops his towel and crawls over the foot of the bed, surging forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. If last night was desperation and passion, this morning is syrupy and sweet. He explores your mouth slowly, tongue sweeping between your lips and tracing every curve and ridge he can–almost like he’s trying to commit you to memory.

There are universes in the depths of his dark eyes. He may not say exactly what he’s thinking, but you can see it playing out in those baby browns of his. There’s something simmering underneath the surface–something more than just lust or desire.

Something dangerous.

You tug him closer and cup his face in your hands, enjoying the gentle scratch of morning stubble underneath your palms. He surges forward and presses you into the pillows as he settles himself comfortably between your spread legs. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs through kisses scattered along the length of your jaw.

You know you probably look like you got run over by a bus–you toss and turn in your sleep, and it always leaves your hair a matted mess. And that’s not even mentioning the slight tremble in your thighs, left over from Marcus’s enthusiastic attention last night. But there’s so much sincerity in his voice; you don’t think he would waste his breath saying it if he didn’t mean it, and that fact alone makes your heart pound with desire.

There’s a syrupy slowness to the way he moves down your body, lips leaving behind heavy wet kisses as he works down your chest and over your stomach.

And it’s almost like he senses the protest working its way up your throat when you feel his hot breath on your thighs, because he looks up at you and there’s sternness in his gaze. You got your fill last night, and now it’s his turn.

“May I?” He looks up at you from the apex of your thighs with big, round puppy eyes that are impossible to refuse–so you nod eagerly and don’t even try.

If you were eager to have him in your mouth last night, he’s desperate.

There’s no hesitation, no build-up. It’s almost aggressive, the way he buries his face in your heat. He laps like a dog at a bowl, hips canting into the mattress involuntarily as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growls into your sopping cunt. “You taste incredible.”

You keen at the praise and card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the damp, spiky strands when his tongue laves heavily over your sensitive clit.

Marcus’s greedy hands grip underneath your thighs and push them as far as you can comfortably spread them. You’re still so sensitive after at least three orgasms last night–you lost count after a point–and it serves to wind your nerves tighter than they’ve ever been wound before.

One hand slides to the junction of your thigh and his thumb comes to take over the pressure on your clit as his tongue plunges between your soaked folds. It’s even more overwhelming like this, and there’s not a thing in the world that you want to do more than let him have his fun. Especially when that hand and his tongue switch spots–his lips seal and suck around your clit while he presses two achingly thick fingers into your waiting entrance.

It actually makes your muscles tighten and your back rise off the bed as he curls his fingers just right to find that spot that makes you fall apart for him. 

He can tell you’re getting close–he’s already so intune with the way your muscles twitch, the change of pitch in your moans. You whine and cry for him the tighter he winds the rubberband, and he’s eager to make it snap.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says over the overwhelming flutter of his fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Let me have it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut so tightly as pleasure wracks through your body that you can see constellations. Large hands come to pin your thighs open as his tongue keeps working, lapping and gliding against your cunt with ease as a wave of arousal gushes from your entrance.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, and he’s just getting started.

He trails open-mouthed kisses up your body as you catch your breath–his slick-soaked lips coat your skin with your own arousal as he works his way up to allow you a taste of yourself.

The first wet lick of his tongue into your mouth makes you moan. It’s not the first time you’ve tasted your own slick–you’ve had a moment or two of curiosity–but it’s never been quite as enjoyable as it is on his tongue. It pairs so perfectly with the minty tang of toothpaste left on his breath and makes you hungry for more.

He moves fluidly under your direction as you push him onto his back and roll to straddle his lap all in one graceful movement. It’s perfect like this–he doesn’t have to support his weight so he can run his big meaty hands all over every inch of you, and you can kiss him as deep as you want while you grind down on his aching length.

“Shit, baby,” he pants against your lips. Those aforementioned beefy palms grasp hard at your asscheeks to guide your hips, pulling you into a slow, long grind that bumps the head of his cock against your clit deliciously.

Your pulse thrums with desperation until you’re seeing white–no more teasing, no more preamble. You take his girth in your hand and give him a firm stroke; if you had a little more presence of mind, you might be embarrassed at how wet his dick is simply from grinding against you for a few seconds.

“Go ahead, baby, take it when you’re ready.”

He gasps at the first press of his cockhead against your entrance, head flopping back against the pillows as his hands squeeze your asscheeks with bruising force.

“Shit, you’re tight,” he murmurs, throat working around a thick gulp. “You can take it baby, I know you can. Did so good for me last night.”

You think you would honestly do anything he asks of you so long as he just keeps talking like this.

It takes a moment for you to work your way down his length–he’s so mouth-wateringly thick and the curve of his cock hits the most delicious spot inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Atta girl,” he praises breathlessly as your hips settle flush against his. “Just sit there for a minute. So pretty on my dick.”

God, he makes your entire body flush with heat. He turns your blood to molten lava with his words, lighting every inch of skin on fire. You’ve never felt a sensation like this–so overwhelming yet so intoxicating.

You start with slow movements as his hands trace up and down your sides sweetly–it’s more like you’re grinding on him than anything else. His thumbs rub abstract little patterns into your skin as his hands work up to your tits; when he finally takes them in the palms of his hands and squeezes all pretense of soft, sweet morning-after sex flies out the window.

You drop down hard on his cock and it nearly punches the wind out of him. 

“Yes!” He growls darkly. His eyes flash with something dangerous–it’s the only warning you get before his hand slaps the meat of your ass and grabs a greedy handful. “Just like that baby, use my fuckin’ dick.”

And maybe, if he was someone else, you wouldn’t be nearly as eager to follow instructions. But with Marcus, you’re nothing if not obedient.

Last night was exploration and discovery–hours into the early morning spent learning each other’s bodies, finding what makes the other squirm and whine and beg. This morning is in perfect juxtaposition to that sweet, soft, probing sex–you know what drives each other crazy now, and you each use it to your advantage. Aggressively.

He surges up to suck a pert nipple into his mouth as you set a hard pace on him, long fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He lands another sharp smack to your ass when your thighs start to shake–a reward for using his cock exactly how he asked.

”M-Marcus—”

”I know, sweetheart,” he purrs through a guttural moan. He cants his hips up to meet your thrusts at just the right moment—he hits something so devastatingly pleasurable that your vision prickles white around the edges. “I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? It’s okay, you can let go. Come for me.”

There’s a condescending note to his voice that only makes you squeeze harder around his cock, and within seconds you’re hurtling uncontrollably into ecstasy.

He fucks you through the telltale fluttering of your cunt even when your hips stop moving; strong hands hold you in place and work you through the ebbing waves of pleasure that wrack through your entire body.

”M’so close, honey,” he grunts with a particularly sharp thrust upward. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw in his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Where do you want me?”

”I-inside,” you gasp. “Come inside me, Marcus.”

He fills you as soon as he has your instruction—hard thrusts punctuated by breathy moans as he pumps you full of his release.

There’s a long, silent moment where Marcus pulls your bare chest tightly against his own and you pant into the crook of his neck while trying desperately to even-out your breathing. His fingertips dance across your skin-feather-light, soothing.

The sun is higher in the sky now and meets your eyes with blinding rays through the balcony shutters when they finally open again.

”That was amazing, honey,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. He’s caught his own breath now, but he doesn’t make any attempt to let you go. “How’re you so perfect?”

”M’not perfect,” you mumble into his shoulder; but even to your own ears, it sounds half-hearted. The truth is, he’s so earnestly honest that you believe him.

He hums his dissent with a kiss pressed to your hairline. ”You are to me.”

And you so desperately want to believe him that you don’t even try to argue.

You bask in this warm, lovely afterglow for a few moments longer before Marcus gently taps your hip. ”Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll buy you breakfast.”

You pull off of his softened cock with a whine and try not to get worked up all over again at the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs. ”Th-there’s a free continental breakfast downstairs.”

”Oh, then I’ll definitely pick up the tab,” he jokes with a smirk—all you want to do is kiss his goofy, stupidly handsome face.

He pulls you into the bathroom and starts the water running to fill the tub—he’s never really been a bath guy, but your legs are a little too shaky to endure a shower. He’s so attentive—from running a damp cloth between your legs to helping lower you into the water. He doesn’t complain in the slightest when you catch his hand and ask him to join you; he just shuffles you forward and slides in behind you like it’s a casual act that he performs with every hookup.

It’s intimate. That’s really the only way to describe it. You sit between his spread legs, back to his chest, head rested back against his shoulder while his fingers ghost idle paths over your skin. You don’t talk; you don’t really need to. Somehow, you fit together like souls who have known each other for years. Like all you’ve been missing is each other.

You drift off in his arms as he traces soap over all the curves and ridge of your body, the steady beat of his heart thumping in your ear.

It breaks his heart a little bit to wake you—the fact that you’re so comfortable with him, that you trust him with such vulnerability, makes his head spin a little bit. But the water’s turning cold, and the last thing he wants is for you to come down sick or something.

He rouses you with gentle, feathery kisses scattered over your rosy-scented shoulders and neck.

”Mmm… what time is it?” You grumble, pressing your sleep-addled face further into the crook of his neck.

”Just after noon,” he whispers into your hair after glancing up at the clock on the wall.

He can feel the way your mouth shifts into a pout. “Shit. We missed breakfast.”

The adorable downward tilt of your frown as you lift your dad to look at him makes his heart flutter. “Let’s go out, then. The first farmer’s market of the season is going on downtown. I’m sure we can find something good for brunch.”

”Kinda sounds like you’re asking me on a date,” you hum with a slight smirk dancing at your lips.

”Maybe I am.” His tone is light, his meaning clear—he knows this goes beyond a one-night stand, and there’s no harm done if you’re not wanting to cross this boundary. He’d understand not wanting to get too serious about someone who lives thousands of miles away from your home, of course. He’d never blame you.

You give him your best appraising look, staring deep into those constellation-filled brown eyes. ”You’re not sick of me yet?”

”I have a feeling I couldn’t get sick of you if I tried.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone, in his eyes. He genuinely wants to spend time with you, even if there’s nowhere for this to really go.

You hum thoughtfully. “I do love farmer’s markets.”

You’re with Marcus more often than not over the course of the next week.

He takes you sightseeing to some of his favorite spots around Austin, brings you to his favorite restaurants, shows you his favorite movies. But he multitasks—while teaching you about himself, he learns as much as he can about you and picks activities he knows you’ll love, too. 

He’s a pragmatist; he knows your time together is short, and he wants to make himself unforgettable. If he never sees you again, he wants you to think about him every once in a while and look back on this time fondly.

You spend your days while Marcus is at work painting or drawing or lingering around the gallery, and you fall asleep in his arms every night. With shades of gray moonlight and candlelight cast over your hotel room, it almost feels like this could go on forever.

He tells you to wear something nice before he picks you up on the last night–he wants to celebrate in style, which starts with reservations at an up-scale restaurant. 

He’s so achingly handsome. He’s in a matching gray suit over a white button-up, top two buttons undone and no tie to be seen. His face bears the slightest five o’clock shadow and your eyes gravitate to the curve of his lips–the instant smile that takes over his face when those gorgeous brown eyes of his land on you.

If you never see him again, this is exactly how you want to remember him.

“Wow,” he whispers reverently. “You look amazing.”

It’s not the most impressive dress you own, but he looks at you like you’re wearing something worth millions–like you’re worth millions.

You lean up and kiss him, and everything feels right. His hands rest on your waist and it’s so easy to pretend that you won’t be on the other side of the country twenty-four hours from now.

The restaurant is beautiful. Dimly lit and romantic, tables spaced enough to give you some privacy. He takes your hand on top of the table and holds it the entire meal. The conversation is light and airy–you’re both stubbornly dancing around what really needs to be said.

Dessert is cleared and the wine bottle is empty by the time Marcus finally works up the courage to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“I don’t want you to go.”

You knew this would be coming, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You avert your gaze, instead focusing on his large hand wrapped around yours and the windshield wiper motion of his thumb tracing back and forth over your palm. No one’s touch has ever sent such electric tingles through your nervous system the way his does.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all.

