#really really really love how the bloom came out

[theta-walti]

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Summary (requested): Hi! Would you maybe write something for lia wälti were her and reader are really close friends who do a lot of domestic stuff together (think cooking, keeping each other company when studying etc) and everyone except those two knows that they are in love with each other? I just have this scene in my head where reader walks into the living room to find lia on the couch wearing their hoodie cuddling with readers dog and just thinking "i'm gonna marry this girl" and that being the realisation that the feelings are indeed more than friendly. Maybe some confessions and fluff after that

Warnings: Alcohol and fluff

A/N: ahhhhh l love Wally sm, l has bracelet for her, again, this has been in drafts as long as l can remember, this is dedicated to the anon who waited so patiently for so long, thank you and enjoy 🫶

Word count: 2.5k

"Lia!"

You said, lying on the living room sofa, completely bored out of your mind.

You had came over to Lia's this morning, only because you both don't have training today and the Swiss invited you over, usually when both you and Lia are free you would spend the day together, weather it's at hers or at yours.

This started when you met each other in Langnau, when she was coached by her father, you and her were the only girls on the team, so automatically you two became friends really quickly, and ever since you and the Swiss is done everything together, even moved up the ranks together, from Langnau to Huttwill Training Center to Team Bern West to BSC Young Boys for a year before signing to Arsenal in 2018, whenever boys bullied her you stood up for her and vice versa, that's how your friendship bloomed, that is until you started to develop feelings for the Swiss.

"yes kärlek?"

Lia said, looking up from her laptop, she is currently sitting on the kitchen counter, studying for her bachelor's degree.

"I'm bored!"

You throw your head back and groan. Usually, you and Lia would be spending time together, but ever since you arrived, she’s been too focused on studying, leaving you feeling a bit neglected.

Suddenly, an idea sparks in your mind—you know the Swiss won't like it, but you decide to go for it anyway. Rising from your seat, you stride over to where she's sitting, and without a word, you close her laptop and took it. Lia looks up at you, a bit stunned, before letting out a small, exasperated protest.

"Hey, that's my uni work! Give it back!"

She tried to get it back by reaching out, but you were having none of it.

"No! You've been ignoring me since l arrived. You invited me over, so now you have to hang out with me!"

You said, hugging her laptop close to your body, refusing to give Lia back her laptop. The Swiss got off the kitchen counter and started walking towards you.

"please Härlig, don't be so chrildish. Give me back my laptop. This is important!"

You start to back up, leaving the kitchen with a big smirk on your face. Then you start to run, running around the house with Lia behind you, chasing you, trying to get her laptop back.

"I'm not saying this again! Give me my laptop back!"

Lia said with a smile on her face, You yelled back a no and kept running, and you continued to do so until you faced a dead end, somehow you ran into the bedroom and ended up in the gap between the bed and the bedside table, basically tucking yourself in a corner, Lia smirked as she walked towards you slowly, her head high and hand out.

"You have nowhere else to run now. Give me my laptop,"

She said with an outstrached hand and stopped in front of you.

"YES, I do!"

You declared, scanning the room before charging forward with determination, aiming to bypass Lia and return to the living room. However, fate had other plans.

Mid-stride, you stumble over one of the bed's legs, instinctively reaching for Lia's arm for support. Instead, you only succeed in pulling her down with you. Her initial shock quickly gives way to a smirk as she realizes your vulnerable position, now looming over you with a newfound confidence. Despite the situation, you cling tightly to the laptop, refusing to surrender it.

That is, until you notice the position you’re in and froze, realization flooding over you. When you glance back at Lia, a mischievous grin is spreading across her face. Seizing the moment, she swiftly takes the laptop from your grasp, leaving you sprawled on the floor with a blush creeping across your cheeks. As she steps back, you lie there, replaying the scene in your mind, trying to process what just happened.

Just on cue, your phone rang in a notification. Thank gods, it was a text from your favourite teammate (you won't admit it, but she is) and one of your closest friends, Leah.

Hey, me and the team are going out tonight, you wanna come with? Bring Wally too if you want, l texted her, but she never replies

You replied immediately.

Yes! I'll tell her now, where is it?

You and Leah continued texting, and she gave you the address and time. Turns out you and Lia only have two hours left until the meet-up.

"Lia! Lee just told me that the team is hanging out tonight. They invited you too, It's in two hours"

You said as you walked out of the bedroom and into the living room where your best friend is, the Swiss turned her focus to you as soon as you entered the room, telling her the news.

"Where are they meeting up?"

Lia asked with an arched eyebrow. This is the first time she has heard this, or someone has already texted her, but because her phone was on dnd, she didn't know.

"A bar, apparently it's new and everyone wanted to go"

She leaned back, considering the invitation. You knew how she could be, sometimes hesitant to go out when she had work on her plate, even when it meant spending time with the team. Still, you were determined to have a proper night out with her by your side.

"Oh, come on, Lia. It’ll be fun! Besides, we haven’t all gone out together in ages,"

you pleaded, throwing her a hopeful smile. She looked over to you for a moment. Then she sighed, agreeing to go with you and the team.

"Alright, alright, but only for a bit. I still need to finish that assignment later."

You grinned, feeling triumphant.

"Yes! You won’t regret it, I promise."

The next two hours passed quickly as the two of you got ready. There was a comfortable rhythm to it, swapping makeup, sharing jewellery, and debating over outfits. You couldn’t help but feel a little thrill when Lia playfully pushed you aside to steal the mirror for herself, laughter bubbling between you both.

Finally, you were ready, and with one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your things and followed Lia out the door.

At the bar, the energy was electric. Leah spotted you as soon as you entered and pulled you both into a hug.

"Finally! Thought you two wouldn’t show,"

slshe teased, grinning. Leah knows that Lia can be serious when it comes to her work. She had no idea how you did it, but she was glad you did it.

The night was a blur of laughter, drinks, and dancing. You felt yourself relax completely, revelling in the time with your friends and, most of all, with Lia by your side. Every so often, you’d catch her eye across the room, and she’d smile, that warm, familiar look that made you feel closer than ever. A few of your teammates had noticed this, but they didn't say anything.

At one point, after a round of shots, you both found yourselves laughing uncontrollably at some inside joke. She leaned in close, her hand brushing yours, and the warmth of her touch lingered. For a split second, you thought about how easy it would be to just lean in, close the distance between you two, and say what you’d been feeling for so long. But you held back, unsure if now was the right moment.

As the night continued, Lia had looked at you, her eyes soft with something unreadable. "Thanks for dragging me out tonight,"

she murmured as her face s close to yours.

"I needed this."

"Anytime,"

Your heart skips a beat as you respond, barely able to keep the excitement from your voice. Lia’s smile widens, and before you know it, she’s pulling you onto the dance floor. The two of you begin to move in sync, letting the rhythm of the music guide the two of you.

After a few more drinks, you and Lia were completely wasted and could barely walk. Thankfully, Beth and Katie had came to the rescue.

"Alright, let's get you two home, you two have enough to drink"

Beth said, carrying you by your arm and you stumbled out of the bar, Katie had carried Lia and also did the same, when they got to the car you had protested.

"But we haven't danced yettttt!"

You slurred your words as Beth put you in the passenger seat of her car and katie and put lia and herself in the back.

"Yes, you did. You danced with Lia all night, remember?"

You had foggy memory because of the alcohol, but somehow, you had remembered what happened in the last hour of your life.

"Oh yeaaaaaaa!"

You had stopped for a minute before you continued your sentence.

"Where is Lia?"

You looked around frantically trying to search for your best friend, Beth had chuckled at your state.

"She’s in the back, turn your head, and you'll see her"

Everyone in the team knew that your friendship with Lia was not just friendship. It was something more. They can see it through every training, the way you two look at each other, your inside jokes, and the small gestures Lia does for you, no matter if it is after losing a match or winning one, you and Lia was always togather.

When you had turned around, you saw Lia was already asleep, leaning on the Katie's shoulder. A small part of you had wanted to at the back, so her head could be on your shoulder, not Katie's. You didn't realise you had stared at her for so long until Beth had announced that she had arrived at your apartment.

"Come on, let's get you up"

Beth was the first to exit the car, helping you out while Katie shook Lia awake and did the same. It seemed like the smart choice to take the elevator, so the two sober friends led the way. As soon as you stepped inside, you immediately searched for Lia again. This time, she was awake but still groggy and a bit tipsy. You took her hand and held onto it tightly for the entire ride until Beth had to gently pry your fingers apart to take the keys from you.

Once Beth opened the door to the apartment, your Goldendoodle, Peanut, was already asleep, waiting for you. She wasted no time in ushering you to bed, thinking that as soon as your head hit the pillow, you'd drift off to sleep. But that was quickly proven wrong. The moment you landed on the bed, you whined for Lia, who was sprawled on the couch. Beth reassured you that Lia wasn’t going anywhere, but your cries only intensified. Finally, she offered to get you a glass of water to help sober you up before you went to find Lia.

What Beth didn’t know was that the moment she left the room, you slipped out of bed and made your way downstairs. Slowly but surely, you found your way to the living room and joined Lia on the couch. Without a second thought, you lay down beside her. She stirred, blinking sleepily before wrapping her arms around you, and within moments, you both fell asleep.

By the time Lia had settled on the couch, Katie had already left. When Beth returned with the glass of water, she paused at the sight of you cuddled up with Lia, both of you fast asleep. A chuckle escaped her lips as she placed the glass on the table and snapped a quick photo of the adorable scene to send to the group chat. Afterwards, she filled another glass and set some painkillers on the table, then quietly left the apartment, leaving you and Lia in your sleep.

---☆☆☆---

It was after already afternoon when you woke up the next day. The sunlight had filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room. You had slowly gotten up from the empty couch, holding your head because of the major headache you are currently having. After you have stabled yourself, you had slowly padded towards the kitchen, planning to get a glass of water. But when you arrived you saw something that warmed your heart.

Lia, a cup of tea in her hand, was sitting on the floor, her slender fingers slowly running her fingers though the fur of Peanut, who was laying contentedly, his head resting on her lap, his tail wagging lazily.

You couldn't help but smile as you entered the room, taking in the sight. Lia looked up, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth as she saw you.

"Hey Kärlek,"

she greeted, her voice soft and inviting.

"Hey,"

You replied, unable to tear your gaze away from her. She looked so effortlessly beautiful. Maybe last night's alcohol hasn't been completely warned off yet, Lia was wearing one of your oversized grey hoodies like it was made just for her. And in that moment, it hit you like a ton of bricks – you were in love with her.

You took the painkiller and glass of water Bath had left you and took a seat beside her. Suddenly you felt a rush of emotions swirling within you, threatening to burst forth like a dam breaking.

"Lia,"

You began, you voice barely above a whisper, both because of your hangover and the fear of this turning into something bad.

"There's something I need to tell you."

Her eyes had turned to you, searching with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

"What is it?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage before speaking.

"I... I think I've known it for a while now, but it's taken me until last night to truly realize it. Lia.... l like you, like l wanna be with you."

The words hung in the air between you and Lia. You felt a vulnerability that you feel exposed to. But as Lia's eyes widened with surprise, you saw something else flicker within them – hope? Maybe? Hopefully?

"Really?"

Lia whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the room. You nodded, unable to trust your voice as you leaned in closer to her, your heart pounding.

"Yes, really. And seeing you here, wearing my hoodie, cuddling with Peanut... It just made me realize that I never want to let you go. I want to spend every moment with you, making more memories together."

Tears welled up in Lia's eyes as she reached out to cup your face in her hands, her touch gentle yet electrifying. And in that moment, as your lips finally met in a soft and emotional kiss, when you pulled away, a big smile appeared on your face.

"Does that mean you like me too?"

You said excitedly, a bit too loud for a hangover person.

"yes dummy, yes l do, l like you too, now lower your voice please"

Your smile was so big that you had leaned in and kissed the Swiss again.

The next morning, you and Lia walked into the changing room hand in hand. Just as you're about to head to your respective cubbies, you share a quick kiss, savouring the moment. Suddenly, a loud yell pierces the air, echoing through the room.

"Finally!"

The whole room erupted in laughter.

A/N: ANDDDD THAT'S A WARP! thank you sm for reading this. Two fics in a day omg, l hope you had fun <3

This is Theta, signing out, see you next time!

[krirebr]

random hoeing:

Steve catching you in the rain, his white shirt completely soaked and transparent

Ok, this has to be Neighbor Steve.

Warnings: explicit language, more fluff than I normally do, completely unedited, 18+ - MINORS DNI

After Steve caught you ogling him during the heatwave, the tone of your conversations when you run into him in your building has gotten decidedly flirtier. But for whatever reason, that's where it's stopped. As much as you've tried to send signals that you are very open to more, he's never taken you up on it. Which is fine. It's fine. Totally fine. You are very cool with it. The thought of it definitely doesn't make you shrivel up inside. You are so cool.

All of that is the furthest thing from your mind right now, though, as you and your dog run through the rain. It'd been such a nice day, but as you hit the halfway point of your usual longer route, the sky unexpectedly opened up and you and your poor dog were hit by an absolute downpour. Now, finally home, you're both completely soaked and desperate to get inside and dry.

After some fumbling, you get the door to your building unlocked and opened. Just as you're about to get inside and let the door close behind you, you hear your name ring out. You turn around to see Steve hurrying up the path. "Hold the door!" he yells.

You freeze, doing as he asked. Holy shit. He's just as soaked as you, but while you're sure you look like a drowned rat, he very much does not. He– Well. He– He's wearing that damned white t-shirt again. Except it's not white now, it's translucent. You can see everything – that tattoo you spotted before, and a few more to go with it, an incredible set of abs, nipples. Holy shit.

He quickly ushers you inside, thank god, because you can't move on your own, your eyes still stuck to his chest. "Fuck, that came out of nowhere, huh?" he chuckles.

The moment you're out of the rain, your dog proceeds to do her best to shake herself dry, as if the three of you weren't already dripping all over the entryway. "Oh, shit," you mumble, reaching for her without really knowing what to do.

Steve just laughs. And then does it himself, shaking out his golden locks. Part of his hair flops down over his forehead, and you do your best to hold in your gasp. Really it's just so unfair that he could get caught in a rainstorm and come out looking like that. What the actual fuck? you think to yourself.

Except, judging by the way his head whips around to look at you, maybe you didn't think it. Maybe it was more out loud than you'd meant. Oh god. You immediately start babbling, which is unfortunately just as uncontrollable as the initial slip-up you're trying to make up for. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I just– I mean– Look at you!" You throw a wild gesture at him as he just stares at you with his mouth open, trying to take in your ramble. "It's cats and dogs out there and you look like that?? While I–" another wild gesture, at yourself this time. "I just– How is it fair that you're so beautiful??"

"You think I'm beautiful?" he finally manages to interject.

"Huh?" And that's when your brain finally catches up. Oh dear god. What is wrong with you?? You cautiously glance at him to find him staring at you, not upset, but like he's trying to figure you out. Fuck it, you suddenly think. You've already embarrassed yourself. You have nothing left to lose. "You wanna get dinner with me sometime?"

