#thanks for asking me mari 💜

[foolishlovers]

hi bestie💖🫂

can you rec me some longer enemies to lovers AU? bonus if they are complete idiots.

thank you love!💕

of course, always 💜

here are some of my favourite longer good omens enemies to lovers AUs (ranging from 46k-201k):

[you can request more fic recs here.]

Fire, Bridges, and other Sensible Idioms by KiaraMGrey (E, 46k) To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash your own… You are an arsehole! Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow. If you have any problems with this, come see me in 301. or Aziraphale has a new neighbor, and they certainly don't start off on the right foot.

Intermezzo by FeralTuxedo (E, 47k) Music critic Aziraphale Fell is trying to break into the world of television, when he is signed to make a documentary about former-rockstar-turned-composer Anthony Crowley. It’s been eleven years since Aziraphale’s disastrous review of Crowley’s debut opera nipped his classical music career in the bud. He can only hope that Crowley will get over his admittedly justified grudge to make the TV show a success. A classical music sex comedy. Yes, really.

through the silent wood by summerofspock (M, 57k) When Aziraphale Eastgate first moves to Tadfield, he struggles to understand the strange culture of the village. They're not friendly or kind or anything he expected from a village in the north. So when he rescues a snake from a snow storm, he's glad for a little company even if it comes in the form of an animal. Unfortunately, in Tadfield, animals are often not what they seem.

Fifty-Two Blue by bendycello (M, 84k) It would be a gross understatement to say that Crowley simply didn't like Aziraphale. He was posh and stuffy and arrogant, and Crowley couldn't figure out why everyone else in the program liked him so much. It hardly mattered; they were competitors, and Crowley didn't need to make friends to become a surgeon. It takes several unleasant encounters, the excessive use of house plants as a coping mechanism, and getting stuck in an elevator for Crowley to start reconsidering his priorities. Or… Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do.

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T, 146k) “Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison (E, 151k) Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And…it does not go at all well, until it does. A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way. +++ “So what’s your deal?” “My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.” “Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound. “It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?” “Arrangement?” Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums before eleven? Instead of after?” Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

The Curve of Old Bones by Jenanigans1207 (E, 201k) Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s smile grows, sharpens and turns distinctively dastardly. And even though Aziraphale knows what he’s in store for, he’s entirely unprepared for the words that slip out of Crowley’s mouth next. “Name’s Anthony Crowley, Aziraphale’s husband.” Aziraphale is eternally grateful that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at that exact moment for he would’ve surely choked on it. When Crowley claims to be Aziraphale's husband to ruin what he assumes is a date, he doesn't think anything of it. But a day later it comes back to bite him in the ass when Crowley finds out that the date in question is, in fact, his new boss, who is looking to hire Aziraphale and hoping that Crowley, his husband, will put in a good word for them. Now Crowley is caught in a tight spot: either admit to his new boss that he was lying, or convince Aziraphale, his sort-of enemy, to pretend to be his husband to save face.

stil on my tbr:

Miracles on Ice by HenriettaRHippo (E, 52k, WIP) Two rival figure skaters - Aziraphale and Crowley - must team up as the world's first male-male figure skating pair. There's just one problem…they can't stand each other. Can these two put aside their hatred to bring back the gold? Or was that hatred just a cover for deeper feelings bubbling under the surface? It's enemies to lovers, on ice! Crowley And The Chocolate Factory by entanglednow (E, 54k) Crowley has to step up for his nephew Adam when he wins a ticket to tour the famous chocolate factories, run by the reclusive and deeply strange Zira Zonka. It doesn't take Crowley long to decide that he wants nothing to do with the man, who's clearly hiding dark and mysterious secrets.