“Look, I…” He takes a deep breath and straightens his spine a little bit, hand leaving yours to gently cup your chin. He forces you to look him in the eyes as he breaks your heart. “I think this could really be something, if we gave it a shot.”

You haven’t lied to him yet, and you don’t plan to start now. “I… I think it could, too. If I didn’t have to go back.”

“Don’t go back then.” There’s a firmness to his voice, but it couldn’t be any more obvious that he’s begging if he actually got down on his knees. “Stay here with me. We’ll figure this out. Just… don’t go.”

And here–with his earnest eyes on yours and his gentle, loving touch on your skin–it’s easy to pretend that it’s that simple.

He takes you back to your hotel room and sheds you easily out of your dress. As cliche as it sounds, it’s not just sex this time. Things that it’s too early to say are buried deep within every kiss, every thrust. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and looks deeply into your eyes while he fills you and you’ve never felt so overwhelmingly connected.

The thud of his heartbeat is insistent in your ear as you come down from your high–so calming, so heartbreaking. You lay on his chest while his breathing evens out and soak up these last few moments of bliss. And then, once you’re sure he’s sound asleep, you carefully worm out of his grip. There’s one more thing you have to do before you go back to New York.

Loud, insistent ringing pulls Marcus from the depths of sleep. He tries to ignore it and go back to sleep, but now that his senses are alert, the sound in combination with bright Saturday morning sunlight won’t allow him the luxury. He presses his face deeper into the pillow that he’s somehow wound himself around in his sleep, but that damned ringing won’t stop.

He sits up slowly and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes–and that’s when he notices the empty sheets next to him. Your side of the bed is long cold, and he knows. Before he even sees the note on the dresser and your room key next to it, he knows you’re gone.

He finds his trousers discarded halfway between the bed and the door and pulls his blaring phone out of the pocket.

“The gallery got hit sometime early this morning. They took everything. Every goddamn piece. You need to get here now.”

His body moves on autopilot as he pulls yesterday’s clothes back on, fingers numb to all sensation as they work to button his shirt. This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.

He notices the note on the dresser as he’s threading his belt through the loops of his trousers, and his gut twists with a sickening sense of foreboding.

I really did fall for you, Marcus. But nothing good starts in a getaway car.

He’s not sure if you knew who he was the whole time and this whole thing was calculated, or if you just got lucky. He doesn’t want to believe you’re that cunning and cruel. He wants to believe that this is just a misunderstanding, that you’re out for ice or something and you’ll walk back through the door at any moment.

But you don’t.

The note is enough of a confession for him. He’ll have the power of the FBI on his side to find you–and he will find you. What he’ll do when he does, he’s not sure. He guesses he’ll know when he sees you.

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[queen-haq]

Fic: Never You - (Penelope/Colin) Part 1

Rating: R

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn't giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Part 1

Penelope stared out at the pond, her last conversation with Colin still running through her mind. I miss you. Few months ago his words would have sparked incredible joy in her but hearing his smug confession last night had elicited nothing but rage. Even now an explosive anger threatened to burn her from the inside out - but she reminded herself to stay composed. Losing her calm over Colin Bridgerton was simply not worth it, not when she had far more important things to worry about.

“Penelope. How are you?”

Hearing Lady Violet’s voice from behind, she turned around to greet the older woman. Except she wasn’t alone. Of course not. Behind her stood most of her family, Colin and Eloise on one side, Gregory and Hyacinth on the other. Penelope quickly shifted her gaze back to Lady Violet. “I’m quite well. How are you?”

“You haven’t paid us a visit in a long time.”

Penelope sensed the scorn vibrating off of Eloise in waves, but she ignored her former friend. Even though her soul ached at the loss of their friendship, a part of her had already grown resigned to their new reality. “I’m afraid country life has kept me busy all these months.”

“Well, you’re back now. I hope to see you at the house more often.”

There was no mention of the falling out with Eloise, nor did Penelope expect there to be. Especially with Eloise pretending she no longer existed. Her eyes roamed over to her friend, only to be ignored. Inevitably her gaze slid over to Colin, and she suddenly found herself the recipient of his intent focus. Somber blue eyes penetrating her through to her very core, making her rattled and anxious and breaking down the very calm façade she worked so hard to build.  

Throughout their entire friendship he’d always been sweet and funny, filling her dull world with hope and color, but the night of her mother’s ball she’d seen the kind of cruelty he was capable of. It was a side of him that she never wished to see again. And feeling his piercing gaze right into her soul, in a way he’d never looked at her before, reminded her of how much of a stranger he really was. “Forgive me, Lady Violet, but I must take my leave. Mama shall be waiting for me.”

She quickly walked past the group, breathing a sigh of relief at no longer being under Colin’s scrutiny. Her relief, however, lasted only a few seconds. Because almost immediately Colin was striding alongside her.

“Pen, we need to speak.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then I’ll do the talking.”

“And I’m not interested in listening.”

“Too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She cursed his long legs, because while she struggled to keep up the fast pace he seemed to glide along the path without much effort. Short of running away from him, which would surely cause a scandal amongst the crowd promenading, she had no choice but to keep walking.

“I’m sorry. Truly.” His voice was soft, velvety like butter, like he’d practiced the words many, many times in preparation for the performance of a lifetime. “My words that night-”

“Do you know that I read your letters over the summer? Despite my anger, I still read them.”

An unexpected rawness laced his voice. “Why?”

“Because I needed to know. Would I recognize that insincerity in your words now that I knew the truth about your disdain towards me. And do you know what I discovered?”

She finally turned to look at him, and just for a moment the world stopped. Like it always did. His eyes were bluer than the sea itself, a symphony of agony and need, beckoning her towards him. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, her heart caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

“Tell me.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a plea. It was a demand. As if he was entitled to her thoughts, her heart. Her very soul.  Well, damn him. Damn him for playing her for a fool. And damn herself for ever loving him. “You are an extraordinarily talented writer, Mr. Bridgerton. So good in fact that I woulld never have guessed your true thoughts if I didn’t hear you utter them myself.”

“That’s not fair. It was one night, Pen! One night! When I was drunk out of my mind and said something foolish. Are you really willing to give up on me after years of friendship because of something so small?”

“Yes.” Her response was quick and resolute, surprising even herself.

Stunned, Colin stared back at her. “Yes?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

The change in him was sudden and abrupt, taking her by surprise when he moved swiftly to block her path.

The blues of his eyes were so dark they bordered on brown, a storm brewing in them. Staring back at her was a man she didn’t recognize, different from the boy she grew up with,and the man who humiliated her without a thought. This was a stranger in front of her, anger etched on his face, jaw clenched with tension.

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

She didn’t think he could hurt her more, but he managed to do it nonetheless. “I never expected you to court me, Colin. You don’t love me. I’m quite aware of that. But you could have told them there was nothing between us. You could’ve even said I meant nothing to you. Instead you mocked me, derided me so you could look good in front of your peers, and that makes you someone I never want to associate with.”

 “I made a mistake, Pen.”

“Miss Featherington,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “That is who I am to you from now on. Nothing more.”

“So that’s it? I make a mistake and you erase me from your life just like that?” He snapped his finger angrily. “Are you so fucking perfect that you’ve never wronged anyone?

They’d been standing still for far too long, their conversation growing more potent every second. All of a sudden she was acutely aware of glances in her direction, people’s eyes sliding over her and Colin, and she realized how dangerous this was. Risking her carefully crafted plans for a few heated moments with him was idiotic. “People are staring at us, Colin.”

“I don’t care.”

“Obviously.” She offered a small smile at the couple who walked past her, trying to appear amiable. “You may not be concerned about my reputation but I am. And I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way.”

“I’m not willing to give up on our friendship like you.”

His snarky words drew her gaze back to him. “Walk away, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me be.”

“And if I don’t?”

The hint of menace sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You would not be the gentleman you claim to be.”

“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps everything you’ve accused me of is true.” He took a step closer, eyes shining brightly. “Maybe I am cunning and cruel. What then?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “What is it that you want from me?”

“Forgiveness.”

“Fine. You’re forgiven.”

“You’re lying.”

“And you’re being rude.”

Eyes locked, they regarded each other intently. She didn’t understand what he was doing, why he was behaving this way. Why his stare seemed to be all consuming, studying her, trailing down to her mouth when she licked her bottom lip before drifting back up again. He’d never behaved this way before, A complete stranger in every way. “If you ever valued me as a friend, you would do as I ask.”

“I could say the same. If you valued me, you wouldn’t cast me aside.”

“You can not force me to continue this.”

“Would that be such a hardship? To move past one mistake and leave it behind us?” Desperation brimmed from him, he swallowed audibly. “I may not wish to court you but you are important to me. You’re my dearest friend. I can not envision a life without you.”

She exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. “You must.”

His lips twisted into a cruel plea. “Why?”

“Because I am to be married, Colin!” Instantly she regretted her words, hating herself for letting him provoke her. Yes, it was the truth, a plan that had taken months to carefully develop and plot – and now she’d ruined it by announcing it too early, and to him of all people!

“What?” He faltered back, stunned by her words. “You’re engaged? To whom? Why-”

“All you need to know is that my future husband and I have already discussed the matter and he wishes for me to have nothing to do with you. So goodbye, Mr. Bridgerton, because this the last time you and I will speak alone.” She stormed away, before he could stop her.

To be continued...

A/N - Um, thoughts? Feedback is always appreciated. I'm liking the idea of Colin and Penelope going head to head over the destruction of their friendship :)

[ripdragonbeans]

Can I Move In? // modern!Aemond x Aegon'sBFF!reader

Summary: You and Aegon have been best friends since gods know when. Aemond's always in the background but you've always taken note of him. Maybe moving in with the brothers wouldn't be half bad.

CW: afab reader, second hand embarrassment, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, Aegon being chaotic af, no beta

A/N: This is absolutely so self indulgent. It's just a fun fic. I love the dynamic between Aegon and reader here. What a chaotic duo.

Out of all the Targaryen siblings, the most chaotic and impulsive one was your best friend. You and Aegon were as thick as thieves, pulling off pranks on teachers, doing stupid dares, and living life to the most exciting way you can. You were always bold, never caring about whatever anyone thought about you, calling people out on their bullshit, and being unapologetically you. That's part of what made you and Aegon such wonderful friends. You two thrived on having fun and it was complete joy when you got into the same university. The only downside was that Aegon's little brother, Aemond, got in as well a year later, and moved in with Aegon.

According to Aemond, you guys had too much energy. Unlike Aegon, Aemond preferred the quiet and peaceful kind of atmosphere. With you and Aegon around, however, that kind of atmosphere was non-existent.

"YOU CHEATED!" Aegon yelled across the apartment.

You laughed maniacally as you sprinted into the kitchen. "Oh, get the fuck over yourself!"

Aemond groaned and dropped his head on the counter. The day had barely started and yet he was already at his peak tolerance for you and Aegon."Do you two really have to do this now?" He grumbled.

You skidded to a stop on the other side of the counter and forgot about running away from Aegon. "Why? Is something wrong?" You gave him a smirk. "Get that stick out of your ass and lighten up, Aemond. Besides, it's Saturday. You don't need to be all up in your classwork right now. Chill, dude."

"There wouldn't be a stick if you and Aegon were a little less annoying."

"Awwww, did you hear that, Aeg? He thinks we're annoying." You felt a yank on your hair and turned around to see Aegon smirking. "Fucking hell dude, you didn't have to pull that hard," you grunted.

"That's what you get for cheating in Mario Kart," Aegon countered. He stuck his tongue out at you before he looked at his annoyed brother and rolled his eyes. "He's always annoyed with us. But I think I know a way to make him even more miserable," he suggested with a knowing look.

Aegon's been lowkey coming onto you for years now. He didn't miss the way you've matured. He's always been a tits and ass guy and considered himself lucky for being able to be physically close to you.

You rolled your eyes at your best friend knowing full well he's been trying to get into your pants. "Aeg, no is no but I applaud your effort," you laugh.

