#i'm excited to read your responses if you decide to do this

[terastalungrad]

I'm reading Life in Code by Ellen Ullman, writings on tech and philosophy.

I love the chapter "Is Sadie the Cat a Trick?", where Ullman talks of the 19 years she had with her cat Sadie, and - while reflecting on Artificially Intelligence - wonders whether the relationship between them was an illusion.

Was Sadie merely behaving according to her "programming"? Was Ullman merely imagining sentience?

Ullman considers various aspects of her relationship with Sadie. First, companionship. Second, familiarity:

[H]er coming to meet me at the door (even when her bowl was full, so it was not in the hope of getting dinner). There was mutual recognition of ritual: I knew the time of day when she moved to her favourite chair to take the sun, so I anticipated it and raised the shade. She knew I wrote in the morning, and, before I got to the desk, she was lying on her pillow by the heater, which had not yet been turned on. If it were just warmth she'd wanted, she could have stayed in bed with Elliot, who was living with me by then. Instead, she decided she would wait for me by a cold heater.

I love this paragraph very much. This reflection on the familiar behaviour of a pet, ostensibly to work out if there's a difference between a pet and sufficiently advanced AI. But also, it seems to me that this is an investigation into love itself.

Did Ullman's cat love her? Do any of our pets love us?

Instinctively, we think "yes". Ullman has applied a programmer's mind - and a philosopher's mind - to the question:

Companionship, familiarity, expectation, mutual recognition, bodily comfort: if this is not a definition of love between aging creatures, I don't know what is.

I'm away from home for a few days, with gigs in London and Birmingham. I always miss my wife when I'm away, and this essay hasn't helped at all thank you.

It makes me think of our own rituals. Sometimes - not often - I'm awake before Elanor. I know what time her alarm will go off, so I join her in bed a minute before, so she wakes up gently to a cuddle before the cold brutality of the alarm. When I'm working in the study, Elanor will sometimes open the door a crack, and wait to be invited in.

This is the difference between love and programming. Last time I was away, Elanor defrosted the freezer - an accomplishment of immense bravery and determination. She didn't tell me this, but when I came home she challenged me to work out what chore she'd done while I was away - knowing that, letting me discover this action by opening the freezer would be the best possible way for me to find out she'd done this.

How did Elanor know this? We've been together 20 years this month. Perhaps she reflected on the fact that I'm delighted by surprise, and by playfulness. Maybe she thought about the way I like stories - and that investigating the house, searching for new jobs completed, would give me the thrill of an adventure. It's possible she considered my love of novelty and shared experiences - and came up with this way of presenting her accomplishment according to these principles; these techniques for controlling the reveal.

All of this *could* be true. That Elanor consciously processed, analysed the data. Her understanding of me. Maybe, perhaps, possibly.

But I think she just knew.

Familiarity. Expectation. Recognition. Love between aging creatures!

People are so excited that generative AI can produce ugly pictures and bland copy. But I don't think it would curl up in front of a cold heater in an empty study.

Because any relationship with a program is an illusion. It isn't love. Because love isn't defrosting the freezer. Love is defrosting the freezer while your partner's away, anticipating their response, looking forward to their joy.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 

She made his miserable heart full. 

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

~~

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 

~~

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 

They couldn’t say no to her. 

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 

~~

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 

He had never felt so important. 

~~

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 

~~

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

She recognized the boy immediately. 

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

~~

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes. 

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!” 

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 

~~

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 

~~

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 

But none of it mattered. 

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 

His first laugh since the incident. 

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 

~~

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

[lev1hei1chou]

When their child wants a sibling

Dad!Gojo x reader, Dad!Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Masterlist Requests open!

GOJO SATORU

"Mommy, can I have a sibling?" your five-year-old daughter, Hikari, asked as she plopped down next to you on the couch, her eyes wide and hopeful. You were in the middle of reading a book, and the sudden question caught you off guard.

Gojo, who was lounging on the other end of the couch, immediately perked up. "A sibling, huh?" he mused, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "That sounds like a great idea."

You shot him a look. "Satoru, we need to talk about this first."

"But Mommy," Hikari interrupted, "all my friends at kindergarten have siblings. I'm the only one who doesn't."

You sighed, closing your book and putting it aside. "It's not that simple, sweetheart. Having a sibling is a big responsibility."

Satoru scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "She's right, Hikari. It means sharing your toys, your room, and your parents' attention. Are you ready for that?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes! I promise I'll be the best big sister ever. I can even help take care of the baby!"

You looked at Gojo, who was trying to not laugh. "Well, I suppose we can think about it."

"Yay!" Hikari cheered, jumping off the couch and running around the living room in excitement.

Gojo leaned in and whispered in your ear, "Looks like we're in for some fun times ahead."

Later that evening, after Hikari had been put to bed, you and Gojo sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. "Do you really think we can handle another kid?" you asked, looking over at him.

"Of course we can," he replied confidently. "We're a great team, and besides, Hikari will make an awesome big sister."

You smiled, feeling reassured by his words. "I guess we could start trying."

Gojo's grin widened. "That's the spirit! And, you know, the trying part is the most fun."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible, Satoru."

A few weeks later, you found yourself in the same spot on the couch, Hikari sitting on your lap this time, telling you all about her day at kindergarten. Your husband was, as usual, lounging next to you, pretending to be deeply interested in a magazine.

"Mommy, did you and Daddy think about what we talked about?" Hikari asked suddenly, looking up at you with her big, innocent eyes.

You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who gave you a slight nod. "Yes, we did," you said. "And we decided that we're going to try to give you a sibling."

Her face lit up with joy. "Really? When?"

"Well," Gojo began, putting down his magazine, "it might take some time. Making a baby is a little complicated."

Hikari frowned, clearly not understanding. "But you can do it, right?"

Gojo chuckled. "Yes, we can do it. You just have to be patient, okay?"

"Okay!" she agreed, and then ran off to play with her toys.

You turned to Gojo, who was trying to suppress his laughter. "You're enjoying this way too much," you said.

"I can't help it," he replied. "It's just so cute seeing her so excited."

Days passed, and Hikari kept asking every now and then about her future sibling. Every time, her dad would give her some humorous yet evasive answer, like "We're working on it," or "These things take time."

One day, you and Gojo sat Hikari down for a serious talk. "Baby, we have some news for you," you began, holding her small hands in yours.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Mommy is going to have a baby," you announced, watching her reaction closely.

She gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. "Really? I'm going to be a big sister?"

"Yes, you are," Gojo confirmed, ruffling her hair. "But remember, it means you'll have to be very patient and very helpful."

"I will! I promise!" Hikari declared, hugging both of you tightly.

As the months went by, she was true to her word. She helped pick out baby clothes, decorated the nursery, and even tried to learn how to change diapers on her dolls. Gojo, ever the doting husband and father, made sure you were comfortable and happy, always ready with a joke or a warm hug.

One evening, as you all sat together in the nursery, she looked up at you and Gojo and said, "Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, for giving me a sibling. I can't wait to meet them."

You smiled, tears of joy in your eyes, and pulled her close. "You're going to be the best big sister ever, Hikari."

Gojo wrapped his arms around both of you, his voice soft and full of love. "And we're going to be the best family ever."

NANAMI KENTO

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where Nanami and you lay snuggled in bed on a lazy Sunday morning. The peace was interrupted by a small figure bouncing into the room with unmatched enthusiasm.

"Mama! Papa! Wake up!" Your energetic four-year-old, Haruto, exclaimed, jumping onto the bed.

Nanami groaned playfully, his arm draped over his eyes. "Haruto, it's too early for this much energy."

You chuckled, sitting up and ruffling Haruto's messy bedhead. "Good morning, champ! What's got you so excited?"

Haruto grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. "I want a little brother or sister!"

Nanami lifted his arm and squinted at Haruto. "What?"

Haruto nodded enthusiastically, his hands gesturing wildly. "Yeah! I want someone to play with!"

You exchanged a surprised glance with Nanami before bursting into laughter. "Oh, sweetheart, where did that come from?"

Nanami sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Haruto, having a sibling is a big responsibility. Are you sure about this?"

Haruto nodded again, his determination unwavering. "Yes! Like in the storybooks!"

Nanami looked at you, a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face. "Well, I suppose we should consider it."

You smiled at Nanami, silently agreeing that it was a discussion worth having later. "How about we start with breakfast, and then we can talk more about it, okay?"

Haruto nodded eagerly, already bouncing off the bed and heading towards the kitchen, his request seemingly forgotten in the excitement of pancakes.

As you all gathered around the table, Haruto dug into his pancakes with fervor, occasionally pausing to chatter about his favorite cartoon or his adventures with his friends at preschool. Nanami sipped his coffee, occasionally interjecting with a question or a gentle reminder to eat properly and slowly.

After breakfast, while Nanami tidied up the kitchen, you took Haruto to the living room where his toys were scattered about. Sitting down among the stuffed animals and building blocks, you leaned in closer to Haruto.

"Hey, buddy, about what you said earlier..."

Haruto looked up from his toys, eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Mama?"

You smiled warmly, trying to find the right words. "Having a brother or sister is a big decision for us grown-ups too. It's something we need to think about carefully."

Haruto nodded seriously, his brows furrowed in thought. "But Mama, Papa, I promise I'll be a good big brother! I'll share my toys and teach them everything!"

Your heart melted at his earnestness. "I'm sure you would be, sweetheart. We'll talk more about it, okay? Papa and I will figure out what's best for our family."

Haruto nodded again, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and resumed playing with his toys. You watched him for a moment, marveling at how quickly he was growing up. Glancing over at Nanami, who had finished cleaning and was now watching the two of you with a soft smile, you knew you were on the same page.

Later when Haruto was napping after lunch, you and Nanami spoke about what your son had started.

"I never thought we'd be having this conversation so soon," Nanami mused, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your knee.

You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "Kids have a way of surprising you, don't they?"

Nanami nodded, his gaze warm and fond as he looked at you. "I think Haruto would make a wonderful big brother."

You smiled, feeling a swell of love for both your husband and your son. "He really would."

One day, after putting your child to bed, you found yourselves lingering at the kitchen table, a stack of pamphlets and notes scattered between cups of cooling tea. Nanami glanced up from a particularly detailed chart of baby essentials, his expression thoughtful.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours over the rim of his glasses.

You nodded, reaching across to take his hand. "I think so. Our little one is growing up so fast. It feels like we have so much love to give."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I agree. And he's already so excited about the idea of a sibling."

You smiled, thinking back to the countless times your child had brought up the topic, from drawing pictures of a baby with their older sibling to asking if you could name the new addition after their favorite cartoon character.

[sweetnans]

"I just hope that one day, we both can laugh about it, when it's not in our face, won't have to dance around it. Don't drive yourself insane. It won't always be this way" - Skin. Sabrina Carpenter (quote inspo)

Bakugo knew nothing about love. Well, that's what you thought when you first met him.

At the tender age of six years old, he had this habit of pulling you by your arm to drag you around when he wanted to show you something, his little fingers leaving marks in your skin.

When you were ten years old, he started putting his feet in your way so you would stumble and sometimes kiss the floor while he parted himself from laughter.

In the beginning of teenagers' age, thirteen, he used to put his arm on top of your head to make fun of you because he was actually getting tall while you were stuck in your pre-adolescence height.

At sixteen, he ghosted you.

Yep, that's what you read. He ghosted you because he felt this funny feeling growing in his tummy every time he saw you.

Katsuki never knew about love. You thought crying in your dorm because your best friend wasn't acting like your best friend anymore.

You actually believed it.

It all began when you two got into UA. He was excited, having someone to actually compete with? You learned a lot from him (almost against your own will), but after a few years, he considered you a fair opponent.

The feeling inside his guts happened instantly. One day, both of you were returning home from classes, in the train he was behind you, protecting you from all the people that were squeezing into their spots. A baby caught your attention immediately. She was smiling at you, and you couldn't help but make her faces, smile, and bat your eyes at that little baby, gaining a few giggles in return.

Katsuki found that amusing.

He started to see you with other eyes. Helpless eyes. That feeling that woke up one day to another got him desperate, pacing around, fighting with his own thoughts in a manic state.

He had never felt that before. He knew nothing about love.

So he did what he knew best. Ignore.

But we all know him, he isn't the kind of guy who can just let something (someone in this case) go...

He watches you from afar. He has studied your antics, your movements, how you express yourself with other people, with your classmates, with the teachers. He learned about you just by observing, and now he could easily read you. That was something that kept his mind at ease. Without talking to you, at least he could know what happened in your mind by just looking at you.

A few days later, you came down from your dorm with puffy eyes. He knew something was off. No one noticed because you made a pretty good job hiding it behind makeup, but he could tell, and he was about to figure out what happened.

You were preparing your breakfast. Something quiet shitty, Bakugo thought, but it wasn't his priority in that moment.

"What's wrong?" He asked directly.

He hasn't talked to you in months, so you were impressed that he decided to share space and air with you, let alone ask something so private.

"What do you care?" No one could blame you for your response. The bastard has ignored you after spending every day with you since you both were six years old. You didn't need his sympathy.

"I care," he said, leaning in the kitchen table, looking at your eyes. They were red and swollen but beautiful too. He had forgotten how you looked like up close. The butterflies in his stomach woke up instantly, but he didn't fight them this time.

"I'm not having a good week, that's all" you explained pouring some artificial cereal on your bowl.

He took that from you and exchanged for granola and oatmeal.