To Conquer A Grand Estate by MrsCaulfield, angelsnuffbox (M, 84k) 'He fought against another thing as well. He fought against hope, the warmth and pleasing sensation of it, wanting to bloom in his chest. He took it and kept it within confinement, aware that it would no longer do him any service. A foolish thing it was, to realise how greatly and ardently he could have loved Crowley now, when all love was vain.' Good Omens x Pride and Prejudice fusion that no one asked for

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

[fridayiminlovemp3]

every time i send an angry email to my old university (which happens way too often because they SUCKKKKK) the same girl replies and i feel sooooooo guilty because we’re kind of friends and went to school together and she’s really sweet and it’s not her fault that the school sucks :((( but then i remember thats she’s straight up addicted to one direction rpf (like she’s constantly liking larry conspiracy theories on instagram.. like the entire world can’t see it 😐) and she probably has a larry fic open in the other tab while she’s replying to me and then i’m like okay never mind she’s doing fine she can handle my annoying emails

[nicksolemnlyswears]

hi! i just saw the ask you answered about leaving aemond out and i giggled.

if i may offer an idea, what about if reader finds out where aemond goes to find comfort (the brothel) and is upset because she thought differently of him but maybe he confesses what he actually does there (tittie suckin and therapy) and she offers aemond her own comfort. maybe reader looks more like their mother and it's exactly what aemond wants/needs. he's such a broken boy with horrible mommy issues.

this is not me at all telling you that you NEED to write a fic about this. i just had this idea jumbled around in my head and i don't know how to write it myself. 😂

thank you for your fics. they are truly wonderful. 💜

pairing: aemond targaryen x hightower!reader

word count: ~8.3k

warnings: 18+, cursing, spoilers of s2 of hotd, talks about brothels and prostitutes, fingering, p in v, lactation (milk play? i don't even know what i did), nipple play, slight mommy kink (or a lot depending how you see it), talks of infidelity, slight somno, riding

a/n: it's funny that this ask was sent cause i had something similar in mind. so this came super easily to me. i added some fire to the reader cause after ep 4 of hotd i was so angry at aemond (and still am). i can't believe he did that to aegon (he's my boy of the season) not to mention what he did to queen meleys and queen rhaenys. i'm not sure if i'd be able to forgive him. @heybank i hope this is somewhat like what you had in mind!

it came out a little longer than expect but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy! also aemond is stubborn in this fic but an equally stubborn reader and i love her for it. the reader and aegon are lowkey besties because i only want the best for him lol so don't mind that. i am ecstatic for the next episode and see the fall out of ep 4.

do you know the struggle i had to find aemond's whore's name. omg most difficult part of this oneshot.

after this fic i think i need to go to church and confess. i'm sure the priest will douse me in holy water and make me pray a hundred holy marys or something.

enjoy!!

It slipped out in the midst of their endless teasing and banter. The one secret Aemond never wished for you to find out. You're strong enough to know about the others; you recognize who he truly is at his core: an ambitious, envious man, but this one secret? This one he prayed you never knew about.

Aegon and you had been indulging in the sweet wine imported from High Garden. A delicacy that made your head fuzzy and your body loose. After finding you strolling all alone through the gardens, he insisted on drinking with you. If someone were to appease him by complaining about matters of the council, it would be you.

Those meetings drag on for hours on end on multiple occasions during the day as ravens fly in to share news of the brewing war. It robs you of your husband's attention and robs Aegon of his will to live as they tell him what to do and say, completely ignoring any input he might have—as idiotic as it may be.

You meet your distant cousin midway, complaining about how boring the meetings are and how uptight everyone is, including your husband. You offer the new King honest advice disguised as flippant comments, hoping he'll accept it even if he thinks of it as his own.

"It's not like I'm the only one who indulges in the pleasure of the street of silk. Every nobleman loves to get their cock wet by those whores," Aegon mumbles as a response to being reprimanded for his escapade late last night with his guards.

The charitable King paid for the villager's drinks and entertainment for the night. It was a prosperous night for the brothel. The 'ladies' will do just about anything to get coin. Who says the King doesn't aid his subordinates in need?