Despite being so close to Aegon, you could never see yourself sleeping with him. Aemond, however? He could be an ass but you'd be a fool to ignore how absolutely fine he is. His silver-blond hair was almost always tied up in a bun with a few strands falling down here and there. The dress shirts he wore to classes had the top two buttons undone and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. What made him hotter? His violet eye paired with a stunning blue fake one.

If Aemond wasn't Aegon's brother you'd be head over heels for him. His stuck up preppy attitude was annoying but you knew it was only because he focused so much on his classwork, something he wanted to excel in and make a future of. His loyalty to the family business was strong and you could tell that it bled to his dedication to his family. You'd be lying if you said that kind of dedication didn't turn you on. And truly, the times you've seen him relaxed and having fun have been beautiful. Aemond was truly beautiful and hot and you wanted more of him but figured it was best to play the annoying best friend of his brother.

Aemond let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his eyes. "Can you two take this somewhere else? I have work to do."

"Well, maybe if you didn't do your work in a communal area that wouldn't be a problem. But fine, I guess Aeg and I can go somewhere else." You grabbed Aegon's hand and took him to his room to continue playing Mario Kart.

~~~

Aegon flopped down on the small couch. "I don't know how I've managed to live with him. He's always been an ass."

You landed next to Aegon and picked up a Switch controller. "You've been able to live with him because you're his brother and you have me as your best friend, Aeg. It's literally that simple," you grinned. "I'm here all the time so I might as well be living with you."

The Nintendo Switch started up and you clicked through to get to the home screen of Mario Kart.

Mario Kaaart eight! Let'sa Goooooo!!! Yahoo!

"Okay, so are you telling me that if you just moved in here permanently everything would be great and Aemond wouldn't have his head up his ass?" Aegon clicked through the characters and landed on Bowser on a bike.

"Of course, Aeg. The only way for it to work was to get Aemond to be okay with it since he, you know, pays for most of this, like the rent, electricity, WiFi, water. All of it, really." you explained.

“Hey, I pay the phone bill!”

“Congrats, you pay one thing.”

The two of you took your time picking out your characters even though you both had your go-to ones. But really both of you were stalling for time.

“You know, Aemond actually isn't bad when you're here. He's still an asshole but he's outside more and not holed up in his room,” Aegon shared.

You ignored the new information Aegon revealed and continued to pick your character. In the end you chose Isabelle from Animal Crossing.

Aegon's eyes darted to your side of the screen. "Isabelle? Really? She's not even part of the Mario universe!"

You rolled your eyes at his Mario purity talk. "Isabelle is the queen of everything and she'll fuck you up, I promise."

"Whatever, let's get this going."

After two rounds, Mushroom Gorge and Moo Moo Meadows, Aegon pressed pause.

"Aeg, what the fuck? I was beating your ass!" you complained. You put the controller down before you started smacking him repeatedly.

"Okay, hear me out. I just had an idea," Aegon grunted as he replaced his switch controller with a pillow to defend himself. "Bunny! Kitten!" he pushed himself lower into the couch.

"Dude, I was gonna win and you pressed pause!" You stopped hitting him and fell back into your spot and pouted at him. "And never call me those names again, too weird." A few beats of silence passed as Aegon recovered from his Mario Kart beating. You looked at him expectantly, "what's this idea that was so important?"

Aegon let out a big sigh, "Please don't hate me, but maybe if you could convince Aemond, he'd let you move in?"

"I understand that logic but… I don't see what you want me to do about it." You hoped he wasn't going to suggest something you'd never do: seduce Aemond.

"Get on his friendly side. I know it's gonna be hard and it's super vague but that's all I got."

"Oh, thank the fucking gods," you released a breath.

Aegon raised an eyebrow. "'Thank the fucking gods?' What did you think I was going to say?"

Heat rushed to your face and you immediately dropped your head in an attempt to hide. You really didn't want to tell Aegon what you thought he was suggesting.

"Come on, kitten. It can't be that bad," he commented.

"I'm gonna fucking stab you," you mumbled.

Aegon scoffed before reaching for his controller. You took the opportunity to settle yourself and reach for yours to start up again.

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, you can choose the course."

You gave him a smile. "Thanks, Aeg. Bowser's Castle so I can rip you a new one."

"Whatever you say, boss. You still gotta tell me what you were saying earlier." He clicked on Bowser's Castle.

Throughout the race you two were neck and neck, constantly trading first and second place. Aegon kept taunting you and pointing out your mistakes and bad turns. You would do the same but he wasn't struggling as much as you were.

"Uh oh, Isabelle, looks like I'm gonna pull a win this time!"

You rolled your eyes at him the best you could while still paying attention to the screen. He was right, he was gonna win and you'd never hear the end of it. Until you decided to drop what you thought earlier timed perfectly with a red shell.

"By the way," you started with a red shell in clutch, "I thought you were going to tell me to fuck Aemond." Red shell released.

"I'm sorry, what?" Aegon immediately turned to you, unwisely forgetting the game. Bowser got hit by the red shell, flipped, and Isabelle took the lead and crossed the finish line.

Securing your third win, you hopped up on the couch and let out an ungodly "I WON, BITCH!"

Aegon, however, was still recovering from your little comment to be upset about your sneaky Mario Kart tactic. "You thought I wanted you to seduce my brother so he'd let you move in?"

Coming down from your high you sat back down.

"And you were embarrassed by it?"

You felt a blush beginning to form. "Yeah, I mean it kinda caught me off guard. My mind just went to the worst case scenario, you know?" You let out a light laugh.

Aegon stared at you. You being flustered was not something that happened frequently. Or at all.

"Oh gods, don't tell me." He pushed down a laugh. He took you by the shoulders to turn towards him. "There's no way. Holy shit." Aegon let out a small laugh this time. "My best friend, my chaotic partner in crime, has a fucking crush on my pain in the ass brother, Aemond?!" He howled with laughter as he let go of your shoulders and toppled back on the couch.

Color was most definitely covering your face now. "Shut the fuck up, Aegon. It's not my fault you Targaryens are attractive," you defended.

Aegon crossed his arms. "Oh, so you think all us Targaryens are attractive? What about me, bunny?" His puppy dog eyes were fixed on you.

"First off, knock off the puppy look. Second, we both know that you just want a quick fuck and that could be really weird for us. Third, keep calling me weird ass pet names and I will absolutely fucking tear you apart."

"You'd tear me apart? Hm, maybe I'll keep doing it then." He laughed and knocked your shoulder with his while you scrunched your nose in disgust. "Okay, fine, I'll stop. Still boosts my ego to know you find me attractive though."

"Great, just what I wanted to do," you rolled your eyes and gave him a smile. "So, all I need to do is be friendly with Aemond, right?"

"Yeah, you could that. Or you can try to seduce him and maybe even fuck him," Aegon wiggled his eyebrows.

You gave a huff. "Fine. I'll do it, but what happens happens. As in I'm not telling you what I plan on doing."

"That's fine by me, just don't be too weird." He gave you a wink. "One last race to finish it out and then you can start your seduction on my brother."

"Fine. And don't call it that."

"Oh, and it's my pick now so I choose, drum roll please," he rolled his tongue and banged on the table. "Rainbow Road!"

The last race was not as successful for either of you. Bowser and Isabelle were constantly going off the sides. Terrible turns, very unlucky power ups, getting hit by bullet bills. It was a train wreck. Finally, you two finished the race.

You were the first to talk. "Well, that was shit," you laughed.

"At least we both placed overall," Aegon added.

You both put away the controllers before you strided over to the mini fridge and grabbed a beer for yourself and him.

"What's your plan to take Aemond's heart?" Aegon asked as he cracked open a cold one.

You gave him a mischievous smile. "That's for me to know and for you to maybe find out."

~~~~~~~

You gave it two hours before putting your plan into motion. Granted, you didn't really have a plan but you were always an improv girl. Aegon was back at his PC setup playing something call Balder's Gate 3. It was something about finding a group of people to travel the world and kill a bunch of creatures, or something like that.

You went to the mirror to primp yourself for Aemond. That meant changing clothes to something slightly more revealing, doing your hair a bit, and applying some light makeup.

You walked up to Aegon and gave him a little twirl. "Do I look seductive enough?"

His mouth dropped as he took you in. "All this time you kept those kinds of clothes in here and you never told me?"

You were wearing a low cut v neck blouse paired with a short, fluttery, floral skirt that gave a wonderful view of your ass if you bent down correctly. It emphasized your assets, your tits and ass.

"Well, yeah. They're emergency date clothes. I have other stuff here but I figured this would be better."

"Damn straight it's better." He was practically drooling.

"Close your mouth and go work on fucking that green chick in your game."

"Excuse you, her name is Lae'zel."

"Cool, bud. I'm gonna head out, wish me luck."

"Just don't be too loud, I can still hear things from my room."

You rolled your eyes at his comment and headed out the door. Right before you opened it to leave Aegon decided to yell.

"BYE, BUDDY, HOPE YOU FUCK MY BROTHER!"

You made a point to flip him off before slamming the door shut and making your way to the living room.

Unsurprisingly, Aemond was still at the kitchen counter working on his most recent project. The only difference is that there was now an empty coffee mug next to him. You didn't want to reveal yourself to him just yet so you leaned on the wall and watched him work.

You were immediately drawn to his hands, typing with precision and speed. You've always loved the way he worked. With his head bowed slightly to be closer to the screen and the hard concentration in his eyes it was no surprise he caught your eye. You've tried to make your advances known, granted in very subtle ways so Aegon wouldn't have any blackmail information, but they all seemed to have failed. This time would be different, though. This time you were actually committed to going through with this. Aemond was going to notice you whether he liked it or not.

He rarely let anything take his focus away but you wanted to be the person who does. Straightening your clothes you walked past him, hiking up your skirt just the smallest amount. You leaned over the counter so your blouse dropped the tiniest bit.

“Hey, Aemond,” you said in your sweetest voice.

He didn't look up.

“I'm really sorry about me and Aegon being loud. Mario Kart is competitive and brings out the worst in us.”

The apology Aemond lifted his eye to you. He was obviously still very annoyed but his interest has been piqued. He hummed in response.

“Aemond, I said I'm sorry. Please say something?” You gave him an obviously forced pouty face.

“You're apologizing for being too loud? You've been too loud here for years and just now you're saying sorry?” He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah, sure, I accept.” He went back to his work.

“That's it?” You straightened up, completely forgetting about the seduction mission, and popped your hand on your hip “‘I accept’? That's the best you can do?” Aemond was being an ass.

“What do you mean? What do you want me to say?” he shrugged.

“I want you to say ‘thank you for the apology, maybe we should start over’.”

“Start over? There's nothing to start over. You've been Aegon's best friend for years and I'm the annoying younger brother.”

You could hear a tint of bitterness in his words. Aemond was always there but he was right, he was just the annoying younger brother that you ignored. You never did anything with him. Until now.

Aemond began to get up and gather his things but you stopped him.

“What if I want to start over, what if I want to get to know you or something?”

He looked at you with curiosity but the look was gone as soon as it appeared.

Aemond took three strides to go around the island to face you. He trapped you between him and the counter and leaned forward so that you two were just a breath away. His breath was warm on your lips when he spoke.

“Then do it.” He released you and walked away, gathering the rest of his things, and left for his room.

You stood there confused as to what just happened. You were supposed to seduce him, not be challenged by him. Granted, it did make you a little excited but it was not what you expected. You knew that seducing him would take more than one try but that didn't look like the case. It seemed like your initial plan had taken a turn to actually get to know him.

You walked back to Aegon’s room only to find his face on his keyboard.

“Um, Aegon, you okay, bud?”

He mumbled his response to his keyboard.

“I didn't quite hear that,” you said as you moved to sit on his bed.

Aegon lifted up his head and instead of responding he screamed.

“Gods, Aegon! What was that?!”

“I died! My whole party fucking died and my last save was like an hour ago!” He covered his face with his hands.

“I'm sure you're going to be fine.” You started to strip to change to your regular clothes.

