#not my fault women are stunning

[sunriseverse]

every time my xhs dash has a bts photo set of zrj’s actor i’m like oh…………oui oui je suis un homosexuál par praxis

[syn4k]

"thank you butch lesbians we love you" you're welcome honey we love you too. and anyways someone's gotta dyke this place up faggot style and that someone is me with my he/they/she swag and shaved head and beautiful wife

[gxlden-angels]

Your girl calling me Abraham the way I stay sacrificing my children to her

[spider-stark]

PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

The delicious aroma of roast mutton is wafting over you as you pass one of the many long serving tables lining the walls of the ballroom. Your gaze drags along the vast spread that has been prepared for tonight; a variety of artisan breads, cooked meats, and candied desserts are laid out upon silver serving dishes. 

As you reach the end of the first table, a pile of lemon cakes snag your attention. Neatly stacked atop an ornate porcelain platter, the cakes are coated in a thin glaze that shimmers in the light. Your mouth instantly begins watering at the sight, your stomach growling in a way that would be deemed improper for a Lady. 

Beside you, holding a plate that has been loaded with mashed potatoes and honeyed chicken, Jace turns his head to cock a brow at you.

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly. 

You suck in a deep breath before forcefully tearing your gaze from the cakes. “Extremely.” 

It takes an enormous amount of will power to turn away from the serving table while still empty-handed, but you somehow manage to do just that. Having hardly even walked a few steps, though, Jace is abandoning his plate to rush after you, softly seizing your wrist to keep you from moving any further. 

“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.” 

His concern is obvious, not only through his tone, but his expression as well. With his furrowed brow and tight-mouthed frown, you’re fairly certain that he’s already considering the consequences of dragging you back to the table and feeding you himself if need be. 

Jace had always been that way—not only with you, but with everyone. He was kind hearted and considerate to fault. 

“I would,” you smile, shaking your head slightly to dismiss his concern, “but I’m afraid that if I do, I might very well pop right on out of this ridiculously tight corset.” 

You wave an idle hand down to your waist, unnaturally cinched by the intricate lacing and boning of the garment beneath your evergreen gown. His eyes follow the motion, tracing along the intense curve, lingering for a moment too long. 

The explanation seems to wash away much of his concern, relieved to know that discomfort was the only reason you had chosen to abstain from the treats being served. Even so, a touch of empathy remains, accompanied by the faintest hint of desire gleaming in his amber gaze. 

Amber—an unusual color for a boy of Velaryon blood. His eyes were one of the many reasons that your mother, the Queen Alicent, felt so confident in labeling Princess Rhaenyra’s boys as bastards behind closed doors. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that there was likely truth to her claims. Your nephews probably were bastards—but you didn’t particularly care. 

Jace was nice to you, and that was all that had ever mattered to you. 

He clears his throat, realizing that he had been gawking at your body for far longer than he should. “It looks uncomfortable,” the words spill out without permission, and you nearly laugh when his eyes go wide. “That didn’t come out right, nothing about it actually looks uncomfortable—it looks stunning! I mean, you look stunning! It’s just that, I don’t know, I imagine that having something squeeze you so tightly might be-” 

“Jace, it’s okay! Truly,” you interrupt his rambling with a soft giggle. “You should know that I’m not so easily offended,” you playfully chide. “Besides, you’re right. It is quite uncomfortable!” 

Actually, quite felt like an enormous understatement. But you didn’t figure that Jace was particularly interested in hearing about how your breasts were aching from being roughly shoved up by the tight garment. 

Jace looses a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Then why bother wearing them? Many noble-women go without corsets. Even my mother hardly ever wears one—she believes they’re vile things that only aid in the objectification of ladies.” 

Your brows rise, agreeing with the claims of your half-sister. But then you let your attention shift to the dais, meeting the rough stare of the reason why you had been forced into the tortuous garb—your mother. 

She’s already watching you when you meet her eye, her lip curled as she sends you a pointed look, silently urging you away from your nephew. It takes a great deal of effort not to shrink beneath the weight of her attention, and you’re beyond grateful for the group of women who shuffle past you towards the dance floor, giving you an excuse to break the hold she has on you. 

“I wear it because my mother wishes for all of her children to look their best,” you answer, shifting your focus back onto Jace. “And who am I to disappoint the Queen?” 

He notes the sudden callousness of your tone, as well as the way you clasp your hands together at your waist, fidgeting with the golden ring on your index finger. He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, however, knowing well enough that you were not—and already knowing why, as well. 

You imagine that Jace doesn’t much like your mother; both for her part in the rumors spread about him and his brothers and for the way she has treated his mother. 

It makes you upset in a strange way, a part of you always wishing to defend the Queen, no matter how abhorrent her actions. After all, she was your mother—whether you like it or not—and you knew very well that if someone were to try to hurt you or your siblings, then she would gladly lay her life on the line for you. 

You were thankful for her; even if her protection hurt, even if her maternal love only exists when your life is at stake.  

“Speaking of your siblings,” Jace suddenly notes, veering slightly off-subject as his own stare drifts towards the dais, “how did Aegon manage to weasel his way out of attending tonight?” 

Your brows snap together before letting your head snap back towards the dais, managing to avoid your mother’s nasty stare this time by looking to her right, taking note of each of your siblings. 

Aemond is sat directly by her side, his posture rigid as his eye scans across the room, alert and on-guard as usual. Next to him is Helaena, leisurely picking at her plate of food and mindlessly bobbing her head along to the symphony being played for court musicians. Daeron, who your mother insisted fly Tessarion here from Oldtown so that he might be present for tonight, is sat next to your empty chair, making idle chatter with those around him. 

But Aegon’s chair, sat between yours and Helaena’s, is vacant. 

A knot forms in your stomach when you look back at Aemond, his piercing violet eye catching yours, gleaming with a silent order—find our imbecile brother before he makes a fool of us all. 

You give him a curt nod before looking away, head whirling as you begin searching the crowd around you for any sign of your eldest brother. 

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.” 

Jace hums his understanding as you politely excuse yourself, turning away from him to begin shoving through the throng of people filling the room. 

You decline invitations to dance and spout excuses as to why you can’t stop to chat as you push past noblemen-and-women from various Houses, trying to maintain the pleasant persona your mother favored while still moving fast enough that you might find Aegon before he finds any new ways to publicly bring shame upon the Targaryen name.  

It’s exhausting work—and by the time you have shoved yourself to the other end of the room without finding him, you nearly consider giving up. Your chest hurts and your scalp is itching from being poked and prodded by a dozen or so pins, all of which had been meticulously placed by servants to arrange plaits into a fanciful half-updo. 

In many ways, you look like your mother; with your elaborate hairstyle and green dress, the look is tied together by a pendant of the Seven-Pointed Star dangling from your neck. 

And, in many ways, you hate it. 

Much to the Queen’s dismay, you’ve never much liked the elegant styles preferred by many women at court. No, instead you spent much of your time donning mail with your hair lazily pulled back, joining Aemond for practice in the training yard. 

She hated how unrefined you were, how indelicate you were; fearful for how others at court might view you for it, for how much attention you might draw to yourself. 

You blow out a sigh, resisting the urge to pull all of the pins from your hair as you will yourself to keep walking, to keep looking for Aegon. A table overflowing with carafes of arbor wine and flagons of ale catches your attention, setting off alarm bells in your mind. 

If Aegon were going to choose anywhere to hide at this godsforsaken ball, then it would certainly be in close proximity to the alcohol. 

A cacophony of laughter and clinking goblets surrounds you as you approach, scanning over rows of bottles and skimming the faces of those nearby. Spinning your ring on your finger, you walk along the entire length of the long serving table, disappointed when you reach the end of it and find that your brother is still nowhere in sight. 

Chewing on your cheek, you fight the urge to pour yourself a drink when you notice a carafe of blackberry wine. The plum colored liquid seems to call your name, singing promises of sweet oblivion, an escape from the restless feeling clawing at your chest. 

You’re out of place here in court, and you always have been—you know that, and you worry that everyone around you knows, too. 

Sensical enough to recognize that alcohol would likely just exacerbate your current ill-feelings, you shun the carafe and turn towards the grand entrance. Lifting your chin and squaring your shoulders, you try to appear more composed than you feel as you saunter towards the large wooden doors. 

If Aegon had snuck off with one of the serving girls, then there was a good chance that he was still somewhere in the hall, either flirting or feeling up their skirts. And, if you were wrong, then at least he had provided you with an excuse to slip away from this mess of a ball. 

As you pass by the last serving table, the platters and dishes atop it already thoroughly picked over, you feel someone tug at your dress. You whirl around, a fiery retort already falling off your tongue, fully intending to rip into whoever had found the audacity to touch you without permission—only to find yourself insulting the air. 

There was no one there, at least not close enough to have touched you. 

For a heartbeat you begin to reel, wondering if you’ve started to lose your mind before feeling the sensation again. A sharp tug at the fabric, just by your knee. Your head snaps down towards your dress, covering your mouth before a gasp can slip your lips. 

An arm is peeking out from beneath one of the finely embellished tablecloths, and a well-groomed hand is clutching your skirts. You instantly recognize the hand as Aegon’s, having become intimately familiar with your brother’s touch throughout your life. 

Taking a step closer to the covered table, you try to look natural as you hunch over it slightly to get closer to his level, feigning an interest in a half-eaten roast duck. 

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Aegon?!” Your voice is hushed, not quite a whisper, but low enough so that no one other than him might hear. 

Releasing his hold on your skirts, Aegon lifts the tablecloth a little higher, revealing his face. “Get under here,” he tilts his head, motioning for you to join him beneath the table. 

“No!” 

He swiftly presses a finger to his lips in response to your incredulous shout, shushing you. You stiffen, nervously flicking your eyes to each side, checking to ensure that no one had heard you. Fortunately, the courtiers around you appear far too invested in their conversations and drinks to notice how you appear to have shouted at a roast duck. 

Aegon’s lilac eyes are wide, pleading as he shoves the tablecloth up higher, giving you more room to slip beneath it. “Would you just shut up and come?” 

It’s the sheer urgency of his tone that piques your interest, although you wish that it hadn’t. You huff out an annoyed sigh, taking another look around the room before gathering up your skirts and sinking to your knees, crawling underneath the table. 

Once you’ve successfully sat down beside him on the stone floor, he drops the cloth, shielding the two of you from any prying eyes. The material is thin enough that it allows some light to pass through it, very dimly illuminated Aegon’s grinning face, all urgency having suddenly vanished. 

“Welcome,” he almost sounds breathless, the word airy—and utterly unnecessary. 

You can faintly see the rosy coloring of his cheeks, a few messy silver waves tumbling across his face, and you’re immediately willing to bet that he’s extremely buzzed. “What are you doing, Aeg?” 

Your tone is firm, but there’s a certain gentleness to it that was specially reserved for your eldest brother. While you maintain that you love all three of them equally, it’s undeniable that your relationship with Aegon has always been… different. 

He reaches to his side, lifting a carafe from the ground beside him. “Having a party,” he says, raising it towards your face and playfully swirling the garnet colored liquid. 

“I’m unsure if you’re aware,” you motion towards the cloth shrouding you from the bustling ballroom, “but our mother has already planned quite the celebration for tonight—and she likely does not wish for it to be ruined by her drunkard son ducking beneath tables like an imbecile!” 

Aegon pokes his bottom lip out into a pout. “Why must you assume that I am drunk?” 

“Because you’re you,” you drone, cocking your head at him, “and you are always drunk.” 

Rolling his eyes, he sits the carafe down on the ground between you. There are only mere inches separating the two of you, both of you squeezing your limbs close to your body to avoid having a foot peek out from beneath the table. Sitting this close to him, you can smell the sweetness of the arbor red of his breath—as well as the faintest hint of sulfur, a sign that he had clearly gone riding on Sunfyre earlier and had failed at washing off the dragon’s strong scent. 

You take another breath, inhaling the smell of him into your lungs. It was familiar—comfortable, urging your taut muscles to slacken in his presence. 

“And what if I told you that I am sober right now?” 

A snort escapes you, sparing him an incredulous look. “Then I would call you a liar,” you tell him, tapping a finger against the rim of the half-empty carafe. 

His stare drops down towards it, watching as the liquid ripples when you pull your hand back. When he looks back up, he’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Mostly sober, then.” 

It’s nearly impossible to stifle your laugh, clamping a hand over your mouth so that you might muffle the sound and prevent passersby from becoming suspicious. The sound only makes his smile grow wider and more genuine, an expression that he graced very few people with. 

“I’ll ask again,” you say, speaking only when you're confident that no more laughter will tumble out. “Why are you down here? If mother finds out then she will be furious and-” 

Aegon tosses his head back, cutting you off with a groan. “Mother will be furious no matter what,” 

Disdain drips from each syllable, thickening the air around you. He didn’t like talking about her much, and you couldn’t blame him for it. Of all your siblings, Aegon had been dealt the worst hand, simply by being born first. He got the brunt of your mothers vile behavior; and you hated that, too. 

“Because,” lazily rolling his neck so that he can look at you again, he answers, “I’d rather spend my night under here,” he flicks a hand up, lazily gesturing around himself, “than be forced to sit through even one more tedious speech from some ancient Lord of gods-know-where!” 

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh. 

“And,” he continues, nodding in your direction, “I am now saving you from the same mundane fate. You’re welcome.” 

“What makes you think that I needed your saving?” You ask, brows rising. 

Aegon purses his lips, placing a finger against his chin as he feigns contemplation, studying the intricate styling of your hair, the modest long-sleeved gown, and the Star resting against your covered breasts. “Perhaps it was that our mother has you dressed up as though you’re an aspiring Septa.” 