"I hate seeing your face like that. After class, I'm taking you to that ice cream shop you like, " he said nonchalantly like it wasn't one of the biggest gestures that he had done since you came to UA.

You couldn't help but smile. Maybe you could fix your relationship after all.

"It's winter, Katsuki," you stated, testing boundaries.

"Yeah, as if that had stopped you before" he rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead.

In the end, after he grabbed you by the arm and tossed you all the way to the ice cream shop, you came with the conclusion that Bakugo Katsuki knew about love in his own way and you were more than ready to explore that path alongside him.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[enhaven]

romance: untold | masterlist

— this summer holds the potential to spark or conclude countless romances throughout the school year. the warm evenings and carefree atmosphere create an ideal backdrop for chance encounters and spontaneous adventures, where sparks can ignite and lead to new relationships or deepen existing ones. summer experiences may leave lasting memories or fade away, and it’s up to you to choose before the school year resumes again.

genre: college!au, summer!au, romance, fluff, smut (hyung line only)

read here — roommate!au | acquaintances to lovers

summary: rumours about Heeseung made you hesitant to accept his offer initially but he turned out to be the opposite — showing you time and time again how good of a roommate he is. maybe it'll help you decide by the end of the semester if you'll stay for more or not.

read here — neighbour!au | ??? to lovers

summary: your busy schedule this summer has led to unfinished chores piling up at your dorm. fortunately, you have Jay, a very responsible and kind neighbour who offers to help in any way possible. and oh, he's very handsome too and you wonder when he can tolerate how messy you are.

read here — ???!au | classmates turned enemies to lovers

summary: summer's the best time to continue your goal of getting a driver's license since your schedule's finally not hectic. too focused while trying to practice on your own, you didn't notice someone lingering by the dorm complex driveway. it's the cute guy you shared a class with a couple of semesters ago and you wonder if he remembers you at all— surely now when you almost hit him by accident.

read here — summer job!au | strangers to lovers

summary: instead of a research position that you were aiming for the summer, you ended up being the caretaker of the university's greenhouse out of desperation to have a job on campus. eventually, it warmed up to you — thanks to someone who idles by when you're working and eventually becoming a familiar companion that brings comfort to you.

read here — convenience store!au? | ??? to lovers | taglist open!

summary: deciding to work as a night shift cashier at the convenience store near your campus has pros and cons. mainly pros since you're a night owl and would mostly be alone while working. it's an ideal job really until a certain customer frequents your workplace for his favourites - including you apparently.

read here — summer school!au | rivals to lovers | taglist open!

summary: you dread doing school work this summer when you're supposed to use these months to take a break. you have no choice though when you hear that Jungwon, your number one competition in your cohort will take available classes for the semester to make sure he'll be ahead of you.

read here — housemate!au | friends? to lovers | taglist open!

summary: with the rest of your housemates away for the next three to four months, it's just you and Riki left in the shared house for the summer. it's not like he's intolerable; he's considerate and respects your space, only interacting when necessary. but perhaps this extended time together might also change the current standpoint between you two.

.

a/n: ngl this was really unplanned but i'm somehow excited to release these! maybe cuz of the season or that there’s barely college fics around for enha when they’re literally in college age range rn lol. it's a shared universe but they're not gonna be posted in order tho some members will appear in each fic.

© 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? Their son, Jack always wanted a pet but with them traveling the world for the races, it was not possible. But when Charles recently adopted Leo, Jack asks his mother to help him. Knowing Toto wouldn't say no to her. With "indistinguishable squeaky noises' when Jack got what he wanted all along. And "Aww! A PUPPY!". They both give Toto a very crushing hug. Just major fluff and cute. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

Here you go! Enjoy reading it and I also add a small part of SMAU 🤭, well, since lots of you guys have been sending me texts telling me how much you like it! I read it all and I cherished each and every message. Love you all!

Jack was on a mission. He had been begging his parents for a pet for months now, but with their busy lives full of Formula One travels, it was impossible. He knew his dad would probably say no, but his mom was a softie when it came to family, especially him. So he went to her with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Mama, can we get a puppy?"

She smiled at his eagerness, knowing that she would have to be the one to persuade Toto. She lowered down in front of her son, ruffling his hair playfully. "Sweetie, you know your dad has a lot on his plate with work, right?" Jack pouted, his shoulders slumping. "I know, but I really want a puppy! Please, Mama? Can't you talk to Papa?" he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful. She chuckled softly, unable to resist his adorable expression. "Alright, alright," she relented. "I'll talk to him."

Jack's face lit up with excitement, his eyes widening. "Really? You'll talk to Papa?"

His mother nodded, laughing softly. "Yes, I'll talk to him," she assured him. "But don't get your hopes too high, okay? Your Papa is a bit of a hardass." Jack's expression soured slightly at her words, but he quickly brightened. "But you'll convince him, right?"

She chuckled again, ruffling his hair once more. "I'll do my best."

Over the next few days, she thought about how to approach the topic with Toto. She knew he was a bit of a worrywart when it came to Jack's safety, and a puppy was a big responsibility.

Finally, one evening while they were having dinner together, she decided to bring it up. "Toto," she began, her tone casual.

Toto looked at her, his gaze curious. "Yes, Liebe?" he replied, taking a sip of his wine.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for his response. "Jack has been asking me for a pet," she said, watching his reaction closely.

Toto raised an eyebrow, his expression immediately becoming wary. "A pet? Like a dog or a cat?" he asked, setting his glass back down on the table.

She shrugged lightly, trying to appear nonchalant. "I think he's set on a puppy," she replied, gauging his reaction.

Toto's expression darkened slightly, but he didn't immediately shut down the idea. "We travel constantly," he said, his tone pragmatic. "How exactly would we care for a puppy on the road?"

She had expected this argument, and she was ready with a counter-point. "I've been thinking about that," she said quickly. "We could hire a dog walker or a pet sitter whenever we can't be there."

Toto frowned, his expression unconvinced. "It's not just about the physical care," he countered. "What about training and socialization? A puppy takes time and effort to raise."

She bit her lower lip, realizing that his concerns were valid. "I know it won't be easy," she acknowledged, her tone earnest. "But Jack has been such a good kid, and he's wanted a pet for so long."

Toto sighed, his expression softening. "I know he has, but can't just adopt a puppy on a whim."

She nodded, understanding his point but not willing to give up just yet. "I'm not suggesting we adopt one right now," she reassured him. "But we could at least talk about it, right?"

Toto leaned back in his chair, considering her words. "Alright, I'll listen," he said finally. "But you need to convince me why this is a good idea."

She took another deep breath, thankful that he was at least willing to listen. "Having a puppy could be good for Jack's development," she began. "It would teach him responsibility, and he would have a companion to help him deal with the stress of our travels."

Toto raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "You think a puppy will help manage stress?" he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

"Having a puppy to play with and snuggle up with might make his time on the road a bit more bearable."

Toto considered her words, his expression slowly softening. "Alright, I'll give you that," he agreed reluctantly.

His resistance was starting to crumble, and she could see that she was slowly winning him over. "And don't forget," she added with a smirk, "puppies are incredibly cute. Just imagine how happy it would make Jack."

Toto rolled his eyes playfully, a small smile creeping onto his lips. "You're playing dirty, Liebe" he accused her.

She chuckled, loving the banter between them. "I'm just speaking the truth," she responded, her tone innocent. "A puppy would be a wonderful addition to our family."

Toto let out a small huff, a mixture of resignation and affection. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?" he asked, his expression resigned but fond.

She shook her head, a sly smile on her lips. "Not until we at least consider it," she said, leaning forward slightly.

Toto couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. "You're relentless," he said, his tone admiring rather than annoyed. "But you always know how to get what you want, don't you?" 

She smirked, knowing she had won the argument. "It takes a special skill to handle a stubborn man like you," she teased, her voice flirty.

Toto rolled his eyes once more, his expression a mix of amusement and defeat. "You're lucky I love you," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Throughout their conversation, their voices never rose above a quiet whisper, so as not to alert their son that they were discussing his request. Jack was currently upstairs in his room, presumably doing his homework or playing with his toys.

With a conspiratorial smile, she leaned in closer toward Toto. "Jack is already prepared for a puppy," she replied, giggling softly. "He's spent hours online watching puppy videos. Also, he had spent quite some time playing with Leo last week, and did not stop talking about it ever since.” 

Just then, a small voice called out from the staircase. "Mama?"

She looked up to see Jack standing there, a hopeful expression on his face. "Yes, sweetie?" she asked, knowing exactly what he was about to ask.

Jack looked between her and Toto, his eyes slightly widened. "Did you talk to Papa about the puppy?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

She smiled warmly at her son, her heart swelling with affection. She looked over at her husband, who was still leaning back in his chair, a resigned expression on his face.

"We've been discussing it," she replied to Jack, her tone light.

Jack's eyes widened even further, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement. "And what did Papa say?" he asked, barely able to contain himself.

Toto let out a soft sigh, knowing that he was outnumbered in this situation. He couldn't help but feel a pang of affection for his wife and son, especially when they both gave him those big, pleading eyes.

"We're considering it," he spoke up, his tone resigned but fond.

Jack let out a small gasp, his expression filled with glee. He practically bounced from foot to foot, his excitement barely contained.

"Considering it" seemed to be enough for Jack, as he squealed in delight and practically ran over to Toto, wrapping his small arms around his father's waist in a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Jack repeated, his voice muffled against Toto's shirt.

Toto chuckled, returning his son's embrace. "Don't celebrate just yet," he warned, his tone mock-stern.

Despite his words, Toto's expression was softened, and his arms remained around his son. He was unable to resist the infectious joy that filled Jack's face.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of her husband and son, their bond evident even in this brief moment. She knew that once they brought a puppy into the mix, their family would be complete.

Toto slowly extracted himself from Jack's embrace, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"But there are some conditions," he said firmly, his tone serious.

Jack looked up at his father, his expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Conditions?" he asked, his voice a little quieter than before.

Toto nodded, his expression still stern. "Yes, conditions. If we're going to have a puppy, there are certain things we need to take into consideration."

Jack nodded, his eyes wide and intently fixed on his father. "Like what?" he asked, his voice a little meek.

Toto ticked off the conditions on his fingers as he spoke.

"First, we need to decide on a breed that fits our lifestyle. We can't have a high-energy dog that we can't keep up with."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Second, you'll need to help take care of the puppy. That means feeding, walking, and cleaning up after it."

Jack nodded vigorously, his expression determined. "I can do that! I promise!"

Toto chuckled softly, impressed by his son's determination and acceptance of the conditions.

He looked at his wife, who smiled warmly at him, then back at his son, his heart feeling a mix of amusement and affection.

"Yes, that's all," he answered, his voice soft. "If you're still willing to accept those conditions, we'll consider getting a puppy."

As Toto spoke, Jack's expression slowly shifted from determination to excitement. He looked up at his father, barely able to contain himself.

"So that means we can get a puppy now?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

Toto chuckled, shaking his head indulgently. "Not just yet, maybe tomorrow" he replied, his tone gentle.

A few weeks had passed since the discussions had concluded, and the day finally arrived when they would bring home their new puppy. Jack was practically vibrating with excitement, his face pressed against the car window as they made their way home.

Finally, they arrived at their house, and Jack all but pounced out of the car, running towards the front door. Toto and his wife followed more leisurely, their hearts filled with equal measures of anticipation and amusement.

When they entered the house, Jack froze in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight in the living room. There, sitting in the middle of the room, was a small, fuzzy puppy, its wagging tail a blur.

Jack stared at the puppy in awe, barely able to speak. "Is… is that for me?" he asked, his voice soft and trembling with emotion.

Toto chuckled, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "That's right. That's your new best friend."

Jack slowly made his way towards the puppy, his steps hesitant yet eager. The puppy looked up at him with curious eyes, its little tail still wagging excitedly.

Jack knelt down in front of the puppy, slowly holding out his hand. The puppy sniffed his hand curiously, then licked it, causing Jack to giggle happily.

"Can I hold it?" he asked, looking up at his parents with wide, pleading eyes.

Toto chuckled, his expression fond as he watched his son interact with the puppy. "Of course," he replied, his voice soft.

Jack carefully scooped up the puppy in his arms, cradling it against his chest like a precious treasure. The puppy wriggled a little, settling into a comfortable position in Jack's embrace, its eyes drifting closed in contentment.

Jack looked up at his parents, a huge grin on his face. "I love him already," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and affection.

Jack wandered into the garage, the puppy trotting after him on its little legs. The puppy looked curiously around the unfamiliar surroundings, its eyes wide and curious.

Jack settled down against a wall, leaning back against the cool, smooth surface, and patted his lap, gesturing for the puppy to come closer. The puppy obeyed, clambering up onto Jack's lap and nestling in comfortably.

Toto entered the garage, a fond smile on his face as he watched the interaction between his son and the puppy. Toto leaned against a workbench, folding his arms across his chest as he observed Jack and the puppy. The puppy had completely relaxed in Jack's lap, its head resting on the boy's thigh. It looked up at Jack with adoring eyes, its tail thumping quietly against the ground.

Jack was completely enamoured, his eyes fixated on the puppy in his lap. He stroked the puppy's soft fur gently, murmuring to it softly. Toto shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You two are quite the pair already," he commented, his voice filled with amusement.

Jack looked up at his father, his expression filled with joy. "Scout's so soft," he whispered, still stroking the puppy's fur. "And he's so smart. He learns things quickly."

