#my gifs: line of duty
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gummi-ships · 1 year ago
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ncthandrake · 1 year ago
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ASH WILLIAMS Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II
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first-ex-wife · 1 year ago
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Bruce Campbell as Jeff Erickson in In the Line of Duty: Blaze of Glory (1997)
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cave-monkey · 8 months ago
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Six Ears, and being left.
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bedforddanes75 · 5 months ago
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james-p-sullivan · 6 months ago
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ive put a ridiculous amount of monsters inc gifs in the queue
if there’s any specific scenes you guys can think of let me know!
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selkiewife · 2 years ago
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"Exhausting, wasn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are."
This LINE! I just have to write it here as a reminder that I have to gif this line. I see a lot of gifs of Alicent’s “Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?” line, but this was the line that made me gasp during the knife fight. Because of the truth of it. Clinging to duty and sacrifice is hurting Alicent and eating away at her soul. And the fact that she lashes out here- going completely AGAINST the idea of being a dutiful and subservient Queen in defense of her kid ( “what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms?” ) is a stunning acknowledgement of how much the concept of duty and sacrifice is hurting her. That she has to keep all this bottled up and hidden so that when it comes out it is in an incredibly toxic form. And the look on Alicent’s face when Rhaenyra says it reveals this as well. Because it IS fucking exhausting, to hide yourself this way. To mold yourself into what others in your society want you to be. 
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indigosunsetao3 · 8 months ago
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This gif set is the perfect “passing of the baton” for me finishing Keeping Lines Blurry (Gaz’s story) and starting to A Reason to Try (Alex’s story). Oooh casual story title drop 😉
Gaz is headed out and Alex is tapping in.
“Listen, there’s going to be a lot of angst and you’ll want to give up, but don’t…it’ll be worth it in the end, mate. See you on the other side.” -Gaz
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Modern Warfare (2019)
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newobsessionweekly · 8 months ago
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Secret signals
Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x fem!reader Fandom: The Rookie
Summary: You and Tim have been best friends for as long as you can remember. Little did you know he feels the same way about you.
Warning: None. Pure fluff. Not proofread yet
Fluff
A/N: Yes, i'm back with another fluff. And yes it's shorter than the last one (i hope so) . Anyways, I love this one. I love all of them and I hope you enjoy it as well! Also i suck at title so forgive me. I have a surprise coming up so stay tuned. Also, the feedback is always welcome and would help me out. Have a wonderful day, bubs. and lots of love 🫧 Requested: Yes Words: 2.3k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.
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You made your way through the crowded streets, heading to the police station, a direct order and classified information dictating your day.
Inside the station, the air is alive with activity, officers bustling about as they go about their duties. The scent of coffee and paperwork fills the air, a familiar aroma that feels like home. You navigate the labyrinthine halls with ease, your footsteps echoing off the walls as you make your way toward a specific desk.
And there's Tim, your best friend and partner in crime. He's every bit as striking as you remember, with his broad shoulders and commanding presence. His piercing blue eyes hold a hint of world-weariness, a testament to the countless battles he's fought both on and off the streets of LA.
You couldn't help but smile at the sight, Tim frowning over some files, trying to find a way to catch that woman. Gladly for him, you were sent there to give them a hand.
Playfully, you snuck up on him, sliding into the chair beside Tim with a mischievous grin. "Hey there, partner." you greeted him, nudging his shoulder.
Tim's head shot up, a surprised, almost intelligible, smile breaking through his expression as he grumbles something indecipherable, but you know him well enough to recognize the hint of amusement in his eyes. "Can't a guy get some peace and quiet around here?" he mutters.
"Don't be so exited to see me, I might think you like me or something." you played the sarcastic card as you reached over to snatch the file from his hands.
"So, what brings you to the lion's den today?" Tim asks, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as he leans against his desk, arms crossed.
You lean in closer, your fingers brushing against his arm as you secretively whispered, "I heard there's a handsome police officer in need of my assistance. Thought I'd drop by and grace you all with my presence," you quip, earning an amused snort from him.
A playful smirk crosses Tim's lips as his breath winds warm against your ear. "Right, because we all know this place wouldn't be the same without you."
As Tim leans in closer, his voice low and husky, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, captivated by the warmth of his presence and the depth of emotion in his eyes. And as he grins at you, that familiar twinkle of mischief dancing in his gaze, you can't help but feel a surge of affection for the man who's been by your side through thick and thin. You chuckle, knowing Tim's gruff exterior hides a soft spot for you. "Actually, I'm here on official business," you admit, your expression turning serious.
As you steal a moment to admire Tim, you can't help but notice how the dim light of the station casts a soft glow on his rugged features, accentuating the lines of his jaw and the shadow of stubble along his chin. His tousled hair falls across his forehead in a way that makes your fingers itch to reach out and brush it away, but you resist the urge.
Tim's interest is piqued as he straightens up, all traces of humor fading from his face. "What kind of business?" he asks, his tone more serious now.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before continuing "Well, you know how my department has been working on that recent string of burglaries? I think I might have stumbled upon some information that could help you catch the woman behind it," you explain, your words coming out in a rush as you anxiously await Tim's reaction.
Tim's expression shifts, his eyes narrowing as he processes your words. "You think you've found something?" he asks, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and intrigue.
You nod eagerly, a surge of adrenaline coursing through you as you showed him the files. "Yeah, I've been going through the data from our latest investigations, and I noticed a pattern," you explain, your excitement palpable.
His lips twitch into a half-smile, a flicker of pride evident in his eyes as he looks at you. "You're amazing, you know that?" he says, his voice low and sincere.
Tim's eyes soften as he looks at you, a warmth radiating from him that makes your heart skip a beat. You find yourself getting lost in the depths of his piercing blue eyes, unable to tear your gaze away.
There's a subtle warmth in his touch, a lingering of his hand on your arm as he gestures or a light brush of his fingers against yours when passing papers. It's a touch that speaks volumes, conveying a depth of affection that goes beyond mere friendship.
Despite your best efforts to keep your feelings in check, you can't deny the way your heart races at the sight of him, or the way your skin tingles with electricity whenever your hands accidentally brush against each other. It's as if every touch, every fleeting glance, only serves to deepen the unspoken connection between you, binding you together in a way that defies explanation.
Your voice barely more than a breath as you lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of his fingers against your skin. In that moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of warmth and affection.
As you and Tim discuss the details of the case, a beautiful woman approaches with a stack of papers in hand. "Sir, I finished up the paperwork from this morning's arrest," she says, flashing a bright smile, confident and proud of herself.
You switched looks between the woman and Tim, admiring him and how his muscles were more visible. He switched in his seat to face Chen, as written on the tag. With one hand still laying on your waist, slowly moving up and down, sending cold shivers down your spine despite the warmth, he took the papers from her with his free hand and inspected them with a serious expression.
"Quit frowning, you'll get even more wrinkles." you told him as your elbows rested on his desk, your hands cupping your cheeks. You can't resist the urge to tease Tim, your playful banter a familiar comfort amidst the tension of the moment.
You smiled at him as he ignored your remark, he turns at the woman nodding his head, acknowledging her with a grunt. "Officer Chen, this is Y/N," he introduces, gesturing towards you. "She's an old friend of mine, works in the forensic department."
Lucy offers you a friendly smile and extends her hand. "I'm Lucy. Nice to meet you," she says warmly.
You shake her hand with a smile of your own. "Likewise," you reply, noting the earnestness in Lucy's eyes. "So this is your rookie." you turned to your best friend and then your attention focused on his rookie once more, "Tim speaks about you all the time."
Tim clears his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Well, we should get going," he says, his voice a tad too loud in the suddenly awkward silence. "We've got patrol duty."
Angela overhears your name and practically materializes at Tim's desk, her curiosity piqued. "Why did no one tell me Y/N is here?" she asks, her eyes wide with interest.
Before you could think, you jump from your seat, missing Tim's warmth as you embraced Officer Lopez in a tight hug "Honey, glad to see you. It's been too long." you told her, gently caressing her back as you withdrew from the hug.
Pulling back, Angela's gaze flickering between you and Tim with a knowing glint in her eye. "I know, I've been busier than ever," she says with a chuckle. "But I might have some free time tonight. Gotta go, but I'll give you a call!"
Angela shows your best friend a mischievous grin as he clenches his jaw, uncomfortable at the attention you received. "Boot, prepare the shop for patrol." he barked at Lucy.
"Yes, sir." she nodded, following Angela's steps.
As you gathered your belongings, Tim could calmly breathe as the two of you had been left alone. It wasn't the fact he didn't adore your friendliness and caring side, he was jealous when he had to share that with anyone.
"Hey, uh," he called out, his tone tinged with an underlying nervousness.
Turning to face him, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes seemed to search yours, as if seeking reassurance or perhaps something more.
"I was thinking," he began, his words trailing off for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued. "I was thinking we could grab a drink after our shift. You know, just to unwind."
His suggestion caught you off guard, and for a moment, you struggled to find the right words.
"That sounds great, Tim," you said, exited at the thought of escaping the daily chaos "We should ask Angela too."
As soon as the words left your mouth, his expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he replied, his tone betraying a hint of resignation.
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Lucy couldn't help but steal glances back at you and as she made her way to the patrol shop. "So, Angela" she began, her voice filled with unstoppable curiosity " What's the deal with them?"
Angela chuckles softly as she saw the spark in Chen's eyes "Oh, they've been friends for as long as I can remember. They're practically inseparable."
Lucy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise "You wouldn't tell he'd have friends… at all."