Thinking of the plain women, with their simple gowns and traditional head coverings, you nearly laugh again as you ask, “How many Septa’s do you know that wear corsets and jewelry, brother?” 

“None,” he admits, shoulders lifting into an indolent shrug. “Though, if they looked more like you, then I might finally have a reason to attend prayer. Beautiful women would be more than enough to turn me into a pious man.” 

A warmth creeps up your neck as blood rushes to your cheeks, unsure if his statement was meant as a compliment—was he saying that he found you beautiful? If so, it shouldn’t have been a particularly shocking revelation. After all, Aegon had complimented you before, many times. 

In all fairness, however, most of those times had been when he was thoroughly besotted. He had a habit of sneaking into your rooms and practically draping himself off of you, muttering drunken nonsense about how breathtaking you were. You had never placed much truth in the statements though, assuming that Aegon likely didn’t even recognize who he was speaking to, much less whose bed he had crawled into. 

But even if this was a genuine and mostly sober attempt at complimenting you, the flattery of it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Your own insecurity washes back over you far quicker than you like, reminding you of just how unlike yourself you currently feel. 

“I do not believe that anything would be capable of turning you into a pious man,” you joke, trying and failing to cover up the melancholy that has settled into your bones. “Not even beautiful women.” 

“You could.” 

The answer comes far too quick, spilling from his tongue with an eagerness that even seems to catch him by surprise. 

“Though, I must say, for as exquisite as this dress makes you look,” his hand reaches across the short expanse dividing you, mindlessly running his fingers along the fabric covering your shoulder, “I much prefer the way look in armor—sweaty skin, messy hair, sword in-hand—all of it.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch drifts towards the center of your chest, fingers dragging along the thin chain leading to your pendant, lifting the Star into his palm. He stares at it for a moment before yanking it roughly from your neck, grinning when you yelp. “But this,” he lifts the Seven-Pointed Star slightly, “I absolutely hate.” 

With that, he tosses it from underneath the table, sending it skittering across the floor beyond the tablecloth. 

Your jaw drops open, a hand pressed against the now-sore spot along the back of your neck. Despite yourself, your lips start to curve into a playful smile. You try fighting against it, try pressing them into a firm line, but fail. “Mother will not be happy about that-” 

“She’s never happy,” Aegon interjects. His own expression shifts, the line on his forehead deepening as he says, “Do not let yourself bear her misery. Life is too short—and you deserve more than that.” 

A palpable silence is thickening the air, and your breathing seems to synchronize as you simply stare at one another. 

Slowly, nervously, you say, “I’m not sure what it is that I deserve,” 

“You deserve,” he pauses, lips still parted despite the absence of speech. Then, swallowing back the words that had been building in his throat, he says, “you deserve whatever it is that you want, sister.” 

Your hand falls from your neck into your lap, and you avert your gaze, watching your fingers as they fidget with your ring. “And what if I do not know what I want?” 

Once, you had thought that you wanted a life like Jaces. A happy life, with a mother that knew how to love you and siblings that hadn’t been raised in fear of their half-sister ascending the throne, taught that their very existence was a threat to her power. But, suddenly, you felt as though you were no longer sure. 

Aegon hesitates, watching you carefully. His lilac eyes appear as though they’re searching for something within your own—a hint of recognition, or reciprocation. If he found what he was looking for, then you were unaware. “Then you’ll figure it out,” he sighs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “You have all the time in the world to decide.” 

There is something reassuring about his statement, making it resonate with you in a way that you hadn’t expected. You look up, holding his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, and you almost swear that you can see it—the silent invitation, the plea to delve deeper into his words, to decipher exactly what it was that he was promising you. 

You have all the time in the world—all the time in the world to decide if he might ever be something you want. 

Suddenly you find yourself dancing on the edge of a precipice, chest tightening as you grapple with the idea that, maybe, something more might exist between you and Aegon. 

That, maybe, he had always known who he was complimenting and what bed he was slipping into. 

That, for him, it had always been you. 

“Aegon, I-” 

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you have a chance to say something that he fears you may regret. Then, sliding the carafe between you to the side, he scoots closer. “If you plan on staying under my table,” he teases, clearing his throat, “then we need to do something about your hair.” 

“I thought you said I looked exquisite?” You stay still as he starts toying with the strands, trying to swallow the tumult of your own emotions. 

Aegon’s plucking various pins from your hair, tossing them to the ground. “Yes, but I also said that I prefer your hair when it’s messy. It’s more…” he sucks in a breath, unable to hide the admiration swelling in his chest when he finally exhales, “you.” 

Your cheeks are burning hot, and you’re suddenly very thankful for the lack of light around you. On instinct, you almost tell him how your mother wouldn’t agree—but then you think better of it. 

“You’re… generous.” 

Something about your voice sounds foreign in your ears. You sound nervous—and you’re not used to feeling nervous around Aegon. 

His fingers are combing through the plaits forming your updo, his brow drawn taut, framing his lilac eyes, shining bright with concentration. “Generous,” he snorts softly, nails raking lightly against your scalp as he shakes the strands loose, “I don’t hear that one often.” 

“Well perhaps you’d hear it more if you weren’t such an ass,” you shoot back, slowly trying to slip back into your usual self. 

“Me? An ass?” He’s untangled the final braid, scooting away from you slightly now as he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Never.” 

Now falling in loose waves, free of those incessant pins, you brush your hair over your shoulder. “Just earlier I heard you telling Lord Grover that if wisdom were measured in wrinkles that he would be named Grand Maester.” You point out, unable to mask your amusement while recalling the old man’s shocked expression. 

“Is it not true?” Aegon smirks. “The man is nearly seventy, and his age certainly shows.” 

“Lord Grover is only two-and-fifty, brother.” 

His brows shoot up, gaping at you. “Tell me that you’re not serious!” When you nod, confirming that you are, he sucks his teeth. “Wow—how unfortunate. He looks positively dreadful for his age, then. I thought that he surely had one foot in the grave by now.” 

“Aegon!” You rebuke through your own sputtered laughter, shaking your head at his insolence. “See? This is what I was talking about! If you weren’t so crude then you might get more compliments.” 

Swinging his arm back to grab for the carafe, Aegon’s nose scrunches slightly. “Why bother?” He implores, a hint of mischief in his tone. “My crudeness is what you like most about me, is it not? Without it, dear sister, your life would be quite boring.” 

Just before he brings the carafe to his lips, he inclines his head towards the tablecloth, emphasizing his words. A reminder—that, without him, you would still be out there, sitting miserably amongst your siblings and being forced to dance with Lord’s twice your age. 

There was something more beneath the veil of humor and arrogance, however. A craving that had him tipping the carafe back, hoping that the stinging of the alcohol might numb his gnawing desire for validation—to hear you say that you yes, my life would be boring without you. 

“I suppose you’re right,” the admission has him pausing, the carafe lingering against his bottom lip. “Truth be told, I had never put much thought into it before, but you do have a way of keeping life interesting, Aeg. So, I must agree that, without you, my life would be positively dreadful.” Staring at the ground in-between you, you smile before adding, “After all, who else would be able to convince me to risk our mother’s scorn and crawl beneath a table to drink wine and fix my hair?” 

There’s a slight tremor in his voice when he speaks, trying to mask the warmth swelling in his chest, “You have yet to drink a single drop.” 

“Then I suppose that is the next thing you’ll have to fix,” you say, sticking your hand out towards him, urging him to pass you the carafe. He hands it to you while biting back a grin. 

“Careful,” he warns, “drink too much and you may end up like your drunkard brother.” 

“I don't mind,” You mirror his expression, your own lips curving as you raise the glass upwards, the strong scent of the arbor red stinging your nostrils. “I quite like my drunkard brother.” 

His gaze burns against your flesh as you tilt your head back, allowing the alcohol to slip over your tongue, and you suddenly realize that you are no longer standing on the edge of that precipice. 

You’re falling.

a/n - i was honestly just thinking about jude and cardan hiding under a table in the cruel prince and ended up with this? so yeah, definitely inspired by jurdan content (but y'know... no coup d'etat lmao).

[lxnarphase]

OKAY…here’s a 2AM thought…….jjk men and you in a sundress 😙👓🤏 oohhhh they’d go absolutely FERAL LUNAR !!! RAAAHHHHHH and if they were chubby reader…oh my god…they’re all PERVS actually . um..special mention: choso, nanami..u cant change my mind. They’d absolutely want to fuck/eat you out in it. The way it stops just a liiiittlleee below your ass..mhm..maybe they wouldn’t want anyone else seeing you in it, I fear. maybe you don’t even reach the door before they stop you..

- 🧸 (hope uve been good ! it’s been a while ^^)

✮₊‧⁺...lunar's note: hi teddy i have missed you oh-so much my beloved !! i wasn't sure if we are talking like actual sundresses or the bodycon 'sundresses' but i worked with it :3cc don't mind me throwing in satoru i couldn't help it

✮₊‧⁺...content: fem!reader, pussy eating, semi-public sex, pervy men, clothed sex, dirty talk, it gets a bit silly during satoru's piece but he's a freak what do you expect

✧ k. choso ↴

choso jumped on you the second you came out of the bathroom in the dress, the thin straps showing your shoulders, and your legs were so pretty and shiny from that sparkly lotion you used; what else was he supposed to do? let you walk outside and have other men and women look at you?! absolutely not! so instead, he had you on your back, his hands holding yours as he desperately fucked into you, doing his best to glare down at you as if this whole situation was your fault. "you...you're too beautiful for y-your own good," he groans, the wet slap of his hips against yours filling the room. "too fucking beautiful, just wanna...wanna fuck you like this every time before we go out, make you all soft and warm inside just for me." his eyes are locked on your face, taking in every part of your expression—the embarrassment on your face, the slight parting of your plush lips, the flutter of your eyelashes. it's almost too much for him. you keen his name when a subtle shift has him pressing deeper inside, unable to keep your hips from rolling with his thrusts. "c-choso, d-don't talk like that, it's embarrassing," you whine as you squeeze his hands when you feel his tip brush against something that makes you melt. choso's eyes get sharper as he hones in on that reaction, doing his best to thrust right against that spot again and again and again. "nononono, please? tell me you like it, t-tell me you love hearing how much you turn me on, how perfect y-your cunt feel wrapped around me. please, baby, for me, need to know so badly," he whines back to you, leaning down to nip, lick, and suck on your bottom lip, desperate to hear you repeat those words back to him. so much for making it to brunch on time.

✧ n. kento ↴

you wouldn't expect kento to get so wound up from such a simple dress. nor did you expect him to tug you away to the bathroom in the middle of the luncheon he brought you to. yet, here you are, one hand over your mouth while the other holds up the soft, flowy fabric of your yellow sundress while kento sloppily kissed, sucked, and slurped on your pussy. it shouldn't be so hot, but when he looks up at you, his brows furrowed as he devours you... "fuck, kento, w-what the hell," you whine, hips grinding into his mouth. "shh, hun, don't get too loud," he hushes as if he's not overwhelmed by the taste of you or by the sounds of your soft muffled noises filling the room. he couldn't help himself from getting hot and bothered, not after seeing his gorgeous girl walking around in this stunning dress. was it the dress? or was the fact it was on you? he can't think straight enough to give himself an answer, his tongue delving deeper as he sucks and kisses your soft folds like a man starved. "you're so pretty," he sighs against you, sounding so in love. nanami's merciless as he works you over with his hot mouth, his tongue delving into your slick folds, circling your clit with precision. your hips buck against his face, mouth opening just as you're about to tell him you're getting close, to give you more, that you wanted to cum...and then someone knocks on the door, making him pause. "yoo-hoo, nanaminnn, where'd you go? we're lookin' for you and your girlfriend, it's dessert time!" gojo. of course. "kento, please let me kill him, i'm begging you." "and let you have all the fun? not a chance."

✧ g. satoru ↴

oh, satoru doesn't even let you get out the door when you try to tell him that thing is a sundress. it was too tight, too short to be a sundress! his head whipped between you and the picture of the pretty, flowy dress on his phone. yeah, no, no one else was going to see you in that dress that was hugging your hips so perfectly, or the way he could see how your tummy pressed against the front... so, it shouldn't be a surprise when he all but bunches it up on your waist and smushes his face into your clothed cunt and sniffs. "satoru, you pervert!" you try to scold him, face on fire as your hands tug at his hair to get him away from being so bold. but he just whines, nipping your inner thighs. "don't push me away, let me kiss her!" just the smell of you had him groaning, cock hard in his sweatpants. and you planned to go outside without him in this tiny thing, leaving him all horny and needy?! no way in hell was he letting that happen. soon, your panties are wet and soaked from his messy mouth pressing against them because the impatient man couldn't be bothered to tug them to the side. the lewd, wet sounds of his mouth working against you fill the room, mixing with your embarrassed sighs and gasps. "s-satoru, just take my panties off, t-this, mmh, is gross," you weakly pout before squealing when he sucked right on your clit. he was such an asshole... "she's so cute, such a cute pussy. you were gonna go out in this tiny thing without lettin' me give both my girls kisses? such a meanie," he whines, swirling his tongue around your clit through the fabric, his hands pulling your hips closer to his face. "what if your dress slipped up and people saw this cunt, hm? 'm never lettin' you go outside again, you can wear all your cute outfits and just sit on my face 'til i die." "y-you're so nasty, satoru..."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[goldenstring6123]

Hello! LADS boys with muscular fem s/o who can carry heavy stuff especially carrying them with no struggle at all just like Mikasa from aot hehe (I saw gym tiktok girl who can carry an adult man with one arm☠️)

Lnds: Muscle Mommy

Warning: F!reader, AFAB!reader, reader is not the mc, muscular!reader,

Author's notes: I'm a sucker for muscle women. Everytime i see one on my reels and my tiktok i just go 🙈🙈🙈

Zayne:

Zayne was more than happy to see you be so conscious of your health, and quite frankly, it was one of the strong points of your relationship. Even going to the gym would be considered a date for both of you. He's seen your body plenty of times as well, and he knows how toned you are and how you can handle doing heavy stuff most of the time.