The puppy looked up at Toto, its eyes seeming to sparkle with a hint of mischief.

“Papa, can we go out and play? Maybe me and Scout can find Leo.” Jack asked.

“Sure, buddy. But please watch out and be careful.” 

Jack and the puppy were out and exploring the paddock. Suddenly, they heard the sound of playful barking and saw Roscoe and Leo running towards them.

Roscoe and Leo bounded over to Scout and Jack, their tails wagging happily. The three dogs sniffed each other curiously, tails wagging in a friendly greeting.

Lewis and Charles watched as their dogs interacted with Jack and the puppy, a mix of amusement and fondness on their faces. Lewis chuckled softly as he watched Roscoe playfully pounce on the puppy, while Charles watched as Leo and the puppy sniffed each other curiously.

"Looks like they're already forming a pack," Lewis commented, grinning as he watched the dogs playfully wrestle together.

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_user Say hello to our newest member in the Wolff family, his name's Scout Wolff

mercedesamgf1 Hello fur boss

user1 SCOUTS SO CUTE !!!

user2 New bestfr

user4 this is adorable

georgerussell63: scout 100%

maxverstappen1: 🐈's better

mercedesamgf1 🐺's better y/n_user Thanks admin redbullracing 🐂's better scuderiaferrari 🐎's better

carmenmmundt bring him to the race, wifey 🤩

lilymhe and I will bring my kids too, wifey 😚 alex_albon yours? kids?? wifey??? y/n_user yes, and 🤨 that's my wives right there! mercedesamgf1 wives? Liebe, we need to talk - toto wolff lewishamilton last time I checked I went to y/n's wedding only, not sure who she got married to

landonorris when can I visit Scout

y/n_user anytime little lando norris 🤭 oscarpiastri CAN you adopt me so that I can have Austria as my home race to🥺 y/n_user where can I sign 🙌🏻 oscar piastri-leclerc-wolff has a nice ring to it mercedesamgf1 Liebe? We have our child already? - toto wolff y/n_user the more the merrier AND give the acc back to the poor admin pls

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, and others.

y/n_user Studied so hard so Daddy took us to the beach 🌊

Comments are disabled on this post.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing. 

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin. 

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club. 

 The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about. 

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met. 

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud. 

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me. 

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home. 

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it. 

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again. 

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

  When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.  

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone. 

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste. 

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time. 

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants. 

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges. 

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive. 

“I can too!” 

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?” 

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.” 

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?” 

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.” 

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.” 

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

 “I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated. 

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.” 

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.” 

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle. 

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask,  “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?” 

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours. 

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.” 

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.” 

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream. 

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.   

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.  

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.” 

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years. 

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo. 

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him. 

You 

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night. 

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!” 

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.” 

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.” 

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.” 

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs. 

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?” 

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?” 

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?” 

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.” 

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!” 

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes. 

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.  

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops. 

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself. 

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile. 

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo. 

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man. 

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning. 

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.  

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” 

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve. 

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it. 

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear. 

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.    

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in. 

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point. 

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel. 

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied. 

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours. 

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you. 

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call. 

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears. 

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs. 

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller. 

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel. 

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his. 

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault  the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips. 

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you. 

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on. 

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently. 

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives. 

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging. 

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table. 

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms. 

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

Next Chapter

[specshroom]

★ - Some assistance

You and your boyfriend are lounging on the couch in the living room, winding down after a long day. He's drinking his evening tea and reading while you unsuccessfully distract yourself by flicking through channels on the TV. You decide to just come out and ask what you've been meaning to ask for awhile now.

"Kento? Do you think you could make me squirt?"

This poor man chokes on his tea and almost messes it on his home shirt. He just looks at you with a face that says "Why would you ask me something like that so suddenly?" You just look at him deadpan waiting for his response. He clears his throat and composes himself, realising it was a somewhat serious question and his girlfriend (soon to be fiancé, hopefully) wasn't just playing some dumb joke. 

"Well... I'm sure I could try, Y/n. But why bring that up so out of the blue, if you mind me asking."

He responds, as polite as always. He makes you feel so safe in his presence it's almost supernatural.

"Uh... I've just been thinking about it for awhile, I guess." He places his mug on the coffee table, the one that says "Live, Laugh, Love" in exaggerated curly font, courtesy of Gojo. He doesn't know why you insist on making his tea in that mug but he drinks it every time anyway. He brings your legs into his lap and lightly massages them silently asking you to continue. 

"I'm just curious to see if I can is all. Whenever I've tried to do it myself, I always just get too sensitive and stop, but... If I had someone else do it, I think I might actually be able to."

You explain this to him almost like a scientist explains their hypothesis, like you've thought about it for awhile. He rubs under your shins and thinks for a bit. he would very much like to be the one to make you squirt and he's confident in his abilities but he also doesn't want you to be upset if you end up not being able to do it.

"I also just think it would be really hot if you made me squirt." 

That breaks him out of his thoughts with a disbelieving huff. 

"The problem is that when I get sensitive I'm gonna be yelling for you to stop out of second nature. But you can't stop Kento, you have to keep going until I either squirt or say the safe word. Can you do that, Baby?" Nanami looks up at your serious face, you really have thought about this quite a bit. He nods his head, sealing the deal. You just stare at eachother for a moment longer, the TV still going in the back. You break out in a smile, unable to keep the semi-serious atmosphere. 

"Can- can we do it now?" You ask the man on the opposite end of the couch while you try and stifle a giggle. 

Nanami smiles and pulls you closer to him by your legs. You yelp as you get yanked into his lap where he attacks your neck with kisses. He hoists you up and starts walking to the bedroom. Once he sets you onto your shared bed, you start removing your shirt and shorts while he rummages in the cupboard for a towel that he puts down on the bed before undressing himself.

You're almost shaking with excitement and anticipation. Nanami sits against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, placing the towel on the bed in front of him. He watches as you turn to him with that sultry look in your eyes. You crawl your way up the bed on all fours until you're right between his muscular thighs. Your hands glide up his thighs and waist, you kiss him with need and he reciprocates. You break the connection to feel yourself up infront of him and sensually take off your bra. You present yourself to him and kiss him again before turning around and pressing your back to his chest. 

His hands go to your waist to gently squeeze and rub there. You spare no flare when taking off your panties and you adjust yourself so that both your legs are wide open, slightly bent and his stronger ones are over yours, forcing them to stay open.

"Put your legs like this so that it stops me from closing mine when it gets too sensitive." 

You say as you help him into the position you want. Nanami chuckles and bends down to say lowly into your ear.

"You really have thought this whole thing through, huh?" 

You flush and nod your head as his hand moves down your body to where you want him the most. His touch is gentle at first, lightly stroking down your clit and lips, gathering wetness with his fingers. He starts to work his finger into you and gently rubs your clit with the other hand, coaxing you to melt into his touch. You start moaning and groaning with the pleasure your wonderful boyfriend is giving you. 

With both his hands working on your pussy so diligently, it's no wonder your first orgasm washes over you pretty quickly. Nanami keeps going at the same steady pace after you cum and it's the first out of the ordinary occurrence in this session. You usually would get a grace period after you cum to come down from the high but you and Nanami have a goal. The fact that you get no chance to come down at all is fucking with your brain and the fucked out feeling is just multiplying every second his strong hands play with your pussy. 

Nanami lays back a bit, forcing you to also lay back and expose yourself a bit more as you begin to writhe and squirm. One hand is still diligently circling your clit as he works his two middle fingers into you, slamming into that perfect spot inside you over and over and over again. You get louder and more frantic as the second orgasm hits you. Your head falls back on Nanamis chest as you groan his name. 

"Uuuuh Fuck! Feels so good Kento, soo good, so good, s' good, s' good, s' gud." You mumble and moan to him. Your second orgasm hits you full force and the pleasure doesn't stop or slow down, in fact it only gets more intense. He doesn't even slow down despite you're kicking legs and bucking hips.

Nanami eventually brings you to a third orgasm, now things really start to feel sensitive and your whines and cries of overstimulation get louder but the man doesn't tire. He keeps going, mumbling things like "Cmon, cmon Love." And "You can do it Darling". 

Before you know it the fourth wave hits you like a train, this is where you get frantically desperate as you realize he isnt even slowing down. You're now actively trying to get out of his iron hold, trying to close your legs just a little but his strong thighs keep you open for him. You're squirming and struggling and crying out.

"Wait wait wait wait!".

Your pussy is so raw and sensitive, you almost beg him to slow down but the man is going even stronger now. He's more precise with his movements, touching all the right spots with just the right amount of force to make you weep. 

"Wait Ken! It's sensitive, stoooop stopstopstop!" You hands go to his to try and make him slow down a little but Nanami isn't having any of that. You set out a goal for yourself and clear rules. He is going to make sure you reach your goals like the good partner he is.

He cages your arms against your chest with one arm hugged around you while the other still goes at your clit, rubbing frantic but deliberate circles into the pink flesh with his callous palm. The wet slick sounds of your pussy being bullied by the man you love are drowned out by the sounds coming from your mouth.

You're screaming now, legs shaking and kicking, not nearly strong enough to budge against Nanami's thick thighs forcing them wide open. Your entire body begins convulsing and spasming, you swear you feel like you're going to pee but you don't even have the mind to be concerned about that. You can only scream an intelligible jumble of pleas at this point as your nails dig into his arm. 

"Cmon Honey, just one more f'me, your doing so well."

The praise makes you go even dumber as you're quickly brought to the end of your rope. The last strand snaps and a tidel wave of violent hot pleasure comes crashing down on your entire being. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your screams turn to silent hiccups and overwhelmed chokes.

Your body convulses violently and your back arches off Nanamis chest as he holds you tightly to his chest. It's by far the most intense orgasm of your life and you don't even register the jet of clear liquid shooting out from you untill you hear Nanamis loud groan at the sight.

"There you go, that's my girl."

You're brought back to earth and let out a long groan as Nanami presses up on the hood of your clit to force more squirt out of you, the feeling is even more euphoric than you thought it could ever be. 

Nanami pats your pussy, making sure he gets every last drop out as your wetness trickles down your pussy and ass onto the towel Nanami set down, which was definitely not enough to keep the bed dry. You drop your body completely limp onto Nanamis chest as you both catch your breath.

Nanami releases your arms and your hand immediately goes to cup your swollen, abused pussy with a whine. Nanami chuckles and runs his hands down your back and around your waist, soothing you, bringing you down gently while mumbling little praises. You curl up on top of him and dig your face into his neck with another small whine. 

"Love you s'much." You mumble into his hot skin. He chuckles at you once again. 

"I love you too, Baby."

-★

[neil-gaiman]

hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

[slayfics]

Late night texting with Eijiro.

Warnings: Eijiro aged up | NSFW themes

Eijiro tossed and turned in bed unable to drift to sleep with the memories of today's spar plaguing his mind. He had been rougher with you than he intended to today and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Giving in to his worry Eijiro grabbed his phone and decided to message you.

Hey, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about today's spar. I didn't intend to be so rough. I hope you're alright.

You responded to him almost right away,

Kirishima it's late you should be asleep!

I couldn't help it! I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.

I'm fine, no need to worry. Look, it isn't even that bad.

You texted and sent over a picture of your injuries from the spar. Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as his eyes focused on the image.

You were lying in bed and had pulled your shirt up to show the injuries to your abdomen left from the spar.

He knew you were just trying to ease his mind by showing him the injuries weren't anything to worry about, but he couldn't help his mouth from falling open and his cheeks warmed by an excited blush.

The image showcased your body so perfectly lying delicately in bed. Eijiro couldn't look away from it as badly as he wanted to. This isn't manly at all. He thought as he found himself excited by a picture of your bruised body. Even still knowing it was wrong, his grip tightened on his phone and his heart rate increased the longer he stared.

Just as his hormones shot him nefarious thoughts causing his member to enlarge, you messaged him again.

Hello? You fall asleep on me Kiri?

Fuck, he typed out a response fast.

I'm still up! I guess it's not too bad, but I'm still sorry!

Stop apologizing! Besides, I got you pretty good too right?

Yeah, you did! You did amazing today!

Alright, let's see it then!

Eijiro felt himself freeze for a second time tonight. You- You wanted a picture of him? Eijiro shook all crude thoughts out of his mind. Don't be a perv, he told himself. You were just wanting to make sure his injuries weren't bad.

Eijiro must have been contemplating the meaning of your request for longer than he thought because you texted him again.

Unless you feel uncomfortable then it's totally fine you don't have to!

No no, it's fine! Give me a second!

Eijiro jumped out of bed panicking. You wanted a picture of him! He looked around his room and clumsily stumbled into the restroom deciding that was the best place to do it.

Ok ok, you can do this, he thought trying to hype himself up. Besides he is usually shirtless in his hero costume right? But for some reason, this felt so different. Eijiro struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he ripped off his shirt and nervously took selfies in front of the mirror.

What the hell am I doing, he second-guessed himself as he scrolled through the pictures he took deciding on the best one. Finally settling on one he nervously pressed the send button.

Your response came in minutes but felt like ages as he shakingly waited. Did he show too much skin, he wondered? He hoped his picture didn't look too suggestive. But you asked for one right? So it's fine, he thought, trying to ease himself.

Eijiro's eyes snapped to his phone as soon as it buzzed with a response from you.

Damn.

Was all your message said.