“No, I'm not! I have to level up again, get to Last Light Inn without my party getting cursed and -” he stopped when he turned to face you. “You're naked.”

“I'm not naked, Aeg. I still have my bra on,” you said as you pulled your joggers on. “Besides, it doesn't matter. I've changed clothes in front of you before, this isn't weird.” You pulled on your sweatshirt.

“I mean I'm never opposed to you changing when I'm around, I was just in the middle of telling you something very important and your incredibly attractive self distracted me.”

“Not my fault you find me attractive, Aeg,” you winked. “You were saying something about having to level up again?” You sat down on the bed.

“Yeah, stuff like that,” he waved it off. “I need you to tell me how it went in the kitchen. I didn't hear any yelling, but you're in my room and not his.”

“Why would I be in his room?”

“You know, fucking him? Like the plan?”

“I never said the plan was to fuck him, I never even told you my plan.”

“Sure, sure.”

You rolled your eyes at his dismissal.

“I think I need to revise the plan,” you thought out loud.

“Really? I couldn't tell with the lack of you being in Aemond's room,” Aegon said while he rebooted the game.

“Oh, shut up I'm gonna tell you stuff.” You took a deep breath. “I told him I wanted to start over, like maybe become friends but he basically said he wouldn't unless I put in the effort, which makes sense, but it caught me off guard. He never even looked at my tits or ass.”

There was a beat of silence before Aegon urged you to continue.

“His exact words were ‘then do it.’”

Aegon's eyes widened. “Oh shit, he's serious.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he's actually giving you a chance to get close to him.”

You flopped backwards on the bed letting Aegon's words wash over you. Aemond was willing to have some kind of friendship or relationship and that itself was big. You always knew him to be standoffish, preferring to be by himself instead of around others but you were wondering now if it was just because he was scared.

“Ever since our nephew took his eye he's been alone, you know?” Aegon said in the silence.

You knew the whole relationship between them and their nephews was a complicated one. It was already odd with them being so close in age and then their family drama on top of that made it rough. There was enough of that before the accident.

“Aemond still holds it against him, hell I do, too. But he really got the bad end of it. His whole life turned miserable thanks to one stupid kid,” he continued.

You could hear the strain in Aegon’s voice. Even for him the accident was hard to talk about. The thought of losing an eye now freaked you out but losing an eye as a kid? That was unimaginable.

“So Aemond's just lonely?” You asked.

“That's one way to put it. He thinks he's an outcast. Never thought anyone would want him in any way. I mean there was that one chick that fucked him over real good. That relationship made him close up even more; unhealthy in all ways and that's coming from me. We didn't even know about it until it ended. Hell, he closed himself off to me, Helaena, and our mom.”

“I never pegged you and Aemond as being the closest of brothers, Aeg.”

“We know that we're all that we have. Me, Aemond, and Helaena. We don't take that lightly.”

“You guys have me; you know that.”

“I know, but it's different.”

Silence fell upon you two again as your mind wandered back to Aemond. Apparently he's already been in a relationship but it fucked him over so badly that he pulled away from his family? That sounded like too much. Aemond was never really willing to put himself out there but he went for a relationship anyway? A secret one? You wouldn't be surprised if he was still hurting, no matter how long ago it was.

Taking a deep breath you pulled yourself back up to a sitting position. “I think I'm just gonna try to include him more. That'd make him happy, right?”

“You can try but it'll take him a while. Your goal, sorry, our goal, is gonna be a while. As long as he doesn't have that stick up his ass all the time I'm chill with that.”

You nodded your head out of habit, even if Aegon couldn't see it.

“Can I crash here tonight? You dumped a lot of info on me and I don't really want to move anymore.”

“‘Course,” Aegon paused and you heard his smile in his next word. “Bunny.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes and threw a pillow at him. “I know it's early but I'm gonna crash right now anyway. Or at least settle down.”

“You do you, I'm playing my game.”

You chuckled as you made yourself comfortable on Aegon’s couch. It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to spend the night so everything was fine. Everything except your racing thoughts. All you could think about was Aemond. You never thought he'd have all this sadness inside him but you just learned that there was. You turned over to hug one of the extra pillows and held it close as you sleep took you.

~~~~

You woke up the next morning to Aegon's snoring feeling. As you stretched your arms out you couldn't help but think about your next steps. After a few minutes of thinking you decided there would be no next steps, at least not official, planned out stept. You'd take it naturally, no rush. You quietly got up, making sure not to wake Aegon, as you left the room and headed towards the kitchen.

You were expecting Aemond to be there, knowing he was an early riser, and part of you was excited but the other was apprehensive. Either way you steeled your nerves and walked in.

The smell of coffee and fresh bread engulfed you, making your mouth salivate and your stomach growl.

“Morning,” came a lazy drawl.

It was Aemond. He was already working on his laptop on the kitchen island.

“Morning, Aemond.”

He looked up in surprise. “Oh, it's you. Thought you went home after yesterday.”

“I thought about it but I was really tired and didn't feel like putting in the energy to go back.”

He gave a hum of acknowledgement before going back to his work. He had a rugged look to him, despite being up and awake. After yesterday, there was more of a pull towards him than usual. You always found Aemond attractive, even when he was working. This morning was no different. His hair was in a messy bun with strands loose around his face.

Though he wasn't looking, you gave him an awkward tight-lipped smile and nodded your head as you went to pour your coffee. No words were exchanged between you two. All that could be heard was Aemond's typing and the occasional click of a mug being set on the island. You leaned on the counter across from him and held your mug, taking in the warmth. It calmed you, letting you settle down before breaking the silence.

“So, what's your plans today, Aemond?” You asked him.

“Just working, as usual,” he said without looking up. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was thinking we could hang out or something?”

Aemond straightened up to look at you. “You want to hang out? Don't you need to spend time with Aegon?”

“I don't have to spend time with him, I choose to. And now I'm asking you if you want to.”

He cocked his head in curiosity.

You took a few steps closer so you were right on the other side of the island. You locked eyes with him and leaned over. “Look, you told me if I wanted a friendship with you then I'd have to step up and do it. This is me doing it.” You stepped back to the counter as if nothing happened. “If it makes you feel better it can be the three of us hanging out,” you shrugged.

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Yeah - I mean no - I mean no Aegon. We can chill. I still have to finish up some work so maybe in a few hours?”

“Yeah, I'll tell Aeg I'll be avoiding him today.” You give him a small smirk before turning on your heel and heading back to Aegon's room.

Just as expected, Aegon was still asleep. You didn't wake him, there was no rush. Aemond still had work to do and you had to sort through your…feelings. It was a quick exchange with Aemond but it was a little more intense than you expected. You didn't even realize how hard you were gripping your mug until you got back to Aegon’s room. Last night all you could think of was how close Aemond was to you when he leaned in. You could have pulled him into a kiss right then and there if you were thinking enough at the time but Aemond caused your brain to short circuit.

Chugging the rest of the coffee, you sat down on the couch and pulled up Animal Crossing on the Switch. You figured a little relaxing time with your island, The Red Keep, would do you some good.

After about an hour of Animal Crossing, Aegon finally woke up.

“So progress has been made,” you began as Aegon slowly made his way out of bed. “I’m hanging out with Aemond today.”

Aegon looked at you with sleepy eyes. “You?”

“Yeah. I offered to invite you if it made him feel a little better so it wouldn't be too awkward but he didn't want you dampening the mood.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Anyway, I think we're just gonna hang out here. If he wants to go out I guess we will but I don't know where.”

“Look at you, going on a date with Aemond and being clueless. Ugh, you two are gonna be so cute,” he mocked.

You flipped him off as you got up and pulled out some extra clothes; black ripped jeans, a black crop top, and a dark red leather jacket paired off with your combat boots.

“So, how'd I look?” You asked Aegon.

“You look normal to me,” he shrugged. “Definitely the same vibes as Aemond. Don't get me wrong, he can be preppy as fuck, but the dude has a lot of punkish stuff.”

“I mean, I guess I've noticed it.” You thought about all the times Aemond wore his black leather jacket and how damn attractive he looked.

“Uh huh, sure,” he waved you off. “But now that I think about it, you two are kinda the same. You're way more fun than him. You have the same drive, even though you try to hide it but I get it, you have a reputation to protect as the troublemaker’s best friend.” He winked at you before turning back to his PC. “Anyway, I’m gonna spend the day finishing off the Thorm siblings so you have fun.”

“Thanks, Aeg,” you gave him a small smile. His dedication to his video games would always be something that you found endearing. Not only that, but he's always been a good friend to you and knew you the best. With that, you left Aegon’s room and headed to the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, Aemond was already there with no laptop or book nearby. He let his hair down for the day and, like you, was dressed in all black but without a pop of color. Absolutely hot as hell.

Shaking off your thoughts, you approached him. “I see we’re both dressed for a funeral. Maybe we’ll spend the day at a cemetery?” you joked.

Aemond looked at you with a bored face. “That's all you have? A cemetery joke?”

“Relax, I'm just trying to lighten the mood.” You bumped his shoulder against his. Looking up at him you could see the ghost of a smile. “Wanna go anywhere or just hang here?”

Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “There's actually a place I want to check out. It's this ice cream shop called Winterfell and I've heard some nice things about it.”

“An ice cream shop?” You were taken back by his choice but was excited nonetheless. “Sure! We'll bring some back to Hel and Aeg if we can.”

“Yeah, cool.” A true smile, though small, graced his features.

“It's actually not that far of a walk if you don't mind it. I know it's a bit cold but it's not freezing.”

“I could use some fresh air so walking is fine by me.”

Aemond began to walk towards the front door but abruptly stopped. You bumped into him, losing your balance.. He turned around to catch you and you found yourself looking into his eyes. He smiled at you with a bundle of emotions but you couldn't figure out which ones. It was a mix of them; happiness, relief, thankfulness, kindness, excitement.

“Thanks for catching me. Guess I should be paying more attention, huh?” You laughed it off quietly.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he whispered back.

His eyes never left yours and for a brief moment it was just the two of you, lost in each other.

Aemond coughed, breaking the silence and quickly removed his hands from you and opened the door.

“Ladies first, as always.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

He blushed at the comment and turned away to hide it but you didn't miss it. You smiled to yourself, proud of making him flustered.

A gust of wind welcomed you as you stepped out of the doorway. For most, the chill would cause them to curl inwards but you embraced it. The wind wasn't sharp and uncomfortable but rather welcoming like a gulp of refreshing water.

You stood there for a moment basking in the wind when you heard the door lock behind you and appeared by your side. Aemond's hands were buried deep in his pockets as if trying to keep them away from you. He held himself close, tight as a board. The two of you walked together in a comfortable silence. Soon the weather became colder and you ended up gravitating towards each other in a search for warmth.

“So, ice cream? You still want that?” You asked him, breaking the silence.

“Already made it this far, might as well keep going,” he smirked. “They have other stuff if you're too cold for ice cream.”

“I'm never too cold for ice cream,” you proclaimed, only to be cut off by a gust of wind that caused your teeth to clatter.

You tucked your hands in as much as you could and found yourself bumping into him. Aemond bumped you back playfully, a small smile gracing his lips. When you looked at him after being bumped back for the third time you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was when he would smile. It was as though the weight of the world left his shoulders; there was a kind of peacefulness to him.

You bumped him back again but when he retaliated you weren't prepared. He hit you slightly harder than before. Losing your balance, you found yourself heading towards the sidewalk. You couldn't get your hands out of your pockets quick enough so you mentally prepared for your face to smack the ground. Right as you closed your eyes to brace the fall, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Hands still awkwardly in your pockets, you twisted your neck to look at your savior, Aemond.

“Sorry about that.” He coughed to break the awkwardness as he steadied you back on your feet.

“Don't worry, it was just me falling for you,” you joked.

You tried to laugh it off, even pulling your hands out of your pockets to playfully hit his chest, but even you sounded unconvincing. Your laughter died as you noticed some more color on Aemond's cheeks.

“I mean, you know,” you stuttered, “it was more of me falling because of you but that's just semantics.” You laughed a bit more. “For, because, does it really matter?”

Aemond simply looked at you with wide eyes as he still held onto you tight.

You looked down, just realizing that he still had you in his arms, but made no love to leave. Even in the cold and through his leather jacket you could feel his warmth on your hands. There was that pull towards him again, wanting to bring him closer to you, to be closer.

Once again the two of you were simply caught up in one another, content with just being there. It wasn't until Aemond broke eye contact and looked around briefly that the moment ended.

“I think we're here,” he whispered.

You slowly removed your hands from his chest and moved out of his embrace to look around. On the roof of a cozy brick building was an image of a wolf eating ice cream on top of the name of the shop, Winterfell. The rim of the roof was lined with icicle shaped lights, giving it a permanent winter vibe.

Upon entering the shop, the two of you were welcomed by the sweet smells of vanilla and waffle cones. The simple scents brought a warmth that flooded your very being. On one side of the room was a grand display of ice cream and other desserts. The other side had cozy booths for customers to hang out and enjoy their treats. Looking up at Aemond you could tell that he found a sort of comfort as well. A content smile graced his face as he took it all in.

“Hey! Welcome to Winterfell, where it's always winter here!” Boomed voice from the cash register. He was scruffy but had a jolly face. “All of our ice cream is right up here, and we have a lot, so take your time!”

Together you went up to the display of colorful ice cream. You made sure to examine each flavor carefully, focusing on the labels that said what was in each ice cream. Out of all the flavors you finally landed on a s'mores flavored one; vanilla ice cream with marshmallow fluff, chocolate chips, and Graham crackers bits. After you paid for your waffle bowl you turned towards the booths only to find Aemond already halfway done with his vanilla bean waffle bowl. You were so enthralled by the ice cream picking process that you didn't even realize that Aemond had his five minutes ago.

“Why didn't you tell me you already picked yours?” You asked as you settled into the seat opposite of him. “If I had known you were already eating I would've sped up my process.”

“You seemed very invested, I didn't want to interrupt,” he said seriously. He held your stare for a beat before breaking into a smile. “Really, it's okay.”

“But now I have to rush so you don't sit here waiting for me.” You threw your hands up in exasperation.

“It's okay, we can chill here.”

You snorted at the pun. “Heh, chill.”

Aemond rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his ice cream. “I've been wanting to ask,” he started. “Why the sudden ‘let’s hang out’ and ‘let’s start over?’”

“Honestly? I wanted to get to know you. You've constantly been around my life and I figured it would be cool to invite you in a little more,” you shrugged. “Okay, that and Aegon thought if we got closer you'd be less of an ass.”

“That sounds about right for Aegon. But, um, thanks for reaching out to me a bit.”

You could tell Aemond was uncomfortable but thankful all the same. He never really had any friends, never had anyone to do these kinds of things with so this was all kind of new to him.

You reached over the table to place your hand on top of his. “We’re friends, Aemond.”

“Yeah, friends.”