You swear that the smile that blooms on Steve's face is bright and warm enough to dry you both off. "I was starting to worry I was reading your signals wrong. Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Your answering smile is strong enough to push all the clouds away.

��

Thanks for the fun prompt, Eva!

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[fatgirlonadate-blog]

21 Days - Day 13

The first sneeze was oddly endearing; it was the first time you'd ever heard him make such a sound and you secretly treasured it. It was another new memory to file away in the library of Xavier experiences in your mind.

The second and third sneezes were also cute, and you'd started to wonder if maybe Xavier had allergies. It was an odd thought. He so often seemed indestructible, and it had never occurred to you that he might have such a normal weakness. It made him feel more tangible somehow - less otherworldly.

The sneezes and small coughs that came after were mostly drowned out by the sound of your status report with Jenna. They were just a background hum while you sat in the living room and explained to her, again, that you still didn't have much to go on.

Jenna was patient, as always, and asked the same questions as before. Lying to her wasn't an option, not with the way her keen eyes cut right through you and could detect bullshit a mile away. So you stuck to the truth, just not the full truth.

There was no good way to explain that you spend more time wondering how to get Xavier's clothes off than you do trying to get information about the suspect. So you conveniently left that part out and focused instead on your plans to spend the next week scouting the neighboring businesses and shops. It wasn't a great strategy - one that was made up on the spot - but Jenna had seemed to agree that it was a good idea.

By the time you'd finished the call, Xavier's soft sounds of distress coming from the bedroom had quieted and the apartment was silent except for the small pattering of rain against the windows.

"Xav?" You call, wandering down the hall and quietly opening the bedroom door.

He's lying on the bed, huddled under a blanket, and you watch the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest for a few moments. Tiptoeing closer, you see that his cheeks are flushed and his ash-blonde hair is sticking damply around his hairline. Heat warms your palm instantly as you sit on the bed and press your hand to his forehead. His eyes remain closed, his breathing deep and even, but his skin is hot under your fingers.

"Xavier?" You whisper, brushing his damp locks away from his forehead, a feeling of worry gnawing at your stomach. This does not look like allergies.

His eyes flutter open, unfocused on yours, before he groans and closes them again like just the act of keeping them open is painful. He shifts listlessly, his arm reaching out for you but falling short by a few inches before stilling on the bed.

The small gesture awakens something infinitely tender inside of you. He's never sick - never weak. But right now he looks almost fragile - like he needs you. He's just a boy, you realize. Your sick, sweet boy who is vulnerable in a way you've never seen before. The sight steals the breath from your chest, and in its place blooms a certainty that is both natural and extraordinary all at once.

Falling in love is like being struck by lightning, you think. You can see it building as the clouds roll in, feel it rising in the tension of the air, and sense it before it comes. But it does not really hit you until it strikes, and once it does, you are struck instantly and completely by it - helpless but to let it flow through you. And you know undoubtedly that is what you are right now, helpless but to love him.

It was bound to happen eventually; you can only fall for so long before you finally hit the ground. And now, that moment had arrived. There was no grand gesture in it; no romantic words or passionate declarations that finally tipped the scale. It was just a sick boy, shivering in a quiet room, using the last of his strength to reach for you.

"Hey, I’m right here," you murmur, reaching out to take his hand. Your own trembles slightly as you realize how totally and completely you have fallen for him.

His eyes blink open again, and this time he finds your face and focuses on it. His smile is weak, and his voice sounds hoarse and rougher than usual, "Was I asleep for a long time?"

"Not for a long time. Maybe an hour."

"Where were you?" he asks, tightening his fingers around your hand.

"I had a meeting with Jenna. You slept through it."

"I'm so tired..." He breathes the words out, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

This is not normal tiredness. You've seen him all sorts of tired; from falling asleep mid-conversation to actually sleeping while standing up. But this is clearly something different, and the impossible idea that Xavier, untouchable and indestructible, might actually be ill solidifies in your mind.

"I think you're sick," You say dumbly, stating the obvious.

"Not sick," he mumbles, "just tired."

You stare at him for a long moment as he closes his eyes again, noting the shivers wracking his body. He is most definitely sick - you're just not sure how sick. Fevered, definitely. You don't need a medical degree to know that.

Even half asleep, he seems to sense your movement as you rise from the bed, his fingers tightening around your hand instinctively.

"Don't leave me," he begs, his tone needy and urgent. "You can't ever leave me again. Please. I'll do anything."

You freeze with your hips hovering above the edge of the bed, the desperation in his voice holding you to the spot. When your eyes land on his, the pain you see there is confusing and heartbreaking. Why is he looking at you like that? What is he talking about? You can't recall a single time you've ever left him, but he's looking at you like he's terrified going to disappear.

"Xav, I'm not leaving." You say softly, sitting back down on the bed, confusion and concern warring in your mind.

"Good," Xavier says softly, the tension straining his neck and shoulders relaxing at your words. "I missed you so much. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

His tone is genuine and he looks relieved that you're no longer pulling away, but it only serves to make you feel more confused. He is acting like you were gone for years rather than an hour. You're still trying to wrap your mind around his words as his grip on your hand loosens and he falls back into a fitful sleep.

It's worse than you thought, you realize. He's not making any sense - remembering something that doesn't have anything to do with you. Jealousy burns in your chest as it occurs to you that maybe those words are meant for someone else - some other girl he's so afraid of losing - but you push the thought aside. The only thing that matters right now is taking care of him.

You gently pull your hand free from his grasp, careful not to wake him, and stand from the bed. His eyes snap open at the loss of contact, and you interrupt him before he can speak, "I'll be right back. I'm just going to check your temperature, okay? Hold on a sec."

You rush toward the bathroom, trying to ignore the way he whimpers your name as you slip out of the bedroom. Anxiety gnaws at you, a tight knot in your stomach, as you wonder what the hell is going on. Is he hallucinating? Is that typical for a fever? It doesn’t seem like it—not with any fevers you've ever had, at least.

Your breaths are shaky as you scrabble around the bathroom cabinet, unsure if you even own a thermometer. Neither of you had a lot of time to prepare for this trip, and it's unlikely either of you would have thought to bring one. However, luck is on your side as you find one jammed into the corner with the bandaids. You're not even sure where it came from, but its origin is the least of your worries at the moment.

The anxiety is starting to feel a bit more like panic as Xavier's words replay in your mind, and you resist the urge to consult doctor Google. There's a better option, and he is just a text away.

You: Can a fever cause hallucinations?

A few moments pass, and you check the time, realizing that it's early afternoon and Zayne is probably working. It's selfish to think that he would ever be at your beck and call; he could be elbow deep in someone's chest right now. But your phone reliably buzzes in your hand seconds later.

Zayne: Are you ill? Send me your address. I'll come now.

You: No I'm fine! But I think my partner is really sick. He has a fever. I think he's hallucinating.

Zayne: Hallucination is not uncommon with high fevers. What is his temperature?

You: Uhh...I don't know yet.

Zayne: Don't you think that might be useful information?

You: I'm working on it!

Zayne: Fever in adults is rarely cause for concern and is best treated at home.

You: Oh ok. What should I do?

Zayne: Acetaminophen every 4-6 hours will suffice. Proper hydration is also helpful.

You: Thank you Dr. Zayne! I don't know what I would do without you.

Zayne: It's better for both of us to never find out.

You smile briefly at his response - his wry dedication, and slip your phone back into your pocket. You snag the Tylenol from the top shelf, and jog back into the bedroom with both items in hand. Xavier is still lying in the same spot, and the relief on his face is clear the moment he sees you.

"You came back."

"Of course I came back, Xav," You soothe him, sitting on the edge of the bed, showing him the thermometer and the medicine.

His eyes are focused only on yours, as if the contents of your hands don’t exist, and he grasps your thigh in his palm. "I won't let you go. Not this time. I'll stay here with you."

His lucidity right now is questionable, but that knowledge doesn't stop the ache his words cause in your chest. Whatever he is hallucinating is torturing him, and the anguish and devotion shining in his eyes is hard to look at. A dozen questions burn your throat, but you swallow them—pressing for details might only make whatever he's hallucinating feel more real.

"No one is going anywhere, bunny. I promise," You say, guiding the thermometer to his mouth. "Open up for me."

He obediently parts his lips, allowing you to slide the thermometer in, and you hold your breath as you wait for the results. The moment stretches, each passing second causing the knot in your stomach to tighten. After what feels like a small eternity, the thermometer finally emits a series of sharp beeps.

103 degrees Fahrenheit. Shit. This is bad. You already knew it was bad, but this confirms it.

"Xav, I think you need to go to the hospital. Like right now."

He glances at the thermometer and groans softly. "Could've been worse," he mumbles. "I don't need to go to the hospital. It's just a fever."

He is not in a position to know what he needs right now, and your instincts scream that you should ignore him. But Zayne made it seem like this was not such a big deal, and he has yet to ever be wrong. You trust him with your life and, apparently, Xavier's life, too.

"Alright, no hospital. Yet. Can you take these pills for me?" You ask, reaching for the glass of water already sitting on his bedside table.

It's a struggle for him to sit up, and he clutches his head like he's dizzy as he leans back against the headboard. He swallows the pills you press into his mouth with a grimace, then pats the bed beside him.

"Come here."

Lying in bed with someone so fevered that they're not functional is a horrible idea, you know. But the need in his voice is hard to resist, and it would be impossible to deny him anything when he's looking at you like that. Against your better judgment and Dr. Zayne's voice in the back of your mind, you hesitantly slip under the blanket and into bed beside him, leaving as much room between the two of you as possible.

"No, come closer," he says, pulling you forward by your waist with strength you weren't expecting.

He sighs contentedly as you press close, as if the simple act of holding you brings him relief. His arms tighten around you, his forehead resting gently against yours, and it’s instantly clear—even through your clothes—that he’s burning up. Holding him feels like hugging a furnace.

"Your forehead feels pretty cold," He laughs softly. "It might help my temperature go down."

You huff a small laugh, "Just rest, okay? Close your eyes. The medicine will start working soon."

He cups your face as he pulls back to look at you, his fingers burning into your skin. His eyes are uncertain and he searches your face as if trying to memorize it, "You won't leave me, right? I don't know if I can find you again. But I would never stop looking."

The way he says it, so filled with doubt and longing, is nearly unbearable to hear. He says it so brokenly and honestly that it feels like more than just delirium; like he means it more than he has ever meant anything. It's a truth you don't understand, but you believe him.

"Never," You whisper, covering his hand on your cheek with your own. "You're stuck with me forever now. I'm not leaving."

He smiles, the worry fading from his expression as he sinks back into the pillows and closes his eyes. His hand slips down to rest on your neck, his thumb gently tracing along your jawline before he goes still. He drifts back to sleep instantly, his breathing evening out and softening.

You hold him for a long time, counting each of his breaths to try to distract yourself from your tangled thoughts. None of his words made any sense, but they were spoken so genuinely and earnestly that you cannot get them out of your head. He's terrified of losing you, but he has never had you more completely. Why was he so scared? What memory was haunting him? You could spend every moment for the next year trying to figure it out, and probably still be wrong.

You want to ask him—you need to know. He might actually tell you right now, something he’d never reveal if he were fully himself. Could this be the secret he guards so fiercely? This isn't just the rambling of a fever dream; there’s something real beneath it. He spoke as if remembering a mistake, as if he were making a promise. A promise not to leave again. But when had he ever left you? Is that promise for someone else?

The heat radiating from his body is almost overwhelming beneath the blanket and his body trembles against yours as the fever burns through him. He feels damp everywhere you're pressed together, and every small, rattling cough that leaves his mouth jostles you slightly. But still - it's him - your home. And the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear is familiar and comforts your conflicted thoughts. The choice to question him or not is made for you as his warmth and steady pulse lull you to sleep.

By the time you wake, the rain has stopped, and you’re drenched in sweat—whether it’s yours or Xavier’s, you’re not sure. He’s still asleep beside you, breathing steadily, and when you press the back of your hand to his forehead, it’s cooler to the touch.

The medicine must be working. Thank God. Zayne was right. When is he not?

As you pull your hand away, Xavier stirs, his eyes fluttering open slowly. Relief floods through you as his gaze, though tired, appears sharper and more alert. His eyes find yours with surprising clarity, and a gentle, lazy smile spreads across his face. He’s back, you think—fully himself again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Much better. I’m fine now." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You've always had a healing effect on me, didn't you know?"

You roll your eyes at his playful remark, but the knot of worry in your stomach finally relaxes. He must be better—he’s feeling well enough to flirt.

“You are not fine,” you counter, brushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead, still warm to the touch. “I’ll decide when you’re fine. You’re my patient now.”

"I'm okay with this," he answers agreeably, leaning into the press of your hand. His eagerness for your touch reminds you of a happy dog, craving every bit of affection it can get.

"Have you eaten today? You've been asleep for a while now. Do you think you could eat something?"

"Since I'm your patient and you're taking care of me, you decide. What will you prepare for me? Chocolate mousse? Braised short ribs?"

You snort at his suggestions, disentangling yourself from his arms. Of course those would be his requests; he is definitely back to the Xavier you know and love.

Love, that's right. You love him. Not sort of. Not kind of. Not maybe. You do.

"I don't think so, mister." You answer, trying to refocus your thoughts. "Is that what you normally have when you're sick?"

His brows draw together as he thinks for a moment. "This rarely happens. I don't remember what I had last time."

"I was thinking something more along the lines of chicken soup and honey lemon tea."

You ignore his groan of protest as you climb out of the bed, deftly evading the hands that are reluctant to let you leave. The air feels cool against your damp skin, and you shiver slightly as you head into the kitchen. Your thoughts whir as you look through the cabinets and set the kettle to boil.

You love him, and he's keeping something from you, and your life with him here isn't even real whilst also being the only future that you can imagine for yourself. 

Your hands shake slightly as you heat the soup on the stove, and it takes more concentration than it should to pour the tea without spilling it everywhere.

He must love you, too. There is not a universe that exists in which he does not love you, you think. But he is hiding something from you, that much is obvious. You have always sensed it without knowing what it was, and it stands between you like a ghost - invisible but haunting him. The love that he seems to feel for you shines in every look and rings true in every word, but it's incomplete somehow. It's as if there's something, or someone (your mind cruelly suggests), already occupying the space in his heart that you so badly want to fill.

Your hands stop trembling and your racing thoughts begin to slow and settle as you carry his tray back into the bedroom a few minutes later. Now isn't the time to interrogate him, you decide. That's not what he wants, and you're not sure you're ready to hear the truth. You'll exorcize that ghost eventually.

Besides, do the answers even matter if he's not ready to give them yet?

"Here, sit up," you tell him, placing his tray of food and drink on the bedside table as you cross the room. You reach over and prop the pillows against the headboard so he can lean back on them and he eagerly lets you position him however you please.

He sips his tea and eats his soup with none of his usual fervor, but he looks slightly better, definitely more alert and present. From the edge of the bed, you watch him closely, eyes darting over the lingering flush in his cheeks, scanning for any hint that things might still be as serious as you feared. But when he sets the bowl aside and gives you a soft, sheepish smile, some of the tension coiled tightly in your back begins to ease.

"I gave you quite the scare today, huh?"