Damn, what?! He thought, running his hands over his face. Maybe you meant his injuries? Of course, right? That is what you two were talking about.

Yeah, you got me pretty good, but don't worry I'm alright!

He responded, commenting on the darkened bruises on his own abdomen that you had given him.

Not the injuries silly. You. You look good.

Eijiro's face burnt red hot reading your message. Do you really think he looked good? Was that the real reason you had asked him for a picture? Were the injuries just an excuse to ask, he wondered.

You look good too.

He typed and sent before thinking, panic caused him to quickly send a follow-up text.

Oh man, that sounded so pervy I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be weird or anything!

However, you didn't respond to Eijiro with a text but with another picture instead. This one was more provocative than the last showcasing even more of your body.

Eijiro suddenly felt his sweats become tighter as his excitement grew at the revelation that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted him to look at you with lustful eyes.

Yet again, Eijiro found himself staring too long causing you to send him a follow-up text.

Don't be rude, send one back.

Eijiro dabbed at the blood beginning to leak from his nose, as he realized: this was going to be a long night.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

[sassysnowperson]

How Not to Read Terry Pratchett's Discworld Novels

With the very exciting fantasy books poll bracket going on Discworld and how to read it is in the zeitgeist again. I figured I would take a crack at adding to this important topic with a guide drawn from my own chaotic mess of a reading journey:

Learn that Terry Pratchett is a fantasy author that several people whose reading taste you admire enjoy. He apparently blends comedy, good plotting, and a world that is both grounded and satirical and you're a big fan of all those things.

Fabulous! Decide to read some of his work.

Go to your local library. Love a good library. You're new to the area, so you're also exploring the library for the first time, too.

You have found Terry Pratchett! Points to you! Pull a book off the shelf at random. It's called The Dark Side of the Sun.

Start reading. Realize that this feels more like sci-fi than fantasy. Sigh in smug superiority about people who get the two confused.

Realize about halfway through that this is not, in fact, a Discworld book.

Nobody warned you the guy wrote other things!

It's still good, tho. Maybe a little rough but this was an older book and the author clearly has potential. Let's try again.

Review his works. The vast majority are Discworld. You are highly unlikely to grab another non-Discworld book. Go back to the Terry Pratchett section of the library.

Oh hey he wrote a book with Neil Gaiman! You've hears of that guy!

Grab Good Omens off the shelf.

Take it home, realize, much sooner, that this is also not a Discworld book. Still enjoy yourself thoroughly. You should read more of this Gaiman dude, too.

But okay. For real this time. Go back to the library and don't leave without *CONFIRMING* you have a Discworld book this time.

Grab a book. Look at the cover. Read the back Discworld! Ha HA! You've done it!

It's called Thud.

You are utterly gripped by a story of a man wrestling with himself, his growing child, the political tensions of a city and extremism that echoes reality beautifully while still being entirely true to itself. It's a story of responsibility and love and building communities and Fantasy Chess. You are driven nearly to tears by the sentence *WHERE IS MY COW?*

You emerge from the book fundamentally changed as a person, and finally understanding what all the fuss is about. You are now a Terry Pratchett reader for life.

You realize Thud was in the middle of a series. That was a part of another series. That explains why there was a feeling that you were supposed to know some of these people already.

You finally find one of those flowcharts and figure out a more sensible reading order.

I always sort of laugh when people ask where to start reading Discworld, because Thud would be first on absolutely nobody's sensible Terry Pratchett reading order. I'm still tempted to recommend it though!

(My actual advice: Going Postal if you love con men being stuck doing the right thing, Wee Free Men if you like YA and smart angry girls owning their own power, Guards! Guards! *and* Men at Arms if you like crime shows with heart and are okay giving earlier work a try (the quality gets better and better, but I think it needs at least two books to get you into it), and Monstrous Regiment if you like gender and queer feelings, anti-war books told in the middle of a war, and/or would prefer a stand alone novel...and, you know, Thud if you want a great read and don't mind some chaos.)

[alicewritez]

Gossip - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1329

summary: you’re a new recruit at the BAU and a firm favourite of Hotch, which has not gone unnoticed by the team. unbeknownst to the team, you and Aaron are in a relationship and are holding another secret; there’s more to what than meets the eye.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: implied age gap, mentions of student-teacher dynamic, brief mention of pregnancy at the end but nothing too descriptive. it’s just a bit of fun/fluff. feel free to send requests of any criminal minds character you’d like 🩷

You leave Aaron's office after he briefed you on your tasks for the day; still in the probationary period. You're a newly hired profiler and a very clear favourite of Aaron's. You were surprised to hear that everyone thinks of him as a bit of a grump - he's a soft, gentle and kind man underneath the hard and stern exterior.

As you leave his office, everyone turns to look at you and you're flooded with questions. Are you two secretly related? Why does he like you so much? What is going on between the pair of you?

But truthfully, you didn't know yourself, you were just as clueless as the rest of the team. Sure, you could definitely say you harboured a crush for the man, but he had made no attempt to reciprocate those feelings. Not that he really knew about yours anyway.

Derek gives you a gentle nudge, grinning widely as his eyes glisten with mischief and he surprised a laugh. "So, you and Hotch are close?"

You shrug as you sit down at your desk. "I don't know, I suppose so..". Morgan raises an eyebrow at your nonchalant response. "You don't know?"

Penelope chimes in as she weaves her way back through the desks to get to her office. "It's so obvious. You two are clearly close! You're also, like, half his age. How do you know each other?"

You set your files on your desk. "He was one of my teachers back at the FBI Academy."

Both Derek and Penelope's eyes widen at the revelation, not imagining it could have been something as simple as that. David chuckles from his office before moving to stand against the doorframe with his arms folded. "So you're the fresh-faced prodigy we've all been hearing about."

David's smile widens. He knows you're exactly the prodigy the FBI has been boasting about for months. "But it's true, isn't it? You got your Ph.D. at nineteen and you're the youngest person to join the BAU. You were also the youngest to graduate the FBI Academy."

You suck in a breath, "well, you've certainly done your research.. but I only graduated thanks to Hotch..". Derek leans forward, his smile growing wider. "'Hotch', huh? He really is a softie for you, isn't he?"

You furrow your brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we've all noticed that he's much tamer around you." Penelope chimes in again, her voice full of excitement. "Yes! Much softer, too! I've never seen him smile so often until you joined."

"I think you're reading too much into this. He's probably just being nice because I'm new." You wave them off, making a start on the files piled in your desk.

Spencer, the youngest besides you, looks at you skeptically. Sometimes he could be too smart for his own good. "You're not just any new agent, though. You're a brilliant one. You're smart, talented, gifted, and young. And you're a favourite of our unit chief. Who also happens to be a grumpy, intense man who can be hard to impress. I agree with Derek and Penelope, there must be more to the story."

"Well there really isn't." You sigh as you start writing some notes up. Each member look slightly skeptical at your response, but decide to drop the subject for now, seeing how you wanted to just get on with your work. Once you were done with your notes and reports, you excuse yourself to Hotch’s office, knocking gently on the door.

A few seconds pass before you hear his voice call out. “Come in.”

You slowly step inside and close the door behind you, files in hand. Hotch looks up as he hears the door open and close, looking up at you with a small smile. “Finished with your reports already? Impressive, as always.”

“Yeah but,” you pause, “that’s not the reason I’m here.” Hotch raises an eyebrow as he sets down his pen, giving you his full attention. “Then what is it?”

“The team are figuring it out.” You fiddle with the corners of the files in your hand, while Hotch’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Figured it out? Figured what out?”

“Stop playing dumb Aaron… about us..”

Hotch pauses for a moment at your use of his first name, then a sigh escapes his lips before he rubs a hand over his forehead. “I suppose they’re all talking about it, then.”

“Talk of the office yeah.” You sit down, dropping the files onto his desk with a small thud. “I suppose they were bound to find out we were together sooner or later but, I didn’t think it would be this quick.”

Hotch chuckles softly, his eyes focusing on you. Seeing your worried expression, he stands and walks around the desk to stand in front of you. He takes your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “They’re just being nosey. They’ll get over it and move onto the next bit of gossip soon.”

You sigh, squeezing his hand. “I hope so.” He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, the gesture affectionate and soothing. He knows you don’t like being the constant topic of office gossip. “Hey, look at me.” He tilts your head up gently so that you’re looking directly into his eyes.

You look into his eyes, melting under his touch. He gazes into your eyes and over your face, his expression full of affection. He lifts a hand and tenderly strokes your cheek, his touch sending chills down your spine. “No matter what the others think or say, none of it matters. I chose you. I’ll always choose you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you whisper, “I love you.”

He smiles at your soft admission, his heart swelling with love and affection. He pulls you closer, his arms encircling your waist. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You smile giddily, your arms wrapping around his torso. “You’re being very bold doing this in the office.”

He chuckles, his arms holding you close to him. Despite the risk of someone walking in on the two of you at any moment, he’s too lost in the moment to care. “Can you blame me? It’s my way of showing the others who you belong to.”

You smile softly up at him. “I think we should give them something else to gossip about.” He grins gown at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

You pull away from him, bringing your hands to rest on your stomach. “We tell them about this.” You and Aaron had found out weeks ago, but chose to keep it quiet for now, not wanting too many to be involved just yet. It was nice that just you and Aaron knew.

His smile widens at your words. He follows the movement of your hands, placing a gentle hand over yours on your stomach. “You think it’s time?”

“We can’t hide it forever.. however much we may want to.” You respond, deep down wanting to keep it to you and Aaron for a while longer, but also knowing the team deserved to know.

He nods, his eyes fixed on the spot where his hand is resting on your stomach. He can’t help but smile wider. “You’re right. But are you ready for all the questions and comments we’re going to get?”

“No, but.. it was all going to come out eventually..”

He nods in agreement, his hand gently caressing your stomach after pulling your hands away. “You’re right. You know, you’re the bravest and most brilliant person I know. Nothing can stop us.” He drops his head down and plants a tender kiss on your forehead, then on your cheek before finally capturing your lips in a loving kiss.

Little did either of you know, the team had all been listening in from outside his office door, hearing every word. But they wouldn’t say anything, they’d let you and Aaron go to them first.

[auggieblogs]

Secret Santa | f1 grid Instagram au

f1 grid x driver! reader

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ doing their first secret santa segment with the grid

Author's note: Hello, loves. Hope you all are doing good. Now that the Secret Santa video is out I can finally upload this fic. This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, I was expecting it to be better but that's okay. I'm going to serve with my next fic, promise. Happy reading, everyone:))

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The winter air was filled with festive cheer as the Formula 1 paddock prepared for its annual Secret Santa exchange. As a rookie, it was your first time participating in this heartwarming tradition and you were excited, to say the least. The camera crew followed you, capturing every moment leading up to the big reveal of your Christmas gift.

The media team had already hinted that your gift was something extraordinary, a collective effort from the entire grid. The box was larger than expected, and you could feel the curiosity building up.

Lifting the lid, you were met with an array of dog toys, dog clothes, and even some dog food. A chuckle escaped your lips as you examined the peculiar assortment. "Interesting," you remarked, holding up a tiny doggie shirt to the camera. "I doubt that's going to fit me, but I really appreciate the thought, everyone."

Laughter echoed around you, and you took the lighthearted gift in stride, knowing the Secret Santa segment was known for its humorous nature.

Behind the scenes, someone from the camera crew spoke up, letting you know that this was only half of your present. Perplexed, you turned toward the camera, curiosity etched across your face. Then, from behind you, emerged a crew member carrying a small, fluffy golden retriever puppy in his arms.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, and a hushed "no, no, no" escaped your lips as you connected the dots. The reality sunk in, and you moved back, your hand covering your mouth in sheer disbelief. "Say sike right now," you pleaded, almost unable to comprehend what was in front of you. The response was a firm denial, confirming that the puppy was indeed your Secret Santa gift from the entire grid.

You gingerly accepted the puppy into your arms, cradling it close to your chest. "Oh, you're so small," you cooed, a mixture of laughter and happy tears streaming down your face. The puppy reciprocated with wet kisses, and you couldn't help but snuggle into the warmth of this unexpected gift.

As you revel in the joy of the moment, a voice from behind the camera interrupted, "Do you like your gift?" You nodded vigorously, still cradling the puppy in your arms. "I love him so, so much," you replied, sniffling.

Finally, you noticed a note nestled among the dog toys. With the puppy still in your arms, you delicately unfolded the note, "Happy Christmas, Y/N. You are collectively everyone's favourite on the grid. Hope you like the puppy, he's just like you," the note read and was signed by all the drivers.

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked into the camera. "Thank you, everyone. I love all of you. This is the best Christmas ever." You lifted the puppy so that he could face the camera too, and the collective "awws" echoed around the paddock.

The person behind the camera couldn't resist asking, "What are you going to name him?" You pondered for a moment before deciding, "He looks like a Lenny, no?"