~~~~~~

Over the next few weeks, you and Aemond grew closer and closer. On days when Aegon was too busy with Baldur's Gate 3 - he kept making new saves - you would hang out with Aemond. Some days it was walking to Winterfell, sometimes he would help you study, and other times it would just be you two in the same room doing your own thing but enjoying the presence of the other. Looks were shared between you two that some would consider longing or loving but neither of your acted on them. There were stolen moments of peace every time you hung out with him. Subtle touches that could be interpreted as something more. But the first time you kissed his cheek is when everything began snowball into something more.

You were struggling in a philosophy class at uni and it was showing. Not only was your grade falling but your attitude wasn't the best because you were having shit grades.

Sitting at the kitchen island you smushed your face against your textbook and groaned. “This is impossible!”

“Aw, come on, kitten, it can't be that bad,” Aemond said as he walked in. He held a mug full of hot chocolate and set it down next to you.

“Don't ask me why, but you calling me kitten is nowhere near as terrible as Aegon calling me that.”

“It's because I'm special,” he winked.

You lifted your head off your book and looked at Aemond with those puppy dog eyes you pull off so well.

“Help me, please?” You pouted.

“No need for the look, of course I'll help you.”

Aemond pulled up a chair and sat next to you. You loved it when he was this close and was glad you had the excuse of a philosophy class problem to be with him. You never forgot the plan you had with Aegon but it stopped being that and turned into a genuine desire for friendship, and more, with Aemond. There was no more end goal to move in, just a goal to stay in their life as long as possible. But moving in would be a great perk as well.

Aemond's hair cascaded down his back. When he leaned forward to get a closer look at the book and your work it fell just past his face. You couldn't help but smile at the focus he had on your work. He always took classwork seriously, even if it wasn't his. Even with his hair blocking your view you could see the intensity in his eye.

“Your problem is your reasoning right here.” Aemond circled a sentence with the cursor. “You're playing into a false dilemma fallacy that anyone, if they're paying close attention, can debunk in a minute. Just because these are the most obvious results doesn't mean they're the only ones. There are more answers and you can find them but you have to look. Using the false dilemma fallacy makes your reader, your professor, feel childish. Of course the outcome isn't obvious but it isn't just these two options, either.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I'm just exhausted right now.” You reached for the mug of hot chocolate. “I've been working on classwork for the last few hours and I'm spent. Not all of us are like you, Aemond.”

“It's a skill that can be learned; you'll get there, kitten.”

“Thanks, Aems. You should go so I can focus.”

“Wow, didn't know I had that kind of effect on you, kitten. Kinda makes me want to stay.” A mischievous smile graced his lips as he leaned forward.

You leaned forward to meet him, drawn in by his stupid, yet attractive, smirk. Aemond’s eye darted to your mouth before meeting your eyes. He was giving you an out but you didn't want it. You've wanted him, always wanted him, and now was your chance. You were about to close the distance when you panicked at the last second and moved to kiss his cheek instead.

You pulled back as soon as you could and stuck your head in your work and coughed. “Didn't know you could be as much of a flirt as Aegon,” you laughed awkwardly.

Aemond stepped back, embarrassed. “Yeah, I, um…yeah. I'll leave you to your work then come back and check on you, yeah?”

He left without waiting for a response. When you heard his door close you released your breath.