Lopez helps Lucy with the bags as they made their way to the shop "Oh, they go way back."
"Really?"
"Let's just say there's a lot more to their relationship than meets the eye," she says cryptically, enjoying the opportunity to tease Tim.
Lucy's eyes widen in realization, her gaze flickering back to you and Tim standing by the entrance of the station. Tim's smile is wide, his eyes lighting up like torches as your cheeks rose a bright, red colour "You don't mean…" she begins, trailing off as the pieces start to fall into place.
Angela simply nods, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Exactly," she replies, her tone filled with amusement. "But don't take my word for it. Just keep an eye on them, and you'll see for yourself."
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As Lucy and Tim hit the streets on patrol, he is back to his grumpy self, his jaw clenched as he drove through the streets of LA. His rookie tries to lighten the mood with small talk, but Tim's responses are short and curt.
"My private life is none of your business."
"Come on, Tim," Officer Chen insisted, casting a sidelong glance at him. "You've been avoiding this conversation all day. What's going on with you and Y/N?"
Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "There's nothing going on," he replies tersely, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
The rookie raises an eyebrow, unconvinced by his response. "Bull," she retorts. "I've seen the way you look at her. You can't hide it from me."
Tim's jaw tightens even further, his knuckles turning white against the dark leather of the steering wheel. "Look, Officer Chen," he begins, his voice strained. "I don't know what you think you saw, but Y/N and I are just very close friends. That's it."
Lucy lets out an exasperated sigh, frustration bubbling up inside her. "You can't tell me you don't feel something for her. I've never seen you light up the way you do when she's around."
Tim's expression softens slightly at her words, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a scowl. "Feelings don't matter," he says brusquely. "Even if I did have feelings for her, which I don't, there's no way she feels the same way about me. I'm no dating material. "
Lucy shakes her head, her voice firm. "You're wrong, Tim," she says, her gaze unwavering. "You're worth more than you think, and Y/N knows that. You just have to give her a chance."
Tim falls silent, his thoughts swirling as he grapples with Lucy's words. Maybe she's right, he thinks, maybe he's been too quick to dismiss the possibility of something more with you. But the fear of ruining your friendship looms large in his mind, holding him back from taking that leap of faith.
He suddenly pulled the car on the right side, making Lucy frown. As she watched Tim forming Angela's number, a cloud of questions blurring the rookie's mind, eager to hear what he had to say.
"Hey, Angela." he began, a nervous edge creeping into his voice as he ran a hand through his hair "Listen, don't ask any questions, ok? If Y/N calls to invite you out tonight, please, just say no" his foot tapped impatiently as he awaited her response. "Thanks, I'll owe you one."
"What was that?" Lucy asked as Tim pocketed his phone and revved the engine.
"I just made sure I have a date with Y/N tonight." With a grin, he pulled back onto the road, leaving Lucy to process his unexpected move.
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iwasntstable · 3 months ago
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[CREDIT] : gifs by @hedonists
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I saw this post by @lilhobgobbler quite a while ago about size difference with noah but it's fluffy moments. I started this in my notes app back then and decided to finish it! ♡
To expand on what OP said; Noah, sitting in the passenger seat of your car, struggling to reach the lever to push the seat back as you watch him in amusement. The seat finally sliding back but even then, his knees are bent, angled upwards. Him slapping his legs in defeat as you both laugh, threatening to buy you a bigger car just so he’ll fit easier as he takes his passenger princess duties seriously, finding a suitable playlist to drive to.
Cooking dinner for you both and needing an appliance, ingredient or object he placed out of the way on a high shelf in the kitchen since you rarely ever use it. Not being able to reach it so you call him over for help. He comes up behind you, a hand on your hip, trapping you between himself and the counter as he reaches it with ease, placing it down for you before giving you a quick hug from behind with his arm around your waist, hand against your stomach and giving you a peck on your cheek from over your shoulder, then going back to what he was doing. Being the little spoon when you sleep and he curls around you completely. Your head tucked under his chin, his arm around your waist holding you so close against his chest, his legs slotted perfectly behind yours. You're completely surrounded and enveloped by his comfort and warmth, and you always get the best night’s sleep when he holds you in his arms. Standing in line at the store and he rests his arms over your shoulders from behind, holding his phone in front of your face while you both check the grocery list to see if you've forgotten anything. His chin resting on your head while you debate whether the shredded cheese is worth going back for. You, hugging him from behind. Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as you rest your forehead against his broad back. Nodding against him when he asks if you’re okay, going back to what he was doing with you attached to him like a koala. Affectionately caressing your hand and arm periodically, just to let you know he remembers you’re there. Just to let you know he loves you.
Him falling asleep on top of you like a big Bernese mountain dog, covering you completely like the world's best weighted blanket. His head on your chest, tucked under your chin as you play with his hair and stroke his back. He's never slept better.
Him loving when you wear his clothes. He likes his shirts and hoodies a little oversized, so on you they're absolutely massive, stopping somewhere between your knee and upper thigh it always looks like a little dress on you. Feeling so snug and comforted, wrapped up in soft fabric that smells just like him. It fills his heart to see you carrying around a piece of him with you willingly like this. And he can’t help but squeeze you in a tight, all-consuming hug, knowing you belong to him, and he absolutely belongs to you.
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☰ 𝗡𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/HEADCANNONS/SIZEDIFFFLUFF [projects] ﹂ [my work] | in progress | favourites  ﹂ all | series | one-shot | blurb | [head-cannons] | ask   ﹂ cuddly-noah | [size-diff-fluff]
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mythicalmaven · 4 months ago
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Beyond Boundaries • Oscar Piastri (PART FIVE)
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Masterlist
Yes! You saw it correct! Time for chapter 5 already! <3 cant wait for chapter 6 already I tried something new this chapter & that was including some gifs in the chapter to make it a little more dynamic! It's just a little trial, so please let me know if you liked it or not, so that I know if I should include those more often :) So, just for the record, the chapter isn't finished after the gifs, it continues below the gif! :)
↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader (norris!reader) ↳word count: 4.2K ↳ parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, ↳chapter warnings: jealousy, first kiss, smut, 18+ content (mdni!), oral (male!receiving), fingering, emotional rollercoaster, brothers teammate trope, bestfriend!reader
↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, Oscar finds himself grappling with unexpected feelings and rising tension, leaving him conflicted about how to handle his emotions
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The rest of the holiday went by excruciatingly slow, the interactions between you and Oscar have been limited, you honestly were pretty much unable to look him in the eye, until you were pretty much forced by your job duties. Which meant you both had to put on a straight face and be act like the professional ones. The first time you spoke about what happened during your shared holiday, was the Wednesday before the Australian Grand Prix. You both had to attend the driver's meeting that was planned. His initial behavior towards you was distant and cold, something you completely understand. You had been avoiding him and he obviously noticed that. 
Afterwards you had decided to take Oscar aside, asking him if he was okay with having a talk with you. It took you a few days to work up the courage to talk to him. You knew you shouldn't have avoided him for so long, he didn't deserve that treatment and you knew it.  The talk with Oscar resulted in a big relief and a reparation of your friendship, a friendship with maybe potential for a little more.
*flashback to wednesday*
The two of you were sitting on the couch in Oscar's drivers' room, both looking at the floor. Talking about what happened during the holiday and how you both felt about it. You apologized to him about the way you handled everything and how you treated him. It was a good and relieving conversation, both glad that you made up. Because the both of you honestly couldn't stand this a day longer.
"I missed you" Oscar mumbled under his breath "I've felt annoyingly incomplete these past days"
You rested your head on his shoulder "I missed you too, Osc" you murmured back at him "I missed our jokes, our silly little facetime calls in the middle of the night, our movie night. I've missed my best friend"
Friendzone, that's what Oscar felt himself getting pushed back into. He rolled his eyes, puffing out a frustrated sigh "Don't you think you should stop calling me that?"
You looked at him confused "What? Why?"  
Oscar raised an eyebrow at you, rolling his eyes "I think we both know we crossed that line the moment you gave me a handjob, don't you think?" 
You chuckled at him, laughing it off a little "It wasn't just me! You pleasured me too, you know?" 
Oscar threw his hands up defensively "Hey! You started it!" he joked back at you.
Another laugh left your lips "Sure, we went beyond boundaries, but that doesn't mean you can't still be my best friend?"
The Australian driver jokingly shot you a suggestive look "What if I don't want to be just your best friend?"
"Osc.."  you uttered "We both know we shouldn't go down that road"
"I know, and I agree that it's for the best if we don't, but it doesn't change my feelings for you" he said, verbally admitting his feelings towards you for the first time "I can't change the fact that I'm in love with you"
You looked at him, softly placing a hand on his thigh, trying to comfort both yourself and him. You wanted to kiss him, but you can't, you shouldn't. It tore you apart, but it was for the best. You found yourself unable to reply to his words, too overwhelmed.
"Just be honest with me please, do you have feelings for me?" Oscar asked, placing his hand on top of yours. 
You looked at him, his brown eyes meeting yours "Yes"
*back to present*
It was Sunday, which meant it was race day. The race took the least expected turn, which lead to Max not even finishing and Carlos securing another win. The whole ordeal resulting in your brother on the podium for a 3rd place and Oscar finished right behind him in 4th. To say that you were proud, would have been a massive understatement. Event though the boys themselves might be a little disappointed about not reaching the top step, you were over the moon. To celebrate Carlos' victory the drivers had decided to go to a well known nightclub in Melbourne. 