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

yourusername

liked by f1, landonorris and 287,120 others

yourusername Lenny SnoopDawg Y/L in da house😎

comments:

username lmao he's so silly

username kissies on da face!!!!

username can't believe the drivers gifted a golden retriever, an actual golden retriever smh

landonorris I CALL GODFATHER

charles_leclerc Uh back the fuck up. I am the godfather

landonorris You didn't call it though, snoozers losers😘

logansargeant Sorry to break it to you guys but Y/N said her favourite gets to be the godfather, so it's actually me

oscarpiastri Mate, do you ever get tired of being wrong? I'm obviously her favourite

landonorris sources: trust me bro

carlossainz55 I just feel like someone who's actually experienced with dogs should get to be the godfather

mickschumacher So you mean, me? Awh Carlos, thank you

carlossainz55 No.

landonorris I'm real experienced with dogs

yourusername yes, we all remember Uno

albon_pets not to be bias or anything but @alex_albon is great with pets

charles_leclerc That is in fact very bias

albon_pets we are not talking to you dude😠

maxverstappen1 Can I be the father?

logansargeant PAUSE

georgerussell63 Hold up, HOLD THE FUCK UP

yourusername I-is that a flirtation?????

username what the dog doin

username bet lenny is a better driver than me

f1 You should never let your dog drive a car. Soon they'll get better than you and start competing in formula 1😟

username LMAOOO ADMIN PLEASEEEEE

username happened to my buddy eric once

roscoelovescoco IS THAT WHY I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE ANYMORE?

oscarpiastri that's my car he's driving btw

username Lenny is the goddest boy☹️

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The guys and Nat pull through with something big for your baby shower. Bradley can't get enough of your body, and then he gets the biggest surprise of all.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral sex, adult language, lactation kink, pregnancy topics

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"I told you this would be a shitstorm," Bradley muttered quietly before taking a sip of his mimosa. Nat did her best to decorate the Hard Deck for the baby shower, and she even wore a dress for the occasion. But most of the attendees were the guys who decided to show up in essentially their gym clothes. In fact, the only one who looked halfway decent was Jake, probably because Cat told him what to wear.

"I don't mind this shitstorm," you told him, kissing his cheek as you picked up your orange juice. Jimmy was bartending since Penny was technically a shower guest, and he kept filling up your juice and making sure you were eating the snacks. Next time Bradley saw him on a regular night, he'd make sure to leave a big tip.

"What the hell?" Bradley groaned as Javy arrived and dropped another case of beer off on the gift table. "Even I know that pregnant women can't have alcohol. What in the actual hell is wrong with these people?"

You shot a glare in his direction before you stepped away to hug Javy. You had on another one of those bodycon dresses, and Bradley knew for a fact you weren't wearing any underwear. Not a single thread of it. Just that sexy, stretchy pink dress squeezing your curves like he wanted to be doing. Javy's hand slid a little low on your back for his liking, and he raised one unamused eyebrow before you stepped away.

God, he was so fucking cranky today. He still maintained that Valentine's Day was stupid, because he loved you every day, all the time. Last year he took you to that weird hotel with the hot sauce vending machine, which was fun, but he didn't need a special occasion to do anything. Having Rose's shower on the holiday should have given it more meaning, but he was irritable. 

He knew this day would come toward the end of your pregnancy, but last night, you fell asleep while he was going down on you. And this morning when you woke up, you didn't say a word about it. Like you'd completely forgotten. Then you put on that pink dress and made yourself look all cute for the baby shower, but he could tell you were tired. The exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks after the trip to Mexico, just when Bradley became accustomed to having sex multiple times per day. Just when you were more glowing than ever.

"Bradshaw," Jake drawled, the sound alone grating on Bradley's nerves. "Did someone piss in your mimosa?"

The stupid smirk on his face made Bradley roll his eyes. "There are two dozen people here, and I'm your best option for someone to annoy?"

Jake laughed merrily in response. "Oh, Rooster. You're always going to be my top pick. Your reactions alone are priceless. Don't tell me you've got cold feet about the baby? You can't unfuck Angel. You know that, right?"

"Jesus, you're annoying," he muttered under his breath. "It has nothing to do with that." But he kind of wanted to pout. Or get a blowjob from you. That would probably make it better. "I'm excited for the baby. Obviously."

Jake shook his head. "Then may I suggest you put a smile on your face before you upset your wife? Let her have a good day. Also, she looks hot pregnant."

"Why are you even looking at her?" he mumbled before he walked over to you. It wasn't your fault that you were exhausted and achy with delectable tits. It wasn't your fault that you fell asleep last night, even though you could have definitely held on for five more minutes so he wasn't second guessing himself now. 

"Hey," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his chin rest on your shoulder. "Having fun?" he asked as the final few guests arrived. Another case of beer and a bottle of champagne ended up with the rest of the gifts when Reuben walked in. "What is wrong with these men?"

Your laughter was light as you said, "I think it's kind of charming how clueless they are. I'm not sure why we even bothered to make a gift registry. Also, can you just tell me why you're pouting, Roo?"

He shrugged against your back as he ran his palm slowly up and down your belly, hoping to feel the Nugget kick. She seemed to be running out of room in there at this point, and the kicks were harder to feel. And maybe that was part of it, too. He was used to not only your horny ass on him 24/7, but he was used to his daughter greeting him when he talked to her.

"Does this have anything to do with me falling asleep while you were giving me head?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "Sweetheart, do you really have to announce it to the whole place? If it wasn't any good, then it wasn't any good, but you know I'll try to make it up to you later."

"Stop it," you said with another laugh as you turned to face him. You were too beautiful. All he wanted to do was make you happy. "I've been trying to think of a way to make it up to you."

"I wasn't even sure you remembered falling asleep like that," he whispered.

You ran our hand down along his cheek as your belly bumped against his abs. "I'm sorry, Bradley. I couldn't stay awake for another second last night. Rose is requiring a lot more sleep now. I think we need to mess around earlier in the day. Oh! Maybe we can mess around in one of the Broncos this afternoon! You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," he replied, unable to keep a smile from his lips. "I'd like that."

You kissed his lips softly and ran your thumb along his mustache, leaving him wanting more. "As soon as this shitshow is over, I'm all yours."

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

"Thanks," you told Reuben as you patted the case of beer he bought for you. "So thoughtful."

"Oh, there's a gift card taped on the side, too," he told you with a smile. And sure enough, when you turned it around to look, you found it. A gift card to the liquor mart in Coronado.

"Thank you so much," you told him with a smile as you tried to figure out why everyone brought so much alcohol. "Just out of curiosity, why do you think I need this much beer and fifty dollars worth of booze?"

The guys all burst out laughing. "Because you have to live with Rooster!" Javy shouted, earning a swift middle finger from your husband. Then you started laughing, and even Nat, who looked fed up with all of them, had to hide her smile.

"We were wondering when you were going to ask," Jake said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another gift card. "This is from us. For real this time. Congratulations."

He placed it in your hand, and tears filled your vision. Javy, Mickey, Reuben and Jake had all scribbled their names on the paper envelope, and someone had written Bob's on there even though he was still deployed. "It's for Amazon, for a thousand dollars," you whispered, afraid you were going to start actively crying.

"We heard diapers are expensive," Reuben said as he shoved chips and spinach dip into his mouth.

"We heard babies are expensive," Javy added.

"Babies are definitely expensive," Cat called out from the other side of the bar.

Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you buried your face in his chest as he said, "I'm not going to apologize for flipping you off, because I'm sure you deserved it for something, but thank you."

After a few deep breaths, inhaling the comforting scent of your husband, you looked up at everyone and said a very watery, "Thank you."

There was another card from Maria and Cam attached to a high chair, and Cat picked out a onesie that said Future Aviator. Maverick and Penny bought every bath accessory a baby could ever need, and then you were left with an enormous gift bag that Mickey was handing off with a bright smile on his face. 

"You got us something else?" you asked, bewildered since he already contributed to the hefty gift card. But when you looked inside, everything was blue. Blue bibs and outfits and crib sheets. Blue everything.

"We're having a girl," Bradley told him with a furrowed brow.

"What?" Mickey asked as he turned to look at Nat. "You said they were having a boy!"

She scoffed. "I never said that."

"You said the baby's name is Ambrose!"

Nat was rubbing her temples as she looked up at the ceiling. "I said the baby's name is Rose. It's a girl."

"Ohhhh. That's why we got Rooster a box of pink cigars," Mickey said, nodding as if that made sense as he handed you a gift receipt.

"You just ruined the last surprise," Javy complained, hitting Mickey on the back of the head with a cigar box before giving it to Bradley. "Save some of those for next time we go golfing."

You watched your husband hug everyone in turn as he held onto the cigars and the gift card. And you didn't even mind that you'd probably need to exchange most of the stuff Mickey picked out. Everything was actually pretty perfect. It was chaotic, for sure. The guys ate all of the elaborate hors d'oeuvres that Nat picked out like it was a bag of Doritos, and you started crying again when Cam and Maria kissed your cheeks at the same time. But nothing prepared you for what Natasha said when you and Bradley insisted on helping her clean up at the end.

"I didn't really get anything for Rose, because I don't know what she likes yet. But I wanted to make everything easier for you both, so expect a ton of diapers and wipes to be delivered to your house this week." She pulled two wrapped boxes out from behind the bar as she said, "And these are for you."

"Nat," Bradley said, trying to push the boxes away. "You weren't supposed to get us anything at all. You threw us a fucking baby shower! It's too much!"

You watched her press her lips together for a few seconds before she whispered, "You're my best friend, Soul Sister. I never imagined I would ever see you as happy as you are now. Just take the fucking gifts. They're personalized, so I can't return them."

Bradley gave your hip a little squeeze before handing you the boxes, and then he pulled Nat in for a hug which lasted all of three seconds before she shook her head. "God, you're the worst. Just open them," she muttered, trying to pretend like she wasn't crying.

Your emotions were all over the place. You were happy and excited and horny and everything all at once. And you loved Natasha, but you weren't expecting her to pick out something so simple yet so perfectly beautiful. You unwrapped your box while Bradley opened his, and then you were both holding up luxuriously fluffy white cotton robes. Across the back of yours was stitched Rose's Mom in beautiful rose colored thread, and there was a rose embroidered on the front in the same color. Bradley's was the same but larger with Rose's Dad on the back. You slipped it on over your pink dress and did a little spin.

"This is beautiful," you whispered while Bradley put his on as well.

When you hugged her, she said, "I don't want either of you looking frumpy while you're taking care of my goddaughter."

While you hadn't given extensive thought to the honorary titles, you knew she would fit the role perfectly. You smiled and nodded. "You're absolutely right."

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

"Nat would be disgusted," Bradley said with a smile as he led you out to your quiet driveway later in the afternoon. The sky was a little dark from the storm clouds moving in, but it was still light enough out that he knew he needed to be cautious. He opened the back door of the blue Bronco and helped you in, and he was careful to help you keep yourself covered as you climbed in wearing nothing but your new robe. He tightened the sash on his, holding the front closed with one hand, and he followed you in.

"Roo," you whispered with a giggle. "I can see your cock."

He closed the door behind him and let the robe fall completely open, and soon you were yanking the sash so you could see all of him. Of course he was already hard and bobbing in excitement. "I'm pretty sure she intended for these to be worn over pajamas or underwear or something."

You just shrugged and straddled his lap, and told him, "I like it this way." You kissed his cheek while he cock was nestled up against your pussy, and he groaned in pleasure. "I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. I've been thinking about this moment all day. Wanting to make it up to you."

He felt a little bad for being so frustrated earlier, and he intended to say so, but then you pulled at the sash of your own robe, and he was treated to the sight of your swollen tits. When you shifted on his lap, they swayed ever so slightly, and he made a feral sound before leaning in to taste them. "Jesus," he moaned as he ran his nose around your breast. "So fucking warm." 

He sucked gently on your nipple while you played with his hair, hoping that the neighbors couldn't see through the line of trees into the Bronco. You tasted as good as you smelled, and he was salivating just knowing your milk would be coming in soon. Soft whimpers escaped you as he nibbled gently before sucking on you again, and you wiggled your hips until his tip was inside you. He slid his hands along the sides of your belly, and you gave him a little clench.

"Just a few more weeks, Daddy," you whispered, taking him deeper as he ran his tongue all over your chest. "Oh, you're such a good Daddy."

"Fuck," he growled, easing you back along the seat and hovering above you. "I thought this was gonna be sweet," he muttered, pistoning his cock into you, making your tits bounce. "But you're too hot."

You were whining his name, hands scrambling around for something to hold on to as he fucked you. "You don't have to be sweet, Roo. I like it rough."

"I know you do," he grunted kissing along your neck and palming your breast as he let you have it a little harder. "You're everything."

Eventually, like clockwork, his steady movements and whispered sentiments had you close. He let his hand cup your clit, his thumb stroking softly as he fucked you with sharp, strong strokes, and his other hand settled on your neck. You came instantly, your back arching, belly rising up to bump him.

"Bradley!" you screamed, and he glanced up to see if anyone was nearby. 

"Shh, Sweetheart," he coaxed, sinking his cock into your spasming pussy over and over until he couldn't take another second. "Oh, God." He pushed himself deep and dipped his thumb between your lips to keep you quieter, and he came and came. His balls were tight as he filled you, letting your body suck everything out of him that he had to give until he was a little dizzy. "Holy hell."

Your lips and tongue worked at his thumb as you lay there beneath him placidly. He kissed your nose and the perfect curve of your cheek before sitting up with his cock still inside you. You looked beautiful with your dainty rooster tattoo and your hard nipples, and when he withdrew slowly, he ran his fingers along your most intimate parts, collecting his cum.

"I hope the robes are machine washable," you whispered as you sat up, letting his cum dribble onto the fabric as you licked at his messy fingers. 

You had his cum on your lips, and your gaze was glued to his as he whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, Baby Girl."

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

Later that week, you were climbing into bed while Bradley was adding to the Nugget Notebook. He was reading softly out loud as he wrote, and you were trying to enjoy yourself, but you didn't feel great.