You stifle a laugh with the back of your hand and shake your head at him, "Yes, but you're the King now. It's not about laying with a commoner. It's about security. There are people who would do just about anything to gain Rhaenyra's favor, including hurting you, Aegon…"

Reasoning with Aegon is a challenge. His mind spins in ways you will never comprehend, but you try to keep your cousin safe while appeasing the council.

If Aegon values something, it's his life. If he knows there is danger out there, he will hold back, even if it's for a night or two. Her duty as his friend is to keep reminding him of all the danger lurking in the dark corners of the silk street.

"I suppose you're right, dear cousin. Guess we'll have to bring them here," he laughs as he thinks of the pandemonium it will cause. "I'll have Thalia and Margery or perhaps Dorothy. Hell, why limit myself? I'm the King! The guards can have their pick of the lot, Aemond will have his old reliable, and Lord Lannister can have the beautiful Sarah."

Aegon tips his goblet, drinking the last drops of wine to quench his dry mouth, failing to notice his slip-up.

Aemond's name sends a burning chill down your spine, and your mouth turns to cotton as it dries up. As you repeat Aegon's words, your heart promises to break out of your ribcage. Surely, you misunderstood his words.

"Aemond's old reliable?" You laugh to keep Aegon at ease. Grabbing the pitcher of wine to fill both of your cups, urging him to drink more and get his tongue looser. He won't remember your interrogation by morning.

"Ah yes, the first woman he fucked. Thanks to me, might I add. He still loves to visit her. I'd say her tits got him all enamored."

Just like the women in court, Aegon prattles on and on about everything he knows about Aemond and his whore. Including how he found him laying with her just last night—naked as the day he was born, blue sapphire glinting freely under the candlelight.

Blinding hot fury courses through your veins, lighting you up in flames from the inside out. Aegon will assume your reddening face and chest are from the wine and his vulgar words. There is no use in correcting him as you urge him to continue talking.

By night's end, you are equally as drunk as Aegon. The Guards escort you both to your respective chambers, watching amusedly how you argue with Aegon about whose dragon is strongest, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre. In reality, you were plotting which sibling would aid you in yelling dracarys in Aemond's direction.

You wish the alcohol would make you forget, but the sad truth is you will remember every single detail. The pounding headache you'll have in the morning will be a painful reminder of the secrets spilled over red wine.

For a fortnight, you sit and think about the valuable information Aegon shared with you. Anger burns ardently inside of you as it has nowhere to go. As a lady of the court, you're not allowed to train with the men, and as a Hightower, you have no dragon to channel that anger through.

If your fury were to be caused by any other reason, you'd find release in Aemond's arms. His aching cock stroking your drenched walls fervently. His sweaty skin sticking to yours. His fingers digging into your curves to find purchase. The low tone of his voice in your ear whispering words you'd never dare repeat and shamefully make you peak around him.

The thought makes you sick. How many times has he fucked her in such a way? Is it different? Does he let go and fuck her harder as he's not afraid she'll break?

Thinking is your worst enemy. As you imagine every possible scenario, your insecurities rise from their hiding spots. Does he love her? He laid bare with her; he must feel something if he allowed her to see him in such a vulnerable position.

The memory of the first time he took off his eyepatch in your presence pains you. So many conversations and stones of trust had to be set to get to that point, yet he did it with her. A common whore that dares ask for coin to please him with her presence.

You are different from the other ladies of the court who accept their husbands sleeping around with unknown women. You are jealous and territorial, something Aemond knew when you married. Under the eyes of the seven, he swore that his loyalties lay solely with you.

Alas, all men do is lie. Not even the noblest of men can be trusted. All you asked for was a good husband that would not embarrass you. How foolish of you to believe Aemond would be it.

Your fury grows and manifests as you observe Aemond and his whereabouts. It's hard to keep your anger at bay, but he's too busy plotting with Criston Cole to notice your withdrawing nature and emotional distance.