You and Aemond almost kissed. Almost. But you freaked out and moved to kiss his cheek instead. It was so close, something you've been dreaming about for years, even though you wouldn't admit it, almost happened. Running your hands through your hair you made a plan. It was a stupid plan but it was a plan nonetheless. You'd get Aemond, or at least you'd tell him how you feel. It would just have to be in your style.

~~~~~~

“Hey, wanna have a go at Mario Kart?” You asked him. Today was a relaxing one. You, Aemond, and Aegon were all together in the living room doing your own thing but you were getting restless.

“Mario Kart?” Aemond raised his eyebrows at the suggestion. “You and Aegon turn into complete maniacs.”

You pulled out his nickname. “Aw, come on, Aems!”

“Yeah, Aems,” Aegon snickered.

“Oh, shut up, Aeggy,” Aemond threw back.

“She doesn't even call me that! It's Aeg”

You watched the two bicker in amusement. They may not always have been super close but since you reached out to Aemond their relationship has gotten stronger. They joked around more, even if the insults were still harsh, but it was better than it was before. Aegon even noted it was like how they were when they were younger.

“The three of us can't even play together, we only have two controls,” Aemond argued.

Aegon started to say something but you cut him off quickly. “Okay, fine. A tournament then. You and Aegon play first and whoever wins has to play me.”

Aegon and Aemond grumbled but gave in to the terms.

You watched as they chose their characters. They were certainly…choices. Aegon chose Donkey Kong, which made sense. Crazy and chaotic, much like himself. Then Aemond chose Bowser. On one hand it took you by surprise but on the other it also made sense. After the last few weeks you've learned that Aemond wishes for control, something he's never really had. Aemond in a position of power was something to think about. Quiet and reserved as he could be, you could only imagine what it would be like to be completely at his mercy. Under him, pushed up against a wall, or even his hand at your throat or -

“Every single race is gonna be one of the rainbow roads or any of the harder ones! No skimping out with fucking moo moo meadows this time!” Aegon pulled you out of your thoughts.

Aemond and Aegon were neck and neck the entire time. One race Aemond would win then the other Aegon would win, it was a constant back and forth. The first round of races ended up in a tie, resulting in a second round tie breaker. You rolled your eyes as the brothers hurled insults at and tried to distract each other.

“You drive like an asshole!” Aegon yelled.

“Gotta be an asshole to win, brother,” Aemond quipped.

“Don't you dare use that fucking blue shell or I swear - FUCK!”

The blue shell whizzed past four drivers between Donkey Kong and Bowser, zig zagging through the course until it caught up to Donkey Kong, effectively throwing him up into the air and stunning him for a second. In those precious moments Bowser sped past but Aegon was quick to recover. The two were bumping each other, trying to get the other to fall off the side of the course. But Aegon had one last trick up his sleeve to win the race.

“Hey, Aemond, I think our friend here has a little crush on you,” he said with a smirk.

Aemond lost his concentration and immediately snapped his eyes to you. Aegon seized the moment and raced past a slowed down Bowser to claim his win.

Aegon threw his fist in the air in triumph. “Ha! I win, loser! Okay, come on, next round it's you and m - oh.”

You barely heard Aegon and his shouts over the ringing in your ears. All you could do was look at Aemond. He looked at you with eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. You felt blood rush to your cheeks.

“Um…I think I should go,” you whispered. You dropped your eyes to the ground and dashed out of the room in two strides. Closing the door, you leaned against the wall and buried your face in your hands. There weren't any tears but you could feel the embarrassment tighten your chest. You were about to get up and leave when you heard hurried talking from the room you just left.

“You fucking idiot, did you really want to win so badly that you'd make her fucking leave?” Aemond asked.

“Yes and no. Neither of you were going to make a move so I decided to speed things up. You two are hopeless.”

You straighted up at that comment. Aegon was implying that Aemond felt something more than just friendship with you but you couldn't wrap your mind around it. You wouldn't let yourself. Letting yourself believe that meant being vulnerable. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Aemond, if you would please give me and Aegon the room that would be wonderful.” You said stiffly, your glare never leaving Aegon.

“Yeah, sure.” Aemond made it out of the room in three quick strides, closing the door behind him.

You waited a few seconds to make sure that he wasn't around.

Aegon made himself small on the couch, trying to sink into it.

“Hey, kitten, listen I -”

“Don't. Call. Me. Fucking. Kitten.”

“Okay, okay. Noted, noted, noted. Good stuff - ahem - you're not mad, right?”

“Oh, Aegon.” You took a few steps closer to tower over him. “I'm not mad, I'm fucking pissed.”

“But it was part of our plan!”

“Aegon, our plan changed weeks ago when I started really falling for him!”

Aegon looked at you in awe before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“IT HAPPENED!” He pointed at you and laughed. “I've been waiting for years for you to fall for Aemond. I mean, I know you've liked him for years but it's hitting you hard now. Dude’s been pining over you for a long ass time and now he's actually gonna get some.” He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

“Shut up, Aegon.” You blushed. “I need to tell you something anyway.” You took a seat next to him. “Aemond and I almost kissed.”

“You what?!”

“We almost kissed! I chickened out at the last second and turned to kiss his cheek instead.”

“Gods, you're an idiot. I bet he leaned in first?”

“...maybe. I didn't know he could be as cocky as you.” You relaxed into the couch. “I was gonna be the one to tell him I had feelings until you decided to take shit into your own hands just so you could win a Mario Kart race!” You covered your face with a pillow and screamed.

“You good, kitten?”

“Don't fucking call me that, Aeg. And yeah, sure I'm okay. I just gotta -” you screamed into the pillow again. “Okay, I'm good now.”

“Go talk to him, I bet he's flustered as fuck right now, which I wish I could see.”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, guess I should.” Getting up from the couch you steeled your nerves, preparing yourself for anything. “Wish me luck.” And you stepped out of the room.

You walked down the hallway to Aemond’s room and knocked on the door. “Hey, Aems? Can we talk?”

The door opened and you found yourself looking up at the guy you've been fighting feelings for for years. You looked him in the eye, not wanting to back down out of fear of rejection. But when you looked at him you saw the same. He looked scared, despite hearing his friend wants something more. Just like him.

“So, about what Aegon said, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell you myself and -”

Aemond crashed his lips to yours. Instantly you kissed him back. His arms snaked around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck, both of you trying to get closer. Eventually you pulled away, breathless.

“I guess that answers my question then,” you smiled.

“And what would that be?” Aemond pressed his forehead against yours.

“Wanna give us a shot?” You kissed his cheek.

“Oh, hell yes.” He pulled you into a searing kiss, taking you into his room and kicking the door closed.

Everything was perfect. You two fit so well together, as though you were made for each other. He held you tight, as though you would disappear any moment. You swiped your tongue across his lip, asking for entrance and you swear you've never heard anything as sexy as the moan that slipped his mouth.

He gladly complied, tongues fighting for dominance. It was messy and wonderful. Aemond’s hands cupped your cheeks as he pressed himself even closer to you. All you could feel was him, all of him. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and pulled at his hair, making him groan again.

“Holy fuck, I've wanted this for so long,” he said when he broke the kiss.

“Me, too, babe.”

Aemond smiled before dragging you to his bed and climbed on top of you. “All of it?”

“All of you. I want all of you, Aemond.”

As soon as the words left your lips he attacked your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses behind. He found a particular spot on top of your pulse point that had you arching your back and begging for more. Aemond’s hands roamed up your sides before slipping under your shirt and cupping your bra.

“Aemond, please,” you groaned.

“What is it, kitten?” He smirked as he started rubbing circles over your nipples through your bra.

“More please. I need you to - fuck!”

He finally slipped his hands underneath the cups, grasping your tits and pinching both sensitive nubs. Pressure began building up in your core.

And you couldn't get enough of it.

You followed Aemond’s actions and dragges your hands underneath his shirt. He moaned against your neck before pulling up and taking off his shirt. You sat up with him and held your arms in the air expectantly.

“Will you do the honors?” You asked.

“Hell yes.” He looked at you with his eye full of lust before tearing off your shirt and bra.

You sat before him, bare, but you never felt more comfortable.

“Gods, your tits are fucking beautiful.” Aemond bent down and took a nipple into his mouth and you couldn't help the sound that came out of yours.

You tangled your hands in his hair and held him tight while he worshiped you. It was as though he couldn't get enough of you, he couldn't live without you.

You brought your hands down to the waistband of his jeans and palmed him through his pants. You could feel how big and hard he was and you were excited to get him inside you. You moved your hands to his chest, ready to push him over and move on top but he stopped you.

“I haven't tasted that pussy yet and I need to before we do anything else.”

You whimpered as he pushed you back down and slid your pants off.

“Look at you, soaked through your panties. Such a fucking slut for me.” He placed an open mouth kiss over the growing wet spot.

“Aemond please!”

“Please what? Use your words kitten.”

“Please fuck me,” you begged.

“Almost there,” he smiled wickedly as he tore off your panties and replaced his mouth over your soaking center.

You couldn't help but watch him lap at your folds. He flattened his tongue against your core and liked straight through to that little bundle of nerves. When he brushed it with his tongue you couldn't help but moan his name and dive your hands into his hair. You swore you felt him smile against you. Aemond switched between licking and sucking on you clit, making you crazy, building up that pressure until you couldn't hold it anymore.

“Fuck, Aemond, I'm -” a silent scream left you as he brought you to your peak.

He held you down by your thighs, refusing to let you get away. He carried you all the way through and didn't wait to start again.

“Aemond, you're gonna make me cum again,” you cried.

That only seemed to spur him on, his ministrations becoming faster and faster. He moved his focus to your clit so he could sneak a finger in. Then another. Then another. The stretch felt so good and it made you cry for more. Between his licks and his fingers you came for a second time.

Aemond lifted his head from between your thighs and looked at you with absolute adoration. You pulled him into a hot kiss, tasting yourself on him.

“I need you inside me. Now.”

He sat on his haunches and fumbled around his night stand when you stopped him.

“I want to feel you raw. I want you to finish inside me.”

Aemond pushed you back down on the bed and took off his pants. His cock was standing at attention, already weeping with precum. You licked your lips at the sight of it. Fuck, he was big and you were absolutely ready.

He climbed over and pressed a kiss to you before lining himself up.

“You sure, kitten?”

“Aemond. Targaryen.” You pulled him into another kiss. “Fuck. Me.”

He pushed in slowly, letting you adjust to him. The stretch was slow and sweet. When he bottomed out you kissed him slow.

As you kissed him you began to lift your hips, encouraging him to move. He was soon thrusting into you hard and deep.

“Fuck, you feel so good, kitten.”

“More please. More, more, more!”

“Gods, you're such a fucking slut.”

Aemond held your hands above your head as he sped up. He bent down to capture a nipple and sucked. The added stimulation barrelling you to your third orgasm. With a strangled cry you clenched around his cock, hitting your high once again.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he whispered as he kissed your cheek.

He flipped you over onto your belly and grabbed your hips so your ass was in the air.

“So fucking perfect,” he murmured.

You felt him kiss your ass before smacking it hard. You couldn't help but moan. He smoothed the red skin with his palm and placed another kiss giving you a false sense or security. You rocked back into him only to feel him sheath himself fully.

Aemond gave you no time to adjust to the new position and fucked you hard and fast. His hands slid up and down your body, once again finding your tits, and tweaked your nipples.

He grunted as he began to fuck you harder. “All mine. Fuck, you're all mine.”

“Yours. I'm yours, Aemond” you babbled. “Please cum inside me, I want you.”

“Fuck, kitten.”

You spurred him on, his thrusts becoming messier and more erratic. Your fourth peak was coming faster than you anticipated, your walls clenching his cock.

“Babe, I'm gonna cum again!”

“Cum for me, kitten,” he commanded.

You screamed his name as you fell apart; your orgasm triggering his. Aemond fell on top of you and moved to hold your hand. Both of you were breathing hard but stayed in the moment together.

“Aemond, that was…”

“Yeah, it was.” He turned to you and smiled. “So, would you say we're together now?”

“Yeah, I’d say that.” You pressed your forehead against his. “Please don't get up, it feels nice.”

“Anything for you.”

You and Aemond laid there on the bed still joined together. It was intimate and sweet, a moment shared between the two of you.

When Aemond got up you flinched at the stimulation and groaned at the lack of warmth.

“Don't worry, I'm not leaving. I'm just gonna clean us up,” he said as he tossed on some sweats and a sweatshirt.

You smiled to yourself as he left the room, happy that you can now call Aemond yours.

But your moment of peace was interrupted by a certain brother.

“YOU DID IT!” Aegon yelled through the door. “YOU FUCKING DID IT YOU FUCKED AEMOND! GOOD JOB, BUD!”

“AEGON GO THE FUCK AWAY!” You rolled your eyes at your best friend’s ridiculousness.

“AEGON, LEAVE!” Came Aemond’s voice.

“All right, all right. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone.” You could hear his stupid smirk through the door.

Aemond entered the room, face completely red with embarrassment. “So I guess Aegon is excited.”

“I guess he is,” you grinned.

As Aemond cleaned you up you couldn't help but think about the last few weeks, over your entire friendship with Aemond. He's always been there but now he was yours. You two grew together, learned about each other in ways you thought would only be a dream. You may be Aegon's best friend but now you were certain you were Aemond’s heart. But you had one last question.

“So can I move in?”

[inaccuratelybiblicalangel]

Lana Playlist ;