"That is...an understatement," You laugh, knowing he has no idea just how worried you actually were. "How are you feeling?"

“The medicine helped, but I still feel awful. What should I do?" he asks, his voice soft and pitiful, as he shifts to lie back down on the bed.

Despite his words and tone, there's a hint of playfulness in his expression—his lips are pouted, plump and full, and his eyes have an unmistakably hopeful look in them. 

It’s obvious that he’s feeling a bit better if he has the energy to pout, and he's clearly up to something. 

You scoot forward and reach out to feel his forehead, which is still warm but no longer scalding. "Hmm. You're still kind of warm, Xav. Maybe a cold compress might help. Like a damp towel?"

"A damp towel?" He repeats, as if it is the worst idea he has ever heard. "No, I don't need that."

"Uh, what about more tea then?"

He shakes his head, his pout becoming more pronounced. "No, not tea either."

"Should I take your temperature again?" You offer.

He fixes you with an unimpressed look and shakes his head again.

"I'm not a very good nurse. You're my first patient," you admit with a small laugh. "I suck at this."

His pout curls up into a smile, and you can see the gears whirring to life behind his eyes before the words even make it to his mouth.

"Caring for me isn't that hard." He says, shifting to scoot over in the bed and patting the spot beside him. "You can do anything to take care of me, like keeping me warm."

"Are you cold?" You ask skeptically.

He nods, a smile starting to form on his lips before he schools his face back into a pout, "Uh huh. I feel cold all of a sudden. Maybe the blanket is too thin or maybe I'm still really sick..."

He shuffles the blankets around helplessly before reaching for you, "Do you want to lie down next to me? I'm ill, so I don't have the strength to do anything..."

You have to fight a smile as you disapprovingly raise an eyebrow at his last comment. It's such an obvious ploy, but it's also just pathetic enough that you cannot find it in your heart to resist him.

"Fine," you mutter, but a smile twitches at the corner of your lips, betraying your amusement, as you slip into the bed beside him. His hand is on your waist firmly tugging you closer the moment the blankets settle against your skin.

"Oh, what's this?" You laugh against his chest. "I thought you didn't have the strength to do anything?"

"You were so far away," he replies, gently stroking your hair. "I couldn't feel your warmth. You have to help me recharge."

You hum in acknowledgement, wrapping an arm around his chest. "How's this then? Warmer now?"

He nuzzles his face against your hair and places a kiss against the top of your head, "I do feel warmer now...but it's not enough."

"No?"

You feel him shake his head, and in an instant, he rolls the two of you over, pressing your back into the mattress as he braces his arms on either side of you, settling his weight on top of you.

“If I hold you like this…” he says, nudging your thighs apart with his knees, “it’ll definitely be warmer.”

"Will it?" You ask softly, biting your bottom lip as you look up at him, uncertain of how far you should let him get away with this while he's still sick.

"And if we get closer," he whispers, lowering his weight on top of you, pinning you beneath him. "I'll be able to recover even faster."

The press of his body against yours is warm, but no longer sweltering like it was hours ago. And as he shifts his hips against yours, a new kind of heat ignites low in your belly as you feel the thick length of him pressing against you. This feels like such a good bad idea, but you know you should stop him. He can't have recovered this quickly.

You reluctantly fix him with a stern look, and try to squirm out from under him. "Xav, now is not the time. You were delirious a few hours ago."

"Please," He begs, grabbing your hips firmly with both hands, refusing to let you slip away. "Let me get closer to you."

His plea is filled with desperation and longing, and his soft kisses against your neck are making you forget why exactly you thought this was a bad idea. When his lips find yours, his kiss is so unbelievably filled with need that you melt into it instantly, parting your lips for him without hesitation. A groan catches in his throat as he deepens the kiss and slides his tongue against yours.

"I need you closer," He whispers against your mouth, sliding his hands under your shirt. His fingers tremble against your skin as he cups your breasts through your bra and rocks his hips against yours. His touch is rough and uncoordinated, lacking his usual finesse in his effort to feel more of you.

“So needy,” you tease, watching him lean back to pull off his shirt before quickly covering your body with his, as if he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

"I'm so much needier than you think," He admits, burying his face in your neck. "I always need you like this."

"Like this?" You ask, rolling your hips to meet his and moaning at the friction against your core.

“Yeah,” he groans, his hand slipping from beneath your shirt to glide down your stomach, slowly sliding into the waistband of your leggings. “Like this.”

Your pussy aches with desire as you realize where his hand is headed, and you use the very last of your resolve to grasp his wrist. Your breathing sounds harsh in your ears as you look up at him and gasp out, "Wait, Xav. As your nurse, I have to tell you to stop. You're still sick. You should be resting."

"My nurse?" He repeats, shaking his head and leaning down to kiss you. "I don't need a nurse right now. I need my girlfriend."

His words are a shock to your system, and your fingers on his wrist loosen on their own. His girlfriend. Is that what you are? You'd danced around it for days now, but neither of you had put a label on anything. You'd been waiting - hoping he might ask. Hoping he might give you some indication that your relationship could go on beyond the bounds of this assignment.

“Am I your girlfriend?” You ask breathlessly, a moan escaping your lips as his hand slides under your panties, his fingers finding your slick clit and circling it slowly.

His fingers pause as he registers your question, and his expression morphs from hunger into adorable confusion, his brows knitting together, "Of course. You're mine, aren't you?"

There’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, but the possessive look in his eyes erases any doubt from your mind. There was never any uncertainty for him, you realize. There was no need for a conversation because you'd belonged to him from the first moment he kissed you - maybe even longer.

"Yes," you answer, more certain than you've ever been in your life. "I'm yours."

[justanerddummie]

You know what, after all the talk about Caitlyn tyrant arc I cannot unsee all the parallels between her and Silco.

It always left me a little baffled how Cait was one of the few character who didn't have a clear parallel with another one, yes, there's Grayson, there's Jinx and even Marcus if you will, but at least to me they never quite clicked right. But when you overlap Silco and Cait, the amount of shit they do the same is insane, especially with all the new stuff from s2.

It's not about her simply becoming a villain, it's like a circle with Caitlyn moving forward to reach the point of no return and Silco going backward after reaching the point of no return, meeting just for a moment - at the mad tea party - having different directions.

But let's start from the beginning.

We have a bunch of scenes where we see Silco tell Jinx about how he used to be different, how he had to cut out the part of him that made him soft in order to become the leader of the undercity and at the same time we get to see Caitlyn's entitled ass dissolve as her heart of gold starts making appearances, like when she refused to kill Sevika or when she gave her rifle away for Vi without batting an eye as she starts trusting Vi more and more considering how she just exchanged her only weapon for shimmer to cure Vi. Then in the other episodes they both come clean about the real reasons they are in the undercity and they start really trusting each other, two peas in a pod, just like Vander and Silco back in the day.

But then in oil and water during the rain scene when Vi leaves Cait, I think we can see the first the first seed of betrayal being planted, it's the you don't believe in me anymore, which I think can be connected to when we see Vander strangle Silco, I think that scene is supposed to go after the bridge scene in ep3 it's the aftermath of the battle with enforcers and I can totally see Silco refusing to give up on the dream of Zaun and Vander seeing no other option but to kill him in order to protect his people. I know it's a long stretch but as for Vi and Cait the rain scene is the first rift, for Silco and Vander the scene at the river is the last straw, it also ties very well with Silco being handed Zaun on a silver plate in exchange for the last piece of his heart and refusing (Cait is still not there but I think there will be something like this in s2 at the very end) just as Cait is taking the first steps into not trusting Vi.

(I'm trying to talk about how I see Caitlyn's point of view and not trying to blame Vi, I really do think that Vi had every right to make that decisions in that moment)

And then there's the mad tea party, that in no way can even be compared to the scene on the bridge in ep3 but I would still say that I think Caitlyn has processed the tea party in a similar way Silco has processed the bridge scene and what came after, the betrayal of the people they trusted the most as they watched their respective loved ones die one by the hands of the enforcers and the other by the hands of Jinx.

And as Silco's rage grew he wanted another fight with Piltover and Vander stopped him, Vi stopped Cait from taking the shot on Jinx, making that little seed of betrayal bloom and grow a little.

So by the end of s1 we see Cait is almost in Silco's starting point as he has completed his lap of the circle.

And now I dive into the more speculative section of this long-ass rant, where I'd like to put to comparison Silco's deal with Singed with Cait's alliance with Noxus. And for as much as it pains to admit it, I don't think Cait will fall for Ambessa manipulation, she's too smart, I think that she'll sacrife her morality to achieve what she's set herself up to, same way as Silco did with shimmer. The base violence for change.

I really do think that the similarities will get way stronger in s2 with the seeds of betrayal blooming by the end of s1 especially considering how both Silco and Cait's story revolve around taking control and in a certain way becoming the leaders no one asked for.

They both never wanted to be leaders as Silco was more than happy to let Vander be the face of revolution and Cait couldn't give less of a fuck about politics and spent most of the time in s1 trying to not start a war between Piltover and Zaun and wooing Zaunites women.

But at the same time both of them never shied away from the power, they both kept their heads held high in the face of people who hated them, and both were always arrogant enough to believe they could change the world single-handedly.

With that I conclude this long-ass post both wanting s2 to come faster and dreading the moment it finally comes and honestly hoping that Cait's story doesn't end the same way as Silco did. With some form of redemption arrived a little too late.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Ashes of Affection

Word Count: 1610

Warnings: None

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The crisp autumn air danced with the scent of fallen leaves and the faint hint of caramel apples as Halloween approached Night Raven College. Orange and purple lights twinkled around the campus, casting playful shadows that flickered like ghosts in the fading daylight. Pumpkins adorned doorsteps, their grinning faces glowing in the twilight, creating a festive ambiance that filled the air with excitement.

You made your way toward the Ignihyde dormitory, your heart fluttering at the thought of spending time with Idia. You had both agreed to take a break from studying to enjoy the Halloween festivities, and you couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

As you approached his door, you paused to admire the decorations he had set up. Cobwebs stretched across the corners of the doorframe, and a few mischievous plastic spiders hung from the ceiling, creating an eerie yet charming vibe. The faint sounds of video game battle cries emanated from within, mixing with the occasional giggle from passing students in costume.

With a gentle knock, you pushed the door open, revealing the organized chaos of Idia’s room. Cables snaked across the floor like vines, and various gaming posters adorned the walls, each telling a story of epic adventures and battles fought. The air was filled with the comforting mix of popcorn and the sweet smell of candy.

Idia looked up from his screen, his eyes widening behind his signature blue hair and glasses. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, a hint of surprise coloring his voice. “You came! I mean, not that I expected you not to come. I just thought maybe—” He fumbled over his words, cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he gestured to the mess around him. “Sorry for the mess. I was in the middle of a game.”

You stepped inside, laughing softly. “It’s fine! I love your setup. The decorations are great! It really feels like Halloween in here.” You admired the makeshift haunted house he had built from cardboard boxes, complete with fake bats and a strobe light that flickered eerily.

“Thanks!” Idia said, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “I thought I’d make it a little festive. Halloween is my favorite time of year, even if it’s mostly just me gaming in the dark.” His fingers danced nervously over the controller, the excitement evident in his demeanor.

You settled down on the floor next to him, your heart warm at the sight of his enthusiasm. “What are we playing today?”

Idia’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh! It’s this new RPG that just came out! You get to build your character from scratch, and there’s this Halloween-themed event where you can unlock spooky outfits! There are monsters and magic and… oh, you’ll love it!” He shifted in his chair, excitement radiating from him as he leaned closer, eager to share every detail.

As he explained the plot and the intricate world-building, you noticed how his nervousness seemed to fade away, replaced by the confident glow of someone sharing a passion. The way his eyes sparkled made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile at the passion he displayed.

The hours melted away as you both played, laughter echoing in the room when Idia would dramatically react to in-game events. His animated expressions—eyes widening in shock or his mouth forming an exaggerated ‘O’ of surprise—made it impossible not to feel a connection with him. You found yourself leaning into his shoulder, sharing the comfort of the moment.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room was illuminated only by the glow of the screen and the occasional flicker of the strobe light, casting soft shadows that danced across Idia’s features. You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind that only grew when you were with him.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly, his tone shifting to something more serious. He paused the game, his eyes locking onto yours. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your heart raced, a mix of curiosity and anxiety bubbling up inside you. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face. “Everything I do for you isn’t because I feel obligated. It’s because I love doing it.” He ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous but determined. “I love spoiling you, making you happy. It makes me feel good, knowing that I can make you smile, or laugh, or turn your frown upside down.”

You could feel the sincerity in his words, your heart swelling as he continued. “I want to give you the world, sweetheart. I want to show you way more than that, but the world is all I got. All I can offer.”

His vulnerability was captivating, and you felt a mix of admiration and affection. “Idia, I…” you started, but he interrupted you, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“I don’t know how to kiss, but let me kiss you, and I’ll do it just right.” There was a raw honesty in his expression, and the earnestness behind his words made your heart flutter even faster.

You cupped his cheek gently, feeling the warmth radiate from him. The world around you faded into a soft blur as you stared into his eyes, which reflected a mixture of excitement and fear. “You’ll figure it out,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just trust your instincts.”

With that encouragement, Idia leaned in, hesitantly closing the distance. Your breaths mingled, the moment stretching out like a melody before you both finally met in a soft kiss. It was gentle at first, almost like a question, but it quickly deepened as he found his rhythm. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his emotions wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and wide-eyed, you couldn’t help but laugh. “That was… amazing!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed with happiness.

“Really?” Idia’s voice was filled with disbelief, his cheeks matching the hue of a sunset. “I mean, I didn’t mess it up completely, right?”

“Not at all!” You grinned, feeling buoyant. “You kissed me like a pro!”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

With a playful glint in your eyes, you leaned closer. “Just imagining a love life with you makes me sick,” you teased, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you both. “In the best way possible, of course.”

His expression shifted from surprise to pure delight, a genuine smile breaking through his typical shyness. “Sick? In a good way?”

“Exactly! I’m just saying that being with you feels like a wild adventure, and I’m all in for that!” You leaned back, your heart feeling light as a feather.

“Then let’s be adventurers together,” he said, his voice low but filled with resolve. “My love, I would burn down the world if it meant I could be in your arms. And I would spend the rest of my life with you rising above the ashes…”

The sincerity in his voice sent shivers down your spine. You knew in that moment that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories and dreams, laughing and teasing each other. The connection between you felt electric, alive with possibilities. You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he resumed the game.

“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of me?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his tone.

“Not in a million years,” you replied, your voice soft yet firm. “You’re stuck with me, Idia. I like your quirks. I love the way you can get so passionate about things that light you up.”

He turned to look at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad you think that. I never thought I’d find someone who understands me like you do.”

The vulnerability between you deepened, wrapping you both in a cocoon of intimacy that felt like home. You stayed up late into the night, sharing hopes and dreams, the world outside fading away as you lost yourselves in each other’s laughter and warmth.

As the evening came to a close, you stood at the door, feeling a mix of reluctance and anticipation. Idia followed you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he shuffled beside you.

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked, glancing up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of another day spent together.