Visiting his quarters nearly every night tells you all you need to know. In that fortnight, you find him missing a multitude of times. There's no doubt he's in the brothel. Where else might he be deep into the night as the world sleeps?

When you ask about his location, the guards hesitate and stumble over their words. They try to save their necks by lying because the Prince continues to slip from their grasp time and time again. They are not as skillful at lying as your husband.

Having had enough, you wait for Aemond's return in his quarters. A goblet of wine is balanced between your fingers. The red liquid swirls along the rounded goblet, mimicking how your anger swirls around you.

You observe the map laid out on the wooden table. His plans are incredibly different from Aegon's. You pity the King as his most trusted advisor and Hand do as they please behind his back.

You've barely drank the wine. The goblet is merely a distraction from your fidgeting hands. You do not need the courage it provides; your anger fuels your intentions.

Old stone rumbles and sets behind you. Turning on your seat, you find Aemond emerging from one of Maegor's tunnels. This is how he sneaks out so damn easily.

"Wife," Aemond greets, keeping his composure, but his tense posture reveals shock. Your husband tends to wear a relaxed stance in your presence. You're the last person he expected to be waiting for him.

"Husband," you reply. The word is bitter on your tongue.

"What brings you in so late? You should be resting," Aemond speaks, taking off his cloak and approaching your seated figure.

Your eyes lazily move up to meet his. "Rest," you chuckle humorlessly. "I haven't been able to find rest in weeks."

"Does something ail you? Should I call a maester?" He asks, giving you a once over. Other than the dark circles around your eyes, there seems to be nothing out of place.

You're still you. Beautiful copper hair that easily identifies you as a Hightower flows down your back, and big brown eyes that resemble his mother's look back at him, although contempt has replaced the unconditional adoration that typically resides there.

His worry sickens you. His existence is an annoyance like a pebble in your shoe. You've harbored this anger for too long, and simple distaste can quickly transform into hate.

"Where were you?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He's not going to get out of this. He must face the consequences of his actions. You will not live in bitterness while he runs around doing as he pleases.

"Conducting some business for the King." Aemond tilts his head, observing your posture and the set of your eyebrows. There's an electricity around you that shoots warning signs at him.

"Where. Were. You?"

"I'm afraid it is none of your business," Aemond says with a sharp exhale. He steps away to avoid your glaring gaze, unbuckling his sheath and setting it on one of the many desks that litter his room.

"I didn't realize we were keeping secrets from each other." The goblet's thud on the table is as loud as your unspoken fury. Wine splashes on the map like blood will spill in battle.

"There are always secrets. I have them. You have them," Aemond answers, leaning back on the desk.

Your hands smooth down the fabric of your dress as you stand. Finding his calculating gaze, you say, "So that's what you call your whore over at the silk street? A secret? I thought her name was Sylvi?"

Aemond freezes, and his muscles tense. You can't possibly know. He's entirely still as if the action would stop time and give him a chance to come up with an explanation, a lie. "I do not know what you speak of," the hesitancy of his voice unveils the cruel truth.

"Spare me the lies, and do not treat me like a naive maiden, Aemond. You know how much I loathe being made a fool," you snap loudly.

Aemond takes three long strides to reach you. Reacting, you take a step back but have nowhere to go. He doesn't touch you, but Aemond towers over you as he glares back. "Who told you? Was it Aegon?" He hisses.

"Please," you scoff. "The maids talk, the guards talk, husband. It was only a matter of time. Did you think I'd never find out? Are you truly that dense, Aemond?"

Your glare is sharp enough to cut him. He fell in love with that look when directed at others, but now that it's looking straight at him, he finds it's the one thing he might hate most.

All people around him have looked at him like that at some point. Aegon. Daemon. Jacaerys. Alicent. All except for his sweet sister and you, his beloved wife.