1.Kill Kill 2. Queen of the Gas Station 3. Oh Say Can You See 4. Gramma (Blue Ribbon Sparkler Trailer Heaven) 5. For K, Pt. 2 6. Jump 7. Mermaid Motel 8. Raise Me Up (Mississippi South) 9. Pawn Shop Blues 10. Brite Lites 11. Put Me in a Movie 12. Smarty 13. Yayo 14. Born to Die 15. Off to the Races 16. Blue Jeans 17. Video Games⁹ 18. Diet Mountain Dew 19. National Anthem 20. Dark Paradise 21. Radio 22. Carmen 23. Million Dollar Man 24. Summertime Sadness 25. This Is What Makes Us Girls 26. Ride 27. American 28. Cola 29. Body Electric 30. Blue Velvet 31. Gods & Monsters 32. Bel Air 33. Burning Desire 34. Cruel World 35. Ultraviolence 36. Shades of Cool 37. Brooklyn Baby 38. West Coast 39. Sad Girl 40. Pretty When You Cry 41. Money Power Glory 42. ***ed My Way Up to the Top 43. Old Money 44. The Other Woman 45. Honeymoon 46. Music to Watch Boys To 47. Terrence Loves You 48. God Knows I Tried 49. High by the Beach 50. Freak 51. Art Deco 52. Burnt Norton (Interlude) 53. Religion 54. Salvatore 55. The Blackest Day 56. 24 57. Swan Song 58. Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood 59. Love 60. Lust for Life 61. 13 Beaches 62. Cherry 63. White Mustang 64. Summer Bummer 65. Groupie Love 66. In My Feelings 67. Coachella – Woodstock in My Mind 68. God Bless America – And All the Beautiful Women in It 69. When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing 70. Beautiful People Beautiful Problems 71. Tomorrow Never Came 72. Heroin 73. Change 74. Get Free 75. Norman F***ing Rockwell 76. Mariners Apartment Complex 77. Venice Bitch 78. F*** It I Love You 79. Doin’ Time 80. Love Song 81. Cinnamon Girl 82. How to Disappear 83. California 84. The Next Best American Record 85. The Greatest 86. Bartender 87. Happiness is a Butterfly 88. Hope Is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman Like Me to Have - But I Have It 89. White Dress 90. Chemtrails Over the Country Club 91. Tulsa Jesus Freak 92. Let Me Love You Like a Woman 93. Wild at Heart 94. Dark But Just a Game 95. Not All Who Wander Are Lost 96. Yosemite 97. Breaking Up Slowly 98. Dance Till We Die 99. For Free 100. Text Book 101. Blue Banisters 102. Arcadia 103. Interlude – The Trio 104. Black Bathing Suit 105. If You Lie Down With Me 106. Beautiful 107. Violets for Roses 108. Dealer 109. Thunder 110. Wildflower Wildfire 111. Nectar of the Gods 112. Living Legend 113. Cherry Blossom 114. Sweet Carolina 115. The Grants 116. Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd 117. Sweet 118. A&W 119. Judah Smith Interlude 120. Candy Necklace 121. Jon Batiste Interlude 122. Kintsugi 123. Fingertips 124. Paris, Texas 125. Grandfather Please Stand on the Shoulders of My Father While He’s Deep-Sea Fishing 126. Let the Light In 127. Margaret 128. Fishtail 129. Peppers 130. Taco Truck x VB 131. Young and Beautiful (Demo) 132. Black Beauty 133. Florida Kilos 134. Behind Closed Doors 135. So Legit 136. Riverside 137. You Can Be the Boss 138. Kinda Outta Luck 139. Velvet Crowbar 140. Wait for Life 141. I Talk to Jesus 142. The Lullaby 143. Summer of Sam 144. Jump (Demo) 145. Hollywood's Dead 146. Maha 147. Queen of Disaster 148. My Best Days 149. Life is Beautiful 150. Gramma (Blue Ribbon Sparkler Trailer Heaven) (Demo) 151. Burning Desire (Demo) 152. In the Sun 153. Butterfly 154. X-Cops 155. Planet of the Apes 156. Red Hot 157. Afraid 158. Tropico (Demo) 159. Chuck's in Love 160. The Other Woman (Demo) 161. Flipside 162. Queen of the Gas Station (Demo) 163. Run With Me 164. Old Money (Demo) 165. The Big Bad Wolf 166. I Will Wait 167. Stars in the Sky 168. Alligator 169. So Strange 170. Dancing with the Devil 171. Wildflower 172. Pretty Little Miss 173. F*** You (Lana Del Rey) 174. GO GO Dancer 175. Beautiful player 176. This is what makes us girls (Demo 2 & 3)

[nanomooselet]

Wraith V / Through A Glass Darkly

I admit to maybe being overly obsessed with this thing.

Because of (naturally) the colours (and the fact that at 100%, it looks like a flatlining heart monitor, as if we needed more indications this is a symbolic death). Vash in red/magenta and gold, Knives in blue/white and violet - until it's complete. Then Vash wakes up, suddenly all-violet, while Knives is left only with blue and teal.

Why would that be? Because Vash is at last consciously using his powers? Maybe. Likely.

But I, at least, would also like to believe Tesla has more to her story than forever remaining an objectified victim, though I know I'm probably deluding myself. (I'm interested to see just what, if anything, Orange plans for her. I've always felt there was more to her perspective.) I like to think she's present too, in her own strange way, and not simply as part of Knives.

What do you think her opinion would be of these events? Of her brothers?

What choice do you think she would have made?

I, personally, suspect Tesla would have had powers both to bring and to take, just like Vash. I doubt his personality being destroyed and his body brutally exploited to access those powers (never mind the purpose they're accessed to fulfil) is a plan she would want any part of, whatever her opinion of humanity. I think Knives had no idea what he invited upon himself making contact with the Core, something that exists outside of time. I think Tesla and Vash are both stranger and more existentially terrifying beings than even he imagines.

Knives baptised his brother in order to make him fit to receive divinity - and in Christianity, divinity comes as three parts in one. Not two equal opposites, as Knives conceptualises himself and his twin, but a singular whole expressed as three aspects. Parent...

Child...

Spirit.

His plan worked perfectly. He could not have made a bigger mistake.

Having been baptised, having received the spirit, the answer finally comes to Vash, and the truth.

Whose side are you on? Who are you?

See, it's made a point in Stampede, more than before, that the twins are almost physically identical. The resemblance is close enough for them to be mistaken for each other, something which Knives exploits. Even spending so much time so far apart, it seems inevitable that they influence each other. When one looks into the other's face, he sees his own reflection as in a mirror.

Though that almost never happens in the series. Knives and Vash almost never share the same eyeline.

They don't see eye-to-eye or face-to-face. Not until the very end.

The English dub, the finale, the question Vash asks as he finally begins to cry - "Who are you?" There's a reason he asks the question in those words.

Roberto said it in the first episode in the scene where we met Vash as an adult, hanging in the desert. "This clown's the big bad Typhoon? Vash the Stampede… who are you?" (The first time Vash gets called a fool or a clown, and not the last.)

Vash isn't quite sure... or rather, doesn't know who it is that he should be, if not what he is now. He's only ever been a counterpart, either allied or opposed, to his brother, and Knives has made it very clear what he thinks of any attempts to be anything else.

The question Roberto asks is the question the whole series builds towards answering because Vash isn't certain there is an answer, without his twin.

Until the moment he sees his brother, really sees him, and finally realises... that is not his reflection. He can't see himself in this mirror. There's something missing. And if that isn't his reflection, then who is he, looking? Who is Vash?

Whose side are you on? Who are you?

Human or Plant? Gun or Superman? Darkness or light? Yin or yang? Water or fire, heaven or earth? Are you a spirit, or a body? A machine or a living thing? Daydream or nightmare? Monster or angel?

Both? Neither?

The answer he ultimately gives is... not choosing an answer. It's looking beyond the question and the assumptions that it carries; being truly free. Knives has no right and no means to dictate who it is Vash becomes, and he never did. The question he asks is meaningless, and the dilemma he presents is false.

There's no choice.

'Cause I'm Vash the Stampede.

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

(1 Corinthians 13: 12-13)

The only true struggle is the struggle against oneself. And, at least in that moment, love wins.

[jeridandridge]

Tender Charm

Agatha Harkness meets Rio.

No editing. We die like Agatha.

The first time Agatha feels a shift is in the dead of winter. Snow and twigs crunch under her worn boots as she ventures into the forest, a place of solitude and peace for the young woman who so rarely experienced it. The wind bites at pink cheeks as purple magic dances above her palm swirling between her fingers. Agatha doesn’t expect this winter to be any different; cold weather, sickness, nothing out of the ordinary.

Blue eyes shoot up when she hears a twig snap not far off in the distance. Alert as ever, Agatha looks around snuffing out the magic in her palm, eyes slowly tracking through the tree line. As soon as she sees the green cloak between the dead tree branches, she feels as though her power has only heightened.

“Rather cold to be out here is it not?” the strangers voice breaks the silence.

“The cold is more welcome than other things that lurk in the woods.” Agatha meets the other woman’s gaze, skeptical eyes drawn to soft pink lips that are unaffected by the harsh elements winter offers.

“I suppose that’s true,” The stranger in green hums, “I imagine you can handle yourself against whatever these woods have to offer. Your power cascades off of you like water to the shoreline.”

Agatha schools her features. Another witch, how could she not feel the woman’s energy?

“Mother says I am too rambunctious for my own good.” She rolls her eyes. “I know she fears me.”

“Since the beginning of time there have been women like you, and women like your mother.” The other brunette states, feet moving her closer to Agatha. “Never, ever feel bad about your capabilities as a witch.” Once close enough to see a speck of green in icy blue eyes, she extends her hand palm up producing a violet lotus flower. “You may call me Rio.”

Agatha’s gaze flicks to the flower, fingers taking the delicate piece of nature with softer eyes as she looks at Rio, the only person in the world who’s ever said that to her. “Agatha.”

It happens again in the spring. After months of looking for Rio in town and many days of frustration, Agatha meets her again. As the trees and ground thaw, life comes back to Salem. The woods and nearby meadow begin to make noise again. As the birds chirp Agatha lays in the meadow with her eyes closed and arm behind her head. As the warmth from the sun rays hits her skin, she jolts up when she hears rustling and feels someone next to her out of nowhere. Rio. This time Agatha notes her unusual clothes, trousers that hug her form and a suggestion of a shirt that had Agatha’s heart rate speeding up.

“You.” Agatha sits up meeting Rio’s warm eyes once more, “Where have you been?” She all but demands, drawing a smirk from Rio’s lips.

The witch lays in the grass next to Agatha looking up at her with a smile, watching the breeze move her hair. “Did you miss me?” She teases.

Agatha scoffs lying back down not taking her eyes off of her for a minute afraid she may disappear. “Answer my question first.”

“I make my way around just as the seasons do. Now it is your turn to answer.” She smirks.

The young witch finds her guard slipping, wanting to share herself with the stranger who seemed to understand her. Glancing past the woman she spots a nearby tree with fresh buds emerging from the branches with bright yellow flowers soon following as she looks at it flowing in the breeze.

“I knew it!” She sits up smacking Rios arm, “you’re a green witch.”

Rio sits up, amused smile gracing her lips offering her hand to the woman.

“And you, Agatha, are the strongest spirit witch nature has ever created. Your talent is remarkable.”

Agatha lets out a shaky breath through parted lips taking the woman’s hand. Having never heard a kind work about her powers, she was unsure how to respond. As soon as their hands touch she can feel her power coursing through her veins like a stream of rushing water.

“I still cannot control my powers. Mother says I am dangerous to the coven.”

Rio hums thinking, seeing what’s to come in flashing glimpses as her finger moves in light circles against the woman’s palm. “Soon enough your mother will see just how talented you are. Special. Never be ashamed of such things.”

Agatha smirks, heart pounding in her rib cage at the vibration she feels. If she were alone she would probably cry at the kind words she has never heard before. Rio keeps curious eyes on the young woman. she would never disrupt the order of nature, as much as she wished to help Agatha now. She has to be patient a little longer.

As spring transitions into summer Agatha spends her evenings away from her mother and the coven in her sanctuary of the woods. Over the last few months, Agatha has felt less alone, happy even often being joined by Rio in the beautiful meadow that’s slowly become their shared space. Sunset poking through the tree branches Agatha sits among the flowers, turning with a smile when she sees the woman in green.

Rustling through the tall grass and flowers a barefoot Rio appears. Agatha’s gaze goes right to the brunette, eyes tracing over toned legs and hands that make her think twice. “About time. I was beginning to think you had gone to the church service instead.” She jokes as the cicadas buzz in the distance.

The older witch runs her fingers through the grass as she lays down beside Agatha. “I could not say I would enjoy myself at a sermon.” She all but chuckles at the thought. Agatha lays beside her, leaving enough room for Rio to extend her arm, allowing the young woman to come closer.

Head on Rio’s shoulder Agatha sighs contently rubbing her thumb over the thin fabric of the strange shirt the witch is wearing. “Will you teach me today?” She hums in a soft voice, bright eyes looking to her favorite person with hope and something else Rio has yet to place.

Looking up to the sky Rio threads her fingers through dark brown locks. “Not today, love. Soon.”

Removing herself from Rio’s comfortable hold Agatha looks down to her with a pout. “Do you see me as a danger like mother and the others do?”

“Quite the opposite.” She answers cooly knowing what’s to come for the young woman. When that night did come, Rio would be there to not only collect souls, but to guide the witch she and the universe itself found so incredibly fascinating.

“How do I know you won’t disappear and never come back to teach me as you say you will?” Agatha challenges.

Sitting up, the green witch gently takes Agatha’s hands in her own watching the young woman’s eyes shift between their bodies. “I will be there when you need me, Agatha.” She tells her sincerely. She was already bending the rules of her power, her very existence, by visiting the witch as often as she had. She had ignored floods, fires, and famine to see the powerful woman instead. From what she could read, Agatha did not mind.

Agatha nods placing her hand on Rio’s shoulder to push her down, her head back in its place as she lays there comfortably once more. This was a welcome, secret escape from her daily life she cherished more than anything. There in their own little world Rio’s fingers run through long locks comforting the woman until nightfall comes.

Summer turns to autumn quickly for the green witch. She moves strategically and thoughtfully as the autumn nights grow cold and the harvest moon grows closer. In the brush of woods she’s come to know so well since meeting Agatha she appears in the tree line, just in time to see it. Ready with her torch, she stands watching.

“Please… I can be good.” Agatha pleads.

Rio’s lip snarls at the sight of Evanora Harkness.

“No. You cannot.”

Rio watches the witches blast their powers, trying to kill Agatha. As if they had a chance. Her jaw clenches as she watches Agatha’s eyes squeeze shut in pain, waiting for her to do it. She knows, feels in her soul, that Agatha can do this.

She watches as one hand breaks free of the purple and blue sparks of restraints. Hands moving, chin tipped up, Agatha takes every witches power one by one sending them slumping to the ground.

When it’s Evanora’s time, Agatha pleads again so desperately wanting her mother to understand. To no avail, Rio watches as Agatha kills her mother. The young woman crouches beside her, tears still falling at the sight until she takes a sharp breath snatching the cameo from her mother’s body.