You were currently trying to convince Oscar to join the lot of you, which seemed to be a lot more difficult than you would have liked "Come on Oscar! You gotta come!"
Charles piped in, leaning on your shoulder "Yes! Listen to y/n! It won't be as bad as you think!" Charles exclaimed "And! Not entirely unimportant, those nightclubs are full of hot women. You cant convince me that you wouldn't enjoy having a little fun with a gorgeous woman"
"I don't need a random girl twerking on me, thanks. I'm fine where I am" Oscar replied a little uncomfortable. Yes he definitely would enjoy having a little fun with a gorgeous woman; but only if that woman was you.
Charles looked at him and rolled his eyes "Don't be a party pooper, Piastri" he joked, putting his arm around your shoulder, sending Oscar a little puppy dog face "Do it for us?"
"Fine" he huffed, finally giving in
"Yayy!" you cheered, jumping into Oscar's arms, hugging him enthusiastically.
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—————⋆₊⁺☾⋆the nightclub⋆☾⋆₊⁺—————
A few hours had passed since you all arrived at the nightclub, one that was pretty private and today only allowed entrance to the drivers, f1 staff and their invitees as well as a few other high established guests. So to speak, it was safe for the drivers to have a fun night out without the media getting involved.
You couldn't deny you might have had a few too many cocktails, completely unaware of just how drunk you were. Oscar stood at the bar, a beer in one hand and the other in his pocket, watching you intently. His gaze was locked on Carlos, who was dancing with you far too sensually for Oscar's liking.
The music thrummed through the room, a sultry beat promising temptation. You felt Carlos's steady hand on your waist as you moved together, the rhythm guiding your steps. His touch was warm and reassuring, but your eyes kept darting over his shoulder, seeking out Oscar.
Oscar stood on the opposite side of the room, his gaze fixed on you. He watched every sway of your hips, every flick of your hair, the intensity in his eyes palpable. You met his stare head-on, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned closer to Carlos, your fingers trailing lightly down his arm.
You saw the muscle in Oscar's jaw tighten, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Carlos was getting on his nerves today. If he wasn't driving him off the track, he was stealing the girl of his dreams. Yes, Oscar knew he was exaggerating the problem, but with too much beer in his system, he was extra annoyed.
"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Lando asked, following Oscar's gaze. "Oh, that's what's bothering you," he chuckled.
Oscar and Lando's friendship had fortunately returned to normal quickly after the whole ordeal. After his talk with you, Lando immediately went to Oscar, apologizing for the situation. They discussed many things, including Oscar's feelings for you, which Oscar found incredibly scary due to his previous reaction. Lando admitted he had been too overprotective and childish. He told Oscar he realized he would always be protective over his sister, but if she had to date someone, it might as well be someone he trusted more than anyone, pretty much giving him a green light.
Oscar downed the rest of his beer in one go, almost slamming the glass on the bar, and ordered two shots. "I need more alcohol," he huffed.
"Oscar, she's single and drunk, it doesn't mean anything to her. She probably just wanted to have a little fun and Carlos was at the right place at the right moment" Lando laughed, knowing his sister well. "And besides, I can guarantee you Carlos isn't interested in her that way. They just like to flirt sometimes."
"Yeah, everyone but me," Oscar huffed, handing Lando one of the shots he ordered.
Lando laughed again, rolling his eyes. "That's your own fault, you idiot. You're the one standing by the bar instead of on the dance floor."
"I can't dance," Oscar stated simply, trying not to say too much.
"Mate, if you dance with her, she'll probably take the lead anyway," Lando began, running a hand through his curls, looking back at his sister. "And you're blind as well, by the way."
Oscar gave the Brit a confused look before Lando immediately opened his mouth. "Oscar, it disgusts me to say this because she is my sister. But she's literally undressing you with her eyes. Eww." Lando pulled a disgusted face before continuing. "She's been looking at you pretty much every few seconds. I know my sister; she's one hundred percent trying to make you jealous, mate."
"Even if she is, what am I supposed to do about that?" Oscar scoffed, redirecting his gaze towards you to see if Lando was right. "She's the one who told me we shouldn't be together."
"She said you guys shouldn't date; she didn't say anything about being friends with benefits, did she?" Lando said, pulling yet another disgusted face. "It's honestly downright revolting to talk about my sister doing stuff like that, but someone had to tell you because I'm going insane from all your pining."
While the two boys stood there, Daniel joined them, putting his arm around Lando's shoulder. "Lando is right, you know."
"See! Even Danny agrees!" Lando exclaimed.
Daniel laughed at Lando's enthusiasm, glad to see he made up his mind. "You could always give her a taste of her own medicine. Go dance with my sister over there," he said, pointing at the brunette dancing with Pierre and Charles. "Just whisper in her ear that I sent you and that you need to make Y/N jealous, and I'm sure she'll play along."
"Daniel, how do you expect me to do that? I have the social skills of a peanut," Oscar replied.
The two boys laughed at Oscar, finding it incredibly funny how awkward he could be. "Just go! Go with the flow, come on, live a little!"
"Ugh, fine," Oscar huffed, a sigh of annoyance leaving his lips as he walked off towards the crowd of people on the dance floor.
Lando looked back at Daniel, giving him a smirk. "Mint."
"It's funny to see how quick you turned around. I'm proud of you, though," Daniel told Lando, still leaning his head on the younger one's shoulder.
"Would be a little hypocritical of me, now wouldn't it?" Lando replied, turning around in Daniel's arms, giving him a quick, sneaky peck on the cheek before pulling away quickly to make sure no one saw.
"Honestly surprised she hasn't figured it out yet. We've been a little too obvious, no?" Daniel asked.
Lando chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "And that's exactly why she hasn't caught on to it yet. I'll tell her eventually, though."
Meanwhile Lando and Daniel were talking, Oscar was already on the dance floor, his arms around Michelle, Daniel's sister. He explained his plan to her, which she replied to with a roll of her eyes and a giggle, but gladly agreed to. It felt wrong, horribly wrong. The alcohol was making it a lot easier, kinda served as liquid courage. 
"She's looking" Daniel's sister whispered in his ear, gliding her arms over his back.
 As the music shifted to a slower, more sensual rhythm, he pulled her close, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh, her hand resting comfortably on his shoulder.
You felt a sharp pang of jealousy twist in your gut. Carlos must have sensed the change in your demeanor because he gave you a questioning look. But you were too focused on the scene unfolding before you to offer any explanation.
Oscar's hand was low on Michelle's back, guiding her movements with a practiced ease. She looked up at him through her lashes, a playful smile on her lips, and he responded with a grin of his own, his eyes flicking to you for the briefest of moments. It was a challenge, a direct provocation.
Determined not to let him see how much it affected you, you pressed closer to Carlos, your movements becoming more fluid and seductive. You laughed at something Carlos whispered, but the sound was hollow even to your own ears.
Across the room, Oscar spun Michelle, his hand lingering on hers a fraction longer than necessary. He dipped her, their faces inches apart, and your heart raced with a mixture of anger and something you didn't want to name. When he pulled her back up, their gazes locked, and the air between them seemed as though it crackled with unspoken  tension.
But it was the look he shot you afterward, a look filled with defiance and raw emotion, that made your breath catch. The dance floor had become a battleground, each movement a strategic play in a game of jealousy and desire. And neither of you was willing to back down.
Carlos's hand slid up your arm, his touch gentle but firm, grounding you. "You okay?" he murmured, concern lacing his voice.
You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, just... caught up in the moment."
But as you glanced back at Oscar, now laughing with Michelle as if nothing else mattered, you knew the truth. The moment was far from over, and the stakes had never been higher.
"You're trying to make him jealous, aren't you?" Carlos whispered in your ear, a smirk growing on his lips. 
"Duh, obviously" you retorted, pulling the Spaniard even closer, your arms around his neck inching his face even closer to you. 
"Well, I think it's working. He's coming over" he spoke in a low voice "Keep your eyes on me until he's here, cariño" 
You tried your best not to look behind you, feeling the adrenaline surge through your body, nerves overwhelming you. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, the familiar warmth of Oscar's fingers enclosing your upper arm, pulling you out of Carlos' grasp. You looked into his eyes, and before you could react, he cupped your cheek in his hand and smashed his lips to yours.
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The kiss was fierce and urgent, a release of all the emotions both of you had been holding back. His lips moved against yours with a desperate intensity, and you matched his fervor, your hands flying to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. You could taste the faint bitterness of beer on his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.
Oscar's other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your bodies moved in sync, pressing against each other as if trying to meld together. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a low groan from him that you felt reverberate through your own chest.
The kiss grew messier, more frantic, fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins. His hands roamed your back, gripping and kneading, while your fingers traced the line of his jaw, down to his neck, then back up to his hair. The world around you blurred into nothingness; there was only Oscar, his touch, his taste, his heat.
Eventually, the need for air forced you both to break apart, but only just. Your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted, and you could feel his heartbeat echoing the wild rhythm of your own.
Oscar's voice was a rough whisper as he spoke, "I've wanted to do that for so long."
You nodded slightly, your fingers still tangled in his hair. "Me too."
For a moment, neither of you moved, savoring the closeness, the shared warmth, the unspoken promise hanging in the air. The nightclub continued to pulse around you, but in that moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.
Oscar pressed his lips to yours again, more a short brush of your lips this time "Come back to the hotel with me? No strings attached" he proposed, his voice a little husky.
That's how you both ended up in the elevator, on its way to the floor where both of your hotel rooms were located. Oscar had pinned you against the elevator wall, his lips feverishly peppering your neck with kisses, unable to hold back. His hands roamed from your back to your stomach, slipping under your top to grab your hips, his thumbs pressing into your hipbones.