That look alone makes him regret stepping into the brothel many moons ago.

You should've never found out about Sylvi. It was meant to be a fleeting moment, but the war takes a toll on everyone, including Aemond.

Alicent's disapproving attitude towards him after Lucerys' incident led him to the whore more times than he can count as he sought the comfort Alicent never gave him and he craved.

"What is it that whore gives you that I do not?" You maintain eye contact as your chest presses against his. Your stubbornness will not let you back away from this argument. You deserve an answer.

You thought you were a good wife. Because of you, Aemond has two sons. You provided male heirs, a nobleman's dream. You warmed his bed whenever he asked and even when he didn't. You confided in him. You chose him.

"Talk, damn it. Your scheming plans won't get you out of this one," you yell, slamming your fists on his chest. Picking a fight is the only thing you have left. You want to scream at him until your voice turns raw.

"There is nothing to say. She's a quick fuck; that's all she is," Aemond seamlessly lies, grabbing your thundering fists. His thumb rubs over the back of your hands, hoping the calming gesture will tame your anger.

"A quick fuck? I could've been queen if I tolerated Aegon's quick fucks. The option was right there, and I chose you because I stupidly believed you'd make a better husband," you scream as your cheeks turn an unbelievable shade of red.

"Wife, please," Aemond pleads as you remind him.

The choice to wed you was not his to make. It was entirely yours. Each night, he prayed you'd choose to marry him. A woman of incredible smarts and hypnotizing beauty deserved to be with a man who acknowledged those attributes, not a blundering man like Aegon, who would only use her for her body.

"Do not touch me," you spit, tearing your wrists from his grasp and pushing him back with all the muster you could gather. "How dare you try to touch me after you've laid with her? After you fucked her? You repulse me."

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you spew your words. Aemond stands there, taking it all of your fury—he deserves it. What you hate the most is that he does nothing to defend himself, as if all of your words are the maddening truth.

"It was not my intention to hurt you," Aemond swallows as tears fall down your cheeks.

"These tears do not stem from hurt. They are from humiliation. You embarrassed me, Aemond. Do you know how many hours I've spent praising you in front of the other ladies of the court, speaking about how perfect of a husband you've been these past two years?"

Your pride might be bigger than his, and he's done the worst thing he could ever do— wound it. Such a prideful woman will only forgive him if there's a good enough reason and with lots of begging.

At his silence, you push past him and reach for the door. "I've made my duty as your wife and given you two sons. Do not expect more from me. Go to your little whore and see if she'll perform the wifely duties you asked from me." With one more glance towards your husband, you slam the door.

It is no mystery why Aemond is in a mood from that night forward. Guards stand straighter with him around, Aegon's so-called friends keep quiet, and Criston Cole bears the brunt of it all as Aemond calls him to spar. Each passing day becomes more brutal.

You have stayed true to your word and kept your distance from Aemond. You've never felt as far away from him as when you sit by him during meals. You no longer place your hand on his thigh when Aegon throws jabs at him or smile his way when he says something worth admiring.

If you must address him regarding the children, you do so but with a straight face and without awaiting his answer. The Red Keep has turned grey as you no longer pull him through the halls between duties to find a dark corner to kiss or touch him. Fleeting moments he truly cherished.

He's losing you, and he doesn't know what to do to fix it. He's sure that you will never look at him the same if he comes clean with the truth. It will burn whatever thread is left of your marriage.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Alicent asks. They're in her quarters discussing one of the many plans to prepare for war, and yet he's not paying attention.

"Nothing," he says softly, eyeing the map in front of him. We should send our men to the east."

Alicent tilts her head and sits across from him, studying him closely. "Is this about your wife?"

The glint the young Hightower carries is missing. Her constant search for Aemond throughout the day has ceased abruptly, startling Alicent and Helaena. She rarely mentions him, only speaking about him when asked, and even then, her words have bite.