But in reality, Zayne has no idea what you're capable of. Not until he passed out from drinking too much at a hospital dinner. It was surprising for you as well since Zayne knew how to moderate his alcohol intake; the night was probably an exception. People were quite worried when a 5-foot-something girl came to pick up the surgeon because you looked like you would topple under his weight.

You wanted to prove them wrong, and so you mounted him on your back easily like you would a child. The drunken crowd cheered you on while some of the girls really asked if you would be okay. You gave them a thumbs-up and a grin before heading back to Zayne's car. They were utterly impressed with what they saw, and some of them even followed you to the parking lot in case you fell over.

Again, as if they'd never seen anything like it, they were shocked to see you tuck him into the car too easily.

When Zayne woke up, he was more than surprised to see himself in his bed. When he went to check his phone, his messages were bombarded with Yvonne and Grayson sending him pictures. He turned red at the sight—he was on your back, and you were giving the camera that thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

"Oh, wow, I wish I had a lover who can do that…You're one lucky man, Dr. Zayne," Grayson said.

When you entered the bedroom in your running attire, sports bra, and cycling shorts with high socks, his eyes stared at your stomach and your arms like how a woman would check out a gym rat. He turned redder and redder as if he was slowly being enlightened with a new realization.

You, oblivious to his thoughts, thought that he was red simply because he was hungover. Luckily, there was some medicine in the plastic bag you were holding.

Xavier:

Xavier thought you were cute, and he found it admirable how you could keep up with his daily training regimen when it was made specifically for him by the hunters' association. He didn't think much of it, and if anything, he was more than impressed and happy that you could keep up. He thought not much of it until he happened to see you downtown.

Beside you was an older lady, small and shriveled up—beside her were boxes and boxes of what seemed to be groceries. From the looks of it, she lived in an apartment that was a few stairs above, and it looked like no one was willing to help her. He was about to approach you, but he was appalled when you threw two sacks of rice on either side of your shoulders.

"Granny, I'll help you out," you said to the elder with a smile. Passersby were staring, especially that old bakery owner who happened to stay outside and witness it all as well. You climbed up the stairs like you just had pillows over your shoulders. Xavier watched you from afar, indulging himself as he saw your arms and thighs bulge while you went back and forth to pick up the groceries.

It wasn't until there were two boxes left that Xavier snapped out of his prolonged trance. He approached you both and carried the remaining boxes. You were glistening with sweat, which further accentuated your muscles.

In his eyes, you looked absolutely stunning, and it was at that realization that something in him welled. Desire? He wasn't sure, but it was…something.

It was his fault he didn't dwell too much on your ability to keep up, but now he does.

It was a…mind-blowing realization.

Maybe he'll ask you to spar with him next time.

Rafayel:

It was very, very convenient and interesting for Rafayel.

Every time you were doing mundane things with him, he would ogle at your body. Those bulging biceps and quads enchanted him for some reason, and it was like he was a depraved woman craving to be touched. You weren't oblivious to this, either. You could feel his gaze every time you did something not even worth noting, but over time, you got used to it.

It was convenient for Rafayel because he could get you to do stuff he would have a hard time doing. For example, Rafayel was a clumsy man; more often than not, his floors would have splashes of paint and chemicals. This time, he accidentally kicked a bucket of paint, and it bled and spread to the underside of a sofa. He called for you and told you to use a mop, but since he was holding it, you decided to lift one side of the couch instead—with one hand.

He stared. He was staring like he was looking at a piece of art. "Uh, Raf? The mop."

"Oh! Uh, yeah, yeah," He snapped out of it and began mopping the paint. You moved on to a big potted plant beside the couch, and Rafayel didn't protest, seeing you pick it up with ease. To say that he was impressed was quite an understatement.

There was this one time when he had a whole human-sized block of plaster of Paris outside his doorstep, and only a single man was hauling it inside. It was pure coincidence that you were there to pick something up. Instead, you dropped your bag and took off your black shirt (to avoid getting white powder on it), revealing your well-chiseled abs. The man ogled at it, and Rafayel called for his attention, feeling a very strong tinge of jealousy. Together, you and he hauled it inside his house and into his studio.

When there was nothing to do, Rafayel would use you as his model. You could be sitting and reading a book, and Rafayel would be sketching away, perfectly capturing every curve. Sometimes, you would sit on a stool for hours and flex because, according to him, "You have the form of a goddess."

Well, you weren't complaining. It felt good being admired so much because you chose a healthy lifestyle, and admittedly, it felt good seeing your boyfriend ogle over your body.

Sylus:

Sylus doesn't know what you're really capable of.

Sure, you were sporty, and even if you were inclined to do mixed martial arts rather than boxing, you made a good sparring partner. Regardless, Sylus doesn't want you to get hurt. If anything, you wanted to complain that he babies you too much.

During Sundays, Sylus's form of entertainment is going to underground boxing rings. You went along with him, but rather than placing bets on the broker, you placed bets with each other. There was no money involved but rather something more valuable, ranging from favors to expensive items.

The rounds were progressing well up until it wasn't. Whoever that woman in the ring was devouring each and every one of her opponents, but it was getting boring. And just as you and Sylus were about to leave, the referee called in volunteers as the original player backed out, but bets were already placed on the backer.

You stared at Sylus. He stared, disapproving of your intentions without you even hearing it yet. "You're underestimating me," you glared at him.

"No. That woman fights dirty, and I don't want you bloodied on my bed tonight," Sylus replied.

You didn't listen to him and called for the referee's attention. Sylus clicked his tongue but didn't stop you. The other fighter had that ignorant grin on her face, and you couldn't wait to slam her face to the floor. The people were roaring when you stepped in and did your wrist wrap. Sylus was just behind you. "You sure you can do this?"

"If I win this one, I'll borrow your motorcycle for a month. What do you say?" you snickered.

"You bet too low. Don't underestimate yourself. If you win, I'll give it to you."

"Don't go back on your word, big guy." You placed a kiss on his lips.

Needless to say, you no longer have to take the train to go to work. Sylus, on the other hand, was staring at a picture of you on his phone, the referee holding up your hand while the spotlight was focused on you. He grinned at your triumphant smile.

Sylus expected no less from you.

He knew you were going to win anyway.

Author footnotes: Honestly I have a lot of headcanons for this one because being a musclemommy!reader has the ability to change a lot of things especially with the boys lolol. on another note, I'd probably be like Rafayel when i have a muscular partner. I'd be climbing them up all day everyday.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ taking care of you when you're sick

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma

warnings: none!

join my tag list here! 🪻

The moment you fall sick, DAZAI gets all the more annoying, obnoxious to the core as he whines about how unfair it is that you're sick and he's not — translating to “that you don't have to go to work and he does”. He might just use your sickness as an excuse to stay at home himself; after all, when you're in this critical of a condition, he has to be by your side at all times, right? Just in case of an emergency. Surely Kunikida and the President agree.

Taking care of others or even of himself isn't what he's particularly good at, though he will pretend to be absolutely certain about cuddling being a certain cure for any illness. If you threaten to give him the cold shoulder otherwise, he'll also go to the pharmacy and buy you medication, though he will either complain about it, or he'll play it up to be his God-given mission to save his stunning girlfriend's life.

“Hm? What do you mean, bella? Of course I've got the President's 'okay' for staying at home. Taking care of you is most important, after all, don't you agree? .. Don't be mean, I am taking care of you. I made you tea just now, didn't I?"

CHŪYA really doesn't like it whenever you're sick. While he's faced a handful of way more threatening situations before, he can't help but worry when you whine about your head hurting and your throat aching, about your stomach acting up or your vision blurring. It's not his fault that you're on his mind all day — he just wants you to be well. Is that too much to ask for?

Naturally, that translates to him being awfully good when it comes to him nursing you back to health. He wouldn't describe himself as a natural caretaker, but he is, in a way; he's protective and caring by nature, and he makes sure you're relatively well before he leaves for work every day. You don't just get the best medication on the market, but also energising meals made by him with the help of authentic recipes from elderly women he found online. To not fully lose his image, he half-heartedly complains occasionally, though his words are immediately redeemed by his beaming smile when he notices you're faring better.

“Jeez, that's one annoying cold you've got. It's been, what, like two weeks now and it's still not gone. Whatever. I've found this new soup recipe, though. It looks promising enough, doesn't it? I'll try to make it for dinner.”

RANPO admittedly is rather bad at taking care of you. To be blunt, he much prefers it when you coddle and spoil him, not the other way around, though he tries in his own ways — which mostly include sharing his snacks with you and being near you despite the risk of getting infected himself.

Unfortunately, you're not spared from his usual honesty; when you look downright awful, dark circles underneath your eyes, he will tell you just that. If you flake out on any dates the two of you had planned previously, he will whine, but at least he won't hold a grudge. While he's not particularly committed to being a caretaker, he at least stays by your side and brings you medicine and painkillers.

“You should eat more, y'know. Yes, I know you're nauseous. You've said so about twenty times already. You won't feel any better until you eat and drink enough, though. That's common sense.”

Naturally, FYODOR is more than simply good at taking care of you whenever you fall ill. With his age, it's no wonder that he has quite some experience and knows of many ways to heal you, though some of them might include disgusting homebrewed potions. You're best of just not asking what they're made of if you want to have any chance in downing them.

Unfortunately, his approach to helping you regain your health is more clinical than loving. He takes wonderful care of you, but he's not the type to cuddle with you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you're sneezing and coughing. If you ask sweetly enough, however, he might just read you a bedtime story or two.

“What is it, dear? I was just going to get you a new glass of water. .. Ah, I see. Do you really want me to stay that badly? Alright, then. Though me remaining by your side won't give you an excuse to skip taking your medication.”

It's no surprise whatsoever that NIKOLAI is not the most caring guy, simply put, and he might just tease you about being sick throughout the whole ordeal. He can't help it; you glaring at him, exhausted and sneezing, makes him giggle. Still, he's not all bad — he revels all the more in your surprised expression when he presents you with homemade soup, a family recipe, or so he tells you, and he smiles, content, when you admit that it tastes rather lovely.

With his ability, it's easy for him to get whatever you might need, whether that's food or a cup of tea or a bucket to throw up in, from the kitchen without moving from your bedside, so be prepared to spend quite a lot of time with him in the next few days — or weeks. Though, luckily, he's there to entertain you, not the other way around; when you say you want to curl up and just sleep the sickness off, he'll just keep watch next to you, silent and calm. After all, he does want you to feel better.

“Hmm, what did you say? You like my cooking? I'm honoured, doll! You're too kind! How about a quiz about what I put in there — poison, carrots, red beet, or all three? Ah, not feeling up for it, are you? What a shame. It's all three, if you're curious. I'm just kidding, of course. Don't you worry your pretty little head.”

SIGMA is the best choice for who to go to when ill. Not only is he kind and caring, he's also responsible and organised and, if you follow every step he tells you — eat his home-cooked soup, drink this medicine, sleep for as much as possible, take hot or cold compresses, inhale water with herbal essences —, you'll be at full health again in no time.

Even though he unfortunately can't stay at home all day to be by your side — duties at the casino call, even though he'd much rather not go —, he tries to spend as much time as possible with you, telling you about what has happened that day and how much he looked forward to being home with you again while your eyes flutter closed. When you've almost fallen asleep, his lips gently press against your forehead, even if that means he risks getting sick himself.

“Are you feeling better yet? No? Well, that's to be expected. It's only been a day, after all. I've brought you some more medicine, as well as some soup. Here, give it a taste, will you?”

@chxrry-doll @irethepotato @beandaifuku, @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @C4xcocoa

@black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter-uwu @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat

@yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646nsfw @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @brokeniced @nikolaisdove @dxwnstxr @scinclaitnoir @snips18 @flowzel @satohruu @squigglewigglewoo @rainy-dazie @itzashlyn123 @rheeeeeeeesiees @eggcoreloser @mariaace @mello0cat @warriordemigosworld @thescrunkly @ainegueneres @maroj23 @dazaiserectnips @little-miss-chaoss @saeandscaralover @munch3025 @maidenkikyo

[tpwk-formula1]

They Grow Up So Fast - OP81

Oscar Piastri X Plus size swimsuit model! Norris Reader

Summary: Lando finally brings his sister around the paddock. How will Oscar and the rest of the grid handle the new regular.

Warnings: some hate towards both the reader and oscar.

Face claim - Pearl Maria Froud

Instagram

Y/Nnorris

Liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, and 2,904,001 others

Y/Nnorris Growing up I remember I could never understand why I was built the way that I was. Now I'm thankful for the ass I was given. Lando if you see this post just don't swipe.

User1 OMG I'm seriously in love with you

User2 I just know Lando didn't read the caption😂😂

-> landonorris For once I actually did read the caption first

landonorris As your older brother it is my duty to tell you, you've always been beautiful... annoying as fuck as well.

-> User3 When you thought Lando would say something sweet about Y/N but then makes sure to show that they are in fact siblings

-> Mclaren Lando we've talked about this... you have to be nice to our guests.

--> User4 OMG Y/N IN THE PADDOCK THIS WEEKEND?!?!

user5 LMAO I'm not over Mclaren admin telling Lando he needs to be nicer to his sister

user6 I want your ass!

carlossainz Why do you never visit me!

-> Y/Nnorris as Charles has stated before... you never invite me over!

--> Landonorris @/carlossainz you better leave my sister alone!! She is far to young for you!