"I need you so bad, love," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and ragged.
"Fuck, Osc— I-I need you too," you moaned out, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer.
His mouth moved up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling with a desperation that made your head spin. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, mixed with the raw desire that fueled both of you. Your hands explored his body, fingers slipping under his shirt to feel the hard muscles of his back, the heat of his skin.
Oscar's grip tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him. The elevator hummed around you, but all you could focus on was the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his body pressing into yours. He trailed kisses along your jawline, nipping at your earlobe before returning to your lips with renewed hunger.
You arched into him, your back pressing harder against the cool metal wall of the elevator. The contrast between the cold surface and Oscar's fiery touch sent shivers down your spine. His hands slid up, pushing your top higher, his fingers splaying over your ribs as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin.
"Oscar," you breathed, your voice a mix of urgency and need.
He responded with a low growl, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that stole your breath away. One hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as his other hand gripped your waist, anchoring you to him. The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at the desired floor, but neither of you moved, lost in the moment.
Reluctantly, Oscar broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes burned with desire as they locked onto yours. "You okay with my hotel room?" he asked in a whisper, his voice husky with promise 
You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. Hand in hand, you stumbled out of the elevator, anticipation thrumming through your veins as you made your way to Oscar's room, ready to lose yourselves in each other.
Oscar reached inside of his pockets to grab his keycard, fumbling with it to open the door. When he finally managed to open it, he pulled you inside with him. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Oscar pinned you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. His breath was hot against your ear as he murmured huskily, "I can't wait any longer."
His lips found yours in a heated kiss, his hands roaming your body with a desperate need. One hand slid up under your top, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, while the other moved lower, slipping under your skirt. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you ached for him.
"Oscar," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you," he whispered seductively, his lips grazing your jawline.
His fingers found their way to your core, slipping beneath the fabric of your panties. You moaned softly as he began to caress you, his touch both gentle and insistent. His other hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could claim your lips once more.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to make you feel good."
You could only respond with a whimper, your hands clutching at his shoulders as his fingers moved with expert precision. He circled your sensitive nub, then slipped a finger inside you, his thumb still working on your clit. The dual sensations had you arching into him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
"That's it, love," he purred, his lips now trailing down your neck. "Let go for me."
He added another finger, curling them just right, and your world narrowed down to the feel of his touch and the sound of his voice. His whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how much he needed you, how he wanted to watch you come undone.
Your body responded to his every word, the tension building inside you until it was almost unbearable. "Oscar," you gasped, your nails digging into his back.
"I've got you," he breathed softly, his fingers moving faster, his thumb pressing more firmly. "Come for me, love."
With a cry, you shattered around him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. He held you through it, his fingers still working you gently, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm.
When you finally came down, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily. He withdrew his hand, bringing it up to cradle your face as he kissed you tenderly, his touch now soft and soothing.
"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with love and awe.
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the physical pleasure. "So are you," you replied breathlessly, your fingers tracing his jawline "I need you to fuck me, Osc"
He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I don't want to remember my first time with you as a drunk encounter against my hotel room door." he admitted, honesty evident in his voice.
"At least let me make you feel good then" you smiled at him, feeling a sudden boost of confidence taking you over as you flipped the two of you around, Oscar now being the one pinned to the wall. You send him a lustful look and sank to your knees, looking up at him with (not so) innocent eyes. 
Oscar let his head fall back against the wall, letting out a soft groan as he felt your hands explore his thighs. His hands moving to your hair, tangling his fingers in it. You fingers were moving extremely slowly, fully on purpose, trying to make the young Australian go insane. You carefully unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling it down his thighs. You used your teeth to pull his boxers down, causing Oscar to let out an almost embarrassing whine "Fucking tease" he uttered, his voice nothing but a rough whisper.
You lips traveled from his abdomen to his thighs and back, placing soft kisses everywhere, except for where he needed your lips the most. The sensation was electric as your lips met Oscar's skin, biting, sucking, and leaving a trail of marks in their wake.
Oscar tugged at your hair and moaned out loud as you finally closed your lips around the head of his cock, sucking softly. Your mouth felt even better than it did in his fantasies, Oscar felt like he was in heaven. He didn't want to feel like a teenager and cum too quickly, but the alcohol in his system and the way you worked your magic on him, caused the knot in his stomach to tighten quickly. Adrenaline and heat moving through his body, taking a tighter grip on your hair "Fuck, y/n" 
You licked and sucked, causing Oscar's breath to get caught in his throat. Tongue dancing over the sensitive flesh, coaxing a gasp from Oscar. Each movement sent waves of extreme pleasure coursing through his body, moans only growing louder every second. Unable to hold back the sound escaping his lips.
You then took his whole length in your mouth, your nose almost touching his abs, before releasing most of his member, except for the tip. You looked up at him through your lashes as you twirled your tongue against the underside of his cock "F-Fuck... wait" Oscar uttered, stumbling on his words, his breath coming out in ragged puffs. 
You pulled off him for a little while and looked at him, a little concerned "What's wrong?" you asked softly
 "F-Fuck, I'll come if you do that again"
A smirk formed on your lips, Oscar's dick disappears back between your lips. You bob your head up and down again, the rhythm pretty much perfect for Oscar. Another satisfied moan escapes his lips, right before you repeat your previous action, immediately feeling his himself get closer to the edge. He tried to pull you off his cock, but you refused, only sucking him harder, your eyes meeting his again. 
Oscar feels his orgasm washing over him in a way he has never experienced before, emptying himself in your mouth. You swallowed it all, before slowly pulling away, before you slowly rose from your knees, wiping your lips with the back of you hand. Your lips were puffy and red, your hair a mess. The sight of it almost enough to make Oscar get hard all over again.
—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————
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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28
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dontfearrr · 11 months ago
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ask and you shall receive! @elia-the-bibliophile
i have a few warnings, i’m coming out of fan fiction retirement so bare with me. i didn’t proofread that well so don’t mind any spelling mistakes, i used some shitty sindarin translator on google so i do apologize if it’s incorrect, and. i think that’s all! :)
In my arms
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gif not mine!
Summary: Thranduil isn’t very fond of you and legolas’s relationship but nonetheless he bares it.
Pairing: Thranduil x reader
Warnings: small hint toward sex (nothing specific)
Word count: idk tbh i forgot to check
Category: hurt/comfort(?)
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“final count, forty-two.” Legolas spoke matter-a-factly across from you as he ran his fingers over his perfectly crafted, elvish bow. You gave him a raised eyebrow and drew your sword in a blink of an eye, plunging it into an orc that had its axe raised behind Legolas’s back.
“forty four”
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It was midday in middle earth, you and Legolas had volunteered to clear the rogue orcs that ravaged near by villages, burning and spilling blood mercilessly. It wasn’t often you got to spend time with him due to your other duties in Mirkwood.
The Woodland Realm had been your home for many ages, you were an elf but a fool in their eyes. Woodland elves aren’t the wisest of the bunch but nonetheless, they’re your home. Legolas was the closest you’d ever get to a brother, he cared for you as family.
However that could never sit right with Thranduil.
He was a stubborn man, possessive some may say, which is why you and Legolas’s little adventure wasn’t mentioned to the elven king. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest choice considering he will find out eventually, he had men everywhere you look. At the end of the day, you’re accompanied by one of the most skilled princlings you’ve ever came across, so what could justify Thranduils brooding this time?
You and Legolas were on your way back to your residence, small talk was made but you both enjoyed simply just each others company, even if it was in silence.
“and what do you suppose daddy dearest will have to say once we return?” you inquired, not looking up from the ground as the both of them walked walked. “something along the lines of ‘no one leaves here without my knowledge, i’ve told you many times legolas’ then send me off as if i’m some child” He mocked his father, which earned a small smile in amusement from you.
As you entered the throne room, you and Legolas stood near the doors for a moment, exchanging farewells for the day. He embraces you in a warm comforting hug as he always did before he let you be, smoothing down the back of your hair and nodding his head before exiting to mind his duties. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself for what was to come as you walked down the long stone walk way to the throne, which sat the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. He sat nearly diagonal, legs crossed with his arms on either side of the throne. Glittery gems littered his fingers and crown that complimented his usual flawless elven apparel.
His long white hair shifted with his gaze as he spotted the smaller elf before him. He gave her no expression which was expected. He stared, waiting for you to speak, you could feel his mood from where you stood, it reeked of attitude.
Thranduil had spotted the interaction between you and legolas, it burned a fire of rage inside of him, only he was allowed to lay even a finger upon the elf. She belonged to him. His mind raced with thought but never cracked even a sliver of visible emotion.
“my lord” you began to bow before him until he raised a hand, putting a halt to your actions. You stood back up straight in confusion and shifted on your feet, Thranduils eyes staggering into you.
He finally spoke. “i don’t think i remember warranting your leave.”
You stood your ground, after all, the king would do anything for this she-elf.
“orcs were bringing treachery over near by villages, surely you saw the fires, my lord.”
You dipped your toe into the water, testing him.
His eyes narrowed at you, his thick dark eyebrows coming together, he was unimpressed. “and what does that have to do with me?”
“nothing, my lord. Me and Legolas simply volunteered.” you took no more than five steps closer toward the tall man. “we both had a free morning, i see not the problem.” Thranduil uncrossed his legs slowly, rising from his seat. His garments fell into place, the long white, detailed over coat trailed behind him as he made his way down the wooden steps. You were eyeing him like the finest piece of treasure, his grace and royalty always intimidated you.