Alicen believed her son could do no wrong regarding his wife. Aemond adored you. He pinned after you from the moment it was announced that you were searching for a husband.

Alicent was hesitant at first. Marrying inside the family was a queer Targaryen custom, not a Hightower one, yet Otto insisted. Another Hightower in the Red Keep meant more power. He pushed you to marry Aegon while Aemond asked Alicent to consider him instead. She left it in your hands. It was only fair that you made the choice of who you shared your life with.

Aemond is silent momentarily, "She's upset with me." His words are short as he avoids talking about the subject.

"What did you do?" Alicent sighs disappointedly, leaning back on her chair. Why must her sons ruin all good things in their lives?

Alicent's reaction causes him to close back up just as quickly. Yes, it is his fault, but his mother's lack of faith is disheartening. Once upon a time, Aemond would've confided in his mother, but recent events have severed that trust. "My marital problems are none of your concern."

"Then how am I to help you fix this?" She asks in a knowing tone. Alicent feels the weight of her house on her shoulders. She's responsible for keeping everything together.

"I don't recall asking for your help, mother." Aemond ignores her judging eyes, moving the metal pieces around the map. He was here to make war plans, not talk about his feelings.

"Very well," Alicent clears her throat, moving farther away from her son. The gods are punishing as each one of her children drift away from her.

Unlike Aemond's mother, you take your duty as a mother quite seriously. Your children are all you have, and you cherish them equally. You refused a wet nurse when you birthed your first, and when the second followed a year after, you proceeded to do the same.

Feeding them from your breast brings a wave of emotion that is impossible to describe. The bond that forms between mother and child is strengthened by this natural action. Why do the other ladies in court not do the same? All they do is gossip and indulge in the luxuries of the keep. They have no responsibilities other than to please their husbands and care for their children.

The loud cries of your youngest filter through the door and echo throughout the halls of the keep. The babe has been incessantly crying for the past hour for no reason. Feeding and changing his nappy did nothing to ease his discomfort, leaving you overwhelmed. Nonetheless, you continue to soothe your child because if you didn't, what kind of mother would you be?

You ignore Aemond as he steps into your chambers, bouncing the eleven-month-old in your arms. He must've followed the cries. "There, there, Baelor," you coo, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing through the thin strands of pale silver hair.

The babe continues to sniffle and release weak cries. The poor thing is exhausted yet refuses to sleep. He hangs onto his mother's dress and hair, opening and closing his chubby fist.

Aemond approaches you, extending his hands to take him from you, "May I?"

You cannot refuse him. Baelor is his son, and while he seeks the pleasure of common whores you know he adores his sons.

Baelor is fuzzy and complains when he's taken away from your warm embrace, but he immediately settles in his father's hold when he recognizes him. The smell of Aemond's leather clothes offered him the comfort he was searching for.

Baelor missed his father.

"Clearly, you're his favorite," you murmur, settling down in the chaise that faces the fireplace. You're worse for wear. It's hard to find rest when questions remain unanswered, and you've lost the person you love most.

"Only till it's time to feed," Aemond says to lighten the mood between you.

You scoff, removing your jewelry and tossing it on the cushion beside you. "Great, I'm a glorified cow, only used to feed."

Aemond falters, his hold on his son tightening as he curls closer into Aemond's neck. Baelor's soft breaths tickle his neck. "That's not what I meant, wife."

You continue to stare into the fire as tears line your eyes. "I know," you whisper. It's been a difficult day.

Had you not been betrayed by Aemond, you would've sought his attention and spilled all the thoughts running through your mind so he could tell you you were being unreasonable.

He would reassure you that you're intelligent, beautiful, a wonderful mother, cunning, captivating, and a dream come to life.

You're punishing yourself. You decided to distance yourself, and came to the horrid realization that it is much harder than you bargained. You underestimated what three years of always being together would do to you.