---> Y/Nnorris But Lando you know I like them older!

user7 I'll never understand why Y/N gets so much hype?! Like she's not even that pretty! Lando is def the better Norris sibling

User8 I literally love Y/N she's so fucking gorgeous

sabrinacarpenter Please marry me

-> Y/Nnorris let's go to the court house!🏃🏻‍♀️

Instagram

Mclaren

Liked by oscarpiastri, y/nnorris, and 3,798,236 others

Mclaren Swimsuit model Y/N Norris has made her paddock debut today here in Japan

user9 UGH why does F1 keep letting random women into the paddock like this

user10 Oh how I love Y/N!

landonorris Now why does my sister get her own post like this😒

user11 LMAOOOO not Lando being his sister's biggest opp

user12 I love how Mclaren calls her "swimsuit model" as if she isn't there because Lando is her brother.

Y/Nnorris Thank you so much for the invite! We both know Lando would never invite me.

-> landonorris You're the biggest liar ever! You literally tell me you're tired of watching me drive in circles

-> Mclaren We're so happy to have you! You were lovely and we hope to see you at more races to come.

charleslecerc She wasn't even in Ferrari yet she was the sweet person I met on the paddock

-> Mclaren I'd offer to share but she's all ours

user13 How long do we think it'll be before rumors of her dating a driver start?

-> user14 I doubt anyone will be shipping Y/N with a driver... she's not their type

Instagram Stories

Y/Nnorris

landonorris WHO IS IT?!?!

-> Y/Nnorris I literally have no idea what you're talking about

-> Landonorris Y/N I'M NOT PLAYING!!! WHO WAS THIS BOLD TO ASK YOU OUT?!?!

-> Y/Nnorris Stop worrying your pretty little head

-----------

user15 I'm stunned!!! No way you moved that quickly

-----------

sabrinacarpenter OMG is it the cutie you were telling me about?!

-> y/nnorris YES! He's literally the sweetest!

-> sabrinacarpenter I can't wait for you to tell me all about him!

----------

Twitter

Three Months Later

Instagram stories

Y/Nnorris

landonorris I hope you know you made him late for the meeting today!

-> Y/Nnorris And how tf was that my fault! I had no idea he was gonna come visit me.

------

user20 I just know this is Oscar!

------

user21 Who is it! I need to know

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sabrinacarpenter Thank you so much for finally letting me meet him! He really is so sweet and the way he looks at you!!!!

-> Y/Nnorris I'm so glad you like him! I really like him!

Oscarpiastri

Y/Nnorris I wasn't mad... Just disappointed!

-> oscarpiastri I'm sorry I ate the last cookie you made for me!

-> Y/Nnorris I can taste the sarcasm! But I forgive cause youre so cute and I love you!

-> oscarpiastri I love you too

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charleslecerc You better treat her good!

-> oscarpiastri Why do I feel like you're gonna be more protective of her than her brother?!

--> charleslecerc She's too sweet to be hurt!

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landonorris I tried to warn you about her!

-> oscarpiastri She didn't need to come with a warning label!

------

user22 Now what did you do to make our girl mad?!

------

user23 You finally pull a girl and now you're out here making her mad! You men are literally so fucking useless! You do not deserve her

Texts between Oscar and You

Instagram

Y/Nnorris

Liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 3,329,826 others

Y/Nnorris Oh how I love Silverstone and my photographer boyfriend (can you guess which picture he took)

user24 I feel like it was pic #2 and he was genuinely trying to get a candid

-> Y/Nnorris Haha yes! The sun was too bright so when I went to turn around I ended up giving him a stank face and this was the nicest one I could find😂😂

yourbff I can't wait to watch the hot men drive in circles all weekend long 😀

-> Y/Nnorris Don't act like you're not excited to watch my brother 😒

--> yourbff Why do you always have to call me out... but on a real note @/landonorris I want a paddock pass please 🥹

---> landonorris Y/N has a fresh pass with your name written all over it already... I feel used

user25 Do we still think Oscar is the man she is soft-launching?

Carlossainz You'd look so good in Ferrari red

-> landonorris no

-> oscarpiastri no

-> Mclaren no

-> Y/Nnorris They want me to say no as well but 💳 (that is me slamming my card down for you to sneak it to my apartment)

user26 So gorgeous!

oscarpiastri Can't wait to see you around this weekend!

-> user27 Now Oscar why do you act like you aren't being soft launched all over her IG

user28 I would like to stop seeing this fatty on my feed

-> oscarpiastri Maybe start with unfollowing her?😒😒😒

--> user29 LMAOOOO oscar is having none of it! We love when he stands up for his girl

Twitter

Instagram Stories

Oscarpiastri

Y/Nnorris I feel like this is all the confirmation they will need

-> Oscarpiastri I think they already knew Sweatheart

-> Y/Nnorris True but I like keeping it a little secret

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user35 Still not over you taking my girl like that

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user36 I'll never unstained why you picked the fat girl!

-------

user37 Y'all are such a cute couple!!!

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user38 You do not deserve Y/N! I hope when you told Lando about the relationship he didn't support cause you're not good enough for her!

------

user39 Such a beautiful couple!

Twitter

Instagram

YNnorris

Liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 3,209,893 others

Y/Nnorris @/logansargeant said something about being thankful? Idk what you American's do on a random Thursday in November but I hard launch my Aussie boyfriend.

On a real note Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate! I'm thankful for all of you guys!

tagged Oscarpiastri

Oscarpiastri I finally get a post dedicated to me and @/logansargeant gets mentioned

-> logansargeant Toughen up

Oscarpiastri I love you! I'm forever and always thankful for her!

user46 I was not mentally prepared for a hard launch today!

user47 the scream I scrumpt! HOLY SHIT ITS FINALLY HAPPENING!

user48 I can't believe he actually picked the fat girl! Charity work frfr

sabrinacarpenter Almost burned the house down! I can't believe we finally got the hard launch!

yourbff Well I'm thankful that I no longer have to keep my mouth shut about knowing the cutest couple on the grid!

-> Y/Nnorris I'm surprised you did keep your mouth shut

--> yourbff why do I feel like this is a dig?

---> Oscarpiastri That's cause it was... you're the biggest yapper I have ever met

Comment liked by Y/Nnorris

One year later

Instagram

Y/Nnorris

Liked by Oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,980,324 others

Y/Nnorris I said yes

User49 I can't believe it is so full circle that they're getting married

sabrinacarpenter they grow up so fast 🤧🤧🤧

landonorris I wish you could have seen the nerves Osc had all week😂😂😂

-> oscarpiastri Why must you expose me?!

Oscarpiastri I love you so much and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you!

user50 I just know this wedding is gonna be so beautiful

mclaren Can we have a papaya themed wedding?

-> Y/Nnorris I'm gonna hold your hand while I tell you this

--> user51 Y/N Norris is one of the funniest humans I have ever seen

user52 I can't wait to see this wedding

[dorabellingham]

Be like them

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you want to straighten your hair to go to an event with him, but your boyfriend doesn't really like the idea

request: yes (sorry I had to change a little because i couldn't write it)

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You looked in the mirror, holding a lock of your hair, still damp from your shower, as you scrolled through Instagram. Jude had mentioned that Real Madrid was hosting a special event to launch their new kit, a premier that would bring together players, coaching staff and some of the WAG's. He invited you to go with him, and the simple invitation was enough to make you think about how to get ready.

From what you saw in the photos, all the women were incredibly sophisticated, with straight, perfect hair, impeccable in every detail. Suddenly, your own curly locks seemed a little... out of place. You never had a problem accepting yourself, but when you imagined yourself next to your boyfriend at that event, doubts arose. Maybe it would be better to straighten your hair just this once, to have a look more in line with the other women's style.

Later, Jude came into the room, already changed for a dinner they were planning before the event. Seeing you standing there, with a lost look, he slowly approached you and hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—What are you thinking?

He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You gave a weak smile and hesitated before answering:

—I was thinking about straightening my hair for the premiere. I think that way I would look more... —You paused, not knowing how to finish. —More like the other women.

Bellingham frowned and looked at you in the mirror, clearly surprised.

—And who said you have to be like them?

He asked, with a touch of disbelief in his voice.

You sighed, trying to put into words what you felt.

—I know it's silly, but... have you seen what they look like? Each one more stunning than the other, and they all have such a... polished style. I think I would look better with straight hair, more "sophisticated".

You said the last word with a tone of uncertainty, as if you didn't even believe it.

Bellingham let out a soft, affectionate laugh, squeezing you a little tighter in his arms.

—Honey, you’re beautiful just the way you are. And besides that. —He smiled, looking into your eyes in the mirror. —I love your curls. We’re the curly couple, you know? I don’t know what I would do without those curls by your side.

You laughed, but you still seemed a little hesitant.

—Jude… you know I’m proud of my hair, but… it’s just that at this kind of event, maybe I should be a little more… “elegant”? I don’t know if that makes sense. I guess I just don’t want people to think I don’t make an effort to be by your side.

He turned around, holding your face gently and speaking with a softness that you loved.

—It makes perfect sense. But who cares what people think? I wouldn’t trade those curls for anything. They’re part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you. —He stroked a lock of your hair, twirling it around one of his fingers. —By the way, I want to be the guy who arrives with the most beautiful and authentic girl of all, the one who doesn't need to change a thing to be amazing. And, in my humble opinion, you already are. Totally.

You couldn't help but smile. Jude always had a way of making you feel valued, even when you tried to find fault with yourself. Still, doubts insisted on appearing, and he noticed the glint of uncertainty in your eyes.

—I know it's easy to say, but I'll show you that I'm not joking.

He said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and opening the gallery. He showed you several old photos of the two of them together, taken throughout their relationship, almost all during simple, quiet moments of everyday life. In all of them, your curls appeared naturally, and Jude always seemed enchanted by you, with a sparkle in his eyes that spoke for itself.

—See? — He smiled. —It's not your straight hair that will make me find you more beautiful. It's you. It's the way you smile, the way you look when you're comfortable and happy. And that's it. —He ruffled her curls slightly with a playful smile. —That's what I love.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of expectations dissipate a little.

—I guess I'll trust you, then. And let the curls be successful, right?

You said, half joking.

—That's my girl! —Jude replied, kissing you on the forehead with a proud smile. —Besides, the curls make you even more unique, and I love knowing that I have someone so incredible by my side. Let the other WAG's stay straight; I want to be with the most special one.

On the night of the premiere, as you were getting ready to go out, he could barely take his eyes off his girlfriend. You had put on a blue dress that highlighted your skin, and your curls were loose, forming a perfect frame around your face. He smiled when he saw you, feeling incredibly proud to have you by his side. As you approached the event, photographers and fans surrounded you, and you noticed the looks and whispers around you. For a moment, insecurity tried to return, but when you looked at Bellingham, you saw only a glow of admiration and love on his face.

—See? You don’t have to change a thing.

He whispered, holding your hand firmly as you walked together.

The curly-haired couple, as he joked, shone that night, drawing attention and leaving a unique mark. And you realized, amidst the flashes and Jude's affection, that their authenticity was their true strength, something that no one could take away.

[izzymissi]

Re8 Women cooking with their Partner HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu

ALCINA

-Alcina never steps foot in the kitchen... until one day, she decides to grace you with her presence. She towers over everything, moving with elegance but completely clueless about how to use half the utensils.

-"Darling, this wine is vintage, do you know how much it costs?" You try to convince her that it’s not necessary for your simple pasta dish. She insists on pouring it in anyway—while looking stunning, of course.

-At some point, she knocks over a frying pan and immediately blames the kitchen for being “too small” for her stature.

-If you even get near anything sharp or hot, she’s immediately by your side. "No, I will handle the knives. Do you think I’d let anything hurt my precious girl?" She dotes on you the entire time, constantly interrupting the cooking process with kisses on your forehead.

DONNA

-You thought you were being efficient by breaking the spaghetti in half. Donna gasps, then starts screaming in Italian, flailing a wooden spoon at you while Angie cackles from the counter

-Most of the time, Donna just quietly watches you cook, a soft smile on her face as she sneaks up behind you to hug you from the back. But the minute you make a mistake, she lets out a quiet "tsk" and fixes it herself, all while keeping her shy demeanor.

-She gives you a mysterious jar of herbs to add to the sauce, telling you it's a "family recipe." You're 90% sure they're from her greenhouse, but the taste is surprisingly delicious. "Told you it would work," she says with a wink.

BELA

-Bela is the type who follows recipes to the letter. Every ingredient is precisely measured, and she insists on cleaning up as you go. "We can’t cook in a mess, dear." You, on the other hand, prefer a more chaotic approach, much to her frustration.

-You both argue playfully over how much basil to put in the sauce. She’s convinced you’re adding too much, but when she tastes it, she begrudgingly admits, "Fine, it’s actually… perfect."

-In between the playful bickering, Bela sneaks in soft kisses on your cheek while you’re stirring the sauce. You can feel her smile against your skin when she pulls away.

-At one point, she accidentally burns her tongue on a sauce sample. You laugh as she frantically drinks water, pouting at you for not warning her.

CASSANDRA

-Cassandra’s idea of "helping" in the kitchen is using her scythe to chop vegetables at lightning speed. "Look how fast I can do it!" she grins, but you wince at the chaos she leaves behind. A carrot or two ends up flying across the room.

-When you ask her to add a little spice to the dish, she dumps the whole jar of chili powder into the pot. "Too much? Babe, you’ll survive." Spoiler: You did not survive.

-Every time you try to concentrate on cooking, Cassandra playfully grabs you by the waist, spins you around, and kisses you passionately. "Why are you cooking when you could be kissing me?" She finally lets you get back to work after the fourth kiss.

-The kitchen catches fire for five seconds, and it’s absolutely Cassandra’s fault for leaving something unattended. But instead of panicking, she just laughs it off and says, "Well, looks like we’re ordering pizza tonight."