"Hey, Rosie," he muttered with a smile. "Mommy's belly is looking enormous these days, and that means you'll be here soon. I don't think I've ever been this excited before. Nine months is a long time to build up this anticipation, and I'm ready to meet you. Your nursery is finished. We even had your baby shower the other day. All we're missing now is our little girl."

"That's sweet," you whispered, trying to get your stomach ache under control, but a second later, you jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. "Oh no," you groaned before emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Bradley was pounding across the floor right behind you, and you felt his hands on your back as you threw up even more. "What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing small circles. "What do you need me to do?"

"I don't know," you wailed, wiping sweat from your brow. "I feel awful. It started a few hours ago."

"Shit," he muttered, helping you lay down on the cold, tile floor. "Why didn't you say anything before?" He got to his feet and immediately had the blood pressure cuff on you while you closed your eyes and tried to get your heart rate to calm down. "Your blood pressure is low," he whispered. "This is inconsistent. It's been on the higher side."

Your mind was swirling with information as you tried to sit up, but Bradley was already on his phone. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Dr. Morris. Just lay still, Sweetheart." He rolled a towel up and tucked it under your head while Rose squirmed.

You did as you were told, because you were suddenly so tired, you couldn't think. You started to doze on the floor as Bradley spoke with someone. You only had four more weeks to go, but you felt like this was the beginning of the end. You just wanted to get the rest of this pregnancy over with as soon as possible. As you pulled the towel over your eyes to block out the light, your head started pounding. And when Bradley checked your blood pressure a second time, you heard him sigh.

"It's a lot higher now," he told whomever was on the phone. "Yes... yes... no... okay." A few seconds later, he was laying down next to you with one strong arm wrapped around your body. He kissed your ear and whispered, "They said it could be normal for this late in your pregnancy. The last month can get rough again, but we'll keep an eye on everything. If you don't feel a little bit better by the morning, I'll take you to get checked out."

You swallowed hard. "But you're supposed to be teaching tomorrow. Remember?"

He wanted to try his hand at flight instruction. He'd been talking about it for months. There would be fewer deployments if he thought it was a good fit for him, and Maverick was giving him the opportunity fill in on occasion now for an opening in the future.

"I don't care about that," he replied easily. "Let me get you girls back in bed."

Eventually you fell asleep while he rubbed your back. You could make it a few more weeks. Probably.

You felt a tiny bit better as the days wore on, but you were exhausted and achy. Your feet started to get puffy and swollen, and you could barely make it through a day at work.

"Are you almost ready to come out?" you asked your own belly in early March. 

But Bradley shook his head and got down in his knees in the middle of cooking dinner. "Absolutely not," he whispered. "You stay in there as long as you can, Rosie." He looked up at you with wide, brown eyes. "We're all doing great. Preeclampsia is under control again. You look incredible. I'm holding down the fort. That Nugget needs to stay put."

"I'm so tired," you whined. "My mom keeps saying I need to rest now before she's born, but I can't. I can barely sleep, and I always feel like I'm on the verge of throwing up again. And I'm just so fucking tired, Bradley."

"I know," he whispered, letting his cheek rest on your enormous belly. You were handily the largest pregnant woman you'd ever seen in your life, and you swore you got bigger by the day. "I'm taking care of as much as I can so you don't have to."

You started crying. "I feel disgusting. Everything hurts. My tits feel like they're on fire. My back feels like that time I woke up hanging halfway off the bed when I was drunk after my bachelorette party. My face is broken out, and I'm hungry."

Bradley sent you to the table with a bowl of homemade soup and spent thirty minutes trying to coax you to start your maternity leave early. But what were you supposed to do with your time if you were at home? Worry about the baby? Eat until you gained another ten pounds? Get frustrated that you can't sleep?

"No," you said, shaking your head. "I like going to work. I want to go to work."

He ran his hand along his face and asked, "Are we still doing maternity pictures on Sunday?"

"Yeah," you whispered, annoyed that you had scheduled it so late in your pregnancy, but you wanted to have some photos taken while you were still pregnant for his birthday calendar. He told you ages ago that was something he'd enjoy, and at least your breasts looked pretty nice at the moment. "I need you to meet me at the beach after you're done playing golf."

"There's no way I'm going golfing, Sweetheart."

"You have to. You promised the guys you'd smoke those pink cigars with them. And you'll look adorable in the photos with your cheeks all flushed from your outing."

He rolled his eyes and grouched as he walked away. "We'll see," he mumbled. "We'll just see."

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

Bradley was sipping pink champagne from the bottle and smoking a cigar in the golf cart, and he had to admit you were right for making him come today. You were miserable now. Sometimes when he touched you, he saw you wince. The last time you and he had sex was in the backseat of the blue Bronco a month ago. He kept telling you it was okay, but you cornered him this morning when he was trying to shave around his mustache, and you gave him a blowjob.

He was still thinking about his cock sliding expertly along between your lips when Jake lit up a cigar next to him. "You're almost there old man. More responsibility than you've ever had before."

Bradley grunted in response. "I'm ready. Can't wait to meet her." He couldn't stop thinking about passing along his last name and his mom's name to a new generation. If he never met you, he was sure he'd never be at this point now, but you made everything so exciting for him. "My Nugget."

Jake smirked in response. "Feel free to call me crying a few weeks after she's born when you need a break."

"Okay. Like you're some sort of baby professional," he muttered before taking another sip of champagne. "You weren't around when Jeremiah was a newborn."

"Well, I'm around now," Jake replied with a hard edge to his voice. "And I intend to keep it that way. Been thinking about proposing."

Bradley looked him in the eye and asked, "You think she'll say yes?"

While he looked just as cocky as ever, there was something unsure in his eyes. "How could anyone say no?"

Bradley shrugged in response. "I could say no to you all day long."

"You're not a woman."

"My wife told you no as well."

Jake glared at him before laughing. "Aren't you supposed to be getting photos taken or something? We've got two more holes to finish up."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted in response, ready to get out of here and get back to you. "Javy! Let's go!"

Javy was practicing his swing while smoking his own pink cigar, and that fact that Reuben was filling in with his thirty-four handicap and chugging champagne made Bradley really miss Bob. They all wound along the pathway toward the seventeenth green. Bradley got par on both holes and handily beat the other three, and then he ended up getting changed in his Bronco to head to the beach.

He was supposed to meet you and the photographer who had made both of his dirty Baby Girl calendars at a very specific spot on a very specific beach up near Oceanside, and when he arrived, you were topless.

"Jesus," he moaned, watching you cover your tits with your hands as you spun to face him.

"You're early!" you complained as he glanced along the deserted stretch of sand.

"I don't see the issue," he told you, closing the distance until he could kiss you. His eyes drifted down to your chest as he asked, "What are you doing, Sweetheart? Dirty maternity pictures?"

The photographer snorted as you shook your head. "Don't worry about it, Roo. It's for a special project," you said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He desperately wanted to grab at you, but the two of you weren't alone, and he didn't want to make you wince again.

"I love special projects," he whispered, a little concerned that he might get hard as you dropped your hands and took your top back from the photographer with a thank you.

Then he was subjected to two hours of photos. Two hours of being posed and prodded while sand blew in his face. Two hours of being told he was only allowed to touch you in a specific way.

"Wouldn't it be better to take photos after Rose is here?" he mused when he was finally allowed to just watch you pose alone with your hands on your belly.

"Oh, don't worry about that. We'll have another round of pictures with her, too," you informed him.

"Great."

It was one thing to enjoy pictures of you, but Bradley wasn't a very good photography subject. He got tired of smiling after about three minutes. Honestly, he'd probably smile a lot more with his tiny daughter in his arms at home instead of on the beach where the wind was kicking up.

"We're just about done," the photographer informed him, but he knew what he wanted.

"Can we get a few with the sun setting where we aren't posed at all?" he asked.

You were standing with the waves rolling up around your toes as you asked, "What did you have in mind?"

He reached for you and pulled you close, one big hand coming up to your cheek as he said, "Maybe something like this." Then he kissed you just like he always would, and his other hand found your belly. "I love you," he murmured, and you kissed him harder. Your arms were around his neck like it was your very first kiss, and he couldn't stop smiling. 

He honestly forgot there was anyone else there at all until she said, "These look perfect."

He was still smiling as his forehead came to rest against yours. "Of course they do. I'm with my girls."

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

As the month of March wore on and the days grew hotter again, you were getting more uncomfortable by the hour. Your due date was fast approaching, and you felt like you lived at Dr. Morris's office now. They were constantly taking urine samples and blood samples, and when they finally sent you home on March twentieth with a cotton ball and a bandaid on your arm, you pouted at Bradley as he drove.

"Can we stop and get some ice cream?" you asked. "I was really good during my appointment."

"You were so good, Baby Girl," he crooned playfully, giving your thigh a squeeze. "I'll get you some ice cream."

He stopped at the super secret little ice cream spot near base, and you sat on a bench together with double scoop cones. Bradley's tongue was a major distraction as he licked along his strawberry and raspberry scoops, and you had to try to keep up before your treat melted everywhere. 

When he kissed your cheek, his lips were cold as he said, "You're too slow," before stealing a huge lick from your scoops. "You're dripping onto your shirt."

"No, I'm not," you insisted. You hadn't felt anything dribble onto your outfit, but when you glanced down, there was a damp spot on your shirt. Your brow furrowed, wondering how that could be, and then you gasped. "Oh. Ohhh. Are my nipples leaking?" you asked softly, handing him your cone and trying to discreetly look down your shirt.

"Oh my god," he groaned loudly, ice creams forgotten as he tried to get a peek, too. "Please tell me the answer is yes."

You bit your lip as you pulled your tank top and snug sports bra away from your tender breasts, ready to moan from the pain and pleasurable sensations. "They are," you gasped. When you looked up into his brown eyes, there was ice cream dripping onto both of his hands, and his lips were parted in awe. "Do you want to go home?"

He grunted something unintelligible, and you watched him inhale the rest of his ice cream. The fact that he let you eat something so messy in his Bronco was almost unfathomable, but he buckled you in and sprinted around to the driver's side while you held your cone. His cheeks were bright red in the setting sunlight, and he drove a bit faster than he usually ever did, his knee bobbing in anticipation.

As you licked at your cone and rubbed a hand on your tender belly, you sweetly asked, "What exactly do you want to do when we get home, Roo?"

He glanced over at you several times, pupils blown wide, before he rasped, "I need to taste you."

"Bradley," you moaned, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled into the driveway. "Please. I want you to."

"Fuck," he grunted, shifting into park and running back around to get you. He tossed your cone over his shoulder onto the grass, and he didn't complain when you wrapped your sticky fingers around his neck. He hauled you inside and took a seat on the couch with his legs spread wide and his erection bobbing in his gym shorts. "Show me, please," he begged, and you started to strip off your shirt. When you peeled off your bra as well, his eyes went even wider, and he took you gently by the hips until you were straddling his waist. 

"Jesus Christ," he whispered, eyes darting from your face to your breasts as a small bead of your breast milk dripped from your nipple. His fingers flexed on your hips and he whimpered.

"Go ahead," you coaxed, running your fingers through his hair. You were completely mesmerized by how badly he wanted this, and when he ran his tongue along your nipple before sucking gently, you whined.

He released you with a pop as your aching belly rested against him, and the possessive look in his eyes left you breathless. You guided him closer again with your hand at the back of his head, and this time, he didn't stop. He sucked and laved, lapping up your milk and buried his face in your breasts. You were leaking from both sides now, and he didn't let a single drop go to waste. He ran his nose and his fingers through it, tasting you on his skin as well as your own.

"You're so fucking warm," he whispered reverently. "And sweet. Oh my god, Baby Girl. Oh my god." Then his flat tongue swiped out for another taste. You let him keep going, loving the feel of his mouth and mustache, almost soothing you. By the time you pulled his cock free from his shorts, his tip was bright and angry looking, and after two pumps in your hand, he came all over both of you. Your leggings and his clothing were covered, but he was still lapping at your nipples, cheeks rosy and pupils wide.

"Daddy," you whispered, pulling away as you started to feel a little overstimulated and dizzy. "That was so hot."

He sank back against the couch, looking around like he was surprised to find the mess he just made. "Oh. Fuck. I'm sorry," he whispered, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. "I'll clean you up."

But you were laughing softly. "You got so carried away."

"I know," he groaned. "Your magic tits are killing me."

You whimpered and let him help you stand, and then you took him with you to get a shower. He didn't lick them again, but his hands were right there and his eyes were hazy as he looked you up and down.

"You're obsessed. What are you going to do when I'm no longer pregnant?"

His eyes lit up. "Well, I'll be delighted. Both of my girls will be here. And it's not like I wasn't obsessed with you before you were pregnant."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right." But as you climbed into bed, completely exhausted, you smirked as Bradley wrote a few paragraphs in the Nugget Notebook. You were wearing nursing pads now, but you came up with a little plan for the following day.

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

Bradley left base a little late. He was honestly so thankful that Maverick was giving him an opportunity to help teach the newest batch of aviators to arrive at Top Gun, but it was a lot of extra work that he wasn't used to. He drove home with a folder of things he needed to take a look at, but all he could really think about was your tits. Big, round, warm, perfect.

He hadn't seen you all day, but he blushed every time he thought about how he blew his load everywhere last night. He was also a little afraid he might do it again if you let him loose on your lactating nipples. Jesus, how was he supposed to function now that he knew what you tasted like?