Aemond catches on to your apprehension and puts a sleeping Baelor on the cradle the nursemaid left by your bed. He returns to your side and kneels on the floor right by your feet.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes for the first time since that night. It's been a long, difficult four weeks without you by his side. He misses all the little things you did for him.

All the check-ups throughout the day to make sure he's broken fast or slept well. Brushing his hair at night before he takes you to bed and shows you his gratitude. Your eyes meeting his across the room, suggesting he takes you elsewhere for a stolen private moment away from everyone else.

He misses you telling him about everything Baelor and Rhaegar got up to in the day and about every new milestone they hit, suggesting they are as healthy as they can be. He misses the late nights spent tangled together, talking about what the future holds for you both, the idea of having a baby girl for Rhaegar and Baelor to protect.

"What do you apologize for now?"

"For betraying your trust. I made an oath and broke it, and for that, I apologize. It is my biggest regret in life," Aemond says, reaching for your hand. "Please, forgive me."

"Then why do you continue to lie?" You whisper as a tear rolls down your cheeks.

"That's the only truth there is," Aemond whispers breathlessly. You give him a pitiful chuckle and tug your hand away from his despite wanting to hold onto it forever.

Your nose burns as more tears spill from your eyes. Insecurity wrapping you in its arms. "Please, do not lie. Why do you want me to believe you went to the brothel for a fleeting pleasure when I have always been here? Am I not good enough for you?"

Your anger has simmered down to a smoky sadness that envelops you. Aemond is lying to you when you're the person he's supposed to trust the most. If there is a chance of rebuilding this marriage, he must tell you the truth, even if it ruins you.

"Gods, you are everything I wanted and more, my sweet wife," Aemond speaks, cupping your face to wipe away your salty tears.

He's at a loss. He's hurt you, but the pain can be remedied if he speaks the truth. How can he allow you to believe you're not enough when you're the perfect woman. His endeavors in the street of silk stem from his own damaged soul, never yours.

"I am afraid," Aemond confesses, brushing one last tear with the pad of his thumb before he retreats his hands. You stare back at him, puzzled. "It is not what you believe. I have not laid with another woman since I married you."

"Then what is it, Aemond? Because my mind has conjured up the worst of scenarios."

"You will not think of me the same," he says, ashamed, hanging his head to avoid your hurt gaze.

"Is that such a bad thing?" You ask aloud, and without awaiting his response, you continue to speak, "Until you work up the courage to tell me the truth, things will remain the same. No matter how much it hurts."

Standing, you leave Aemond kneeling on the floor to prepare for sleep. You glance over your shoulder and watch Aemond stare deep into the fire. When you step out of the privacy screen, he's gone.

It takes another week of agony for Aemond to come to a decision. He cannot bear having you so close yet so far away. He misses you and greatly underestimates how much happier you make him.

He hasn't been to the brothel since the night you confronted him. He barely spares it a thought nowadays. You are the only person wreaking havoc in his head.

He fucked up his marriage, and now he has to pay his dues, even if it means coming clean about his intentions with Sylvi. It was barely sexual, he hasn't fucked her since he married you, but he couldn't let go of the comfort she provided, and Alicent withdrew.

He's smart enough to know it's a farce. The women in the brothel will do just about anything if it means they are paid. But Aemond deluded himself into believing Sylvi cared about what he had to say and told her things he hadn't spoken to anyone else. She played the part well, giving advice freely and reassuring him with soft touches and softer words.

When the guard opens the door to Aemond's chambers, allowing you to enter, he instantly stands, approaching you to ask for your hand and kiss the back of it.

You raise an eyebrow at him but allow him nonetheless. The press of his lips to your skin sends a spark up your arm and down your spine.

"Wife," he greets, guiding you to sit.

"Aemond," you reply, not quite giving in to his sweet actions. Aemond summoned you with the promise of the truth. That is why you're here.

"How does the day find you?"