DANIELA

-Daniela wants to bake a dessert with you, but she ends up eating half of the cookie dough before it even goes in the oven. "What? I can’t help it!" she says with her mouth full.

-The kitchen is a disaster zone after cooking with Daniela. There’s flour everywhere—on you, on her, even in her hair. But she just laughs it off and smears some on your nose, playfully teasing you.

-While you're waiting for something to finish baking, Daniela takes the opportunity to start a tickle war, completely forgetting about the oven timer. The cookies end up overbaked, but neither of you cares because you’re too busy giggling and kissing on the floor.

-She sneaks little spoonfuls of everything you make, grinning like a child when you catch her. “I’m just making sure it’s not poisoned,” she says, though you both know she just can’t wait to try your cooking.

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

Making up after a break up I Nico Hischier*

Summary; Nico Hischier is undeniably a gifted hockey player. However, amidst the fame and great attention, he must remain grounded and attentive to those who love and support him.

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; break-up to make-up; Smut 18+; fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes; Please, don't ask me why reader always has to fight with Nico 🙈 I blame the prompts 🤍 I know, my so-called "angst" is just a poor as my summaries - nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Word count; 4.1K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

➼｡ﾟ

"I’m sorry, but it’s not like I can control it. It’s part of the job!" Nico's voice was louder than usual, his frustration evident as he stood in the spacious living room, fists clenched at his sides.

The atmosphere in your apartment was thick with tension, as your boyfriend, Nico Hischier, had just come home after the New Jersey Devils were eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. A game where you should have been there to comfort and support him, but tonight, all you felt was anger and frustration.

"Well, you don’t exactly have to encourage it either!" you shot back, your voice rising to match his. The argument was heated, and a part of you knew it was reaching a point where there was no going back. The faces of the women who constantly surrounded your boyfriend were still vivid in your mind, and you just couldn’t push them away and let it go.

"It's not my fault that you’re just jealous," Nico then retorted, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you. You could sense how frustrated he was as well, and both of you sensed that this fight would not end well.

"Oh, I’m sorry that I love my boyfriend and want to spend time with him! Please excuse me for caring!" The words came out sharper than you intended, but you were beyond caring at this point. All the pent-up emotions of the past several months were pouring out, and everything was boiling over.

Your heartbeat quickened with every passing moment, coupled with a high pulse and tears pressing on, yet you were determined not to let them show. You were not going to let him win this. 

But then the words Nico thought, but didn’t intend to speak, blurted out before he could stop them. "Well, maybe it would be a lot easier if I wasn’t your boyfriend then." His expression shifted, hardening.

The room fell into a stunned silence. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the space, leaving you both gasping for breath as the words hung between you, sharp and final.

"You really mean that?" you asked, your voice now lower and trembling. Despite the heat of the argument, something within you hoped he would take it back, say something to reassure you. But he just stood there, silent, and resolute. So, you took a deep breath, silently giving him another chance to say something, while a tear trailed down your cheek. "Fine," you then finally spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "If that's how you feel, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Nico's eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, anger, sorrow, or maybe something else entirely. But still he said nothing, and that silence was more painful than any words could have been.

So, without another word said, you turned and walked to the bedroom, grabbing a bag, and stuffing it with whatever clothes and essentials you could find. You just needed to get out, to be anywhere but here.

And as you left the apartment, you glanced back at Nico one last time. But still he was just stood there, looking lost and defeated. But more importantly, he didn't stop you, and that hurt more than anything else.

The next few days were a blur of tears, anger, and regret. You replayed the fight in your head over and over, wondering how it had come to this. You had stood by Nico through everything—the gruelling travel schedule, the constant media attention, the physical toll of his sport. But the jealousy, the feeling of being second to his career and the women who flocked to him, had been too much.

You had tried to rationalise it. You knew Nico couldn't always help the attention he received. He was a professional athlete, a public figure after all, but the way he seemed to bask in it, the way he never turned it down—that had been the breaking point. You had wanted to feel special, to feel like you were the one who mattered most to him. Instead, you had felt like just another fan in the stands, easily replaceable. Like a groupie he’d occasionally sleep with – and even that, he didn’t do with you.

So, as you sat in your new, temporary home, staring at the blank walls, the realisation hit you. Despite the hurt and humiliation, despite how shattered you felt, you still loved him. And that was the most painful part of all.

But for now, you had to focus on picking up the pieces of your life. Maybe in time, things would change. Maybe Nico would come to his senses, or maybe you would find the strength to move on. Either way, you knew you had to find yourself again, to remember who you were without him, and only then could you decide what your future would hold.

_

The months following the breakup were incredibly tough. To be honest, they were horrible. It felt like your heart had been torn in two and clumsily put back together, yet the shattered glass left by the breakup couldn't be hidden. You had to live with the cracks in the foundation, hoping that over time, they’d slowly fade and become less painful. Or perhaps one day, you’d grow so accustomed to the pain that you wouldn’t feel it anymore.

The worst part, however, was that it was nearly impossible to avoid Nico, especially since your social circles overlapped so much. Friends' gatherings and small post-season team events turned into emotional minefields. Every encounter tested your resolve, challenging you to maintain the façade of being cool and collected. And as you tried your best to move on, Nico did the same, each of you masking your hurt with smiles and casual conversations.

Yet, every time you saw him, a pang of sadness struck you, which was even worse when you noticed the regret in his eyes, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, making it clear he was hurting too.

To your great luck though, during the rest of the off-season, Nico then went back to Switzerland, and you thought the distance might help you heal. However, to your own great surprise, his absence only made your heartache more pronounced. The reality of the breakup sank in deeper, and you spent many nights questioning your decision, wondering if things could have been different.

Meanwhile, Nico was undergoing his own transformation. Conversations with some of the other players and their partners opened his eyes to the truth he’d been avoiding. They told him about the worries you’d shared with them months before the breakup, how you’d tried to brush off your insecurities and jealousy but eventually couldn’t bear it any longer. And hearing this from others slowly made him realise just how much he’d taken your love and support for granted and how blind he’d been to your feelings.

One evening, after a particularly enlightening conversation with a teammate’s partner, Nico sat alone in his apartment, replaying the last few months in his mind. He knew he’d been enjoying the attention from the media and fans, perhaps a little too much, and the attention he’d received from women had gone to his head. All the flirtatious looks, the light touches on his arm as they complimented his play—it had made him feel invincible, more important than just a captain to his team, but it had also blinded him to what was truly important—you.

He remembered the countless nights you’d stayed up late to greet him after a game, the way you always had a kind word or a comforting touch, even when you were exhausted from your own long day. He thought about the times you’d been at his side during his high moments and the times you’d held him through the lows. And as he lay alone, letting the memories flood his mind, he realised he’d never reciprocated that level of devotion. He’d been so wrapped up in his career and the attention that came with it that he’d failed to see how it was affecting you.

So, in the weeks that followed, Nico found himself reaching out to friends and family for advice. He spoke to his parents, who reminded him of the values they had instilled in him—humility, respect, and gratitude. They encouraged him to think deeply about what he wanted in life and who he wanted to share it with.

And back in New Jersey, you were on your own journey of self-discovery. You reconnected with old friends, picked up hobbies you had abandoned, and spent time reflecting on what you wanted from a relationship. 

Then as summer slowly turned to autumn, you found yourself feeling stronger and more centred. You began to enjoy your own company and rediscovered passions that had been side-lined during your time with Nico. And while the pain of the breakup still lingered, it no longer dominated your every thought.

_

It all seemed to be going just well, but with the new season just around the corner, the team had organised a big event with partners to celebrate. And naturally, you were invited.

You hesitated at first, unsure if you were ready to face Nico in such a social setting – and single. But after some encouragement from your best friends, you decided to attend. So, you dressed carefully, wanting to look your best and show that you were doing just fine, even if your heart still ached at the thought of him.

The venue was buzzing with excitement, filled with the familiar faces of the team and their partners, all laughing and chatting. With a drink in your hand for comfort, you did your best to mingle and immerse yourself in the event, though it was hard to ignore the knot in your stomach. Especially when you saw Nico walk in with a date, casing your heart to sink. Yet, you forced a smile, determined not to let it ruin your evening.

You tried to act mature and collected, however, you still spent most of the night avoiding him, keeping to the far side of the room whenever he was near. You focused on chatting with friends, laughing at their jokes, and even indulging in a few more drinks to steady your nerves. But as the night slowly wore on, fate had other plans. And as you stepped into the hallway to catch your breath from the loud, wonderful atmosphere, you nearly collided with Nico, coming face close to his chest.

"Oh, hey," he said, looking as surprised as you felt.

"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady as you stood up straight. 

There was an awkward silence, the air thick with unspoken words between you, with only the cheerful noises of the event in the background humming. But then finally, Nico broke the silence.

"How have you been?" His voice was low and timid, yet you sensed the emotions he was trying to hide.

"Alright, I suppose," you said softly, trying your best not to let the stirring sensation within you surface. But as he just stood there, saying nothing else, and you noticed his date chatting with Timo in the background, you couldn’t help but let out a comment. "But apparently not as good as you…"

Nico immediately caught the direction of your eyes, turned for a brief moment before looking back at you. And it seemed as if that had pushed a button within him.

"Come on, Y/N… I know I said the final words, but you wanted to break up with me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration, as his eyes starred directly into yours. 

"Yes, because I was mad at you, not because I stopped loving you,” you said, more firmly than intended, crossing your arms defensively. The words came out quickly and before you could stop them, your emotions almost bubbling to the surface.

"What?" Nico's eyes widened, a small flicker of hope in his gaze. “You still love me?”

You were slightly baffled by his question. 

"Of course, I still love you..." you then replied, your voice softening as you let out a deep sigh, though unable to hold back the tear welling in the corner of your eye. “Nico, all I wanted was for you to love me… to show me you cared…”

“But I do care,” he quickly responded, almost blurting it out reflexively. Nico just couldn’t hide the fact that he’d been missing you deeply, despite his best efforts through the night. “Y/N, I love you more than anyone… none of them matter to me… I swear…”

And it was in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. As you both stood there, you slowly came to realise that the feelings between you had never really disappeared. 

But with the defensive walls you’d built over the past couple of months, you tried to walk away to gather your thoughts. You didn’t want to allow yourself to be vulnerable, risking get hurt all over again. However, Nico was quick and grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards him. 

And before you could react, his lips were on yours, the kiss passionate and intense.

You tried to push him away, anger still lingering from the past within. But Nico's grip just tightened, pulling you closer to him. And as much as you wanted to resist the temptation, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him. So, with a sigh, you simply surrendered to the kiss.

You felt a flood of emotions as the kiss deepened, all the hurt and longing pouring out. It was just like coming home after being lost for so long, feelings of warmth and comfort embracing you. And when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, staring at each other with a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Come with me," Nico whispered against your lips, your breaths mixing in the small space between you. 

“What about your date?” you asked under your breath, still gasping for air. 

But Nico just curved a little smirk at the corner of his lips. “Doesn’t matter – Timo can show her out… you’re more important now…”

And you couldn’t help but simply nod, your heart pounding as you stood so closely with the man, you’d long believed to be the love of your life. “Alright…”

“Let’s get out of here then.”

Nico didn’t even let you breathe and respond to his suggestion. Instead, you both just quickly excused yourselves from the event, following his footsteps out into the cool night air and swiftly into his car. The ride to his place was a blur, both of you eager to be alone as the magnetic force between only grew stronger and more intense by the second. And as soon as you walked through the door to the apartment you once called home, he quickly pulled you into another fervent kiss, his hands roaming your body, desperate to make up for lost time.

And you were equally eager to feel Nico against you. Everything about him felt like comfort and home - his touch so familiar, and the connection between you natural and effortless. So, neither of you wasted any time, your hands moving under each other's clothing, eager to undress and let your skin touch.

Though you had done this so many times in the past, tonight felt different. It was as if you’d fallen in love anew, and this was the first time you were allowing yourselves to feel each other. Yet, everything went by pure instinct. Both of you knew exactly which buttons to push, and before long, you were back in sync; Nico’s lips were attached to yours at all times as you both climbed under the sheets into missionary position, consumed by lust and desire, exploring each other.

And while engaged in a heated kiss, your tongues dancing with one another, your hand found his hardening member, stroking it gently to get it fully hard and ready. Meanwhile, Nico’s skilled fingers found their way to your core, gently caressing your folds and sensitive flesh as he alternated between paying attention to your clit and delicately probing your entrance.

Soft moans escaped you both, humming into the kiss and letting out deep breaths when you needed to part to regain air. The room was hot, filled with the smell of sex, and despite how good the gentle touch of his hand felt, you craved more. And fortunately, Nico didn’t keep you waiting long.

“Oh yes,” you breathed out as he eased two fingers inside you, gently stretching and massaging your walls. It was just as you remembered, the curve of his thick fingers easily seeking out your sensitive spot as he pumped them in and out. And as you felt the pleasure starting to build within you, your hands instinctively sought the back of his shoulders to grab on to for support.

Yet, it still wasn’t enough. Though Nico was skilled with his fingers, there was something you desired more. “Nico, baby… I want…” you moaned softly under your breath, letting the pleasure slowly consume your mind. “I want you inside me.”

However, as much Nico felt his cock pulsating, in desperate need of release, he also wanted to make sure you felt so good before he gave in to his own desires. Just like he always did. 

So, leaning in closely to your face, his breath so near your ear you could feel the shiver it sent down your spine, he spoke huskily, “Let me make you come first.” 

And you couldn’t say no to that.

So, letting him work his magic, you simply allowed yourself to relax into the mattress, your hands still holding tightly onto his shoulders as he increased the speed of his pumps. And at this point, you simply stopped holding back your noises, letting the pleasure take over and closing your eyes as he pushed you closer to the brink of climax.