“Of course!” he replied, a wide grin breaking across his face. “I’ll have something special planned for you.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” you teased, leaning closer as you reached for the doorknob.

Idia’s expression turned serious again, and he stepped forward, grabbing your hand before you could open the door. “Y/N, I mean it. You make me want to be better. You inspire me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re already amazing, Idia. Just be yourself. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

With a final smile exchanged, you stepped out into the cool night air, the stars twinkling above you like a promise. As you walked away, the distant sounds of laughter and the crackling of bonfires filled the air, reminding you that the Halloween festivities were just beginning.

You glanced back at the Ignihyde dormitory, the warmth of Idia's confession lingering in your heart like the glow of the pumpkins outside. Halloween had become a night of magic for you, one filled with the spark of new beginnings and the promise of love growing amidst the flickering lights.

[fandomshipsandimagines]

a long and winding road (agathario + nicky)

ok guys, i admittedly didn't have as much time as i was expecting to write this. i also haven't written anything in lowkey a couple of years, so please bear with me here.... anyway an expansion of my prior post in somewhat fix-it-fic form

He was born from nothing but sheer willpower and a mother’s love-- virtually from scratch. A baby boy brought into a cruel and unfair world, but to two loving parents. Nicholas, they named him. It was a long and painful birth in the woods surrounding Salem. It was safe, though, in their little cottage nestled among the trees. Agatha pushed and pushed through sweat and tears, gripping Rio’s hand with iron strength. Rio didn’t mind; she was too wrapped up in her own excitement to really notice. Her pain was incomparable to Agatha’s anyway.

He was born healthy. In the first instant, they were overcome with joy. She looked at Agatha with tears in her eyes and kissed her forehead lovingly. Agatha smiled back, an exhausted but ecstatic smile. “He’s perfect, mi amor.” “He really is.” Rio watched Agatha beam at the sight of the baby--their baby-- and felt her heart swell. They cleaned him and swaddled him, feeding him before setting him in the crib Rio had conjured from neighboring tree branches. Sometimes, being The Green Witch had its perks. Agatha dozed off, no doubt wiped out from the grueling experience. Rio pulled the crib next to the bed she shared with Agatha, keeping watch over them both (otherworldly beings don’t need much sleep, anyway). The now two people she loved more than anything in the world were sleeping peacefully; she would never admit it, but Agatha made fun of how Rio snored, filling the space with her presence. Now, though, it was quiet.

That’s when it settled and hit her. The prophecy that his time would be limited. Nicky wouldn’t live long. Rio had never really concerned herself with mortals, never finding them compelling enough to care about their pre-established timelines. This one was different. This was her Nicky-- hers and Agatha’s. The panic came next, then sorrow. Grief prickled in the back of her mind, sending tears to her eyes that threatened to fall. She couldn’t take that risk in case Agatha woke up. Gently, she stroked Nicky’s head with the back of her hand and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Somewhere outside, in the garden Nicky would grow up playing in, flowers bloomed. Hyacinths, black roses, Lily of the valley, chrysanthemum sprouted, adding color to the dull forest. They slept soundly through the night.

In the morning, she tells Agatha. They’ve begun adjusting to this new life, the three of them finding a routine. In hushed tones, they bicker. Rio reminds Agatha that all living things must come to their natural end, some earlier than others. Agatha, disillusioned by the fact that her lover is Lady Death, refutes that. “No, Rio. He’s not like others. Stop this, please.” She gets up and walks away, claiming she needs to stretch the soreness away. She doesn’t go far, just crosses the bedroom to where Nicky sleeps soundly in his crib. Rio watches with sadness, deciding not to push further for now. Her black heart doesn’t have the strength to tell Agatha just how limited their time together will be, and maybe it’s selfish of her, but she doesn’t want to face it either. She decides to shift her focus towards building a home with her lover and their child, determined to make these the absolute best years of their lives for Nicky. She knows that, once it’s over, the damage will be irreversible. And, undoubtedly, Agatha will not forgive her for what’s to come. She doesn’t want to lose them, not yet.

It comes up again the first time Nicky gets sick. A year later, in the dead of winter, he catches his first cold. Agatha is home with him, worrying and fussing. She’s so distraught over her anxieties that she can’t seem to master the healing spell. Her mind doesn’t think clearly enough to make the potion, and Rio comes home from work to find Agatha’s exacerbated cries as a potion bubbles and burns in the cauldron. “What’s going on here? What are you trying to make?” “A potion, Rio. He’s sick! He’s sick and I can’t fix it.” Rio rushes to Nicky’s crip to feel his forehead. He’s burning up for sure; immediately, he starts crying at the sight of his mother. She lifts him and holds him to her chest. Maybe it’s how calm she looks that makes Agatha realize this is not his time. And maybe this is the first time she starts to panic a little less, watching Rio for any sign of the end; each time she doesn’t see it, she breathes a little easier. Agatha’s anxieties never quite quell over the years. They ebb and flow, but mostly she enjoys the time with her little family. They build their home together in comfort, ignoring reality almost into oblivion.

She heads to the village one day to run errands; Rio is home with Nicky, giving him magic lessons. She leaves them as they sit on a log by the river writing in his book of plant species. She thinks they are identifying the trees around them. At the edge of the wood, just beyond the village, she spots a group of women. A coven. She stalks by at a distance, reminded of her own coven. The thought of her mother’s cruelty sends a shiver down her spine. She recoils at the memory of being punished for her curiosity, for wanting to learn magic and improve her craft. Shaken from her deep memory at just the right moment, she hears whispers of powerful magic, unknown and unheard of to her. In her haze, she must have stepped on a twig that snapped, because they see her and beckon her over. Immediate recognition of kin, they bid her sit down and join them. “Just passing through,” they tell her. Refugees from neighboring towns, no doubt persecuted and chased away for their witchcraft. Rio will likely confirm it soon. She stays a while, relishing in the comfort her own coven had never provided her. It’s here that she hears whispers, tales of a book possessing great magic. She recalls reading it in a manuscript once before her mother reprimanded her in front of the whole coven.

She returns home some time later to find Rio cooking in the kitchen. It always warmed her heart when Rio would grow food and cook for Nicky, even though she didn’t need to eat.

“Mama, you’re home!” Nicky comes barreling towards her. The hug lasts all of two seconds before he grabs her hand and drags her to the fire.

“Hi, sweetheart! That smells good. What are you cooking?”

“We’re making stew, Mama. Mom grew the vegetables, but I helped.”

“He did! He collected them as soon as they sprouted, didn’t you mijo?”

“Well done, my love. I see your lessons are paying off.” Agatha puts down her own basket and places a kiss on Rio’s cheek.

They sit together around the fire and eat the stew. Nicky goes on and on describing the plants he learned about today. His parents watch him lovingly, glancing at one another every once in a while with a smile. It was a miracle that he’d grown so quickly. It was those moments that made Rio nearly forget herself, forget that Nicky had already turned 4. She is reminded after dinner, with Nicky put to bed and her and Agatha sitting together by the fire. Her lover is curled up in her arms, and Rio feels how immense her responsibility is to protect them. She squeezes Agatha just a little tighter, planting a gentle but firm kiss to her head. Agatha lazily plays with Rio’s fingers, toying with the idea of ruining this serene moment by bringing up what she heard earlier. Eventually, Rio breaks the silence. “You seem deep in thought, mi amor. What’s on your mind?” It’s unavoidable now, and the more Agatha had been thinking about it, the more eager she felt to find this fabled book.

“When I was in the forest earlier, I came across a coven at the edge of the village. They had traveled from Andover.”

“Refugees?” Agatha nodded. Rio, sure that it had upset Agatha to remember her own past” squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“I sat with them a bit. They caught me nearby,” she smiled sheepishly at Rio. “They told stories, old witches’ fables, about The Road and a magic spellbook.” Rio stiffened. Agatha felt muscles tensing behind her and took it as a sign of confirmation that maybe these weren’t just tales.

“You know it?”

“Agatha…”

“So it’s real isn’t it? Rio, this could be the key. We could save Nicky with this!”

“It doesn’t work like that.” The serene moment was long gone, reality crashing down on them. “The Dark Hold corrupts anyone who touches it. It’s dark magic, Agatha, it’s not safe. It’ll only make things worse.”

“So you’re admitting that the Dark Hold and The Road are real.”

They quarrel, Rio denying their existence and trying desperately to convince Agatha to let this go. It’s all in vain, because once Agatha’s curiosity is sparked, there’s no going back. The trait that Rio had once fallen in love with was doomed to become their downfall. Agatha’s obsessions grow over the next year. Their once peaceful home begins to strain under the stress; tension fills the air. Agatha ventures out more often, leaving Rio and Nicky home. Rio watches her inquisitively as she walks off in her hooded cloak, keeping their son entertained with spells and stories. Agatha’s obsession begins to take over, casting a darkness over their household. She holes herself up at home, obsessing over spell books, manuscripts, maps, and lore in hopes of any insight into where the Dark Hold is hidden. By this point, it’s become clear that Rio knows more than she lets on, but Agatha stops pushing her. They’re tired of bickering over this subject, and Rio won’t contribute any more to this downfall than she knows she will soon have to.

In the evenings, they dote on Nicky, determined to make sure his childhood is a happy one. He stays oblivious, knowing only the comfort and love of his mothers. It’s not until the coughing begins that things really start to go downhill. Agatha and Rio stand in the living room, arguing in hushed tones; this has become their nightly routine, it seems. From the other room, Nicky’s room, a cough. Then another. Then comes a coughing fit. They spring to action. Rio rushes to his side, waking him and holding her in his lap. She rubs comforting circles on his back, easing him back to a relaxed state. Gods, she thinks, his time is nearly upon us. She dispels the thought, focusing instead on the vial of warm liquid Agatha brings into the room. “Drink this, sweetie. It’ll help.” The coughing quiets and he dozes off back to a deep sleep. They transfer him to their bed so they can keep a watchful eye on him through the night.

“Rio, please tell me it’s not happening.”

“Not yet. Some time remains.”

“I have to find it, Rio. This might be our only chance. Please, my love. Don’t you care? Doesn’t this affect you?”

“Well, of course it does, Agatha! I love him and I want what’s best for him. But, I am telling you this is not the way!”

“Shhh you’ll wake him!”

Rio sighs. She doesn’t know how to keep having this conversation. She doesn’t know if she can tell Agatha that his time is near, that he will only live another year. She can’t face them, knowing what she has always known. That Nicky would only live to be six. She’s not sure how much longer she can go on bending the rules of nature and tipping the natural balance. Still, she urges Agatha not to waste her energy looking for a book that won’t give them what they need.

“Agatha, he needs to feel loved. This is not love.”

“What is it then? I seem to be doing more for him than you. I don’t see you trying any harder to keep him alive.”

“That’s not fair. You don’t know the sacrifice I made for him, for you, for US. I can’t change the course of anyone’s fate. In the end--”

“Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. We are witches. You are Death! Rio, we can’t just sit idly by and watch this happen. Not when we have magic and there is magic out there that can help!”

“That's just it! I’m trying to tell you that it won’t work, Agatha. Please, enough of this. Promise me that you will give up this obsession with the Dark Hold. Promise me that you will show him the love he deserves.”

It’s Agatha’s turn now to sigh. “I’ll be damned if this boy knows anything but love.” The conversation ends there.

Nicky’s health fluctuates over the next year, as does Rio’s schedule. The increase in witch trials begins to take its toll. Tensions continue to rise, Rio angry with innocent deaths, Agatha angry that Rio is always gone. In the time she has alone with Nicky, she devotes more time to her magic; Nicky finds it entertaining to watch his Mama. They walk the forests, Agatha singing the Ballad softly while he listens. At times, he points out different species; Agatha smiles as she listens to him. He looks so alive when babbling about his lessons. It tugs at her heart strings. They turn back when she hears the first cough. He grows tired, his factual interjections decreasing. They arrive home as the fits get more intense. Agatha fixes him the same potion, practically shoving it down his throat in fear. Rio arrives soon after, exhausted and drained; the sound she hears shakes her. “When did it start?” “Earlier in the forest, but it only just got bad again.”

They climb into bed on either side of their son, grateful that the potion worked. He sleeps quietly and calmly in between his mothers. Laying on her bent arm, Agatha places her free hand on his chest, feeling Nicky breathe steadily; Rio, perched on her elbow, places a free hand over Agatha’s. Rio falls asleep first, snoring softly beside Nicky. It’s not often that Rio falls asleep, so she takes this rare opportunity. Agatha carefully gets up, grabbing the bag she had stashed under their bed long ago. She stands over her lover and son, smiling with determination to make things right, and places a feather light kiss on both of their heads before slipping away into the darkness.

Rio doesn’t even have to open her eyes in the morning to know Agatha’s gone. And she knows exactly where she is. Her eyes flutter open and lay on Nicky, his breather slower and shallower than it was in the nighttime. Just as she’s about to wake him and check how he’s doing, he wakes himself with another coughing fit. She can hear it before she feels it, the difference in his health. It’s almost drastic, a dramatic change in typical Harness-Vidal fashion. Her own breathing picks up as she eyes her son, for the first time wanting to run away from her job. She knows it won’t be long now. She sits Nicky up and rubs his back as he coughs. When it starts to slow, she picks him up and moves them to the kitchen. He sits on the table wrapped warmly as she fetches him some water. She recreates the potion Agatha had given him last night, hoping to prolong any changes for as long as she can. She hands him the water and vial; he drinks and instantly calms down.

“Mom, where’s Mama?” The crushing weight of reality returns.

“She had to go on a work trip, sweetheart. She’ll be back soon.”

“Will she be back in time for my birthday?” Rio freezes yet again. No, she thinks. It can’t be. But it must.

“But of course! She’s gonna bring you back a birthday present too because you’ve been such a good boy! We’re so proud of how well you’re advancing in your lessons. You’re our little miracle, Nicky.” He beams at this, launching into a guessing game of what his present might be. Rio smiles, trying to hide her grief. Two days later, he turns 6.

They pass the time together, Rio desperately trying to distract Nicky from the fact that Agatha was missing. She fills his days with fun and excitement, spoiling him with anything his heart desires. She blooms one of every flower he can think of, creating a meadow from empty land. They run and chase one another through the field, filling the air with laughter and screams. The running slows and they lay side by side, watching the clouds. Rio shapes them into bunnies for Nicky, who giggles and names every single one. She gets the idea for his birthday present from there. She summons a bunny on their way home and it sits on their front porch. Nicky screams with excitement. “I shall name him Senior Scratchy!” They curl up by the fire that evening, and the coughing commences again. Rio, panicking and dreading the inevitable, tries in vain to feed him potions and medicine, bending over backwards to reshape his fate. With each cough, she can feel her powers waning. While Nicky sleeps in her arms, she cries and begs silently. She holds Nicky closer and cries, kissing his head over and over again. He stirs a little, looking at her with tired eyes.