“very well. however, i see no reason why my son had to accompany you.” he challenged, standing only a few feet from you, hands intertwined at his front.
“i mean not to disrespect you, my lord, but i don’t see a problem with the company of your son. would you have had me go alone? perhaps getting killed?” you know he would react to that, and he did. A long sigh drew from his nostrils, getting quite impatient despite having lived for more than 8,000 years.
“Thranduil, it is to you.” he steps even closer to you and peers down at you like an animal hunting prey. “you two seem.. close.” he followed up, taking the knuckle of his index finger to push a strand of misplaced hair behind your ear. “yes. he’s the only one who will even speak to me in this realm, other than you.” you finally raised your head up to meet his piercing blue eyes. “he is the only one who treats me like family. a brother.” you continued to further solidify your point.
This wasn’t the first time you’ve had a conversation like this with Thranduil. He’s a curious yet jealous mess, whether he likes to admit it or not. This conversation was slowly taking a toll on his heart, nasty remarks threatened his throat and boiling tears threatened his eyes. He remained calm, the elf in front of him reminding him of his purpose.
“he touched you.” Thranduil simply said while tilting his head to the side a bit. If this was his attempt at intimidating you, it sure as hell was working. He made something in your heart weak, yearning for him. “surely you aren’t jealous of your very own son, right?” your tone changed, attempting to take the upper hand in this situation, and based on his expression, it was working. your crossed your arms behind your back and gave him your best doe eyes.
“i mean not to make you feel this way, you know Legolas doesn’t think of me that way, and nor do i.”
Thranduils hand fell from your cheek down to your waist, gripping fairly tight as if you were going to disappear. “i know my son shall never dare to try my woman, but you are special and you know that. it wouldn’t take a lot for him to change his mind.” At this point you were bored of the conversation, you only ever had eyes for Thranduil, but that is hard for him to understand. He’s not used to this kind of love and anything that happens under his nose makes him rethink every single thing that has ever come to him. you were his star.
“oh meleth nin” Your heart ached for the king in front of you. He has seen many a heartbreak. He couldn’t bare to handle another. You were much younger than the elven king, but you knew when his heart was hurting, and you were going to fix that. Both of your hands raised to his face, his skin was like porcelain, flawless and pale. Your thumbs ran over his cheekbones, he instinctively leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. He may seem intimidating, but sometimes even the most wretched need comfort and reassurance.
“Legolas is no more than a brother to me. you need not worry. I pledged my heart to you a long time ago Thranduil and that is how it will stay.” you got as close as you could to him to where you could still reach him. Your hands never left his face and his arms came to wrap around your waist completely. “Im nifred i er aur im lothron ú- n- farn an cin.”(i fear that one day i may not be enough for you) He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. Your heart shattered at the broken man. You wished you could take all of his trouble for yourself so he’d never have to bare them again. His head fell to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck. You’d never seen him so vulnerable before. You held the back of his head, gently smoothing over his hair and scratching his scalp.
“meleth nin, my heart and soul belongs to you. there’s nothing in this earth that could give me the love you do.” You whispered into his ear, kissing the pointy tips and they flushed red. You felt his body shudder at the action and held him closer. “don’t let a simple adventure spoil your mind.”
you lifted his head to face you and leaned yours against his. “im mel cin”(i love you).
Thranduil sighed in content and took your small hand in his, holding it to his cheek as his eyes fell shut once again. He kisses your wrist and opens his eyes. “i apologize for my behavior. it was unnecessary” he drops your hand and pulls you into his large figure, engulfing you in a warm embrace. You returned the embrace by holding him tight, breathing in his woodsy scent as you did so. your head just barely reached his chest, you felt like a princess in his arms. “your apology is accepted. you never have to question my devotion to you. Ask for reassurance and i will give it to you, sweet king.”
He released you and captured your lips in a soft but passionate kiss, he tasted of pine and elvish wine. you savored the kiss as your hands cupped his face, using your thumb to draw gentle circles over the points of his ears. You always loved his body language especially since you’re the only one who ever sees him express emotion besides Legolas. As the kiss ended, you smiled up at him, to which he returned but quickly was replaced with a huff of defeat, his eyes dared to close and his legs nearly trembling.
“you witch” he feigned the insult, merely joking as you gave his ears attention. Causing him to sweep you off your feet into his arms and head toward his chambers.
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annwrites · 4 months ago
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⸻ sons & daughters. aemond | driftmark outtake. ⸻
· pairing: young!aemondtargaryen x niece!reader · type: outtake from this series · summary: aemond reunites with you at driftmark after your family's swift departure from the red keep. · tw: underage—you have been warned. · word count: 2,319 · ꒰a/n꒱: gif
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"I would perform my duty," Aemond states, looking at you over his shoulder. "If mother had only betrothed us."
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You part from your siblings, walking down stone steps, hot tears running down your cheeks. You've barely had a moment free of them since father...since Harwin died.
Your mother does not want you, nor your siblings, to speak of it. So you are forced to instead sequester yourself away to lonesome corners, or to your chambers to grieve with no one to comfort you.
You do not even have Aemond to lean on now. Not since your mother also forced your family out of the Red Keep and onto a lonely island instead.
You will never call it home.
He had stared at you through the service—your uncle—the look on his face unreadable. So you had kept your eyes downcast, shifting on your feet, fighting back fresh tears as Vaemond gave his niece her eulogy. A eulogy which had eventually turned into vicious insinuations, which served only to make your stomach twist nervously.
Everything seems wrong now.
You've never felt so alone before.
You walk down a few more steps, looking behind you, and when you see that you are out of everyone's line-of-sight, you double over, sobbing into your hands.
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Aemond parts from his siblings in search of you.
You've yet to speak a word to him.
The two of you have been exchanging letters since you'd left home, so he'd been most-assured that being reunited here would finally bring him the vision he's been dreaming of daily of you running into his arms once again.
Instead, you'd stared dead-eyed and lifelessly as Lady Laena's casket was lowered into the sea, like you had gone away somewhere else within yourself. And once the service was through, you'd disappeared from the crowded throngs of people gathered round.
He weaves between bodies, glancing this way and that, looking for one particularly comely face, until he reaches a set of steps leading downward and he hears a familiar, quiet cry.
He steps down them, finding you curled into yourself, shaking and crying, so much so that you gasp for air, choking on your own tears.
"Niece," he calls softly.
Your head jerks in his direction and his heart sinks when he takes in your blotchy tear-stricken face.
You quickly wipe at your cheeks with your palms. "Aemond—"
"Uncle," he says, correcting you, taking a seat beside you.
He then pulls you into his arms, wrapping his green velvet cloak around your shoulders. "It's alright. You can cry if you wish. It's just us."
Your chin wobbles and then you turn into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as sobs wrack through your body.
He is silent for a moment, rubbing his hand against your back.
"I'm sorry...about Ser Harwin."
You begin to cry impossibly harder, confirming for him the source of your despair.
"I miss you," he whispers.
You wrap your arms around his middle and he presses a soft kiss to your long brown hair.
"I am...glad we're here together. Even given the circumstances."
You nod softly, hiccupping. "Me too."
He rests his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes, feeling—for the first time since your sudden absence from the one place you are meant to call home—at peace. "I've enjoyed our letters. Hearing from you, that is. It makes you seem not so far away at times."
You press yourself to his chest.
"I hate Dragonstone," you state. "I want to go home."
He tightens his arms around you. "I want that as well."
A beat of silence.
"We should be together. We're supposed to be."
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There's a soft knock at your door and you set down your porcelain doll, padding over to it. "Who...who's there?"
"Uncle Aemond," comes a quiet reply.
Just then, a lock slides free and you slowly open the door just a crack. "What're you doing?"
He glances behind you. "Can I come in? I thought...you might be lonely."
You consider for a moment, then nod, opening the door wider, allowing him entrance.
You lock it once more behind you as you turn to him. "Did anyone see—"
"They never do," he says, coming back toward you, taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips to yours.
You rear back, stumbling. "Aemond—"
"Uncle," he insists. "It's been...weeks. And we...we miss each other. I thought you'd want to."
You blink at him for just a moment, tugging nervously at the sleeves on your nightgown. "I just don't want to get in trouble. We've never...been here before. It's not like the Red Keep where we had hiding places. And the passages."
He glances around, then settles his eyes on your wardrobe, nodding to it. "If someone comes, I'll hide in there."
He looks back to you.
And then you smile softly, nodding. "Okay."
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Aemond's fingers slip clumsily between your legs and he looks to you, his hand trembling as you stare up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
"Does...does that feel good?" He asks, his voice wavering with unsurety.
You nod, gripping the hem of your nightgown that's bunched up around your naked waist.
He nods just once in return, continuing.
You whimper quietly and his eyes flit to the door. "We...we have to be quiet, Y/N."
"I know," you whisper.
Your body jerks, then settles again and you begin to pant softly. "I...think I'm...almost. I think..."
He leans down, pressing a brief kiss to your lips, his heart hammering away in his chest.
You close your eyes then, concentrating.
He watches your features twitch and your brows furrow, your hips lifting to meet his hand. "I'm—" he pauses. "I'm glad we could. One last time. Are...are you?"
You nod. "Yes."
When you're finally overcome with that wonderful feeling neither of you has a name for yet, it's with you biting your lip and Aemond staring at the door, terrified at any moment the two of you may be caught. Even if the lock is in-place.