“Fuck baby… missed your moans so much,” Nico complimented, his eyes intensely watching you squirm and whimper under his touch, your core getting wetter with each motion.

“Mmm yes…” was all you could moan, as the orgasm approached, your toes curling as your mind became hazier.

And as soon as Nico felt your muscles clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close. Knowing just how to bring you to that blissful peak, he scissored his digits at just the right angles, causing you to let out a louder moan and your body to lightly tremble.

"Fuck yes!" you gasped for air as the climax took over. Your walls tightened, sending your mind into a high, your juices spraying just enough to cover Nico’s fingers and hand as you arched your back, savouring the moment the orgasm took hold.

It felt nothing short of amazing. And despite Nico having done this so many times before, this felt heavenly, almost like a drug you’d been addicted to, gone through rehab, and now were back reaching the high you’d been longing for.

And as you lay there, slowly coming down from the high Nico had caused you, you couldn’t help but smile. "Oh… how I missed your touch," you almost cried, a whimper of pleasure escaping as you let out a deep breath.

Leaning over to place a tender kiss on your lips, Nico let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, I’ve missed playing with your body as well, baby..."

There was a momentary pause as he delicately withdrew his fingers, allowing your centre to relax. But with his pulsating cock proudly hard and eager, Nico wasted little time before gently guiding the tip against your entrance and effortlessly sliding himself inside you.

"Oh, yes..." he moaned deeply, savouring the comforting warmth of your inner walls, embracing him snugly as he gradually delved deeper into your depths.

Nico was convinced that your bodies were made for each other. Always had been and always would be. No woman before you had ever felt so seamlessly connected to his own, and he couldn’t imagine sharing this intimacy with any other woman in the future.

Though the position was simple, your bodies moved in harmony, his hips meeting yours with each thrust as moans reverberated and pearls of sweat formed on your skin. There was simply no greater pleasure than this reunion, where heartfelt emotions flowed freely after being pent up for so long.

And when you timidly suggested a change in position, indicating a desire to be on top, Nico swiftly flipped you both over, bodies still intertwined as you established a steady rhythm, rolling your hips as you rode him towards his own climax.

It was sheer perfection. Your hands instinctively found their place on his muscular chest for support, while his palms rested on your hips, gently guiding your movements to increase the pace slightly. And you complied willingly. Sensing your second orgasm approaching, you eagerly quickened your pace, releasing intense, deep breaths as you pressed your knees into the mattress, driving your movements with determination.

And Nico was nearing his peak as well. The tightness around his eager shaft, combined with the sight of your naked form above him and the melody of your moans, propelled him closer with each passing moment. Then acting on pure instinct, he swiftly pulled himself up to a sitting position, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss while his hand found its way into your hair, maintaining a firm grip around your neck. Pressing his forehead against yours, he held your face close to his, sharing breaths as his eyes locked onto yours.

"Never letting you go again... ever..." he growled softly, his climax imminent.

And equally on the edge, you responded with a simple vow. "Never..." you murmured, your hands returning to his shoulders for support as you maintained the intense rhythm.

With his other hand bracing behind him to steady himself, Nico instinctively tilted his hips upward slightly, just enough to stimulate your G-spot and draw a soft whimper of pleasure from you.

"Yes, oh yes... Nico... I'm gonna... gonna come..." you cried softly; your eyes almost unable to stay open as you rocked each other's worlds.

"Ja, schätzi... come for me... come with me now!" he urged, his voice filled with passion.

And it didn’t take much longer for both of you to unleash deep, resounding moans, waves of pleasure engulfing you as you soared into ecstasy together. Like often before, Nico released his cum into your depths, your walls eagerly tightening around his sensitive member, as your juices blended. It was perhaps the most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced, fuelled by the fiery passion and longing for Nico’s touch once more.

As the pent-up tension, anger, and frustrations from months past finally dissipated, you allowed yourselves to remain connected, slowly descending from the peak of ecstasy. It took a moment, the intensity lingering as both of you were deeply overwhelmed, and only gradually regaining control of your breath, your lungs filled with air and your minds cleared, your gaze met in a somewhat hazy stare, and a smile of pure bliss creeping onto your lips.

It was an exquisite sensation. Even as you slowly disentangled yourselves, a sense of euphoria enveloped you, finding solace in the pillow beneath your head as Nico did the same. For several minutes, your eyes remained locked, no words exchanged, the intensity of your passion simply speaking volumes.

And after the fervent lovemaking, you found yourself nestled in his arms, your head resting against his chest, right where you belonged. For the first time in a while, a sense of tranquillity washed over you, while Nico's fingers gently traced patterns on your skin, a serene smile gracing his lips.

"Nico," you then softly broke the comfortable silence. "Are you sure this is what you want?" you asked tentatively, needing reassurance. “To get back together…” 

But Nico had no doubts. Feeling your presence again was something he had yearned for deeply, and now, he was determined never to risk losing you ever again. "More than anything," he replied earnestly, his voice brimming with sincerity. "I know I messed up before, but I won't make that mistake again. I love you, and I want us to be together."

And as you looked up at him, you only saw truth in his eyes. "I love you too, Nico. And I want us to be together as well, but we need to work on this, to make sure we don't fall into the same patterns."

He gently nodded. "I know. We'll take it one step at a time. But I promise, I'll do everything I can to make this right."

And as you snuggled closer, you felt a sense of hope. The road ahead wouldn't necessarily be easy, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you were on the right path. And with Nico by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way. 

[yeowangies]

Covenant

PAIRING: Sukuna/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: AU - Medieval, Demon!Sukuna, Explicit Sexual Content, Dubcon, Mentions of blood. WORDCOUNT: 1404

Summary:

Turning to look for its point of origin, the voice was basically lost in the darkness, and your hands shuddered in anticipation.

Notes:

KINKTOBER DAY 2: DUBCON

This was inspired by the movie The Witch. I was so excited to write for Sukuna, but I don't know if I did him justice tbh. I had fun though, and I'll write more of him in the future!

divider by @/saradika-graphics

Surrounded in a puddle of blood inside your own dark, precarious house, you tried to wipe it away from your clothes, your hands, your face, but there was no use. If anything, you were spreading it more.

You couldn’t stop shaking, and the tears in your eyes made everything blurry. 

Your entire family was gone. All that was left were pieces of them, torn clothes, blood splattered on the floor and on the walls, and of course, you. 

It was your fault. You didn’t know how, but it was. 

You were powerless to stop the horror that was unleashed at your home, and the predicament was just as tortuous. Being the only survivor of a massacre was its own kind of hell. 

With resigned courage, you walked into the forest just a few meters away from what used to be your place. It surprised you that you didn’t feel any doubt about doing so, no matter that you were still shaken up about what you’ve lost. 

An ominous voice was what made your heart sink as the sun went down. 

“Have you lost something, brat?”

Turning to look for its point of origin, the voice was basically lost in the darkness, and your hands shuddered in anticipation. 

“Who are you?” You asked with feigned bravery. “Where are you?”

A mocking laugh was your response, and a shiver ran up your spine. 

“Where is your family?” The voice asked. It lacked any kind of warmth you could have recognized in any other human being, and it only made you tremble more. Whoever was speaking was obviously laughing at you, mocking you, and fear crept in quickly. “You are alone, aren’t you, girl?”

When a figure suddenly appeared out of thin in front of you, you fell backwards, gasping in shock. 

Whatever it was, it was enormous, imposing, with four arms, and four eyes that gleamed through the dark. 

Inhuman. 

“Look at you, all lost and alone.” He licked his lips, eying you with all his eyes as if you were a piece of meat. “Do you need help?”

“What are you? What do you want?” You demanded urgently, with a breathy voice.

“To help you.” He replied; he was grinning, sharp teeth visible like pearls in the night, but he sounded annoyed with you. “Your family is dead, isn't it? You have nothing left in this world, you are better off this way. I can give you something, anything.”

“What?” You asked, stunned, but he went, ignoring you.

“They would have married you off to some poor idiot who wouldn’t even touch you the way you deserve, and you’d die as poorly as you lived. But I can give you whatever you desire.” You were too taken aback to move when he approached you, towering in front of you with his impressive size. “I see your heart, you envy those wealthy women with flamboyant dresses, living in mansions while you starve to death. I will give you the biggest castle, with the most expensive dresses and impressive jewls.”

He paused, leaning down to gaze at you with unnaturally red eyes.

“If you stay by my side, and give me your soul.”

“What… What does that mean?” Your breathing turned erratic, louder, at the shock of what was currently happening. 

“You will live a fruitful life, far longer than anyone in your ancestry has ever lived.”

No matter that you were clearly in the presence of a demon, with sharp, sinister features, you couldn’t avert your eyes from him, like a magnetic field was drawing you closer. Even if you were too stunned to move, you couldn’t even move away from him if you wanted to.

And a voice inside you told you that even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you go too far.

He stared at you, expectantly, as if he knew you were going to say yes. 

“I don’t have all day, girl.” He playfully complained, in a tone that feigned annoyance, but his eyes stared up and down your body as he spoke. “I have another calamity to attend to.”

It shouldn’t have been a hard choice, it really shouldn’t have been. But you had considered your options before this entity even showed up: you’d either find a job for another lord, who would beat you, abuse you and even rape you, only to be dead at a probably young age, not long from then, of an unknown disease; or in worst cases, you’ll be begging for food on the streets, maybe even trading sex for money, leaving you vulnerable again, with an unknown fate that would make you die as a penniless person. 

Gulping hard, eyes closed, you drooped your shoulders in defeat.

“I accept.”

Your vision turned blurry, back hitting the dirt as you were pushed backwards with full force with a hand on your neck. You gasped for air, as he climbed on top of you, all hands pressing you to the ground as he laughed wickedly. 

“That was too easy!” He scorned, ripping your clothes with little effort. 

“No!” You tried to cling to whatever fabric was left on you, to no avail when he pinned your arms to the ground.

“Shut up!” He roared, making you whimper when he tightened his grip on your forearms. “We have to seal the deal, and this is how we do it.”

“But I-”

“You accepted this.” He scolded you with a tone that made your stomach sink, empty yet heavy eyes staring at your face. “I don’t give a shit if you want to die in this disgusting forest, I’ll leave you to rot right here if you take your word back.”

You gulped, tears threatening to spill as he squeezed his grip around your throat. 

“Do you really want to end up beaten and raped by some revolting rich man, dying as pathetically as you lived?” When you shook your head softly with a sob, he unwrapped his hand from your neck. “You’ll enjoy this, it’s not as bad as you think.”

The mischievous grin on his lips didn’t give you any reassurance; he sounded like he was making fun of you with every word he spoke. 

However, you didn’t fight anymore. When he grabbed and kneaded one of your breasts, nipples already erect when the cool air hit your body, you whined, but didn’t complain. It was a strange sensation, to have his hands on you, his lecherous gaze focusing on every curve. It felt wrong, and simultaneously so good, when his fingers dragged down your sides, nails turned your skin red. 

As he pulled his pants down, you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what you assumed would be pain (you had been told it’d hurt on the first time), but his hand on the back of your head forced you to watch in horror as two cocks bounced free. 

“My name is Sukuna. Remember it, it’s the only name you’ll scream from now on.”

Your mind turned blank when he suddenly pushed both of his cocks against you, penetrating your pussy and asshole simultaneously. Your body was numb, pain surging through your veins, as he started moving unrelentingly. You watch with hazy eyes as he slid his cocks in and out of your holes, mouth hung open, breathy whimpers and sobs spilling from your lips. 

You didn’t even notice you were crying until your face was drenched.

The hand on your head pushed you against the ground again, squeezing your neck, coercing you to meet his eyes. 

“You break my fucking heart.” Sukuna chuckled, licking his lips. “You’re crying on your first time? No one will treat you as nicely as I am.”

Something wet and warm sliding across your lower abdomen made you choke back a moan, alarmed since you had no idea what was real or not anymore. But something bloomed rapidly inside your tummy, like a wildfire.

“Oh, you like that? What a slutty girl!” His dark voice sneered at the pathetic situation you were in.Pain and pleasure mixed in together, turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t explain what was happening to you, noises spilling from deep inside your chest, moans, whimpers and sobs, with each thrust of his hips. Whatever wet thing was sliding between your legs made your body shake with delight, and your eyes were rolling back into your head as he tightened his grip on your throat.

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

Nine-ing Armor

(not my gif)

sum: Rebecca meets her ‘Shite in Nine-ing Armor’

WARNING: Rupert doesn’t own West Ham, WestHamplayer!r, confessions, r is kinda like Jamie, gay panic, injuries, blood

Rebecca didn’t see this coming, at all.

She sat in her office, barely getting work done due to a certain West Ham player in her mind. Ever since the clubs have agreed to have a women’s league, Rebecca was beyond ecstatic. Now, she just wanted it to go away, she wanted you to go away. Not because she didn’t like you, no, it was the complete opposite.

The way your legs were so perfectly muscular, your arms looked like you could sweep her of her feet even though you were shorter than her. She would’ve loved if your skilled hands just made their way down to her-

“Rebecca!” Keeley screeched, barging into the office with a big scowl, Rebecca jumped, snapping out of her thoughts, “Yes?”

“What the hell is this?!” The woman growled, stomping over to the other blonde desk in fury. Rebecca raised her brow, a signal for the woman to explain, Keeley let out another growl, placing her phone on Rebecca’s fancy glass desk.

It was a text.