It’s then that Rio sees just how exhausted he is; she cannot keep doing this. She curses Agatha for being gone, curses the Dark Hold for not having a cure. “Is Mama back?” “Not yet, baby. Close your eyes and sleep. When you wake up, she’ll be back.” His eyes shut and he nods, almost immediately falling asleep again. She continues to cry. When his body stills in relaxation, she knows it’s time. She appears in his dream, careful not to expose her Death face so as not to scare him. In his dream, he is awake in the same meadow they played in earlier. He runs through the field with his arms out, hands brushing the grass around him. A flower in hand, he rushes to his mother. He grabs her hand and jumps up and down, handing her the flower. She holds his hand and points in the direction of the forest.

“It’s time to go mijo. It’s time for that big adventure I promised you.”

“Am I finally old enough?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” They walk off together towards the forest. He grips her hand just a little tighter, suddenly aware that the forest gets darker and denser the deeper they travel.

“You’re being such a brave boy cariño.” He smiles up at her, pleased with the approval.

Early in the morning, Agatha returns to their cottage in the woods. The air is still just as it is every morning, but it’s heavy in a way it has never been. She opens the door and steps inside. Before she sees Rio and Nicky, she knows what’s happened. Rio’s soft cries break through the air, reaching Agatha’s ears and causing tears to form in her eyes. She drops the book with a thud, her already blackening fingers trembling.

“No. Tell me it’s not true. Tell me you didn’t.” Rio cries harder. “Rio, what did you do?” Now she’s yelling.

“I couldn’t hold it any longer. I couldn’t give us any more time.”

‘What do you mean you couldn't hold on? How is that possible? You’re Death! Rio, how could you?”

“How could I? HOW COULD YOU? You missed his birthday, Agatha. You missed the past two years! You obsessed over that goddamn book instead of being here for him.”

“I WAS TRYING TO SAVE HIM!”

“SO WAS I.”

The silence is deafening. Both witches feel the blood rushing to their ears. Agatha grabs Nicky’s limp body from Rio, clutching him tightly and crying. She sits there with him for the better part of three hours, shaking and crying with rage. She mourns her loss loudly, barely registering Rio’s presence but making sure she can hear her grief. By the door, Rio grabs the Dark Hold and places it on the table. It burns the moment it touches her fingertips.

They take Nicky’s body outside, Rio’s power opening a grave and floating him gently into it. She covers him with dirt, sprouting the very same flowers that sprung at his birth. Sorrow, loss, regret, guilt, heartbreak. She’s never hated being a green witch, The Green Witch, so badly. Agatha turns on her heels and rushes off into the house the moment he’s laid to rest, tears streaming down her face. Rio stays an extra moment before returning to their home.

She hears footsteps, but she doesn’t turn around. “You took him without letting me say goodbye.”

“I gave you every chance to be with him, Agatha. I told you not to leave.”

“I left to help him, which is more than you did.”

“At least I stayed here. I disrupted the balance of nature and gave us time with him. He was never supposed to live this long, but he did, no thanks to you. I had a job to do; I didn’t want to do it, but I did it.”

“Know that I hate you. I hate you with everything that I am. I will never, ever, forgive you for this. You destroyed everything. You took everything. Fuck you, Rio.”

“Hate me all you want. But don’t think you’re off the hook either. You left him alone for days, days, Agatha. For a stupid book. For magic that wouldn’t heal. You know, he asked for you TWICE. Where were you then?”

“I don’t ever want to see you again. Leave me alone.”

“Gladly.”

With that last word, they parted ways. Rio returned to the world from whence she came, far away from mortals and Agatha. Far away from her life, her family, her son. Back to the responsibility she wished she could have left behind forever. No more playing house. She went back to being Lady Death. Agatha stays inside, studying the Dark Hold and perfecting her craft. Over the centuries, the Dark Hold corrupts her; black-tipped fingers hold the hands of coven members decade after decade, century after century, siphoning their powers and leaving a trail of bodies behind. Rio keeps her distance, not exactly eager to face what she feels she’s created. If she’d pushed Agatha harder, if she’d stopped her from leaving that night, if she just could’ve held onto Nicky a little harder, maybe none of it would’ve happened. Death herself collected the bodies that Agatha left behind; only this time, it’s not love that fills her heart at the thought, it’s sorrow.

With centuries of time at her disposal, Agatha allows herself to get immersed in her studies; the Dark Hold becomes everything to her, and the powers that grow with each kill makes her feel invincible. As her power grows, so does the veil surrounding her. At first, Rio doesn’t even bother looking for her, too heartbroken and angry to care about her former lover. Two centuries later, she feels a shift--the Dark Hold is in someone else’s possession. She decides to take a risk and search for Agatha, having allowed herself to heal from Nicky’s passing over the centuries, and that’s how Rio ends up in a little town called Westview. It’s quaint and normal, the opposite of the Agatha she remembers; the Agatha she finds is also not the woman she fell in love with. It breaks Rio’s heart even more to see the once powerful Agatha Harkness reduced to a life of delusions under the Scarlet Witch’s spell. It nearly kills her that they lost everything for nothing; no amount of killing gave her enough power, no amount of begging saved Nicky, and no amount of fighting saved their family.

“Do you remember why you hate me?”

A pause “No.”

She can almost see the gears turning in her mind. By now, Rio has learned that she lives on teetering edges. A flicker of hope replaced quickly by guilt. After all this time, she still loves Agatha, and she won’t take advantage of a weakness no matter how desperately she wishes to go back to happier times.

She loses Agatha a second time, but this time it’s on Rio’s terrain. Underground, on a fake road, Rio is summoned to a road. She emerges from the grave of a woman whose soul she just escorted--Sharon Davis she thinks, but she doesn’t really care. This magic, this Hex, forces them along the path, pushing their limits trial after trial. Deep in the dark woods, Rio takes the opportunity to express her feelings and give the closest thing she can to an apology. The boy, Teen they’ve been calling him, almost dies; emotions are waxing and waning. There’s no better time to try. Agatha storms off and Rio smiles, remembering all the times her lover would stubbornly exit the conversation.

“Agatha?”

“Hm.”

“That boy isn’t yours.” Rio is sure it hurts her to say it just as much to say it as it hurts Agatha to hear it. She doesn’t dare reveal that Teen is Billy and Billy cheated Death. She doesn’t mention that she’s going to have to take another boy from Agatha.

One by one, this new coven falls. Rio’s begun to find this chore boring, following Agatha and cleaning up after her. First Sharon (Rio really starts counting with Alice), then Alice, and now Lilia. The pieces of the puzzle are finally starting to connect. They leave Billy and Jen behind to process their losses; she takes her chances with Agatha in the empty clearing amongst the trees.They face each other in the clearing. Agatha jabs at her first.

“You took my son.”

“He was OUR son.” Rio is angry now, angrier than she’s ever been. “I lost him, too, Agatha. It wasn’t just you.” She’s crying; it’s only the second time it’s ever happened. The hot tears burn her cheeks; she feels more human than she thought was possible.

Opposite her, Agatha’s own eyes well up with tears. She didn’t want to talk about this again, not with Rio. Her vision is clouded; she sees nothing in front of her, not even Rio’s tears. Also for the second time, she tells Rio that she doesn’t want to see her face ever again. Rio leaves, agreeing to respect Agatha’s wishes. When death comes for her, it won’t be her lover’s hand she holds to cross.

The now three witches move forward to the next trial. Agatha is angry, eager to get off of this fake road. She has no interest in being around these people anymore. The next trial stops them in their tracks. It’s Jen’s turn, she thinks, it must be. She scowls at the thought; yet another obstacle in the way of getting out of here. They unbind Jen, and she helps Billy look for his brother, but the trial goes on. It’s Agatha’s turn to escape. It’s not magic she’s looking for; that won’t help her here. She is bound to this trial, to this Hex, by her grief. With no tears to cloud her vision, she sees clearly for the first time ever.

“Sometimes, boys die.”

The room goes dark, but her soul feels lighter. Just like that, the weight of a thousand lifetimes comes crashing down. Memories dance across her eyes as they adjust to the dark atmosphere. She sees Nicky running in the meadow, sees Rio holding their baby, and sees his peacefully sleeping form as they go to sleep under the stars. The lights flicker on and Agatha realizes she’s been crying. She cries for herself and for Nicky and for Rio. She mourns the loss of her family, of her happiness. She looks to the lamps above her, illuminating the exit. She turns to the room where she will leave her grief and anger.

A million realizations seem to take form as she’s exiting The Road. A child born of death was never destined to live; it was Rio’s mercy, love, and sacrifice that gave them a miracle. Wasting precious time with her boy going after dark magic was always going to be futile; and by the end, she’d become addicted to the power more than she wanted to admit. It was never going to save Nicky, but it drove her desire to move forward. Rio did her best--no, better than her best. Agatha was just as much to blame as she was. Out there in the open, she knows Billy won’t be safe for long. She emerges to find Rio back with a vengeance, ready to reap the soul of the Boy Who Cheated Death. She knows this is her moment.

Sending Billy to the greenhouse, she approaches Rio who reaches for her knife in confusion. Instead of the fight she is expecting, Agatha gently grabs her face and kisses her. Rio is almost too shocked to react, but soon melts into the kiss. Agatha does her best to convey what she lacks the words to express: that she’s sorry, that it was never just Rio’s fault, that she misses their family, and maybe there’s some hope after all. They finally pull apart, gasping for air like they've been drowning forever.

“You broke the rules.”

“For you, my love, there is no rule I wouldn’t break.” They smile at each other, basking in the comfort of the moment.

Billy emerges soon after, slow and careful to avoid ruining the tender moment. Rio looks back and forth between him and Agatha; out of the corner of her eye, she can see her lover pleading. She chooses not to take the boy this time. Agatha places a hand on his cheek.

“If you’re going to learn magic, Billy, you’re going to learn it the right way. You’re too powerful to waste it on darkness and destruction.”

“Careful, Agatha. I tend to kill my coven.”

“So do I.”

@takjdidoprdele @yakly @gracklesascendant @kamala-msmarvel-khan @ddagent @fridafolkestone @lord-luminous @cm572 @botineh @jxsmindoodles @ouroborosdisorder @ginnyssprace @autbot @sunflowerscottie @crazyballoongentleman @oldbutterfly @rhaenyratargaryendefender

[primehusk]

experimented on the last piece. like, a lot.

in fact, it's in motion now! and it has my new favorite effect: realistic bloom~

[furaneesu]

Apple Bloom with her mom's (Pear Butter) hair.

I always thoug4ht that Apple Bloom having more of a curvy outline for her hair rather than a sharp one like Applejack or Big Mac's is a reminiscent of her mom's curly hair, but I just wanted to see how she'd look like if she fully got her mom's hair.

[killjoy-prince]

Top 5 Rui cards in prsk?

Hehehehe Thanks for the ask, Fen!! Aaaaaa this is hard bc i love most of them!! But I'll try lolol

5)

4)

3)

2)

1)

[cochineal-leviat]

Red passion, shy Camelia and confident Tulips.

Red Flowers are typically associated with love, which makes sense as they symbolise fiery passion and determination.

"The red camellia, often mistaken for a rose, is known for love, passion, and deep desire. But as a wintery bloom, it can also symbolise thoughtfulness, tenderness, and adversity. Combining red camellias with pink ones transforms their original meaning into romantic love." Personally, I adore camellias. They are among my favourite flowers.

"Red Tulips share the same meanings as red roses and red camellias: love and passion. But they also symbolise lust and undying love. They are a declaration of love and carry the message 'believe me'. Because of this, they are the perfect flower for young couples."

(the second and last picture are both tulips; the last one, however, is in full bloom before the dying stage)

There are many other meanings to tulips, the general being: "declaration of love (again), and perfection."

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Burgeon

Logan Howlett x Reader Sex Pollen

Summary: Reader works in the science lab at the mutant academy. Trying to grow a new plant from a mutated seed they had found. When the bloom puffs a cloud into her and Logan’s face they both begin feeling strange.

CW: oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, biting, p in v, creampie