Part of him hopes for it, however. If you were, his mother and yours—his father, the King—would have no choice but to betroth you then. To make his beloved niece his for forever.
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You glance down to Aemond's trousers, then back to him.
He blushes madly. "I...well, something happened when we were..."
You blush as well. "Oh."
It's happened before—him doing that in his pants without you even touching him. Neither of you are sure if it's normal, but he always seems embarrassed by it, so you don't dwell on it, either.
He lies back, resting his head atop a feather pillow.
You curl against his side, resting a small hand atop his chest, which he takes in one of his own.
"I love you," he whispers. "My niece."
You smile, closing your eyes, feeling content for the first time since leaving King's Landing. "I love you, too, Uncle Aemond."
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When you wake, it's dark and you're alone in bed, Aemond's side now empty and cold.
You rise with bleary eyes, yawning, wanting to go in search of him.
He wouldn't have gone back to his chambers, would he? He'd told you he would stay. This was to be your one night together to talk and laugh and enjoy each other's company before being ripped apart again.
You shrug on a small robe, padding over to the door, trying to remember which way he'd said his room was.
Until you see people rushing past you in a frenzy.
And then one of your mother's handmaids spots you. "Princess," she says, voice breathless. "Come, your household has been summoned to the Great Hall."
She takes your hand in hers, leading you that way.
"Where's momma?" You ask quietly. "What's happening?"
"All will be well, Princess," is all the reply she gives.
You wish Aemond were here. You're sure he would know. He always knows. About everything.
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There is much commotion when you enter the Great Hall—many familiar faces present: Queen Alicent, your grandsire, Ser Otto, Ser Criston, as well as your brothers.
Your brothers...who have blood on them and seem...frightened. You begin to scan the room in a panic then, and it is only when Queen Alicent steps to the side that you see.
And you let out a scream, many heads turning in your direction, Aemond's own shooting up—only one eye focusing on you.
Tears stream down your cheeks and you cup your hands over your mouth as you head toward him—your feet moving all on their own—until a hand pulls you back.
You look behind you to the Princess Rhaenys, and she merely wraps that same hand around your shoulder, holding you in-place.
"Aemond," you say between sobs and he merely stares back at you without a word.
Your eyes flit to his mother and she meets your gaze briefly before shaking her head, turning back to her son.
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You stand behind your mother, clutching at her skirts, trembling violently, watching as blood oozes from her wrist and onto the floor.
"M-m-mama," you say quietly and Jace wraps an arm around your shoulders, shooshing you.
And then Aemond interrupts the tense silence.
"Do not mourn me, Mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye...but I gained a dragon."
You let out a quiet sob, shrugging off your brother's arm, going to step away from your mother, until Aemond gives a small shake of his head and your steps falter.
He stands, taking his own mother's hand, their household exiting the room.
You stare after him, feeling empty.
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You seat yourself on the balcony outside, a war raging in your young, tired mind.
You do not know who you should be more upset with.
Luke for taking Aemond's eye—or perhaps he, Jace, Baela, and Rhaena altogether for attacking him to begin with.
Aemond for calling you and your siblings bastards. He...he's told you more times than you can count that he loves you. Why would he say such things, then? Even if they are true, he's never used it against you to hurt you before.
But he himself had been hurt. So, mayhaps, that is why. He was merely lashing out. Understandably so.
Queen Alicent for harming mama. But she was angry. Her son has now been permanently disfigured. Mama would do the same for any of you.
This was not how the night was meant to be. Aemond had promised that come the morn, the two of you would break your fasts together, and then give each other a kiss goodbye.
And now...everything is ruined.
You look up then, watching as Vhagar circles the sky above, and you continue to think of him.
Aemond had, for so long, when you were much younger, seemed larger than life to you. He was older, a prince, your uncle. He seemed to know everything when you were little. You'd often toddle around, trailing after him, holding his hand, babbling incoherent nonsense before you knew how to speak, but every word he spoke to you? It was like magic.
His name had been among some of your first words. A shortened version, perhaps—'mend'—but his name, nonetheless.
You might've screamed like an utter brat at the top of your lungs once or twice when you had gone to his chambers as a little girl, when met at the doorway by his Queen Mother telling you he was busy with his lessons and could not have company at the moment. He'd been the only thing in all the world you'd ever pitched a fit or misbehaved over.
As soon as he heard you wailing for him, however, he always came—your sour demeanor quickly changing to that of smiles and giggles.
So him having claimed the largest dragon in all the world? She was meant for him to have.
And to be punished for it, and in such a terrible way... You blame yourself.
If you had been there when your siblings and cousins went to seek vengeance for him rightfully claiming her...you could've stopped things, you're sure.
What you don't know is that Aemond had left you to sleep, simply because he wanted you to have your rest and to be safe incase his plan with Vhagar...did not go accordingly. If you were ever caused harm due to his actions, he'd never forgive himself.
But if he did manage to claim her, he'd wanted to surprise you in the morn by sailing through the skies with you—listening as you laughed and screamed excitedly in his arms. As he promised you that once he was older and bigger, he would take you away, and the two of you would become husband and wife.
You would no longer have to play pretend at it then.
When will he learn...fairytales only ever exist in books.
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Aemond looks behind him—behind Vhagar—as Driftmark grows smaller in the distance and he fills with regret.
He should've met you halfway in the Great Hall. Should've wrapped his arms around you. Should've...should've damned himself further by telling them all what he'd done with you as they slept.
He's sure that with so many bearing witness to such testimonies there would be no other way about it then. Your father would betroth the two of you in an instant—his mother's wishes finally overridden.
But he'd held his tongue, stayed his hand, because she'd suffered enough already—had risked all to find recompense on his behalf as she sliced into your mother's skin with that blade.
He will write to you as soon as he reaches home. Will reassure you of his love for you. Of how he thinks of naught else except you now.
But he does not know, nor you, that such correspondences...will never reach your wanting hands.
Nor yours his.
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dilfscvm · 2 years ago
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Fitzgerald Grant x Female! Reader
Hi! This is my own work, I wrote it and I much don't like to have it posted in other social media flatforms without my permission.
WARNINGS : This contains smut, if you don't like such content please skip it and don't read it. Vulgar words has been used also. Do excuse my grammatical errors and typos, correct me nicely or else I'll block block you. English is not my first language:)) Enjoy reading!<33
Special thanks to the owner of this gif<3
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“I told you to stay away from him!” Fitz yells at you, he's in the pit of rage and you know you just crossed the line.
Making him jealous because you wanted to make him pay at what he did to you a week ago. He thought you got over it, but looks like his naughty wife has a better plan. And that is to make him angry. What's on his mind right now?
I'll get you bend over this dining table, fuck you and breed you.
That's what his brain tells him to do. You're his property, you're his and he doesn't like to share. And you absolutely knew it. That's why you make everything on planned.
"I'm sorry, but you really need to stop working." Fitz firmly stated, you're shocked at his sudden statement.
"W-what?" you scoffed.
"I said... I want you to stop working." he repeats as he slowly strode over you, like a lion ready to attack its prey. His eyes tells he craves. You stumped in front of him, face to face, nose almost touched. Eyes raged.
"I. Won't. Stop. Working." you said what is to be said, "I love my work, Fitz, I love working as a professor and you know how much I love my work and you can't just barge here in my office to tell me to resign and stay with you at the white house and fulfill my duty as a first lady. How did you get in here anyways?"
"You don't need to know how I get here, what you need to do is to get all your things and sign these resignation papers and let's go at the white House." his frown deepen, but you can see his eyes averting from your eyes to your lips, his breathing getting heavy as you argue with him.
"I won't resign just because you're jealous of my colleague who haven't done anything but to do his job." you continued. He scoff, he backs away a little shaking his head.
"Believe me, you will." and that's the last thing he said before he walks out your office. You stared at the door where he just walked out of, jaw drop, can't believe that your husband can do such things.
Well he's the president of the United States after all.
You're at his birthday party, talking with some guests. Not paying attention at your husband who's been such a attention seeker for you.
Since he made you sign those resignation letter you give him silent treatment that he deserves. He can't just manipulate you just because he's jealous.
“Dance with me?” you heard a voice from your back making you turn around. It's your colleague, the man Fitz don't ever want to see.
“Well why not.” you giggle and took his hand that been waiting for you to take.
You wanted him here. His name is Race, and he's a colleague, a married man but it's a private marriage. Fitz were a fool, he doesn't even let you explain it, and now, you will take advantage of it.
Race lead you to the dance floor where there's already some people who's dancing, including your husband who's with a old lady which you can recognise as the 40th president's wife.
Well watch me turn the tables around, darling.
“So, I bet he still doesn't know.” he smiled at you which you returned with a naughty smirk.
“This is a lesson, he has been fooling himself. You know that I would never cheat on him, I love him too much to break his heart.” you factly stated. He sighs as he slowly sway you, syncing with the music.
“I know that you cheeky minx.” he whisper that makes you both laugh together.
Both of you continued to dance and talk about random things up until Fitz finally notice, well actually you've seen him, he got his eyes on you. Watching you dance with the man he despise right now, and all he wanted to do were to yank you off him and take you right in front of everybody, specially him. You're playing with fire.
“Ma'am if you'll excuse me.” he politely smiles at the woman who nods with a smile. As soon as he turns around, his face contorts into a deep frown, raging eyes glued at you.
He walks with power, greeting every person he walk pass with a smile then immediately turns back into a frown as soon as he looks at you.