Y/n 😉 Hey Keeley! I was wondering if you could tell Rebecca that ‘y/n’s sorry if she’s upset you in anyway’? I want her to know that I meant it but, she doesn’t have to reciprocate it. Thanks! Have a good day :) It was you. After a few weeks of going out, getting to know each other more, you finally caved. You told Rebecca your true feelings during brunch. You really thought she would feel the same after everything but, you thought wrong. Next thing you knew, she was sprinting out the door of the food establishment, leaving you enough to cover the bill. At least she had the decency to do that. She left you, in the middle of brunch, alone, looking ridiculous in the sundress you specifically wore to impress the older woman. You felt horrible. You should’ve just left it alone, how could a woman as fabulous and stunning as Rebecca Welton even consider wanting you? What could you offer her that she didn’t already have?

Rebecca’s face dropped. This could not be happening. She already made a complete fool of herself the first time she met you. Blabbering about anything just to get you to look at her. It wasn’t her fault, there was something about you that made her lose her confidence and melt like a puddle of ice.

Now, she’s made a fool of you. All because she can’t talk properly around you. After you’d confessed her feelings, Rebecca began panicking. She wasn’t ready, at least that’s what she told herself.

She couldn’t talk to you without breaking down, your presence was enough to make her want to tell you her darkest secrets.

Keeley frowned, rounding her best friend’s desk, she would knock some sense into the woman just like she had many times before. “Look, it’s clear you are madly in love with her, why can’t you just say that?” Keeley said, her hands placed on Rebecca’s shoulders. The older blonde shrugged, “Because I’ll hurt her Keeley, I know I will. It’s better that I do it now.” The club owner pushed away opening her laptop once more and typing, Keeley knew better than to meddle in this little affair but, she read the message out loud, hoping Rebecca would listen.

“You and her are worth the chance, you’ll never know if to don’t even try it with her. Screw the press, you said it yourself.” Without another word the younger woman left. Leaving a conflicted Rebecca alone in her self pity. She wondered if this is how you felt. Alone and betrayed.

It was hours until the game between West Ham and Richmond. Yet, Rebecca could feel her heart lurching. Even if the game hadn’t started yet, she knew that the West Ham women’s team was in the building. It made her overthinking every turn and step she took as she walked around. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was looking for, just mindlessly wandering. Maybe she even hoped to see you.

That was when she had stopped in front of the guest lockeroom that she had realized, she was drawn to you. Peeking through the window, she heard footsteps behind her. “Hello, Rebecca Welton is it? We met at the Club Conference a few weeks ago” A voice said, the blonde woman turned around to see the owner of West Ham, the better, new one. Rebecca smiled, “Ah, Diana! What a pleasure, I hope your team have brought their A game.”

The two engaged polite conversation, Rebecca found Diana way more pleasant than some of the owners. It was nice not being the only woman anymore. The lockeroom door burst open, and out came the women all energized. Rebecca didn’t care who won of lost tonight, she just needed to talk to you.

You exited the lockeroom with your team, they hyped you up as you unzipped your hoodie revealing the number 9, flaunting it around. The team sang the ‘We All Follow the West Ham’ chant with pride, Rebecca looked over at you. The twinkle in her eyes was noticeable, even Diana saw it. “You love her, don’t you…?” The woman said softly, crossing her arms as she winked at Rebecca. The blonde woman felt her voice would betray her, settling for a nod instead.

——

The game was exciting, in the first half the score was Richmond 1, West Ham 3. Every time someone would try to get passed you, the effortless moving of your feet managed to swipe the ball. You had this grin all game, it pissed Richmond off badly. Even the players who were benched. It was no surprise that fans had began to compare your mannerisms to Jaime.

The way you had provoked one of the players and acting like it wasn’t your fault, hands up in the air with this smirk.

It turned Rebecca on, especially when the Jumbotron would zoom into you. Man, you looked so good in your kit.

During halftime, no matter how much the Richmond coaches didn’t want to, they had to press that big red button they really didn’t want at first. Their biggest weapon was their player named, Maria Sheridan. The woman was a darn good player, as Lasso would put it.

She just had too much attitude, it would’ve been the best to bench her until she got her act right. That was when Roy realized her attitude combined with yours might make it easier to win.

“It looks like, for the first time in two games, Roy Kent has decided to sub in Sheridan” One of the announcers said in disbelief, the other smirked, “This is going to be one explosive end. We already know how Sheridan and Y/l/n get along.”

They were in fact correct, Maria had stopped you from making 2 goals now, it was ticking you off and everyone knew it.

“She’s really hot in that kit, Rebecca” Keeley nudged the other blonde woman on the arm, she just sighed, “She’s angry because of what happened, I mean look at her on that field!” Rebecca gestured to the Jumbotron that had caught you bending your water bottle in half as the refs called a time out.

You aggressively spat out the clear liquid, throwing the plastic bottle onto a chair. Sheridan was gonna pay, you wanted to get another goal, the score was now even. The team didn’t want to lose, not when they were all so close. The whistle let out its shrill cry and the pitch was back into action.

You were close, so close to the goal, that was when you heard the loud pounding of feet. You tired, even when your body ached, you still ran, just when she had tackled you to the ground, your skin sliding against the turf and your head slamming into her shoe, you had kicked it.

You whimpered as you lay on the ground, you could hear the gasps of the spectators then cheering. You would be embarrassed later, not knowing why they were cheering. The buzzer rang through the stadium as you grasped your shoulder. It hurt from catching you after the impact.

You didn’t realize the red substance oozing out of your head. You noticed Sheridan had gotten up and propped up your head, she was screaming something at you but you couldn’t make it out. It was so loud and…why were the lights so bright?

You could feel the rumbling of feet, you grasped your head wondering why it hurt so badly. You could feel the thick wet liquid on your palm…oh.

Now you smelt the irony substance, it was sickening, you hated blood.

The medical team had brought you to the infirmary, checking you over. By then you had a sense of what happened, hoping nothing was broken, if anything was, you didn’t feel it.

They gave you some pain medication, cleaned up the burn and the small gash on your head. There was a bruise on your shoulder where you had landed. Lucky you.

Maria walked in with an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, y’know for being like that on the field, you alright?” She asked, softly sitting down next to you as you caught your breath. “It was a footing accident and I’m sorry, if it make you feel any better you’ve ruined my new boots” she laughed softly. You shook your head, you knew it was, someone her level wouldn’t mess up that badly, not if she completely lost her brain. “I thought I should tell you, your girlfriend went complete psycho on me but, I deserve it.” You raised a brow, “What girlfriend?”

“Uh, Rebecca?”

Oh, right. Your cheeks heated up quickly, rivaling the color of dried blood on your hands. Noticing it, you got up to wash the blood off. Maria watched you, “She wants to see you, she’s out there having a mental breakdown, weeping about how she’s stupid for something. You want her to come in here?” The Richmond player would make a good friend, maybe some day the both of you could get passed your differences.

Nodding, you sent her a smile, “You’re not all bad, Sheridan.” The other woman smirked, “Don’t get all sappy on me, still have to beat you during the championships.” She left without another word, missing your shocked expression.

That means you had made it in…

You felt overly happy with yourself, scrubbing off the rest of the blood on your face. “Darling?” Rebecca called out, her voice was always like honey, softer than silk.

“Why’d you do it? Run out on me like that.” You asked, trying to get the blood from under your finger nails. You heard her sigh, “I was scared, I haven’t loved somebody this much since…I don’t even know how long.” She chuckled bitterly, coming up behind you she stopped a little bit out of arms reach. “I understand if you don’t want me but, I can’t promise you that I’ll stop loving you.”

With a shaky breath, you shut the water off turning to her, “I do want you, Rebecca. That’s what makes it so hard to be mad at you, just promise me something” You turned to her, not expecting the tears stains and smudged mascara. She really had been crying, her face was a little red too. “Don’t let the media define you, you’re worth more than all of the diamonds on this world and more…”

“I promise.” She sniffled, looking at you with hurt eyes, she’d struggled a lot in her life. You could tell from how she carries herself. “Then I forgive you, stupid idiot…” You smiled, walking up to her and smashing your lips onto hers.

“You’re a real shite, you know that?” Rebecca laughed, pulling you closer as she wiped the new formed tears, except now, they were happy tears.

———

This was in my drafts as well, I thought I’d release when I had time! This was one of my very first fics that I’ve written! I drafted it for revision and never released it, hope you like it!

Not proofread :)

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

I could make one where it's Balwin's birthday and his beautiful wife is the most beautiful woman in the kingdom and he performs a belly dance for him in front of all the guests at the party and Balwin gets jealous and jealous and takes her to his rooms and tells him claim

♧ My Eyes Alone - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request. I think this was another one of the requests that got deleted in the first batch so thank you for sending it in again! Sorry about that 😭. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

The queen of Jerusalem always prided herself on modesty.

Prior to being wed to her husband, she was a dancer. A belly dancer to be exact. And while this art was more revealing than some would prefer, y/n always carried herself with a modest grace that was admirable to many.

Baldwin knew of her hobby and had no issue with it. He knew that despite it being more revealing than he would prefer, she enjoyed it and he didn't have the heart to take it away from her. He knew that while her beauty caused some eyes to wander in her direction, dancing made her happy. So he just had to deal with it.

Until one day.

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

It was the afternoon of the king's birthday, and everyone in the castle had been celebrating all morning. Spirits were high and so was the amount of alcohol many had consumed.

It was planned that y/n and a few other women from her dance group were set to perform for the guests later in the day.

The women had gone to get ready, leaving the guests to prepare for the performance. When the group entered the courtyard, all eyes went their way.

Their beautiful jewelry sparkled in the sun, as did their soft, smooth skin that caught the attention of a few men who had a little too much to drink.

As the music started and the dance began, Baldwin felt a sting of jealousy permeate his body.

His wife looked absolutely stunning of course, but because of this she caught the attention of Guy and some other men. He watched them from his seat at the table: chuckling and pointing, objectifying and lusting.

Baldwin bit his tongue underneath the mask as he felt rage bubble inside of him at their disgusting, drunken behavior.

He tried his best to contain himself and not allow envy to consume him, but the jealousy was strong. Not just jealousy, but rage.

How dare they objectify his queen. Look at her as if she was an animal in a cage to be stared at.

This was more than he could handle.

But finally, the dance was over. As the women filled out, Baldwin followed them. Approaching his wife, he tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, grinning

“Baldwin darling, did you enjoy the performance?” she said cheerfully.

The king nodded quickly before speaking,

“come with me to our chambers, I need to speak with you” he said, taking her by the hand and quickly leading her away.

The smile faded from y/n’s face as she followed Baldwin up the stairs to their rooms. Her mind was racing. Had she done something wrong? Was he alright? Finally, they arrived.

Baldwin closed the door behind them,

“is everything alright Baldwin? What happened-” y/n was cut off by her husband wrapping her in a firm hug.

“I did not like how those men looked at you,” he said softly. The queen sighed and returned his embrace.

“Oh my love, I can assure you it's alright-” she started, only for Baldwin to cut her off again.

“No, it's not alright! I hate it when people look at you as if you are an object to be touched. I hate it so much” he sounded on the verge of tears.

Y/n sighed again and held him tightly.

“I know, I know. I'm sorry for letting that happen darling. I shouldn't have performed in such a large crowd” 

“But it's not your fault. You shouldn't be sorry, they are the ones who should be sorry. I just hate seeing them treat you like that” he said quietly.

The two embraced for a while longer, sharing words of adoration before the queen changed her clothes and they returned to the courtyard.

Y/n did not leave her husband's side for the remainder of the day, just as some extra reassurance.

The rest of the day ran well and the queen remained safe from the prying and vile eyes of drunkards, thanks to Baldwin's peircing glares at whoever so much as glanced in her direction.

Despite the circumstances, y/n felt butterflies in her stomach about the situation. She loved it when Baldwin was jealous. It wasn't often that he was, but it always made her feel safe and protected. 

It was nice to know that of all the men in the world who wanted her body, there was one man who wanted her heart.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Family, not by blood but by choice instead | awfc x teen!reader

I previously posted on another account, however, I didn't realise a second blog wouldn't allow me to follow people, so I am reposting again on my new one.

Let me know what you all think!

You should have known, there was tell-tail signs all throughout the last several years and yet you were so blind about it all.

Your mother was a narcissist, she was manipulative and gaslighted you your whole life, you were always made out to the bad guy and she was the victim.

It was clear as day to anyone on the outside, but your nieve self just chose to always believe different about things.

Looking back on the several years of your childhood, you had always thought you upbringing wasn't completely terrible. It was just the 2 of you, only your mum and you ever since you could remember. Your parents ended up splitting up when you were really little but ever since that day, you had always been made out to be the reason for their seperation.

You had always wonderd how it could be your fault. You was only 3 when he walked out, so how could it really be like that?

"You were always too much to handle. He couldn't cope," Your mum would say, all of them long nights when you would wrap your tiny arms around her and sob your little heart out to her.

"I'm here, you've got me. You've only ever got me," Her words were embedded in your head from the day that you'd decided to try and have an open conversation about the possibility of finding your dad. "Why go and find him? Haven't I been good enough. I'm the one that's looked after you all of these years and this is the thanks that I get in return?" It was always something that like, always a guiltrip and it was something that she knew would work well.

The harsh statement of the most recent conversation with the older woman left a bitter taste in your mouth and make you question every single thing in life.

"Aren't you happy for me? I made it, mum!" You exclaimed, you were happy enough to want to share the news with your mum but you found so dumbfound by her response which left you feeling shame and judgement for even wanting to tell her.

"Yes you have made it Y/N but you know, you only have me to thank for that now, don't you?" Your mum once again found a way to make it about herself, regardless of the situation;  It was always and only ever about her. "I'm sure that you can find some way to thank me though. All of those years and the amount I have spent on football boots for you. You'd be nowhere if it wasn't for me and I think you owe me now, don't you?" she told you.