Anxiously, he ran his fingers through his hair. Okay, so he knew he needed it. If you were home already, he'd just ask you nicely if he could get in there before he cooked dinner. And to his delight, he saw your Bronco in the driveway when he drove down the street.

"Excellent," he muttered, trying to waddle up the walkway with a semi erect cock in his khakis. Ah, but you knew him so well. You knew he was going to be a mess all the time now. When he walked inside, you were standing there in the living room topless. He could barely see your lace panties for the size of your belly, but you were smiling as a droplet of your milk formed on your left nipple.

"Hi, Daddy," you greeted playfully, and he took two steps into the room before the look on your face changed from smiley to shocked. "Oh!" you gasped, looking down at your feet and taking a step backwards. "I think... oh my god. I think I just wet myself!"

Bradley's eyes went wide as he dropped everything he was holding. "Sweetheart. I think your water broke."

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

She's coming!!! Rosie!! I'm so damn excited! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

[anothertimdrakestan]

Pinky Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader !Soulmate AU

~ where your birthmark is where you'll first touch your soulmate ~

A pinky finger is an odd place to have a soulmate mark. Most people had full hands, a set of lips marked on their cheek, or a hand print on their hip. Yet yours was just the length of your left hand pinky finger.

No matter, you'd had the habit of locking pinky's with people since you were born. Call it natural habit or a desperation to link fingers with your soulmate, it was your thing.

So when you started your internship at the Bludhaven Police Department Sheriff's office and got finger printed you didn't think anything of it when officer Grayson paused on your last finger.

"This your soulmate mark?" he gestured to your pinky, which was darker than the rest of your skin colour.

"Funny right! Just the pinky. Most people have normal ones! Where's yours? Wait. Is it on your lips?" you glanced up at the officer with a grin as he flushed.

"We all meet our soulmates in strange ways." he mumbled with a smile.

"Truth or dare? Or Suck and Blow? It had to be a party game right?" you leaned in as Officer Grayson pressed your pinky into ink.

"It was more of a greeting, she's not from around here so it was her way of saying hello." he stated, eyes twinkling with a familiar joy. God you wanted that. He continued, "I'll tell you, I know a kid with a pinky mark too. Cant remember which hand though. I'll bring him in soon, though neither of you seem like each other's type." you noticed his brows furrowed thinking about the "kid" he mentioned.

"Bring him in like, a bad guy? Not sure that's my type! I'm just here to learn about forensics!" you giggled. The officer just shook his head and told you to go start reviewing the steps to finger print collection and storage. Sounded super fun and interesting (not).

Turns out there's a lot to learn about crime forensics. By the end of the day you had a backpack full of materials to study on your transit ride back to Gotham. Hiking up fire escapes to the top of your apartment building, you decided to study via the lights from the top of your building. Nothing like the haze of Gotham to comfort you through pages of reading.

"Glad to see you're back." A familiar voice chided from your side.

"C'mon, you're excited to see me!" you grinned into the darkness, willing the shadowy figure to come forward. Like usual, he did.

"Good to see you, Robin." you waved with a teasing smile as he visibly shook his head.

"Can't say the same Y/N. I had more peaceful nights when you weren't here. What's got you up late this time?" he grumbled, keeping his distance as you held up your bunches of papers exclaiming "studying! Always studying."

"And you can't do that from the safety of your apartment?" he questioned. You shook your head no in response. "Need I remind you of the multiple times I've had to throw people off this balcony for you?" he yawned, gesturing to the ledge of the rooftop.

"Aren't I so lucky you're protecting me!" you teased. He wasn't wrong, sketchy people had on more than one occasion lurked on top the Gotham's tallest buildings, but you enjoyed the view and trusted Robin far too much to change your place of comfort.

"Protecting Gotham." he retorted, moving towards the rooftop to jump towards a night full of crime fighting. You never tried to stop him from leaving, you still thought it was insane that he even paused to talk to you, so you just waved and watched as he launched into darkness. Curling back up with your notes you appreciated the blanket of safety his presence had placed on you.

~

"Damian I'm telling you she has the mark on her pinky!" Dick screeched, chasing after Damian who was not willing to hear anything he had to say. "What do I care Grayson? I don't want a soulmate, I'm busy," he retorted, cascading through the batcave to get away from Dick's prying eyes.

"Just let me see! I wanna know!" Dick cried but Damian had already slammed his door closed.

"Word on the street is Dames found a rooftop girl. You didn't hear it from me though." Tim called from the adjacent room. The two were usually stuck on patrol together so it did make sense. But Dick still couldn't believe it.

"Which goddamn rooftop." Dick's voice was a low hum, the determination dripping from his tongue. He had a theory.

~

"Morning Officer Grayson!" you called down the hallways of the BPD office. You'd finally gotten a full night of sleep last night because you had finished studying a couple days ago, free from the piles of work. Your morning glee quickly dissipated when you were promptly handed a stack of papers and binders.

"You're doing great work, so we're moving you up to sample analysis. Lots of reading for ya!" the officer sounded congratulatory as he handed you the piles of paperwork. You couldn't deny, this was what you wanted, but it was definitely more work than you could do in one day. Needless to say, you hoped you'd get to see a familiar bird brain that night.

~

Cozying up on the rooftop you were so deep into the inner-workings of a microscope you hardly noticed the shadowy figure that had appeared across from you.

"Studying again are we?" Robin's snarky voice made you jump, eyes snapping to his face. "Tons of work! Calls for an all nighter, what about you?" you simply replied.

"Patrol." His response was curt but you wanted more this time.

"What after? Tell me- what does a hero do in his free time?" you leaned in with a teasing smile. To your surprise Robin leaned back against the railing and responded "I like to draw." Giving you more of a key into him than you'd ever gotten.

"I'm a terrible artist but I bet you're amazing! Keen eyes and steady hands always make for good art. You should show me sometime! If you want!" you rambled with a grin. You figured it would be an automatic no, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, almost like a smile as he said, "maybe I will." Something blossomed in your chest.

"Well, you're always welcome here! Like, all night. It's brutal." you joked, gesturing at the piles of papers in your lap.

"I may just take you up on that, my brother has been overwhelmingly obnoxious at home. Have a good night." Robin muttered as he left over the rooftop railing once again. You smiled to yourself, he likes to draw and he has a brother? Fascinating.

You were practically asleep in your notes when you felt something bump into your chest. A surprisingly elegant paper airplane. From the shadows you could see Robin sitting across from you, back against the rooftop railing, a notepad and pencil in his arms as he starred up at you.

"What? You were practically snoring." he said matter-of-factly.

"For the record, I do not snore. Also, how'd you make this? It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, delicately holding up the paper airplane to appreciate the little curves of the thick paper.

"I was into origami for a while. It's almost mathematical, very satisfying." his reply was short again, seemingly focused on the sketching at hand. So you fell into silence with him, focusing up on your note taking.

You didn't exactly notice the sun starting to rise. It was hard to see in Gotham, smog and all, but the inkling of light from the hazy sky gave you a clearer picture of the boy wonder then you'd ever gotten.

It felt strange but he was gorgeous. Silky black hair tousled from running his hands through it in between pencil scratches, when he was focused he bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows knit into determination. You appreciated the reds and yellows of his costume, noting the various weapons hitched across his body. But the rest was hidden. Whether behind his domino mask, his suit, or his silence.

"It's rude to stare at a working artist" he grumbled, chin tilting up to show that his eyes were meeting yours.

"You've never stayed this long." you replied breathlessly. Squirming in your chair, knowing that you couldn't get any closer without him running off.

"Your presence isn't, unbearable, for what it's worth." his voice was so low but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "Same to you." you whispered back, letting your tired eyes drift back to your notes which were pretty much done. It was an all nighter after all.

It felt like a few minutes but the billowing light from the rising sun told you it had been longer, and your head was severely drooping into your lap. "Y/n, you need sleep. Go to bed," his voice was warm but stern, enough to get you to lazily collect your papers and stand up with a yawn.

"Well! Thanks for hanging with me!" deliriously you held out your fist, Robin tilted his head to the side in confusion. You chuckled, "it's a fist bump dumbass." And to your surprise he closed the distance between the two of you, and slowly touched his knuckled to yours. His gloves were cold but you were focused on the fact that you were just inches from the boy wonder.

But a few seconds was all you got to realize how much taller he was than you before he melted back into the shadows. You stood stunned for a moment before stumbling back to your apartment, desperate for sleep.

~

"You look like hell kid" Officer Grayson greeted you with a questioning look as you waved him off of you. "Your fault for giving me hours of reading buddy." He grinned glancing down at the now filled notebook you'd brought to work. "You actually look dead kid, on lunch break we'll grab coffee," you rolled your eyes at his promise but knew you needed the caffeine.

Getting to know Officer Grayson, Dick, was surprisingly rewarding. He had years of experience and hundreds of stories that had you folded over from laughter. But there was something you were begging to learn more about, someone rather.

"Have you worked with Robin much?" your question broke the calm silence. Dick's eyes shone with some sort of pride, "I have, yeah. Good kid. Cold as hell but a damn good hero." and you nodded in reply, although cold wasn't exactly the way you'd describe Robin.

Dick's eyes lit up at something behind you, he shot up out of his cafe chair and said "look what the cat dragged! Glad to see you lil bro!" A loud enough exclamation that you turned around and locked eyes with a boy with jet black hair and piercing green eyes. The boy stood stunned at the door, starring at you and Dick before slowly approaching, eyes trained to yours before Dick pulled him into a hug. Immediately, he pushed himself out of Dick's embrace with a scowl, you couldn't help but grin at the reaction.

"Y/N meet Damian, Dames this is Y/N she's an intern at the office! Damian has classes over here so I figured we'd catch him during our break!" Dick babbled as he forcefully guided Damian into the seat next to him. Damian looked almost stunned, eyes flicking between you and his brother.

You broke Dick's rambling saying "Hi! You're a student too?" and he nodded slowly, glancing between you and Dick. "Studying what?" you tried to guide the conversation but he interrupted:

"You live in the area?"

"Nope, Gotham."

"Oh, me too." was all Damian muttered before his name was called, and he shot up, mumbling a "nice to meet you" and giving Dick another glare. Dick just grinned in response and the two of you soon headed back to the office.

~

"You had no right to do that!" Damian's roar was echoing in the cave that night. He'd just finished throwing almost everything on his person at Dick who was still uncontrollably laughing.

"C'mon Dames, were you just gonna visit your soulmate every once and a while on a rooftop for the rest of your life? Make a move lil bro. You're Bruce's kid you've got to have some game!" Dick teased back before a stray batarang was lobbed towards him.

"I've got it handled." Damian retorted angrily.

"Fine. fine. But blame Tim cuz he's the one who snitched on the rooftop hookups." Dick cooed before ducking out of the room to avoid further assault. Another screech filled the cave.

~

A few nights later, you were perched on the rooftop once again. This time you didn't have nearly enough work, but were hoping a certain distraction would stick around this time.

And he did.

"Hey" his voice was soft, and your head rose from your book to smile into the shadows.

"Hi! Whatcha got?" you noticed the silhouette was holding something.

"Come see." you could hear his chest rumbling. You felt like you were floating towards the thick railing of the rooftop.

And there he was again. Holding a sketchpad.

"You brought drawings!" you cooed, grinning as he inched closer, leather gloves flipping pages as you drank in the beautiful sketches, watercolours, and poems that filled the pages.

"What do you think?" he whispered, you swore warmth was vibrating off of him, just a few inches away from each other.

"They're beautiful" you quietly replied. He flipped another page, and it was a pencil sketch of you half asleep in your studies, on the rooftop. "From the other night!" you giggled, delicately tracing the sketch with your pinky. Robin drew a sharp breath, loud enough that your eyes were drawn up to his domino mask.

"I've got one more sketch to show you. But, I fear you won't like it." his head dropped slightly, his gloved hand toying with the bottom of the paper, as if debating whether or not to flip it.

"I'll be okay! Promise." you nudged his shoulder, holding up your pinky, a true promise, and a dangerous solution to the question making you dizzy standing next to him.

He shook his head, "look first, promise after" to which you nodded, dropping your hand and eyes to the paper.

As the page turned, you couldn't help but gasp. On the last page of the sketchbook, in the most intricate detail, were two hands. Pinky's locked.

"Take your glove off." you shot your gaze back to the hero.

"Wait." he took a step back.

You took one forward, reaching for the glove yourself.

Back again. "Y/N, wait." you froze at your name on his tongue.

"You and I both know what's under my glove, but I'm giving you an out. I've sat here for months thinking about doing this, wanting to do this. But, you deserve someone who doesn't throw their life away, who can be there for you, someone who isn't... isn't me" he gestured to his outfit, stocked with weapons.

"Who can be there for me? You've protected me more than anyone else in my life. Someone who deserves me? I'm not a trophy, I'm, I'm your soulmate."

"I know, but-" he began but you weren't finished:

"All I deserve, is someone who can love me. Can you do that?" you closed the distance, and he didn't back away.

"It's all I've ever done." he whispered. Delicately, you reached for his hand. He let you draw it from his side, holding desperately still as you peeled the glove from his left hand. And there, in the same pattern as yours, stood his mark.

"You promise?" you gave a small smile, holding up your pinky for the final time.

"Always." he closed the distance, locking your hands together as a warmth like you'd never felt spread through your hand, dancing up your arm, and bursting in your chest.