“I think that would be great, I like it and I know-”
“Mind if I steal my wife for a while?” firm, and low husky voice. Fitz says as he folds his arms across his chest. His face shows it all. Anger, rage, jealousy... Lust.
Well you were about to say that you like race's idea to surprise his wife for her birthday.
“Why sure, Mr. President.” race politely agrees as he smiled at the man, not paying attention to fitz's face, looking like he's ready to punch him.
Fitz did not waste anymore time as he possessively pull you away from him by your waist. He then pressed his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. Race sealed his lips containing his evil grin. Success.
You on the other hand, didn't give what Fitz wants. You did not kiss him back making him pull inches away from your lips.
“You like him don't you?” Fitz slowly said. You stared at him, slowly, a smile formed in your lips, mocking him. You know it makes him more hungry for you, and you like every bit of it.
Knowing your husband, he loves you so much, he's a very territorial, possessive, and obsessive at you. Well because you're his wife, and he needs you to know it.
“I love you.” you smiled at him. He'll say it back. No matter how he's mad at you. You know he will.
“I...love you too.” he whisper, as he look down on your lips, almost looks ashamed. I know you too well.
“Dining room.” you whisper at him before pulling away to walk out of the room.
“What?” he asks confusedly. His brows knitted, his signature look. You smiled evily, seductively bit your lower lip as you said;
“I know you like it anywhere, baby.”
Fitz is a kinky man, you must declare.
A knowing smirk were now plastered on his face making you giggle.
“Meet you there, baby!” you turned around and walk off.
Did he waste more time? Of course he didn't. He quickly walk off the room full of guest and walk towards dining room, where you waited there. Wearing nothing but a pair of black lingerie and a black stocking.
“Y/N-” his breath caught above his lungs as the view in front of him completely astonished him. “What's all of these?” he asks, as his eyes continue to hungrily Starr at your body up and down.
You hop ontop of the table and crossed your legs. He slowly walk towards you.
“A lesson.” you simply said when he's already standing right in front of you and tries to open your legs.
“A lesson for what?” he looks confused. You smirk and parted your legs, you hooked him with your legs on his hips and forcely pull him using it.
You put a finger on his lips and it just parted for you, “You know what you've done, Fitz, and now I'll teach you.. A.. Lesson.” you lean closer to him, he thought you will kiss him, so he lean forward to reach your lips but you pull back. “Ah, ah, darling... You need to be taught and punished—”
“Screw you.” that's all he got to say before he slam his lips on you, you tried to pull away but you're too intoxicated at his taste and scent. He kissed you hungrily, both hands on either side of your cheeks. Both with heavy breathings, both were panting, and moaning in each others mouths, as their tounge collide, exploring the insides of it adding more heat down your womanhood.
Fitz grab ahold of your stockings and rip it apart making you gasp into his mouth. But keep on kissing him still anyways. He pushed your legs more apart and start to kiss your neck. His hands were now roaming you body, specially down your area.
“F-fuck, Fitz.” you moaned as his kiss went down your cleavage, to your stomach up until he reached where you wanted him to be. He place a kiss on your lingerie, as his eyes stilled on yours.
“You can't punish me. I will punish you... For being such a brat, for ignoring me, for teasing me, you think you'll get away with it? Think again...” he snarled. You scoff at him. He just smirked. That devil smirk he always does when you both on bed. It turns you on.
“Fuck you.” you smile and press your lips on his kissing him ever so roughly as your hand went to his belt and undo it. He slapped your hand away and grab a hold of your ass and yank you off the table and put you on your feet as he turn you around, panting as he retrieve his breath, as well as you. He continue to kiss on your neck as he unbuckle his belt and push his pants down.
“Fuck you, you mean.” he chuckles, he ripped your panties and thrown it on the floor leaving you gasping. There's nothing can make you more turned on than you are now.
He latched his lips again on your neck as you grab ahold of his head pushing him more to it, moaning as you did. Fitz let his mouth open while he teased your hole with the tip of his enormous cock. Confusedly you is when he put his hand tightly on your mouth, but it didn't take long when he rams his cock inside of you with a guttural groan, trying to contain his own sounds.
You swear if he hadn't covered your mouth, you would scream. You never got used to his cock, up until now.
“I will never get tired fucking this sweet, tight pussy of yours, Y/N.” he whisper erotically in your ear, while you left there moaning in his palm, grinding your hips with his as he thrust slow but you can feel the roughness.
“Now tell me, my sweet, does teasing me satisfy you?” he asks as he slowly fastening his thrust, breathing were getting more heavier. You shook your head. “Liar.” he grunts, he let's go of your lips and push you down the table, making you lay your front to it as he grab onto your hips and continue his bruising pace. He pause a little when you began to moan, as much as he wanted to hear it, you must minimise your moans so no guest will get traumatised, “Please do be quiet for me, sweetheart, there's people outside. I don't want them knowing I'm screwing my bratty wife while I have party to be at. Wouldn't want to look disrespectful yeah?” he whispers at your ears. You only nodded, panting. “Good.” he smirk before he bit your ear gently. He then suddenly pushed in roughly making you squeal and him shushing you.
Fitz won't let you dominate him, we'll at least not now. He doesn't have much time for you to tease and edge him. But he will let you do that later, when no one's in the house.
He spread your ass to watch his harden cock penetrate your wet cunt, he couldn't help but whimper looking at the beautiful view. He sure is won't ever get enough of you.
No one can ever make his cock this alive, only you, his wife. You always turn him on even in small things you do. Like the way you walk, you talk, your smell, he gets turned on easily, if it's you who'll make him.
“Fuck, Fitz, I'm close.” you quietly moan, Fitz was too lost in pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pull you against his chest as he thrust up to help you cum for him. He's nearing, as much as he doesn't want this to end, he has visitors to entertain.
“Darling, I'm gonna cum.” he whisper against your skin. His eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows were knitted, pleasure takes over him. “I know you want to cum too. Cum hof me.” he place a kiss on your neck.
“Fitz..” you moan, almost out of breath. His hand went to your breast and squeeze it tightly as he left his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Ah! Fuck!” your walls clamped around his cock that enough to edge him, and leave him moaning as you cum.
“Oh God, you feel so good.” he groans through gritted teeth. He continues to thrust in you as he breed you, filling you with his cum—wait he breeds you?!
“Fitz!” you yell at him. He frowned at you.
“W-what?” he says panting.
“You finished in me!”
Not to be rude but you both talked about having another baby and he said it's not the right time yet to have another one, and you agreed with it.
“So?” he asks confusedly. He's still inside of you, still thrusting very slowly as he just reached his climax. “You're my wife, I have the rights to do so.” he said, he slowly pulls away making you bite your lip. You turn around to face him.
“Yeah, but I thought you don't want another baby yet?” you ask, he sighs and pull you closer to him as he wrap his arms around your hips.
“Jerry's not a baby anymore, he's four—well he'll still remain our baby but I miss having a small human in my arms,” he chuckles. He place a hand on your cheek, a finger in your lips and continues; “I want to have another baby, I know that you also want another but I choosed to deny you. I'm sorry.” he whisper, your eyes were glistening as he rub your cheeks.
“Thank you, and I love you.” you smiled at him, which he returns.
“I love you too.” he says back with a chuckle. You giggle and tiptoed his lips. Kissing him deeply and passionately.
It didn't last long when he lift you up again and sat you on the table before he push you on your back. He pulls away with a smirk dancing on his lips.
“Fitz!” you giggle when he pulls a chair and sat on it before he pulls you by your tighs to the edge of the table. He smirk at you making you part your lips.
“What? I'm hungry.” he teasingly said before burying his head between your tighs leaving you breathless as you throw your head at the back, moaning as you did.
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becauseimanicequeen · 7 months ago
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Up Poompat Appreciation Post
This is inspired by this post by @clairedaring which almost physically hurt me because it's so sad.
Therefore, I'm reporting for duty to gush about Up Poompat for a minute or two (or ten) because I want to and because Up is amazing and deserves all the praise I can give him.
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There's just something about Up that pulls me in. I haven't previously been able to put my finger on it (I'm more of a visual person rather than a verbal one), but I think his portrayal of Ming in My Stand-In clarifies it for me the more I get to see him in it.
It's the way he portrays depth. There's something deeper, something more that goes on beneath the surface of his characters. And he does it again and again. It's most notable for me in Lovely Writer, Hoon Payon, and Step By Step, which are three very different roles.
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And, on the subject of variety. This man can play a multitude of different roles and do it convincingly. It doesn't matter if it's as an introverted writer with a kind heart, an obsessive serial killer, or everything in between. He's believable in all of it. He's just that good.
To think that this loveable cutie in Lovely Writer...
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Is played by the same actor as this frustrating, self-absorbed idiot in Step By Step...
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Which is played by the same actor who portrays this spoiled rich brat who's always pining after what he can never have, and does so convincingly, speaks to Up's versatility.
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(It took me waaaaay too long to find a gif of this particular moment, lol, but I eventually found it here.)
I personally love Up as Ming in My Stand-In (I'm not influenced by the novel, btw) because he's shown over and over again that he can portray a variety of complex characters. And the way he uses contrasts in his acting (I have no idea if there is a technical term for this because I don't know anything about professional acting), the way he has this sweet demeanor at the same time as he delivers the most poisonous line (and, sometimes you don't realize how poisonous that line was until later) is top notch. The same goes for his ability to portray a domestic life with Joe that feels genuine from Ming's side as well (which he did so well in ep 3) at the same time as we know it won't last due to Ming's jealousy (especially around Joe and Sol) and his pining for what he can't have.