You remember feeling stunned by her words, there was a lot of emotions that you had felt building up inside as you were ultimately confused how she'd somehow managed to twist this to make it all about herself but of course she was quick enough to make an excuse to end the call when she grew bored of talking to you.

You should have knew better, every phone call always ended up being the same way and it always left you with a feeling of guilt for making a life for yourself and that phone call that night wasn't any different. You had just been so excited to spill the news, however that excitment soon faded and was replaced by confused feelings of upset and anger once you'd told her, you fought to hold in your tears during the initial phone call but you were on the verge of breaking by the time she had hung up.

That phone call was the one you told her about making it into the national team, you had only been a part of Arsenal womens' first team for under a year and it felt like a massive achievement to be selected to represent your country and immediately you couldn't wait to share the news with your mum - You thought that she'd be pleased for you but you couldn't be further away from the truth.

Ever since that phone call, you had tried your hardest to distance yourself from your mum but it hurt to do that. The women was the only blood related family member that you had, it had only ever been the 2 of you, together through thick and thin.

Flash forward to now, the current time where you are sitting on the sofa, you had returned home after a long training session and you couldn't help but think about it that conversation on a constant loop in your head. 

"You were quiet tonight kidda," Leah perched on the arm of sofa as looked at you in concern. "I'm about to start cookin' tea. How's chicken dippers and smiley faces sound, eh?" she suggested.

"Mhm. Sure that sounds good to me," You mumbled as you kept your eyes focused on nothing but the telly.

The truth was that the conversation was constantly replaying in your head; The conversation, the bitterness and manipulation, every time you thought about it it then made you think of every other time that something like this happened.

Maybe your childhood wasn't as great as you really thought?

"Okay then... Is there anything that you want to talk about?" The blonde questioned, hoping for a bit more of an insight on your mood; Returning from her own rehab session, the entire car ride had been quiet compared to normal and the older woman couldn't help but feel something wasn't right.

"Nope," You stood firm in your reply, shaking your head as you kept your eyes glued on the TV screen; You couldn't really say that you payed much attention to whatever it was, the noise was pretty much a blur that was playing in the background.

"Are you sure?" Leah questioned, frowning worriedly as she took note of the tears welling up in your eyes. "Kidda, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna cry." she stated.

"I... I'm fine," You mumbled, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay until you could escape to your bedroom and allow yourself to be vulnerable and alone. You'd always felt complete shame to show any sort of vunterability in front of anyone, let alone the blonde footballer who'd virtually taken you under her wing ever since you joined during the transfer break of 2022.

You'd always been told that crying showed weakness and you refused to be seen as weak.

"Okay," Leah was quick to drop the subject when she realised you weren't going to open and talk about things. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it but just remember that I'm always here to listen. Anytime that you want too, alright?" she told you.

Unfortunately you were stubborn to not give in and blurt everything out in the open. You were just trying to wrap your head around the idea of things and see things for how they really were.

"Uh huh," You mumbled a response as you got up from the sofa and trudged in the direction of your bedroom.

Leah exhaled a sigh as she shook her head, herself heading into the kitchen to make a start on dinner. The woman knew better than to try and get you to talk if you didn't want too.

She'd always been around to witness the moments like this and the backlash of it. Of course the blonde knew this was all stemmed down to one person causing you to be like this and she hated that you were left upset every single time.

Every single time you and your mum fought, you'd always ended up quiet and in a bad mood, often resulting in lashing out at people around you as a coping mechanism.

None of the girls ever took it to heart, they were old enough to realise that none of your anger was directly aimed at them and there was bigger issues to be dealt with.

The Arsenal women all had their own opinions on the teens' mother but they would never voice them out loud to you. It wouldn't be fair on the youngest in the squad even after the countless times they had seen the girl upset by her own mums actions.

Ever since the teen had moved in, there had been several nights where Leah would be the one to comfort the girl and pick up the peices, waking up in the middle of the night to hear the teen's heartbroken sobs and feeling her own heart shatter every single time, wanting nothing more than take away any sort of pain the girl was experiencing.

It was heartbreaking for all of the team to witness and always sought out to comfort the teen no matter the situation. They knew that no matter they say, they couldn't stop her contacting her and she would be able to make her own decision soon enough when she turned 18 and until then they'd be the ones' to pick up the broken pieces when the mum let her daughter down.

They were your family, not by blood but by choice. You'd probably be lost without them sometimes.

"I... I should have realised sooner," You thought to yourself as you lay crumpled up on your bed that following night, it was almost near 4 in the morning and you were still wide awake with things racing through your head.

You couldn't help but think about things, how you should have noticed the tell-tail signs of her gaslighting you were old enough to properly realise, that was your first mistake.

Your second being that you believed her manipulation, she would always twist things to make her seem like the victim in all different situations - back when you were a child and even now as an adult.

How long it had taken you finally realise it after all of these years. Why hadn't you realised it sooner?

Without realising, you were sobbing aloud as you clutched on to your pillow tightly - the pent up anger was replaced by complete sadness and loss. You only ever wanted the approval of your mum about things and you fought so hard for it.

The phone call, the hopeful seal of approval...  Every time it always seemed to be the same type of emotions when you spoke to your mum - It was a vicious cycle of emotional abuse, or so you'd been told from other people and you never wanted to believe it.

Only problem was that you'd not been able to see it yourself, even if it was clear as day. Even if regardless of a psychological therapist telling you this, you refused to believe them words. Nor your team mates, who had realised it the first time they had the chance to meet her and even then you wouldn't listen or hear them out.

It was your mum, your flesh and blood so how could she be like that? You had never been able to wrap your head around it.

The sound of sobs were what woke Leah up, she was quick to pad out of her bedroom and down the hall to where your bedroom was. "Kidda?" The women pushed the door open and her heart cracked to see you looking so distraught and vulnerable.

The blonde was quick to move to be right beside you, she was always the one to comfort you and she wouldn't ever stop doing that as long as you needed her.

"Hey, kidda. Come here," The blonde scooped you up in her arms and rocked you all while she ran her slender fingers through your messy bedhead. "You're okay. I'm here," she reassured you.

Leah was always patient enough to wait for you to calm down before she gave you the chance to speak, she wouldn't ever push you to talk if you didn't want too.

"L... Le," You cried aloud as you clutched onto her. You breath became shaky as sobs wracked your body.

"I'm here, it's okay," Leah spoke calmly, continuing to try and comfort you the best way she knew but she already knew it was going to be a long night ahead of them - An emotional night that would leave you drained tomorrow.

A vicious cycle of on a loop.

"Ready to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours, huh?" The blonde tried to carefully ask.

There was another brief pause of silence, nothing but the quiet sobs coming from you as the blonde continued to comfort you and reassure you that she was here and not leaving you.

To Leah's surprise, you did open up this time around, even if you didn't mean too.

"I should have realised. I should have... I should have realised," You made the mistake to speak aloud rather than think it like you thought you had.

"You should have realised what, kidda?" Leah questioned, confused about what you meant.

You snap your head in the blondes' direction as you bit your bottom lip, debating whether to be open with your thoughts that you tried so hard to keep buried inside.

"About my mum... I should have realised," You repeated your words as you fought the tears from spilling. "She's so... She's so-- Why does everything I tell her, why does it always get turned back around so it's about her?" That was it. You blurted out your own feelings - There was no hiding how you felt anymore.

Leah smiled sympathetically and moved onto the sofa to sit closer to you, wrapping her free arm around your shoulder to comfort you, "I... I don't know kidda," she spoke honestly.

"So many people, so many people have told me-- They've warned me about her but I have... I never wanted to listen," You confessed, the tears openly rolled down your cheeks and you probably looked a right blubbering mess but you couldn't stop your emotions pouring out. "And now... Now I finally realise how it's always been. Why is she like that, Le?" You asked.

"I can't say I know the answer to that one kidda, I wish I knew," Leah replied, exhaling a sigh as she couldn't fathem herself how a mother could be like that with her own child, she felt so much for the girl and always wished she could make the situation better for her. "Listen, I know it's hard but you've got us. All of us girls here at Arsenal and you're so loved by all of us." she told you.

"I... I just want her to love me, and she just... she doesn't even care about my feelings!" You stated, roughly wiping at your tear stained cheeks angrily to the point that you made them red. "Why does she always throw everything back in my face? Everything that I have ever done, she's always made it about her... Always!" you cried.

"I know, I know it hurts... I know it does," You kept your head buried in the blondes' chest as you hiccuped from the sudden breakdown in the middle of the night. "And I am sorry that you have to go through this. It's not fair on you kidda." Leah added, biting her bottom lip.

All of emotion had led you feeling exhausted in the end, you fought it hard to keep your eyes open as you lay slumped against the blonde woman.

"Come on let's get you back into bed, yeah? I mean you're almost falling asleep on me here, kidda," Leah joked with you, hoping for you to even crack a small smile as she gently moved you back to your bed and tucked you in under the duvet. "I'm so sorry you have had to deal with the kidda but you know you have a family here with us. We may not be blood but we really love you kidda." You heard the faint words spoken to you as you felt your eye lids close, completely warn out.

Sure, the Arsenal women weren't family by blood but instead they were family by choice and that was more important. They were there for you whenever you needed them and you knew you felt safe with them around. You truly felt happy with your chosen family.

[multific]

Padam Padam

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Your father wished for you to marry Prince Aemond to strengthen the bond between your and his family. What your father didn’t know is that you heard about the Prince before, and you were very interested.

You swore your heart stopped and then quickened up the moment you saw him.

Aemond Targaryen.

You heard the rumours about his eye, yet all failed to mention the handsome face, the tall figure and the built muscles.

Your father wished for you to marry Prince Aemond to strengthen the bond between your and his family.

It was purely political and yet you couldn't stop staring at him. His handsome face, his beautiful hair, his tall frame and his long fingers, which you were sure could be used for other things than holding a sword.

You didn't say anything during dinner. You mainly observed his family and fantasised about your future husband.

You could faintly hear your father talking to the Queen about the details of your wedding, but your senses were mainly focused on the man sitting across from you.

After dinner, you were ready to head to bed. Sleep off your sinful thoughts, but as you rounded the corner, the same man stood in your doorway, waiting for you.

"My Prince, how may I help you?" you asked as you walked up to him, not looking into his eye.

"Am I truly that repulsive that you refuse to look at me?" his voice was filled with venom and anger.

You should have known that he was cautious about his lost eye.

"Quite the opposite, My Prince." you answered honestly and hoped no one else was there to hear.

"You dare lie to me?!" he almost yelled, but he did raise his voice, which was not appreciated by you. Your eyes met his.

"I will have to ask you to not raise your voice at me. I am to be your wife, not your slave, it is not my fault you don't believe my words. And now, I would like to go and sleep, excuse me." you said as you rounded him.

He just stood there, too stunned to speak. By the time he gathered himself, you already locked yourself into your chambers.

He could only stare at the closed door before he turned to leave.

---

The next morning you woke up, you recalled the events before you got into your bed and you felt both relieved and bad.

You were glad you stood up to Aemond and didn't let him yell at you. But you also feared he might want to call the wedding off.

You felt like you should apologise, but at the same time, you didn't want to.

You didn't want for him to know that it was okay to yell at you. You were not about to have a relationship where you would go insane much like your aunt did.

You entered the hall for breakfast.

"Daughter! Sit next to the Prince." your father said and you obliged.

Sitting down next to Aemond and to your other side was his sister.

After breakfast Aemond's mother asked you to walk you through the castle with you.

Now, you have spoken with the Queen before so you didn't feel as nervous.

You had a feeling that she liked you. Or she really wouldn't let you marry her son. You assumed.

Later that day, you were resting in your room when there was a knock.

"Come in." you looked up from your book and your eyes met with the Prince. "Prince Aemond, how may I help?"

"I came to apologise for my behaviour. Yesterday, I wasn't myself, please forgive me."

"I forgive you, but I will not believe that it wasn't you, My Prince." Aemond looked at you, confused, so you continued. "I believe everything you said you meant, I believe you are holding back always. I can see in your posture. You have some deep regrets and anger inside you. A huge fire is burning inside you, My Prince."

"And you will be the wife of such a man. You might end up getting burnt."

"I sure hope so. If it means the fire is who you really are, Aemond, I wish to see it. All of it."

"How can you say that? Most women run from me, scream even just by the thought of me."

"I suppose you can say, I am not most women." you stood up from your chair, your book on the floor, long forgotten. "I always admired fire, I heard of you, when my father told me, I am to marry you, I felt joy. If what you are saying is true, if women are truly scared of you, then excuse me for admitting this, but at least I can be selfish and keep you all to myself."

"You want me?" he genuinely sounded surprised.

"With everything I have. Anything you are willing to give me, and I will give you myself." for a moment his eyes went over your figure. "I believe that everyone is born to find their pair. I trust my instincts that you, Aemond, are my other half."

"You are speaking nonsense." you smiled softly as you watched the light hit his perfect face. Oh, how you wished to run your fingers through his beautiful white locks. 

"It is okay if you won't believe me now, I am sure you will soon realize I do not lie."

"Did your father put you up for this? Forced you to speak such things?" he was getting angry, you took a step closer and placed your hand on his chest.

"My father would marry me to a goat. I am speaking the truth." his eye searched yours.

But you were no liar.

You meant every word.

You deserved him as much as he deserved you.

You wanted him as much as he wanted you.

And soon, he would realize that he was destined to be yours as much as you were destined to be his.

His lips hang open as he thought.

He looked ever more handsome when he was thinking.

Soon, he moved his head, letting his lips rest on yours.

He wasn't skilled, but neither were you. It was okay.

More than okay.

It was perfect.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Padam padam.

Yes, you were ready to get burnt.

A/N: This piece was inspired by a song with the same title from Kylie Minogue. Hope you enjoyed it! 

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