a/n: sorry this took so long to write I was depressed :D also surprise its today

~~~

You rested your head on your hands as you watched the plant in front of you slowly yet rapidly bloom a gorgeous, wine red bud. The way the flower held itself closed mesmerized you. How small bumps decorated the stem and the leaves along it were a dark purple color.

Logan, a.k.a. The Wolverine stood next to you. Piddling with one of the enclosed flora that was under surveillance. Not all that interested in the details of your work, but enjoying spending time with you. Especially when the big blue fur ball was not around to distract you. Dusk was approaching as it shined through the greenhouse windows. A beautiful color painted the sky as the darkness of the night approached.

“Oh, Logan! Look the bud is about to bloom!” You wrapped your arm around his pulling him over to you. He groaned as you pulled him over to you. You watched closely as the petals fought each other to release. Taking their sweet time to reveal the beauty within.

“Sure is taking its time,” Logan huffed, eyes fixated on you now. Loving how happy you looked awaiting the new flowers arrival.

The petals dispersed. Revealing the most beautiful black center of the flower. A large cloud of purple dust coming out with it. Before you could say anything, you and Logan both inhaled the fumes. Covering your mouth and coughing aggressively as the pollen stuck to the inside of your mouth. You wide eyed the plant, shocked at what came out of it.

“What the hell— that thing isn’t poisonous is it?!”

“I… I don’t really know,” you meekly whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean we found this thing, noticed it was displaying some irregular behavior for a seedling of its type. And we decided to monitor it. I didn’t know it was going to cough up smoke at us!”

Logan stamped his foot. Frustrated by the lack of caring on your part. Pacing in a small circle next to you with the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Okay! We just have to stay here for the next 48 hours. Keep us under supervision just in case we feel any side effects. We go about our days like normal, just can’t leave the Academy,” you rubbed your hand up and down your arm. Logan irritably took a seat, head down with his hands folded over his lap. You grabbed the pod and placed it in a holding chamber all of its own. Walking over and kneeling down in front of Logan.

“I’m sorry. If I had known—“ you reached your hand out to rest it on Logan’s leg.

“You don’t have to be sorry. We can forget all about it at the party tonight. Celebrating whatever the hell Charles was on about,” Logan grinned at you.

You smiled, “I’ll celebrate anything if it means free drinks.”

Logan left the greenhouse while you finished up cleaning and double checking everything. A sudden hot flash washed over your body. Pulling a sweat from every inch of you. You fanned your hand in front of your face, your clothes feeling oddly tight suddenly. Maybe someone turned the heat up in the greenhouse. You walked over to check the thermostat. Nothing about the number had changed. As long as it was reading right you were comfortable leaving it be.

Walking up to your room. Heat engulfed you, a minor ache on your body now approaching. Choosing to ignore the problem entirely. Changing into something more comfortable for the evening ahead. Looking at yourself in the mirror when a sudden, promiscuous image flashed in your mind.

Logan.

Behind you. Both of you completely nude as he pounded into you. Watching yourself take him in the mirror. His hands splayed out on your chest, lips on your neck.

Your face flushed with your arousal. Unable to fight the feeling forming deep down inside you. Aching at your core. Leaning over your bed as you writhed.

The feeling of his hands grabbing your hips. Buried completely inside you. Your back arching to meet his thrusts. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

You gasped at the thought. Unsure of what was happening to you. Uncontrollably desire was taking over your body. Your hand found your aching core in an attempt to cool yourself down. Scrunching up your face at the feeling. It felt good, but not right. It was not what you needed. You needed him.

Your face was completely flushed with thoughts of Logan. Trying your hardest to make it less noticeable before going downstairs.

“Just stop,” you told yourself.

Heading down to the common area where all your fellow teachers had gathered. An adults only party, all the students were off away. You smiled as you greeted your fellow mutants. Getting stopped by Hank. His warm smile and soft eyes pulling your attention to him.

“Hi, Hank,” you smiled as you walked over to him.

“Hello, beautiful,” Hank grinned, fangs decorating his bright white smile. You thought about how his teeth would feel against your neck. Blushing at the idea of the large monster on top of you. Your thoughts suddenly morphing to fit Logan into your fantasy. Fangs nipping at your skin as strong hands held yours above your head. Panting as he thrusted into you. Sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Everything going good with that mysterious plant of yours?” Hank questioned, breaking your fantasy.

“Uh— Yeah, kinda. It bloomed today but some purple pollen came out it. Not sure if that’ll have any effect on me,” you droned off as you saw Logan enter the room. Completely fixated on him now. Seeing his bulging muscles revealed by his tank top. His broad shoulders and strong brow bone indicating he was some form of frustrated. His eyes finally caught yours. Awkwardly you turned back to focus on Hank as you continued on about the beauty of the mysterious flower. Unable to keep Logan in your peripheral. Excusing yourself from the conversation. Walking into a corner so you could scan the entire room. Unable to spot Logan anywhere.

Muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Almost calming the burn trickling down your nervous system. Nose finding its place in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Your hands meeting those around you, feeling the veins popping out. Smell of musk and cologne overwhelming your senses.

A silent feeling that he understood exactly what you were going through.

“Smells so good,” his gruff, low voice rang in your ear. Your head leaning back against his shoulder, eyes straining to look at him. Black eyes stared at you. Pulling you flush against him, his semi-hard cock pressed into you. Chills ran up you. Rolling your hips to grind against him. A low groan, almost a growl, vibrated against your ear.

Hands inched down closer to the place you ached most. Fingers grazing the sweet spot causing you to arch backwards slightly. Circling your mound as his eyes scanned the room.

“Everyone is in here,” you whispered, a soft moan on your tone.

“I know,” he grumbled, kissing below your ear.

Both of you silently enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together for a moment. How perfectly your body melted to his front. How the smell of him sent goosebumps down your body. The sound of his breathing in your ear pooling inside you.

“Saw you over there with furrball. He not tickling your fancy tonight?” Logan’s fingers dug into your skin, a hint of jealousy on his tone.

“No,” you simply said.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Logan groaned into your ear, “I could smell you from my fucking room. Need to rip these clothes off and get inside you right now.”

You choked on air. Realizing Logan was having the same feelings you were. Unsatisfiable desire.

“Didn’t matter how fucking good my hand felt, wasn’t right. It wasn’t you,” he purred. His fingers danced along the line of your pants, daring to dip under your clothes. Feeling your pantyline against his fingers, the softness of the lace continuing his desire. Your hand met his, intertwining fingers with him. Looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Lust blown eyes stared into yours. He plotted an escape route to make sure none of your coworkers watched you slip away together. Grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him.

His touch tingled against your skin. Your sensitive body being thrown into overdrive as you headed down the hallway together. Pulling you into a stairwell and turning to face you. His entire face was red, sweat beaming down his brow. You blushed. Eyes locked together, blown pupils matching each other.

“Dunno if I can wait much longer,” Logan growled as he palmed at himself through his jeans. You fell to your knees instinctively. Tugging at his belt, pulling a deep sigh from him. Releasing his fully erect cock from its confides. It sprung up, tip swollen and leaking. A thick vein wrapped around the underside. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, your mouth salivating at the sight of him. Doed eyes stared up at him, your hand grasping around his member. Lips pressing against the tip in a kiss. Logan moaned at your touch. His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided you down on him. Choking around his girth.

“That’s it,” Logan praised as he lead you up and down on his cock. Hollowing out your cheeks to take him all the way. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, fighting off your urge to gag. Feeling him twitch in your mouth, knowing it would not take long for you to get him there.

Logan’s eyes squinted shut as he finished in your mouth. A grunt as he held you in place. “It’s not enough,” he moaned. Eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at you. Reaching a hand down to help you up, “I need to be inside you.”

His words melted into your core. Igniting a primal feeling in you. You wrapped your hand around Logan’s leading him up the stairs.

“My room’s closer,” you answered the question you knew he was silently asking himself. A grin painted his face as he watched your ass bounce going up the stairs.

Hurriedly typing your code to access your room. Logan’s fingers rubbed circles on your core through your clothes. You arched your back into him, feeling his still completely erect dick. “‘M gonna fuck you so good, doll,” Logan purred in your ear pulling at the button on your pants. You bit your lip finally getting the door open. Logan practically shoved you inside.

Attaching his lips to yours immediately, hands cupping both sides of your face. His tongue penetrating your mouth as your teeth clinked together. You hooked your fingers under his tank top, pulling it over his head. His hairy, muscular chest was completely drenched in sweat. His lips attached onto your neck, tongue coming out to lick a stripe up your sensitive skin. “What’s going on with us?” Logan asked against your skin.

“I’dunno,” you moaned when his teeth grazed a spot you liked, “I just want you.” He smiled at your response.

Logan pushed you onto your back on the bed. Ripping your pants and panties off you. A gasp fell from you. “You’ve got plenty more,” he growled as he kneeled at the side of your bed. Pulling you so that he was directly in front of your core. Soaking the blanket underneath you as arousal took over every sense you had. Logan chuckled as he lapped at your core, “Tastes so good.” You arched your back off the bed at the sudden contact. Pushing yourself closer into his mouth. Furrowing your brows because — GOD — he felt good, but it just was not enough to cool the fire inside you. Grinding yourself against his face trying your damndest to reach your high. Logan latched onto you like an animal devouring his last meal. Fingers digging into your thighs, bruising the soft skin there. Hooded eyes stared up at your face admiring how you scrunched up your nose and hung your mouth open. The soft moans and squeaks pouring from your mouth like music to his ears. He rolled his hips into the side of the mattress, desperate to fuck you. But more desperate to get you off first.

Your nails dug into the soft blanket below you. Riding his tongue through your orgasm. Body jolting and legs shaking. His name a scream on your lips. Logan pulled away, his face soaked in your juices. Dropping his pants to the floor. He stroked himself as he stared at your entrance. Your body still basking in the afterglow of orgasm. Logan pounced on top of you. Gently removing your top, lips finding their place on your exposed breasts. Biting through the fabric of your bra to play with your nipples. Licking and sucking the thin material. His hand pinched at the opposite one. Lips dancing up your neck, biting at your jaw.

Rolling his exposed cock into your soaked entrance. The first bit of relief you had felt all day. A shaky moan escaping you. Logan smirked above you, leaning his head back feeling how your body begged for him. Sliding his member through your slit, collecting all your wetness on him. “My pretty girl,” he praised, “I’m gonna fill you up to the goddamn hilt.”

Easing his way into you. Your walls practically pulling him in. Both of you moaned in harmony, throwing your heads back. “That’s more like it,” he cooed. Easy himself back before slamming back in. Setting himself at a brutal pace. The sound of skin smacking together filled the room. He panted above you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You leaned forward to catch him in a kiss, Logan’s body slouching so that your front were pressed firmly together. Curving his arms under you, holding you tight as he fucked into you. A huff of breath falling from him with each snap of hips. He held you close, lips pressed against your neck. An occasional kiss being planted there. “You take cock so well. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” he growled against your skin.

You clawed at his back. Desperate to hold him closer. Scratching down his body, pulling a moan from him. His pace was growing sloppy as he approached his own high. Your pussy still sensitive from your own. Walls clenching when he’d hit deep inside you. “Gonna be so full of me aren’t you? Little cum slut,” Logan grunted with each of his thrusts.

Logan attached his lips back to yours desperately panting and moaning as he felt himself about to finish. Sheathing himself fully inside you as he shot his seed. The feeling of him soothed the burn you had been feeling. Relieved by how perfectly he filled you up. You felt him grin against your skin, slumping all his body weight into you momentarily.

“Could stay like this all night,” he whispered in your ear. You petted his back, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah?”

“That way I can already be inside you when I feel like I gotta soothe the feeling again,” Logan playfully bit at your cheek.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know this fic has been a long time coming so I hope it was a great read! I plan on writing quite a lot for the month of October, so if you have any requests send them my way! My next Logan fic is gonna be a Werewolf!AU //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @goodness-gracious13 ~ @figsnpassionfruits ~ @gretavankleep37 ~ @shinysam29 ~ @sunnyfranc ~ @savy-luvs-dilfs ~ @ayamenimthiriel ~ @megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @father-of-2cats ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

every once in a while, suguru lets you have all the power.

down on his knees, he stares up at you with dark eyes; there's a grin plastered onto his face, the very same one that got him into this situation in the first place, and nothing that you're doing is making it go away.

(every once in a while, he lets you think you have all the power.)

his hands are behind his back with the material of his own tie digging into the sensitive skin of his wrists but he doesn't mind the pain. he loves it. the first few buttons of his dress shirt are undone and a few blooming bruises peek from under the garment. the contrast between his skin and the splotches of color are tantalizing, it's making your mouth water and your teeth itch – the need to add more to the canvas that sits before you is clouding your mind and he knows it.

despite being the one that's tied up, suguru continues to push your buttons.

he's insufferable. he's rude. he's fucking annoying.

he's gorgeous. he's beautfiul. he's fucking exceptional.

you want to hurt him. you want to kiss him.

and he knows.

his cheek burns a bright pink shade while the inside of your hand prickles with the most delicious kind of pain. strands of hair have fallen from behind his ears and are now keeping you from having his eyes on you and that won't do. slowly reaching out, you tuck it back where it came from, your fingers brush against his skin and you feel the warmth exuding from him. you press your tingling palm against his cheek and watch how he leans into your touch; the corners of his lips tug even further and he morphs into the wolf that he really is – his sharp teeth glint from behind the grin as his eyes narrow in on you. there's a comment, a sly tease, ready to fall from his tongue, you can see it so clearly—

a second slap echoes through your shared home.

the words dissolve in his mouth as he hums at you instead. his head is now turned away from you by an inch, the impact of your hand strong enough to actually do some damage. suguru bites down onto his lip while slowly cracking open his eyes, his gaze even darker now. he licks his lips and you catch sight of the little steel piercing that hides in mouth.

trying to win the silent battle of dominance, you tilt your chin up high but when you see suguru pressing his thighs together, you almost crumble entirely. he's so hard that even just the mere thought of his cock makes your mouth salivate.

you think about big of a mess he must be making under all the layers, you think about how full his balls are. you think about all the things he might do to you the second you untie him.

"don't tell me that was your worst, sweetheart... "

his voice is like something crafted perfectly just to make you weak in the knees, there's no resisting it. it's like honey, sweet and sticky, and—

a third slap.

you can't let him do this to you. this is your fucking moment.

his cheek burns brighter than ever, the ache under his skin shooting waves of pleasure all over his body and all he's willing to give you is another hum. it comes from somewhere deep within, desperately crawling out from inside him as if he couldn't contain it anymore. but it feels so good. it's so fucking good and he hates to admit it; he hates how he has no control over his body – his thighs press together all on their own, his brain focused on relieving the pain between his legs at any cost.

when suguru's head falls forward and he lets out a raspy laugh, you freeze. you can hear your own heart beat in your ears and you can feel the blood pumping in your veins.

and when he cranes his neck to peer at you from under his brow, you feel like you're going to faint. he's going to eat you, he's going to devour you. he's going to ruin you.

[borrovved]

10 minutes | p.sh

mdni | tutor!sunghoon x brat!reader

wc: 1237

smut: uhhh public sex? it's in a storage closet lol. choking. creampie. unprotected sex (wrap it up plz), oral male receiving, cum eating, spitting, hoon is a dom and the reader is a brat. brat summer anyone?

Sunghoon has no idea what came over him. Seeing you with Jake set off alarms in his head and suddenly he’s grabbing your hand and wanting to fuck you in the janitor’s closet at school. He’s not sure what it is, but the idea of you being fucked by Jake Sim isn’t sitting well with him, so he himself has to be the one that does it.

It’s supposed to be a no strings attached thing where you teach Sunghoon how to pleasure a girl and he teaches you about derivatives. Nothing more. Alas, he’s a hormonal boy that likes marking you as his- he’s going to be a little possessive. He usually marks you smack dab in the middle of your neck and you do the same to him. No one bats an eye because no one fathoms that Park Sunghoon would be with the likes of you. That should be enough. But no, he wants you all to himself right here, right now.

He pushes you against the stone cold wall of the small stuffy room with his hand having a firm grip around your neck.

“What the hell was that? Being a bit brave today? Being a bigger impetuous slut than usual?” He seethes.