Speaking of contrast, there's also the fact that Up was blessed with his angelic face, which just gives me whiplash every time his character turns out to be the complete opposite. He can literally disguise his serial killer tendencies with that angelic face and demeanor and I feel so manipulated (in a good way) when his character's true face is revealed.
And the way he uses his face to portray different emotions and shifts in emotions is amazing.
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And then there's Up. As in, the person behind it all. The Up that actually lives up to his angellike face. The Up that's genuinely sweet and funny (which you can see on his YouTube channel, where he's currently posting videos with Poom but also has a lot of older ones with Kao whom he partnered up with in Lovely Writer). And the Up that sang "You are My Sunshine" in the bts of the second episode of My Stand-In. If that's not endearing as hell, I don't know what is.
This is just a fraction of all the things I love about Up (and I could spend days gushing about his chemistry with everyone he's paired up with and worked with), but since I've already spent two hours on this little post (lol), I'll save that gushing for another day.
Just know that I love Up.
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thatlittlered · 12 days ago
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an almost kiss | celebrimbor
warning(s): afab!reader (use of the word lady), discreet TROP spoilers
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GIF by @suguretos
author's note: this is based on @morganas-pendragons' request for a first kiss, which I turned into an almost kiss because I already technically wrote that and her delicious thoughts on touch-starved brimby... I mean, just look at him
read the rest of "the craft" here
-.-.-
The air is thick from the heat of the forge when you peek inside, expecting to find every smith hard at work, but as the fog clears, only Lord Celebrimbor himself can be seen, completely engrossed in his craft.
 It is a sight.
 You have been inside before, of course, but what could you learn of true creation from a simple visit? Seeing the master Elven-smith at work is a revelation.
 It serves your curiosity to not be discovered, yet guilt eats at you at the thought of taking advantage of his good nature and hospitality to serve your own whims. He looks different here, too, where he is shed of noble duties. The careless roll of his sleeves and his apron serve to remind you that in this little corner of the world, he is nothing but a talented craftsman. A true creator.
 ‘My Lord.’
 The clatter ceases once you make your presence known. A sharp tool you could not possibly think to name rests in his hand, but he quickly lays it aside when he looks at you. The lines of dedication on his face melt away as he smiles.
 ‘My Lady.’
 ‘I am sorry to have startled you.’
 ‘You haven’t.’
 He dares not move, dazed to have you here when he has been absorbed by the very notion of you for hours – days even. It almost makes it seem possible to will his desires into existence. How long need he think about your touch before that too is bestowed upon him? He will offer the time, however long it may be.
 He wonders briefly how he might look to you now. The last member of the House of Fëanor, renowned smith and Lord of Eregion by his own right, caught by surprise and rendered speechless by an offer as simple as your company. You, on the other hand, seem to always be at ease, always drawing nearer.
 ‘I am sorry to disturb your work as well.’
 ‘You aren’t.’
 ‘To disturb you then.’
 ‘Impossible. I was the one to invite you here in the first place, was I not?’
 ‘Oh, but that was an arranged visit. I come now of my own volition, that is an imposition in itself.’
 ‘I only regret that you’ve caught me unprepared and ill-mannered.’
 ‘I don’t believe you could ever be caught ill-mannered, my Lord.’
 ‘Perhaps it is the delight of your presence that ensures it then.’
 His laughter eases the years away from his face and you wish to tell him that. You wish for him to know your thoughts as plainly as they come to you.
 ‘You’ve such a kind and earnest smile, Lord Celebrimbor, as is all else about you. Almost like a warm glow washing over us, akin that of Laurelin itself.’
 He laughs again – bless the Valar! Bless the honey of your mouth and the sharpness of your mind and whatever he has done to earn the gift of your appreciation, of your mere thought to compare him of all elves to the gold tree of Valinor, but oh, curse it too. Curse that he cannot ever find within himself the words to reciprocate, in spite of all the nights he lies awake to thoughts of you.
 How can someone so skilled with a hammer not possess a trace of the skill of the tongue? You must teach him. You must make him worthy of you.
 He watches in silence as you look around. A tentative hand comes to trace the intricate carvings on the furnace.
 ‘Everything in your city seems so carefully crafted.’
 ‘Well, I suppose I have an eye for detail, given my work.’
 ‘Undoubtedly so, but I think it’s much more than just that. It is a labour of great love and dedication to mind such details.’
 ‘A true craftsman recognizes nothing is ever negligible, despite how it may seem. Even from sand, comes glass.’
 ‘What a wise thing to say,’ you turn to him, ‘you truly are most interesting, Lord Celebrimbor.’
 ‘I can only hope to keep up with you, my Lady. You most certainly surpass me in both words and wisdom. Your company is a blessing.’
 ‘As is yours.’
 Your hand is a comfort unlike any other when it reaches for him. He has not been touched in eons, but even if he had, it would not compare. His own hands are filthy with remnants of his work and it brings him shame to dirty such pristine skin. The Valar must have loved you as well, for they, superior creators as they are, ensured your beauty would reach even to your fingertips.
‘Would you show me what you were working on?’
‘Nothing exciting, I fear. I was only cutting out some pieces of emerald from their cluster.’
 ‘How can that not be exciting? Cutting a brilliant, precious gem from what was but a mere piece of rock not long ago.’
 You see as he does. The beauty of things. Their importance. The dark green rock sits large and proud on his workbench, cleaned of any remnants of the earth that birthed it, yet still a long way from its final form. He senses your enthusiasm in the hesitance with which you approach.
 ‘It is mere jewel-craft. Petty work. I aspire to larger projects now that I’ve been provided with a forge suited for them. I have you to thank for that.’
 ‘Hardly. It was the High King’s wise foresight to recognize that your gifts would be of much use in the fight against evil, and the work of Herald Elrond’s persuasion to make it possible.’
 ‘Ah, Herald Elrond does indeed possess quite the persuasive tongue. It is to be envied.’ And envy it he does, especially so when Elrond visits and spends your shared dinners conversing you whilst he himself can only gaze lovelorn. ‘But, please, do not undermine your contribution. You have been the most insightful of councils. I… I, for one, am glad to have you here.’
 For the first time in the weeks that you have known each other, he finds the nerve to approach you first. Not as your host, but as your… friend. It helps to see you distracted by the ore in front of you, too entranced to notice he is studying you in return.
 ‘Do not worry, it is not fragile. You may touch it if you’d like.’
 Your daring hand springs forth.
 ‘It is beautiful.’
 ‘It will be more valuable once it’s cut.’
 ‘More valuable, perhaps,’ you hum, ‘but not more beautiful. I believe the colour is the same as your eyes.’
 Your honeyed mouth renders the elven-smith incapable of sensible thought. You could ask him to cut off his hand and he would happily oblige you, let you pick the knife even. Anything to draw the praise you so generously give, even though he tends to think his eyes are small and beady and their only possible use is looking at you.
 That is why;
 ‘You should have it then.’
 A breath is released. This is not quite the facile manner of speech he had hoped to master. Foolish, traitorous mind going hand in hand with a foolish, traitorous mouth. You, in all your benevolence, simply blink in surprise. Teach him! Teach him how to speak his love.
 ‘I couldn’t possibly.’
 ‘I’m sure you appreciate it far more than any other would. If you want it, I wish for you to have it.’
 ‘You are so generous, my Lord, but whatever would I do with such an ore? Its beauty is undeniable, but I am no craftsman.’
 It is quite a large rock. Childish embarrassment rushes through him, the kind he has not felt since he was but an elfling apprenticed to his father and found comfort in his arms when he was brought to tears by his uncle’s temper.
 Perhaps being in love is a childlike, vulnerable sentiment in itself.
 ‘A piece then.’
 He does not await your answer. The tool is large and sharp in his talented hands. The piece he cuts is roughly the size of your palm as he presses it inside with reverence.
 ‘There you go.’
 You inspect it with a caress of your lovely finger.
 ‘I can polish it if you’ve changed your mind.’
 ‘No. No, it is perfect just like this.’
 The sunlight is bright and warm as it pours from his window and you take the opportunity to hold the piece up against its rays, revealing hues of forest green. The light reflects off it for a moment, drawing your attention back to Celebrimbor. He, too, looks glorious under the sun’s cast. You wish to study him further. To know all the markings of his face. He wishes it too, so he does not draw back when your feet bring you closer, and allows you to hold up the stone again, this time near his eyes.
 ‘I was right then; they are the same colour.’
 Perhaps being in love is a glorious sentiment instead. The gentle and warm embrace of affectionate words. No one has spoken of his eyes before. No one has come this close either. None but the wind that he can recall. All his memories and senses have been replaced by you, as if he was brought to existence by your meeting.
 All these things, he might never find the words to tell you.
 You do not mind.
 You care only for his kind soul, his emerald eyes and the soft beating of his heart under your palm. Your heads bow together as if in silent communication, foreheads and noses touching so that you might come to breathe the same air. An almost kiss.
 Does he remind you of the gold tree now that your touch has eased the years off his face, and your proximity has once again brought forth the gleeful radiance of his smile? Always, yes.
 An almost kiss, and a joy short-lived when his assistant decides to interrupt you.
 ‘My Lord.’
 You do not fly apart, but separate slowly, painfully instead.
 ‘Thank you, Lord Celebrimbor, for your gift, and for your company.’
 Mirdania lowers her head as you take your leave, perhaps in respect, or, perhaps, in embarrassment. For you, there is none. Not for Celebrimbor either, when he is left gazing at the shadow of you that remains. Her words fall on deaf ears.
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