"Oh my god do you feel that?" you asked breathlessly, your right hand touching your chest.

He nodded, letting your hands drop as his right hand tilted your chin up, your eyes once again meeting a mask.

"I never thought I'd ever do this" his voice was soft, drinking in your closeness to him.

"I would've found you" you said with a grin, you had always had the sixth sense that Robin's visits to your study sessions were more than patrol.

He scoffed, "yeah my brother was gonna make sure of it."

"Your brother?" you dug deeper, fighting the itch to reach up for the mask he wore, your heart begging to see his eyes.

You felt him tug his pinky from yours, "I suppose a promise is a promise." he reached up for you, pulling the mask from his face as familiar green eyes met yours.

"Oh. My god." your jaw dropped, fitting the puzzle together.

"I guess the universe decided I was taking too long and put Richard Grayson on job. I must apologize for the coffee shop, I wasn't expecting to see my Gothamite soulmate seated across from my brother, in Bludhaven. " he sighed, eyes twinkling. You laughed in agreement.

"Quite the wingman" you mused.

Damian nodded, closing the distance as he said "don't ever tell him, but I'm thinking he was right all along" before pressing his lips to yours.

~

Weeks later you were far less sleep deprived, still loving your job in Bludhaven. Especially because a certain student was always waiting to pick you up for the ride home.

"Hi Dames!" you strolled up to your now boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek while he locked your pinky in his, the two of you strolling towards the cafe that has become your shared favorite place. Settling down in a booth, you both fell into routine: sketching and studying while enjoying the other's presence.

A crazy few weeks, a huge change to your life, but a good one nonetheless. You had to hand it to-

"I knew you lovebirds would be here!" The bell on the cafe door rang, drawing you and Damian out of your focus. Damian rolled his eyes with a scoff and you gave Dick a wave.

Dick was stroll strutting around, "call me cupid the way I matched you two up!" he crooned.

Damian dryly replied, "Richard we are quite literally soulmates." but the oaf wasn't listening, too busy pretending to shoot you both with an invisible bow "cupid style".

You smiled to yourself, if only Dick knew how grateful you and Damian were to have each other... thank to him.

~~~

A/N: pure fluff for your timeline <3 hope you enjoyed!

[chosok-amo]

‘ I DARE YOU .ᐟ

ryomen sukuna. you want to break up with your boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, so he dares you to say that to his face

beware. nswf! sukuna x reader, slut, whore mentioned, chocked, over-stimulated reader

You nervously leaned against the pantry table in your kitchen. One of your hands rested on your other hand which was curled over your stomach— you bit your nails. Your eyes focused on the flat object on the table in front of you. Many times you put your hand up to take the object but your intention was stopped a second later— you continued like that for a while until you finally decided to make up your mind. With a slight tremor, your finger presses something, producing a ringing sound.

sukuna :

yes, babydoll?

You were silent for a moment when you heard the deep voice of your lover, Ryomen Sukuna. Your guts suddenly shrink and your body fills with adrenaline. You bit your bottom lip and remained silent for a moment. Your head was spinning at what you had been thinking about the last few weeks. You no longer want to be in this toxic relationship. You were tired of fighting with Sukuna, spending your tears crying over him. You're tired of his big ego and his attitude. You're tired of your lover. So you sighed and made up your mind again.

you :

let's break up

Silence for a moment from across there. Your chest was pounding as you waited for a response from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. You only heard Sukuna's heavy breathing before a mocking chuckle was heard. He's always like that, always never taking you seriously. He always chuckles, laughs mockingly and looks at you as if you are the stupidest and funniest person in the world.

sukuna :

say that to my face y/n, I fucking dare you

you :

I'm done with you, I want to break up

"Are you sure?"

You quickly raised your head when you heard Sukuna's voice only to find him standing not far across from you with a cell phone in his left hand pressed to his ear and in the other hand you could see several paper bags with well-known brands. He put his cell phone in the pocket of the trousers he was wearing and stepped closer. You pulled your lips straight as you lowered your phone and placed it on the pantry table. Sukuna was standing across from you— your bodies were blocked by a fairly large pantry table.

As usual, his pink hair was neatly styled, showing off his forehead. Tattoos adorn his handsome face which now looks expressionless. You corrected your posture and stood up straight. Your head is straight ahead looking at your lover confidently— at least try to look confident so that your lover knows that you mean it. But Sukuna can see you like an open book. He can read all your movements as if he had been studying you for decades.

“You know there's no breaking up in this relationship, y/n,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “I can't deal with you any longer, Sukuna. I'm tired of your bullshit,” you say. You looked at him lazily and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Sukuna raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. Slowly he stepped towards you and stopped when he was standing behind you. “If you are tired then take a nap,” he whispered into your ear from behind. His hands held your arms gently but firmly.

His skin touching yours sent a tingle of excitement and you held your breath as the heat from Sukuna's breath hit your bare neck. You gripped the pantry with both hands and closed your eyes as Sukuna pressed his lips to your shoulder. “N-no, I don't want to take a nap, I—” You try to move your body away from Sukuna who has now pushed the front of his body to the back of your body— until you can feel his bulge being pushed against your ass which is only covered in white lace underwear.

Before you had time to move away, Sukuna quickly cupped both of your breasts. You only wear a lilac crop top without a bra. Sukuna's big hands gently squeezed your breasts from under the t-shirt you were wearing. "What do you want baby? Tell me," he whispered in your ear in a low voice. A soft moan came out of your mouth as his two index fingers moved in circles on your protruding nipples. Sukuna knows all too well how that has always been your weakness. Your body leaned against Sukuna's hard-rock chest. With your eyes closed you stammered trying to answer, "I.. I want to- Ah!" You let out a small scream when Sukuna harshly pinched your nipple.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

You could feel him smirk at his tone. He sounded like he really enjoyed what he was doing to you. Sukuna's hands wildly played with your breasts and nipples— squeezing and pinching them. "Tell me, sweetheart. What do you want? I'm all ears," he teased as he licked behind your ear which succeeded in making your legs weaken and a delicious moan escaped your mouth. Hearing this, Sukuna grinned even more happily. You bit your bottom lip in hopes of holding back the moan that was forcing its way out. You moaned when Sukuna's hand slowly came down and pressed his finger firmly on your clitoris which was starting to swell.

"Already wet for me? You're such a slut, y/n, I barely touched you," he said. His long middle finger trailed across your folds, running them up and down. Sukuna's one hand was busy playing with your breasts while the other was busy with your pussy. You threw your head back, onto Sukuna's shoulder as he in gentle, sensual circular movements touched your clitoris, you felt very sensitive to his touch at the moment. Makes you unable to properly digest what is happening and you almost no longer remember what you said to your previous lover.

"S-sukuna.."

"Yes, my lady?"

Sukuna kissed your shoulders and neck alternately. He bites your neck in small pieces, sucks, and licks it until he leaves kiss marks everywhere. You know what he's doing— marking you, so you don't forget who you belong to. "Stop.. ah- Sukuna.. I want to—ah!" Sukuna didn't let you finish what you wanted to say as he quickly moved his finger on your pussy. Your body is filled with pleasures that only your boyfriend can give you.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he said, teasing you.

"I want to break up with you, for fuck sake!"

You took a sharp breath and tried to pull Sukuna's hand away from you. But he quickly took both of your hands— grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and pushed you against the pantry table until your chest was pressed against the cold surface. "Fuck, y/n. You never understand, do you?" he asked, now starting to look a little annoyed. He held your hands behind your back- trapping you so you couldn't move. "Guess I need to remind you who you belong to now, y/n. I hope this time it gets through that pretty little head of yours," he said. So with one pull Sukuna removed your panties and ruined them.

"Ah!"

Sukuna slapped your ass hard, leaving redness there. You groaned in pain but Sukuna knew very well that you were enjoying it. He touched your thigh which was soaked with your own fluids. “Fuck, y/n..” he whispered to himself as he felt how wet you were. One of his free hands squeezed his penis which was now very hard from outside his trousers. Sukuna let out a sigh of pleasure before he pulled your hair until your head fell back. He inserted two fingers into your mouth from behind. “Suck,” he commands which you spontaneously go down on. You sucked his long finger, playing with your tongue there. "Such a whore, aren't you, my lady?" He said when he felt the warmth of your dirty mouth on his fingers.

Sukuna withdrew his fingers, placed one hand on your back and without further ado he inserted both fingers into your pussy, making you moan. His fingers slide in and out of your pussy, your supple walls hugging Sukuna's fingers. “S-sukuna.. please,” you moaned as you felt his fingers slowly stop moving. "What is it, y/n?" he asked. You swallowed hard, no longer concerned with your common sense, you just wanted to feel the pleasure your lover gave you. “I want to cum..” you whined pathetically.

“I can't hear you, y/n,” Sukuna said.

“Please, baby.. I want to cum, I want to feel your cock inside me,—” you cried. You feel like you can't take it anymore. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own and Sukuna's touch seemed to be a remote control. Sukuna chuckled evilly and he took his fingers out of your pussy. He eagerly undid the belt he was wearing before taking off his trousers and boxers alternately. You groaned when you felt Sukuna's long, thick, hardened cock slap against your ass.

“Fuck y/n! feel so good, always tight for me,” Sukuna moans while throwing his head back. Your body arches because of the pleasure as Sukuna inches by inches pushes himself inside you. Both of his large hands gripped your hips as your gummy wall hugged his long, thick-veined cock, sucking him to go further until the head touched your womb. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! your cunt hugs me so well, baby. Oh, god!” He keeps pushing until he's bottomed out.

“N-no, Sukuna— Ah.. too big, I-I can't—” Your hands moved behind you trying to push away Sukuna's body. You felt full— your body felt full of Sukuna's big cock. Sukuna shook his head and held your hand so you couldn't push him away. “Shh baby, don't say that, I know you can take me,” He shot gently. He pulled your body until your back touched his chest. One hand touched your tummy and the other grabbed your chin, guiding your face to look back. He pressed his lips to yours.

Passionately, he kissed you. He kissed your bottom lip, occasionally biting it there. Slowly he moves his hips in and out of you. He kissed your lips making your moans echo in his mouth, and vice versa with Sukuna. He bit your bottom lip again and pulled it between his teeth before kissing you again—this time with his tongue. He kissed you until you were out of breath and pulled your face away from him. A string of saliva connected between your tongue and his as both your mouths opened— trying to catch your breath.

Sukuna looked at your face with a happy heart and got more hornier. Just like he wanted— you were too fucked up to make sense of yourself. He saw how your cheeks were red, your lips parted to let out a dirty sigh, your eyelids almost closed. This is the effect it has on your body. He loves the idea he has of you so much that he is so crazy about it, just like he is so crazy about you. So with that Sukuna slammed his dick into your pussy so hard it made you gasp.

His hands roughly grabbed your neck, gripping it and pulling your face closer until your face was next to his. One of Sukuna's hands went down to your pussy. His finger found your clitoris again and rubbed it hard making your legs shake. “N-no, Sukuna— ah! please..” Sukuna ignored your moans and continued rubbing your clit until you couldn't take it anymore and released your juice, covering the pantry walls, you, and him. Sukuna smiled with satisfaction, “That's right slut, cum for me, feel good, hm? do you like it, y/n? Do you like it when I make you cum like a pretty little slut you are?” He talks dirty in your ear so sensually. Making your overstimulated cunt begging for more.

“Answer me, you slut!” He slapped your sensitive cunt making you yelp with pleasure. “Y-yes, I—” You can't continue with what you're about to say because Sukuna one more time pounds his cock roughly to your cunt. You can feel tears stream down your face because of how much pain yet pleasure you feel in your body. Sukuna brings you to cloud nine, making you want more. “Kuna, please.. f-faster, more, more, ah— please,” you begged.

Sukuna threw you a mocking chuckle as he gripped your neck tightly. He can feel your moan in his palm hand. “You want to break up with me yet here you are begging for more. Can't get enough of my cock aren't you, hm? You're such a slut, y/n, you're my slut,” he whispered his last sentence in your ear as he erotically bit your ear and licked it. He slowed down and pulled his cock out of your sloppy cunt. You let out a voice of protest and move your hips— looking for his cock, getting more needy the second you can't feel his cock. “Be patient and tell me that you want to break up with me,” he said to you.

You shake your head, “Please, kuna, fuck me, I want you,” you beg, shamelessly. You pushed your ass to Sukuna, hoping his gonna put his cock back at your horny cunt. Sukuna smirked, knowing damn well he got you in his finger, you never get enough of him, of his cock, that's for sure. Slowly, he pushed his still-hard cock back to your cunt. “Tell me, baby, tell me how much you want me to fuck you,” he whispered. You close your eyes and part your lips as you feel your cunt being full of Sukuna's thick cock again. “I want your cock— fuck! I want you to fill me in, I love you kuna,” you whispered without realising it, too fuck up to think straight.

The last sentence is enough for Sukuna to fuck you to oblivion. So he pushes your body back to the cold surface of the pantry. With one rough pound, his cock is fully inside your cunt. His swelling cock bullying your overstimulated cunt.

“Now you know who you belong to, every time you ask for break up, I'm gonna fuck you so hard until you lost your mind and only remember I good I made you feel. How you being such a slut for this cock and taking me so well,” keeps pounding his cock to you. And Sukuna doesn't plan to stop anytime soon. He had a whole night to remind you that there is no breaking up in your relationship with him. You had no other choice, it's not like you don't enjoy being fuck by your boyfriend anyway.