You chuckle a bit. You are in fact feeling a bit brave today. Usually you’re not that secretive with who you’re sleeping with, but the idea of being the one that took sweet Sunghoon’s virginity is something you really do have to keep to yourself. Now he’s a little devil in the sheets, the shy timid boy long gone.

“Hmm, you could say that-“

“Shut up and get on your knees.” He says as he quickly undoes his belt on his slacks. They pool along his ankles and you drop down, no questions asked. Seeing his pale thighs makes you want to rake your fingernails along the skin. Perhaps leave a hickey on his inner thigh?

“Don’t waste my time. We have 10 minutes before lunch ends.” He says breathily.

“Aw, no foreplay baby? No kiss for me to get me warmed up?” You say as you bat your lashes with a lilt to your voice.

He bends slightly to your level and grips your jaw hard enough for you to stand up. He spits in your mouth and nips at your ear, saying very lowly, “You’ll get your turn. Behave.”

You drop down once again, wetness now pooling between your legs, not having a care in the world that the dull pain in your knees is blooming. You pull out his cock and lick along his shaft, hearing a slight hiss pass his lips. You finally take him fully into your mouth, and he releases a guttural moan. You bob your head against him at a steady pace while he grips your head to take him in deeper. He loves the way your eyes water and the tears roll down your cheeks as you gag on him.

“God you look gorgeous just like this, all for me.” Sunghoon says.

You take him in as far as you can, digging your fingernails deep into the back of his thighs as a signal that you can’t take any more.

“Get up.” He orders. You happily oblige. He finally kisses you, cupping your face gently, almost sweetly. The kiss is deep and full of so much fervor. He pulls apart and looks into your eyes for a moment, and in that moment, time slowed and it felt like it was just him in your little universe.

He breathily says against your lips with his left hand gripping your breast, “Six minutes.”

Right. It’s a quickie. Not lovemaking or anything frivolous like that.

Before he pulls down your underwear underneath your skirt he feels the damp spot between your legs that he created. He slides his fingers along your clothed folds and hums. He fiddles with the little bow on your panties.

“Cute.” He rasps.

“Sunghoon for the love of god I can’t take it anymore, just fuck-“ before you even finish he has a firm hold on your neck again.

“Nuh uh. You’re not calling the shots right now. I am.”

He pulls aside your pantries and inserts two fingers. You have to bite your lip to hold in the moan you want to let out so badly. He kisses you and he has the reins- he’s the one in control and you’re loving every moment of it. He pumps his fingers languidly while his left hand holds the back of your head to deepen the kiss. You pull away briefly.

“Please fuck me Sunghoon.” You say softly and sincerely.

He reattaches his lips to yours once again and he gives his dick a few pumps and runs it along your slit, pulling down your underwear fully. You wrap your leg around his waist as he enters you, leaving you both moaning.

“So- fuck, tight.” He says in your ear in a low mumble, but you hear it clearly. He did a few slow thrusts but the bell for the five minutes left of the lunch period rang. He doesn’t have time to appreciate your slick walls. He lifts your leg up even higher and starts railing you like his life depends on it.

The soft pants he lets out juxtapose the loud smacking sound of skin against skin. He loves it. He lives for it.

“Mine. All of you, mine.” He enunciates every word with each thrust and you swear you’re seeing stars.

“Please cum in me. Mark me. Make me yours.”

He listens obediently. He’s at his limit and rubs your clit with his thumb as he rides out his high. Ropes of his cum shoot into you, some dripping down your thigh as he pulls away slowly.

Before he does though, Sunghoon says, “Wait. Hang on.” He attempts to gather as much of his cum with his two fingers and pushes it into your mouth to suck on, fucking the rest of it into you so you don’t waste a single drop.

He pulls out and you two start to freshen up as best as you can by using each other as your mirrors.

“Do I have sex hair?” You ask.

“Erm, yeah, let me fix it.” Sunghoon says. He tries his best to fix what has been done. Moments pass and he’s still really close to you with his hands running through your hair and patting it down.

“I just wanted a kiss.” You say quietly.

“What?” He questions, still adjusting your hair.

“I was all over Jake so you would notice. Just wanted you to kiss me.” You pout while giving him those puppy dog eyes. He chuckles. He bestows the most gentle kiss you’ve ever felt from any boy ever.

“You could’ve just asked, silly.” He says affectionately.

“That’s so lame though.” You say while looking down. Hookups don’t ask for sweet kisses. That’s not normal, you think.

He kisses your forehead and says softly, “but who cares?” You can’t even enjoy the tender moment when you notice how the final bell rings.

“Shit, we’re gonna be late!” You say wide eyed. All of your things are still in the cafeteria and your next class is not around the corner, in fact, it takes the full passing period to get there. You scurry out, leaving a disgruntled Sunghoon behind.

He wanted a kiss too.

[punkshort]

Home

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You finally move in with Joel and Sarah.

Warnings: language, fluff (the cheesy hallmark kind), established relationship, reader has a previously explained nickname, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex

WC: 4.8K

Series Masterlist

Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

Joel was nervous. He never really got nervous, but that particular day, he was nervous.

Sure, it was a big step in your relationship. Or maybe it was because months ago when he asked your father's permission to marry you, he promised he would wait until you moved in together.

And now, that day had arrived.

Where did the time go? He swore it just flew right on by, time that was filled with memories of dinners, parties, dates and holidays together. He hadn't planned what he would say and he felt woefully unprepared. He hadn't even talked to Sarah about it yet.

Just because today is the day you're moving in doesn't mean today is the day I need to ask, he thought to himself. Still, it was a big step. A big, symbolic gesture on both your ends. One that screamed, I'm in this for the long haul.

"Mornin', babygirl," Joel said sleepily as he entered the kitchen, Sarah already sitting at the table in front of an empty bowl and scrolling quietly on her phone.

"Hey," she responded distractedly. He poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around the room. It would be the last morning in his kitchen that didn't include you, and the thought made warmth bloom in his chest and excitement flicker under his skin.

"Big day," he said, but Sarah only nodded. "Y'know, been meanin' to talk to you 'bout somethin'."

She pulled her gaze up from her phone and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"

He nodded and took a deep breath before sitting across the table from her. He told her it was about you and she sat back in her chair.

"Bucky?"

He nodded, the silly nickname coming from his daughter's lips that only previously came from your immediate family making him smile.

"You know I'm cool with her moving in, we talked about it months ago. I think it's great. She's amazing and we have so much fun-"

"It's not that," he said, cutting her off before he lost his nerve. "One day - and I ain't sayin' today - but one day, I wanna ask her to marry me."

Sarah just continued to stare blankly at him, so he continued.

"I love her so much, babygirl. She means so much to me, 'n so does her family. I can't imagine my life, our life, without her."

"Yeah, duh," she replied, giving him an incredulous look. "Obviously if she's moving in I figured that would be the next step."

He frowned. "You did?"

"Dad," she whined, rolling her eyes. "I'm seventeen now. Soon, I'll be in college. I want you to be happy. I don't want to worry about you being sad and alone when I'm gone."

"Gee, thanks," he scoffed over his mug, and she giggled.

"What I'm saying is, I think it's great. Go for it. She'll totally say yes."

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah?"

Sarah gave him a deadpan look. "Yes, Dad. She's moving in with you. She's not expecting friendship bracelets."

He smirked and looked down at his coffee. One thing was checked off the list, now he had to think about when and how he would ask you.

It was a long day.

You hadn't even lived in Texas for a full year yet but you managed to accumulate a lot more shit than you thought. Fortunately, between Joel, Tommy, your dad and Josh, your brother in law, all the furniture was quickly unloaded. The time consuming part was working out the angles in hallways and stairs. Since Joel and Sarah already had more than enough furniture, the two of you decided to put your old couch and television in the basement, an idea which Sarah excitedly jumped on board with.

You could hear the men grunting and talking through different ideas on how to get your couch into the basement all the way from Joel's - your - bedroom upstairs with Sarah.

"I am obsessed with this purse," Sarah sighed, tossing a red leather Michael Kors tote over her shoulder. Prior to living in Texas, you lived in New York City and had created quite the collection of designer clothes and accessories thanks mostly to your ex-fiancé. Since moving, you found very little use for most of it and your style evolved to one that was much more relaxed and comfortable. More you.

"Keep it," you told her as you opened up a box of your bathroom things. She gawked at you while you began to drag the box towards the bathroom, already smiling to yourself as you thought about Joel seeing all the girly face masks and perfumes cluttering his once rather masculine space.

"Are you serious?"

You glanced up at her and shrugged. "Sure. I haven't used it in a year and I have plenty more. It's all yours."

"Oh, my god," she murmured, holding the bag close to her chest. "Thank you!"

You grinned and pulled out bottles of shampoo and conditioner. "Don't mention it."

There was a loud thud that came from the basement and you both froze, waiting to hear panicked calls for help, but after a moment laughter erupted amongst the men and you both exchanged looks of relief.

"I bet Dad that Uncle Tommy would be the one to hurt himself," she told you, crouching to help unpack more of your toiletries.

You laughed and shook your head. "You're probably right."

Glancing at the time, you stood up and weaved your way through the boxes littering the floor to grab your wallet laying on the bed.

"Would you mind calling in a couple pizzas for delivery?" you asked Sarah, handing her your credit card. She nodded and patted down her pants.

"Shoot. I think I left my phone in my room," she said as she headed towards the door. "Ronny's Pizza, right?"

"Yeah, that's good," you called after her before stubbing your toe on a half empty cardboard box. "Shit," you muttered angrily, then squat down to scoop up what was left in the box and get it out of your way.

Wrestling with an armful of socks and bras, you carefully made your way to the dresser and yanked open a drawer. You mistakenly had opened Joel's underwear drawer instead of the one he had emptied for you, but right as you were about to close it, something caught your eye. Was that...? Slowly, you reached forward and nudged a pair of boxers out of the way so you could get a better look.

Your eyes went wide and your heart jumped into your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box nestled between his things. The fingers holding up the pair of underwear began to shake and you nervously swallowed the lump in your throat.

Maybe it was a class ring.

Maybe it was a piece of his mom's jewelry he saved for Sarah.

Or maybe it was a fucking engagement ring.

You heard creaking on the stairs and you quickly dropped the boxers back over the box and slammed the drawer shut. By the time Joel entered the room, you had successfully found your drawer and were halfway done putting your clothes away.

"Hey, darlin'," he murmured, sidling up behind you. He buried his nose in your shoulder and slowly circled his arms around your waist.

"Hey, yourself," you replied, hoping your voice sounded normal and he couldn't feel your heart slamming in your chest. Already got the ring he had said to you drunkenly the night before your sister gave birth. "How are things going down there?" you asked, trying to refocus and get your mind off what you just saw.

Joel breathed in deep and began to sway you both back and forth. "Good. Everythin's all set. Got a nice man cave set up now."

You giggled and closed your drawer before turning around in his arms. "Man cave, huh?"

"That's right," he said softly with a grin. "Gonna be great in 'nother month when football season starts."

"I don't know, I think Sarah was already making plans to have her girlfriends over down there. Might cramp your man cave style," you told him, arms draping loosely around his neck.

"'S'alright, I just give her a hundred bucks and let her borrow the car and then it's all mine," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against your throat. "Be nice to have some privacy down there, too," he added, tilting his head in the other direction so he could give the other side of your neck the same attention.

"Yeah? Privacy for what?" you teased, chin lifting up to give him better access. You felt him chuckle against your skin.

"For anythin' we want," he replied, tearing his mouth away from your shoulder so he could brush his lips gently over yours.

"Mmm, like board games?" you asked, giggling when his lips froze and his face pulled away, giving you a look of disbelief.

"Is that what we're callin' it?"

You nodded and stretched onto your tiptoes so you could kiss him again.

"Okay, the pizza'll be here - oh. Gross," Sarah said when she appeared in the doorway. You pulled away and grinned while Joel looked over his shoulder with a frown.

"Gross?" he repeated, voice laced with disgust. "Seein' me happy is gross?"

Sarah rolled her eyes as she navigated the minefield of boxes in the room to hand you back your credit card. "Is this what it's gonna be like now? You guys sucking face in every room?"

"Hate to tell you, kiddo, but it's always been that way," you told her as you dropped your arms from around Joel's neck to take your card back.

"Pizza?" he questioned excitedly as if he just processed what Sarah said, and you nodded.

"Figured you guys would be hungry."

Joel groaned in delight and wrapped his arms around you once again, making you laugh.

"Alright, gimme a second to leave at least," Sarah said, turning towards the door as quickly as possible, but not before you caught the smile on her face.

"Hey, can I give you a hand?" Tommy asked as he entered your kitchen. You could hear Josh, your father, Sarah and Joel laughing in the living room with the television on in the background.

"Oh, Tommy, that's so sweet but I got it. You've done so much already today, thank you for your help," you said with a smile as you continued to clean up the pizza. Tommy leaned against the counter and watched you move around his brother's kitchen like you had been there your whole life, and he couldn't help but smile.

"You look right at home already," he told you, making your cheeks warm. You pulled out some foil and shrugged.

"I've stayed over a couple times, what can I say?"

He chuckled and continued to watch you work quietly for a moment.

"Say, what'dya think 'bout you and Joel goin' on a double date with me and Maria?"

"Oh, I would love that!" you exclaimed, meeting his gaze briefly as you moved towards the fridge. "Must be getting serious if you're ready to introduce her to family, huh?"

"Yeah, I think so," Tommy said, shyly looking down at the tile floor. "She's so pretty. Smart, too. And funny. We have such a great time together. I'll tell you, I ain't ever remember feelin' this way 'bout a girl before."

Your jaw hung open in shock after you turned away from the closed fridge. "Tommy! This is... amazing!"

He scratched the back of his neck and grinned. "Yeah, it is," he agreed warmly.

"He botherin' you, baby?" Joel asked as he strolled into the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He shot you a wink right after Tommy gave him the finger.

"I was just telling Tommy we should go on a double date with him and Maria," you said, leaning into the hug he gave you. Tommy gave you a thumbs up behind Joel's back and you smiled over his shoulder, knowing intuitively that his brother would tease him mercilessly if he knew Tommy was the one with the idea instead of you.

"Oh, yeah?" Joel asked, pulling back to look at Tommy. He nodded.

"Yeah, sounds like fun. Maybe grab some drinks down at Mike's. Play some pool."

"Alright. Set it up, can't wait to meet her," Joel told him before squeezing past you to get another beer from the refrigerator.

The men spent another hour or so relaxing in the living room while you and Sarah did the best you could to clear up the remaining boxes in your bedroom. You did rather well, too. By the time everyone was ready to say good night, you only had two boxes left, both of which you stacked and shoved into a corner to deal with the next day.

You were looking forward to collapsing into bed after a long, eventful day when Sarah asked if she could go to the movies with a few of her friends.

"Please, Dad? School starts up in a couple weeks," she begged, and Joel didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't need to bother to beg. He handed her some money from his wallet and she rushed up to her bedroom to get ready, announcing her friend Katy would pick her up in twenty minutes.

"Strange how Katy knew to pick her up before I said it was alright," Joel told you with a fake look of confusion. You laughed and plopped next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder while he flipped through the channels on the television.

You wrapped your hand around his bicep and snuggled in closer as he wavered back and forth between two different action movies. When you really thought about it, it was funny. Your life was so different just a year ago. You were engaged to someone else, living in New York City, wearing expensive clothes and dining at restaurants you didn't really care for but your fiancé did, so you pretended to like them, too. Now you were living a completely different life. One of comfort and love and joy and you had never felt happier.

As if he could read your mind, Joel lifted his arm and tugged you closer by the shoulders, then planted a kiss on the top of your head, further emphasizing how perfect your life seemed now.

"I'm coming downstairs now! Stop making out!" Sarah warned as she stomped down the steps. You stifled your laughter and Joel shot her a scowl.

"We're just watchin' TV."

"And I'm just covering my bases," she said with a grin, holding her hands up in surrender. A faint beep came from the road and she grabbed the purse you had given her earlier that day and said, "don't wait up!" over her shoulder before the door clicked shut.

"Don't wait up?" Joel repeated with a snort. "She's seventeen goin' on thirty."

You giggled and gazed up at him from your place against his side. "You wanna play some board games?"

He looked confused for a moment before the realization dawned on him.

"Hell, yes."

The basement looked nicer than you expected. It wasn't completely finished but there was an area Joel had built a wall around and painted years ago. He had installed a drop ceiling and some laminate flooring but he never got around to actually doing much else with it until you moved in and had extra furniture. An area rug from your old apartment was in the center of the room, your old couch resting on top and your television was placed on your entertainment center across from the sofa. You had some floor lamps and end tables you could arrange in the space later on but for now, it was nice.