A tree branch breaking sends Agatha into a panic, only calming when spotting the familiar figure in the brush. Gathering her skirts she bunches them in hand with her mother’s cameo and runs through the dirt and the twigs. Rio is almost knocked over by the impact of the hug, her arms tight around her neck. “Rio.” Agatha sniffles through residual tears and anger still flowing through her.

“I am here.” Rio promises, hand rubbing up and down her back, the familiar scent of lavender engulfing her senses standing there for as long as the witch needs. She reasons her actions by telling herself she could deal with Evanora later. The cruel woman could handle purgatory for a while.

Standing in silence Rio holds Agatha, only pulling back once her sniffling had stopped. “Agatha, may I show you why I am here?”

With a quirked brow Agatha keeps her arms loosely wrapped around the witches neck. “You told me you would be here when I needed you. I needed you.” She reasons.

“Yes,” Rio agrees, “However there is something else.” She tips her chin down, lifting her head only when her true form appears. Dark brown eyes watch, hoping she is right about the young witch.

Agatha’s mouth opens slightly, eyes tracing all over her face as skin changes to bone, a skeletal feature taking its place. Slowly removing her arms Agatha glides her her hands to gently cup Rio’s face in awe and wonder. Hands rest on Agatha’s forearms, thumbs brushing against the soft skin of her wrists.

“You’re death. The first green witch.” Agatha whispers in the small space between them, realization coming over her.

Ducking her head again Rio changes her features back licking her lips. “I am. I am meant to take and give to this universe. I am the natural order of all things.”

Hands still cupping her cheeks, Agatha’s eyes scan Rio’s, wonder and lust playing behind blue eyes once more. closing the small gap between them she places a kiss to her lips that lady death herself happily accepts. A simple kiss that says she trusts her. That she would follow her anywhere.

[chasingfictions]

I understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars / with you I serve, with you I fall down / when I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave / I can see you staring honey, like he’s just your understudy, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me / and you can aim for my heart go for blood, but you’d still miss me in your bones / fighting with a true love is like boxing with no gloves / my knuckles were bruised like violets / I just wanna stay in that lavender haze / this ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight / all that bloodshed crimson clover / clover blooms in the fields spring breaks loose but so does fear / so yeah it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it / my sleepless night, my winless fight, this has frozen my ground / it was real enough (whether weather be the frost) / soldier down on that icy ground looked up at me with honor and truth, broken and blue, so I called off the troops / I vowed not to fight anymore if we survived the Great War / threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now, it’s brighter now / I pinned your hands behind your back, oh, thought I had reason to attack, but no / and some things you just can’t speak about / when did all our lessons start to look like weapons? / flesh and blood amongst war machines / fighting in only your army, front lines don’t you ignore me / you’re not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? / I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace, and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves / I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you / can’t remember what I used to fight for / you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) / sending signals to be double crossed / not what she seemed not the twin from your dreams she’s a crook who was caught / now I’m down bad waking up in blood /

[snippychicke]

It's Just Business Part One

Go ahead, say it. 'Eliza, don't you have enough WIPs?

Yes. I do. But One Piece has brought me the most productive Muse I have had in a long time. And who am I to resist? Especially this face

Hopefully my last WIP for One Piece LA, and I can get all three done.

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over. 

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.  

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

Destination: 

You grew giddy as you saw the lights of the Baratie against the darkening violet sky. The trip had been longer than usual after getting blown off course by a squall you had encountered midway, and you had worried it wouldn’t be until late in the night before you were able to reach your destination.  

Lining up your ship with the deck at the back of the restaurant was pure muscle memory at this point. You had been doing this run since you were a child living on your parent’s merchant boat, after all. Patty called your name as you approached, a large grin on his face as you threw the rope to him to pull the ship in and anchor to the floating deck. "We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it tonight!"

"A small squall pushed me off course," You explained as he boarded, and you gestured to the barrel before grabbing a much smaller package along with your bag. "But you can rely on me, promise!" 

The dark man huffed as he picked up the crate. "Uh huh. Just make sure to tell the others to come help before you fall too deep in Sanji's blue eyes." 

"Patty!" You hissed, face burning as you paused. " I don't--It's not like that!" 

The cook's laugh echoed across the deck and into the night. "I was young once too." 

Theoretically, you knew he was right, yet at the same time to think of him, or many of the other veteran cooks of the Baratie as young seemed wrong. 

Like Zeff. 

The aforementioned chef greeted you by name as you entered the kitchen not long afterwards, his eyes crinkling as he smiled towards you. "Good to see you made it, I was starting to worry!" 

"Just took a minor detour!" You excused over the clamor of the kitchens, your eyes scanning discreetly for the other blonde chef. (Sous chef, chef, cook, you still were confused by the differences.) 

"Eggplant is waiting tables tonight." Zeff called, meaning your attempt at being subtle had failed spectacularly. 

"Oh no," You laughed despite the blush at being caught red handed. "What'd he do this time?" 

"Bein' a little shit like always,” Zeff finished whatever he was working on and washed his hands before bellowing out over the clatter of the kitchen. “Those not actively working on orders go unload Lil' Miss' ship! And you, lil' lady, let's go discuss business." 

You carried your package with you back to Zeff's office. The place was nothing like the clean organized chaos of the kitchen. Instead it was pure chaos with papers and log books piled everywhere. It felt like home to you, honestly. You had been raised by merchants, after all. Your parents had taught you the motto that if a person’s office was clean and well organized, business was bad. Chaos meant business was booming and they barely had time to keep things tightly organized. 

And business was always booming at the Baratie. 

You took a seat across from Zeff’s desk and you two quickly fell into a heated discussion as you haggled over prices, giving each other needlessly hard times for the hell of it. After finally settling on prices, the topic moved onto what was needed for the next run. 

"Alright then," Zeff said as you placed the order in your bag, along with the stack of money as payment. "You run off and find Sanji. I'm sure by now he's heard you're aboard and getting antsy." 

Your smile faded as you blushed. It was a very common tease from the crew, and you were fairly sure they were just playing around. Giving everyone a hard time seemed to be the cooks’ mutually favorite pastime.  "Hardly. I'm sure he's been chatting up some pretty gal or three and hasn’t even noticed." 

Still, you held the package close to you as you made your way to the restaurant proper. Nemo, the Maître d’ smiled as you entered, showing you over to one of the smaller tables on the second floor balcony where you could watch the rest of the restaurant. One of the benefits was always having a table reserved on the days you were due to come in.   

Even with the late hour, the Baratie was still rather busy. Couples mainly filled the tables, though you saw a few groups you assumed were friends and others that were likely business meetings. With the melting pot that was the baratie, there was no way to really tell who was civilian, marine, or pirate. 

"Well, there's the lady of the hour," A familiar voice stated, pulling your attention back. Sanji smiled at you as he placed your favorite drink in front of you. "I was relieved to hear you made it safe and sound, though I did miss our usual lunch date." 

"Me too, but the weather wasn't very cooperative today," You smiled as you offered the package to him. "Fresh from the tailors, as requested." 

Despite being on the clock, Sanji took the seat across from you before opening up the garment box, revealing the silk button-up shirts he had ordered. There was a faint smile on his face as he examined the shirts--he had left the color and pattern choices up to you so you had went with ones that would make those sky blue eyes pop. 

"You never disappoint," he said softly, apparently satisfied with your choices. 

"Gotta keep my favorite business partners happy." Which was true in a sense. It was just business. He had paid you in full last time for you to go buy the shirts. But seeing Sanji smile at you like that, his blue eyes sparkling from behind fine blonde hair, woke the butterflies in your chest and was a payment of sorts all in itself. 

"Well then, let me go see if those lazy asses have your usual ready. If not, give me a minute and I'll whip it up myself." 

》°《

You could remember first seeing the fishshaped restaurant emerging from the fog as a child. The Baratie wasn't quite as famous as it would be, but your parents, both descended from profitable merchants themselves, could sniff out a good partnership in the making.

That's when you met the infamous Zeff. You could remember peeking out from behind your father's leg to look at the tall muscular chef, amazed by his braided mustache. 

And also when you met Sanji--not much older than yourself--and at the time a fair bit thicker. 

And you got along like cats and dogs. 

Years passed and while you and Sanji were more likely to glare daggers at each other then say something nice, he was also the only person your age you saw the most. Your merchant ship visited every few weeks with produce, and both of you were usually roped into unloading and putting things away. 

"Damned oregano," You heard him mutter as you stocked the spices. 

"Doesn't that go in spaghetti?" You asked as you carefully poured sugar into the large barrel. 

The look Sanji had could've killed, but you were used to him shooting daggers at you whenever you were in the same room. "What did you say?"

"Oregano,” you repeated as if he was dumb (in your defense, you were eleven and firmly believed he was.) “I do know how to make spaghetti sauce now." 

"I'm just going assume you mean some kind of marinara sauce you put on spaghetti noodles," He sneered as if you were the thick one, making you roll your eyes. 

"Oh right. Sorry Mr. Fancypants, but not all of us literally live in a restaurant." So many sauces and different types of noodles hardly meant anything to you when you typically ate the same thing every day when out at sea. 

"Yeah, some of us weren't allowed in the galley until she was ten,” Sanji muttered under his breath not-so-quietly. “And can barely boil water as it is." 

You lost your temper despite promising your family you would be on your best behavior, and impulsively grabbed a handful of the white crystalized sugar before throwing it at Sanji.  

He yelled as the sugar hit him, glaring at you with murderous intent before giving another yell as he tackled you. 

And the fight was on.  Punches, kicks, spit, everything flew as you tussled on the floor, trying your best to make the other conceded.. 

"What the hell is going on here!" Zeff boomed as he pulled you both apart by the back of your shirts just minutes later, swearing both of your names. "The fuck do you think you were doing?" 

"She started it by throwing sugar!" Sanji snarled.

"He was making fun of me!"

"I was just stating facts!" 

“I don’t care who started it!” Zeff snarled. “But that is the wimpiest fighting I have ever seen! Absolutely disrespectful. I’m dragging both of you outside for a lesson.”

[malspinningyarns]

Random thoughts during Bridgerton season 3 rewatch, episode 4

Portia can’t just normally chaperone her daughter with a suitor?

Debling giving Penelope a fern is like when my coworkers have tried giving me plants. I work in a windowless office! I have ADHD! Don’t give me a plant!

Colin gets to miss the juicy gossip of John Stirling’s appearance

Violet wants Penelope to be a Bridgerton so bad

It’s kind of adorable that Benedict brought Lady Arnold flowers.

Lady Danbury really just wants to punch her brother. Also, dude, you don’t have friends in the country?

I live for this Pomeranian’s “tricks”

Brimsley is everything to me. He and Charlotte are true BFFs

Hyacinth’s mistake is pure cringe

To quote my mother “Isn’t he supposed to be Scottish?”

Those are some nice fireplace screens

Lord Samadani just has to be the center of attention

Can’t Will own the club, just not run it himself?

I can’t tell who is actually speaking so the disembodied voice at the library is like the entrance to a Disney attraction

Hey, look Queen Anne portrait

Lady Featherington and Lord Debling are in burgundy. Pen and Colin are in blue

Lord Debling couldn’t tell she was looking at Colin?

Francesca has such a crush on John. It’s adorable

The mausoleum comment Cressida makes about her home makes me think Lord Cowper will die soon

It’s hard to take Lord Cowper seriously when the last thing I saw his actor in was playing the very mincing Shakespearian drag performer Mr. Condell in Upstart Crow

Colin really hates these guys and so do I.

Lord Debling and Lady Featherington are both in dark blue for the proposal scene, continuing the idea that he’s Portia’s choice

Violet tells him to stop masking his emotions and then Colin immediately does it

That’s Hampton Court. Where’s the wine fountain? Is the wine fountain moveable?

That swan wig is going to win the hair team another Emmy

Have a shirtless ballet dancer in nude pants is a bold move, Charlotte

Debling is such a bad fit for the Featherington brother-in-laws’ himbo vibe. You need the wife guy energy my dude

Anderson really has not seen his sister in so long if he doesn’t know she the Queen of Meddling

When did Alice meet Lady Danbury?

Cressida’s fucking sleeve puffs

Lady Danbury really left before all the juicy stuff

Still haven’t seen a gif set of “she is not drinking the lemonade”😭

Colin would punch Fife and it would be worth it

Does Penelope have a full life, Debling? She has one friend and reads

How long has Eloise been ranting about feminism to Cressida? We saw her start before Colin left.

I’m surprised Debling didn’t shoulder check Colin the way he stomped past him

He is pissed

The “what have you done” conversation is heartbreaking

How long was Colin running for? They’re on like the back side of the gardens when he enters, I think

I’d like to point out that it’s the Featherington’s carriage

I love that Colin has been incorporated Featherington gold in his wardrobe

I love those gold shoes

Who hasn’t had to pretend to fingerbang a friend for a role, am I right? Just me and Newts? Ok. (In college I was in a play called In the Next Room or the vibrator play)

The laughing is so adorable

Colin, that’s not really a proposal.