But all that didn't really matter that particular day. Not when your shorts dangled around one ankle, which was slung over the back of the couch, your legs spread wide as Joel kneeled on the area rug, his fingers gripping your hips as his tongue feverishly lapped at your pussy.

"Fuck, Joel... I'm close," you whined, hand clawing at his hair, your hips grinding shamelessly against his face. He just groaned, eyes fluttering closed as he drank you in, your scent engulfing him, absolutely loving the way you fell apart under his tongue.

"Joel," you gasped, mouth hung open as your gaze fixed on the top of his head. "Joel, d-do t-that thing-" you moaned loudly, cutting yourself off when he repeatedly grazed his teeth over your clit while working two fingers into your cunt, curling them so they pressed against that one spot he knew drove you crazy each time he dragged them in and out.

A moment later, your body went rigid and tears sprung to your eyes as you came, ragged groans melting into quiet little whimpers until he finally pulled away from the center of your thighs. His eyes were dark and wild as he panted for air, watching you with a cocky smirk as you struggled to come to your senses.

"Gonna let me fuck you now, baby?" he murmured, his pants already pushed halfway down his legs. You nodded in a daze, thighs trembling still when he stepped out of his jeans and kneeled onto the couch. He hovered over you, pressing his thick length against your pussy while he bent forward to bite and suck at your throat.

You gasped sharply and grabbed his shoulders when he first entered you. The initial stretch always took your breath away, regardless if he made you come first or not. You came to crave that feeling, those first few seconds of intrusion that made your mind go blank and your heart stutter before your body made room for him and relaxed. And because you knew he loved to hear it, your mouth found his ear and you whimpered, "so big," and you smiled when you heard his responding growl.

A few days before you moved in with Joel, you laid awake at night in your apartment, thinking back to your relationship before him. When you moved in with Will, it seemed like something shifted almost immediately, and not in a good way. The spark fizzled out as you adjusted to living with one another, putting up with each other's quirks and bad habits. Logically, you knew that spark was dying before you moved in together but at the time, you didn't want to admit it. But anxiety still crept up and you wondered if the same thing would happen with Joel.

What a stupid thing to worry about.

What you had with Joel was so different, it was hard to describe. But it was a feeling, something deep inside that couldn't be denied. This was special. This was unlike anything you ever experienced before and it was foolish to try to compare it to anything else.

As if you needed further proof, Joel sensed your mind had drifted elsewhere and he nipped at your lower lip to draw your attention back to him.

"What's wrong?" he whispered when you met his gaze. His hips had slowed down, worried you were uncomfortable and didn't want to say it. You slowly smiled and draped your arms around his neck, looking up at him with such love and adoration that he couldn't stop himself from smiling in return.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect," you told him. You tugged him down so you could give him a kiss, then mumbled, "you're perfect," against his mouth.

Joel flushed and shook his head gently, resuming his steady pace. Sometimes he had a hard time believing you were real. He spent a good chunk of his adult life thinking he would never find true love and after a few years of loneliness, he grew to accept that. He threw himself into his work and focused on raising Sarah but when he met you, it was like everything changed. He couldn't stop thinking about you to the point where he would have been content with just getting to know you better, but the moment he first felt your lips against his, he knew he didn't stand a chance. But when he first made love to you, it was all over. He knew within seconds he could never let you go, and he never did.

"You're the one who's perfect. God, so fuckin' tight," he groaned, flexing his hips with a little more force. You rewarded him with a sweet little moan and tipped your head back into the couch. "That feel good, baby?" he breathed, watching with pride as you writhed underneath him.

"Yeah," you whispered before sinking your teeth into your lower lip, skin already red and sensitive from where his own teeth had laid claim. "Again. Harder, Joel," you pleaded, and his eyelids fluttered as he tried to slow down his own orgasm that was already growing all too quickly.

He gave you what you wanted, hips snapping into yours roughly. Your whole body rocked beneath him, breasts bouncing free under your thin T-shirt, jaw slack and back arched so beautifully he had to look away before he came too soon.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whined, face pinching as he forced another orgasm to the surface with each powerful thrust.

"You like that?" he murmured, his dark eyes raking over your body greedily. "Tell me, baby. C'mon, wanna hear it."

"Yes," you whimpered, eyes still screwed shut, "feel so fucking good, Joel, fuck... so... so deep, I want more." You took in a deep breath, your release so close you could taste it. "More... don't stop, please... I-I need..." you were rambling now, unable to form a full sentence, barely aware you were saying anything at all and fuck, did he love being the one to make you do that. Make you lose control and give in, putting all your faith and trust in him to give you what you want. To make you feel good.

"I know what you need," he said through gritted teeth, then grabbed ahold of your hip and ground himself roughly against your cunt. Your eyes flew open and he smiled when you cried out, clenching around him after only two or three passes over your clit.

You were whispering his name mixed with something else incoherent as you came down and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He slammed into you over and over, eyes fixed on the way your pussy strained around his girth, his cock all shiny and slick with your arousal and he came with a loud groan, thrusting into you deep and slow until he was spent.

His arms began to tremble so he slowly lowered himself down to rest the side of his head against your chest and instantly, your hands came up to card through his hair. He sighed and closed his eyes, soaking in your gentle touch as his heart began to slow.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" you asked softly, fingers still threading through his curls.

"Yeah, I do," Joel replied, eyes still shut as he nuzzled into your chest.

"Good. Me, too."

Maria was fun.

You knew immediately you would get along. Her sense of humor and her carefree attitude completely contradicted her profession as a newly appointed Assistant District Attorney, and you absolutely loved how full of surprises she was, especially how good she was at pool.

"Y'know, we just let you girls win," Joel teased when he put his pool cue down.

"Oh, yeah? Is that why I heard you and Tommy talking strategy on my way back from the bathroom?" you shot back. He grinned and tugged you into his chest, kissing the crown of your head before releasing you.

"C'mon, Tommy. Losers buy the next round," he said, giving his younger brother a playful shove. Tommy squeezed Maria's hand and gave her a warm smile before following Joel to the bar, leaving just you two to find an empty table. Maria spotted one right when a group of four were standing up to leave and she grabbed your arm, practically dragging you across the crowded floor to snag it before someone else did.

"Good eye!" you told her when you slid into the booth, the green, plastic cushion underneath you essentially useless after years of being flattened and never replaced. The table was sticky from spilled beer and droplets of hot sauce, so you each got to work yanking handfuls of napkins out of the dispenser at the end of the table and squirting hand sanitizer over the tabletop to clean the area as best you could.

"I don't think Tommy told me how long you two've been together," Maria said, her eyes lifting to search the bar for your dates.

"Uh, eight months or so," you told her, "we met right before Christmas."

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "I would have guessed much longer. It feels like you know each other so well."

You could feel your cheeks warm from the compliment. It was clear to you what you had with Joel was special but it was always nice to hear others could see it, too.

"What about you and Tommy? He's been keeping you a secret but I want to guess... two months?"

"Three, actually," she corrected you. "We both agreed to take things slow. I had just gotten this job and I knew I would be putting in long hours, I wasn't really sure if I had the time to devote to a relationship but he stuck it out. I really thought he was going to bail when I kept having to call it early so many nights and cancel dates last minute but he's a trooper."

You leaned across the table and wiggled your eyebrows at her. "That's 'cause he really likes you."

She giggled and waved you off but you could see the delight in her eyes.

"I'm serious! I've only known him for as long as I've known Joel but from what I was told, Tommy didn't bring girls around often. Especially lately. You must be special," you teased, making her smile widen.

Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Tommy and Joel were having a similar conversation.

Now that Tommy had a few beers in him, he was more open to telling his brother about Maria and how happy he was with her.

"I'm tellin' you, Joel, I think she's the one," he was saying, slamming down an empty shot glass next to Joel's on the messy bar top.

"I like her, she keeps you in line," Joel quipped, taking a sip from his beer to chase the shot of whiskey. "Girls are gettin' along real good, too."

Tommy nodded and looked across the bar. "And how's things goin' with you two? She wanna move out yet?"

Joel laughed and shook his head. "Nah, it's only been two weeks. It'll probably take at least a month 'fore she realizes she made a mistake," he joked.

Tommy chuckled but caught the fond look in Joel's eye when he thought about you.

"So, you think this is it for us?" he asked, and Joel glanced up from his beer. "We finally found the ones?"

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk and he nodded.

"Hope so." Then maybe he was feeling a little braver, or maybe it was the alcohol, but he added, "got the ring already, be a little tough tryin' to take it back."

Tommy's eyes bugged out of his head. "You - what?"

Joel sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Yep. Had it for a while now. Asked Paul 'n everythin'."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed like a fish, completely stunned.

"And Sarah?"

He nodded and took a nervous sip from his bottle. "Talked to her, too. She's thrilled."

Tommy broke out into a huge grin and tugged Joel into a quick hug before pulling away and giving him a playful shoulder shove. "So when are you gonna do it?"

Joel sighed and looked around. "I don't know. When it feels right, I suppose."

"Shit," Tommy replied, rubbing his chin. "Gonna be a hell of a year."

Joel nodded and looked down at your drinks sitting on the bar. "We oughta go find the girls."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed, shaking his head like he was snapping out of a trance. He reached for Maria's drink while Joel grabbed yours but before they began to weave their way through the bar, Tommy stopped him.

"Congrats, brother. I'm happy for you."

"She didn't say yes yet," Joel reminded him with a raised eyebrow, but Tommy just shrugged.

"She will."

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[talesofesther]

something like love

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond finds a gentle love with you.

A/N: Let me know if you want to see more of Aemond here. :)

Masterlist

The feeling of a spring air still lingered in the garden, even if it was already the beginning of fall. A few flowers still bloomed, the trees still had green leaves that danced slowly with the wind.

It was a peaceful place, removed from the weight that lingered inside the walls of The Red Keep. As Aemond lazily walked the overgrown stone path, he decided he quite enjoyed the quiet.

He rubbed at the skin of his palm with his other thumb, his eye scanning the surroundings, searching. He's not sure why he volunteered to come, if he was simply looking for an excuse to get away for a moment, or something else.

You usually liked to hide away in the gardens. "It's beautiful and calm there." Aemond heard you telling Helaena the other day, as he'd been selfishly taken a liking to observe you more lately.

It was your fault, really. For having a voice that wasn't sharp to his ears and for looking at him as if the painful reminder of his past hadn't been forever carved onto his skin, as if he was still worthy of a pretty lady's attention.

It was farfetched to think he could ever gain your affection, Aemond knew this. Yet it didn't stop his heart from wishing, and he also knew, that if anyone were to give him a sweet demise, it would be you.

He found you after rounding a corner hidden away by a big willow tree that had its trunk crooked and bent in a weird way, as it had made its way around other trees to reach sunlight. You sat on the grass, tucked away in a secluded nook, and weaving together small flowers until they haphazardly formed a crown. Flowers bloomed in the bushes around you and it was as if nature itself bent its rules to match your beauty. There was a delicacy about you that was foreign to Aemond's world and he worried he was becoming addicted to it.

The way the prince's heart leaped in his chest was instant, his hands grew clammy, and he felt a prickling need to turn around and rush back to the castle; for he was suddenly a thorn in your field of flowers. He hesitated, feet unmoving while he watched you from afar.

It couldn't be. Aemond's lips hung open, mouth dry. He was nervous.

He'd never been alone with you before.

The wind carried your perfume to him, and eventually, your gaze. Your eyebrows raised softly in surprise upon catching him just standing there, watching you, with arms limp beside his body and hands closed in loose fists.

Aemond felt his cheeks warming up, his heart now beating faster in a manner he was all too used to. His mind raced when thinking of how pathetic he must look, like a scared boy cowering from a pretty girl, what must you think of him-

"My prince," you spoke, bringing him away from the darkest places of his mind, voice as sweet as the small smile you had on your lips; for him. You lay the flower crown you held in your hands back in the grass where it came from. "You've found me."

Aemond had trouble shaking the feeling that you seemed pleased to see him. It was almost as if you'd hoped he'd come find you. He cleared his throat, avoiding his eye from yours with the guise of bowing his head in a cordial nod. "My lady," he began, internally wincing when his voice came out just a little too breathless, "I've come to escort you back inside, dinner should be ready shortly."

Your smile shifted into a smirk that Aemond had trouble reading, there was an alluring glint to your eyes that called him in. "Oh, how kind of you."

He took the final steps to close the distance between you, mindful to avoid stepping on the pale pink flowers you seemed to like so much. He offered you his hand, yet worried, even if in the back of his mind, whether you'd actually take it or not.

You didn't hesitate for a moment before placing your palm in his, allowing his fingers to close around yours and pull you up effortlessly. Your hand lingered in his for just a moment, before you let go to brush off any grass that had stuck to your clothes.

When you looked back up at Aemond again, your stomach filled with the familiar feeling of butterflies and your heart swelled with the hints of affection you'd inevitably developed for him; for the way his eye softened with only a small ring of color around his blown pupil, for the way his long hair fell over relaxed shoulders and framed his handsome face, for the way his lips tilted just a tad up into a smile, features soft and free of any burden. Whether he realized it or not, Aemond seemed to let down his armor around you, if even a little.

You both walked the stone path that led back to the castle at a slow pace, side by side with your shoulders occasionally brushing against each other. A mutual silent understanding between you that neither you nor him were particularly eager for the moment to end.

Despite the time of year, many flowers remained in the grass and in between shrubs. Some of them had a lovely perfume, some of them housed eager bees and butterflies. One in particular caught your eye, however, and you approached it with a spring in your step.

It was a small little thing, with white petals and a yellowish middle; it wouldn't be missed in the big expanse of the garden. With a deft grip, you plucked out the flower. There was a hint of a smile on your lips as you looked at it, twirling the tiny thing between your index finger and thumb.

Aemond had gone quiet but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. He did that a lot, you noticed; looked at you when you weren't looking at him.

With no words, you turned around and extended the small flower to him, the tilt of your head and the sway of your lips spoke enough, a silent; 'for you'.

Aemond concealed his surprise. Or he tried to. He had both hands clasped behind his back, but you could see his shoulders tensing as soon as your attention diverted back to him, as if waiting, expecting something unkind. His eyebrows furrowed softly, pinching together in curious confusion while his good eye drifted between you and the white flower held between your fingers.

He took his time. The soft breeze blowing through the garden made his hair flow, strands of it getting caught in his eyelashes and forcing him to push it behind his ear; you followed the motion with your gaze, wishing to be the one who brushed his hair and whispered comfort into his skin. You'd wait, for as long as he needed to understand you were not one of the unkind ones.

Delicate.

His touch was as delicate as the flower. With the same hand with which he wielded swords and commanded a dragon, he reached for yours. His fingers grazed yours when he took the flower from you, and he did so slowly, bordering on hesitant, as if the white petals would wither and die by his touch.

Part of you didn't expect his delicacy. Part of you has always known he was nothing but delicate. Not as fragile or weak as the white flower, no. But delicate, soft, something to be handled with care. Beneath the rough facade, hid a gentle heart after all.

Your smile widened when his own lips twitched upwards as he gazed down at the flower in his hand like it was the most precious gift he'd ever held. His other hand came up, fingertips grazing the white petals as if to confirm they were real. There was a soft pink hue to his cheeks, his eye shining with something foreign to you, yet that you already adored. You felt privileged. No one knew this Aemond but you.

When he finally looked up at you again, there was a newfound vulnerability to his gaze, his features, all of him. His lips hovered but no words came out, he blinked once, twice, and took a step toward you.

You understood the words stuck in his throat. Gratitude. Gratitude for loving him.

With more boldness than rational thought, you stood on your tip toes and lay a chaste yet lingering kiss on the corner of his lips. And Aemond leaned into you once you pulled away, chasing after your touch.

It was your turn to feel your cheeks heating up, as you raised an arm and hooked it around one of his own, tugging him along the overgrown path of the garden.

For a cherished moment, peace reigned. Aemond pulled you closer.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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