"Aemond, please," you plead. You came for the truth, and niceties won't do anything to soften the brunt of his words. Prolonging this won't help anyone.

"Very well," Aemond sighs, gesturing you to sit. His hands remain on his lap where he opens and closes them anxiously. "I met her when I was three and ten. Aegon forced me to the brothel because he thought it was time I…became a man."

You dare not speak as Aemond justifies his actions. You need to know the truth before your nerves consume you.

This is the tricky part of his story. After a brief pause, he clears his throat and continues, "She was far older than I was and offered something I lacked in the Keep. Comfort, solace, familiarity, whatever you want to call it. I continued to visit her throughout my youth, although it wasn't always to find release rather than someone to listen and give me what my mother never could."

Aemond avoids looking at you, afraid of what he might find written on your face. Perhaps disgust, shame, or disapproval.

He owed you the truth, so he spoke about all the details of this affair. How he liked the intimacy of lying naked with Sylvi, suckling at her breast. How she would hold him in her arms and touch him. The advice she would offer. The things they spoke about. How he rejects her when she makes any advances, thinking that's what he wants. He admits that he is completely vulnerable and free for those hours because she will have his side no matter what he says.

"Do you have feelings for her?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. It's terrifying to think he might harbor feelings for her. Such intimate acts easily allow feelings to infiltrate one's being. "Aemond, look at me."

Hesitantly, Aemond meets your eyes. Your face is blank, devoid of emotion that may indicate what you now think of him.

"No, and I never will," Aemond says, swallowing the lump in his throat. He chooses his words carefully, "She was an escape, someone to listen to the tragedy that was my life. She knew what I wanted and gave it unsolicited. I know it is not real, wife, but I was foolish enough to seek more."

The emotion that surfaces in your face is not directed at him; instead, it reflects the insecurities you have about yourself. "Did you not think I could give you what she did and actually mean it?"

Insecurities of his own rise up and make themselves shown, "I thought you would see me as a weaker man."

You're both so young with so much to learn, yet if there is one thing you're certain about, it's the love you share. That love would never make you see Aemond as weak; it would transform that quality he refers to as weak into something totally different and positive.

"You are not weak but a fool," you shake your head, reaching for him. It is your turn to cup his face to force him to focus only on you. "I know of those feelings you hide firmly, Aemond. I spent most of my childhood here in King's Landing. I watched while Aegon and the Strong boys teased you. I was here when you returned from Driftmark without an eye. I heard your cries of pain. You come off as this stoic man to everyone else, the fierce Aemond, but I know the real you."

"I am ashamed." Aemond is truthful. No more lies weight his beating heart.

"Do you swear to never look for her again? That you will come to me instead?"

"I swear it by the old gods and the new. I swear it by the seven. I swear it by my life," Aemond promises. "Will you return to me, wife?" He asks hopefully, placing his hands over yours, afraid your touch will leave him.

"Yes, husband," you nod, pressing your forehead against his.

Your lips find his as the last word you speak is uttered. It's been far too long, and his dragon blood is calling for you. Aemond is quick to react, moving his lips desperately against yours and pulling you to his lap.

He comes to you late at night once there are no more council calls or responsibilities to tend to. It's around that time when he has nothing to busy himself with, and the ache in his chest makes itself known.

It's a constant reminder that he is far from invincible. Pain and hurt live within him, ready to resurface at the most unexpected times.

"Husband." You greet him with a bright smile when he steps into your chambers.

"Wife," he speaks quietly, standing uncomfortably by your door. While he's agreed to come to you in his times of need, Aemond is unsure how to approach the situation.

"What is the matter?" A pout adorns your lips as you walk over to him. It's genuine concern.

Aemond stiffens when you approach him, tilting your head to assess him. You wrap your arms around his waist, searching for his gaze.

"Aemond?" You call to him softly.

"Please," he whispers with shaking hands that he places on your hips. The expensive material of your night shift is soft against his palms.

The tone of his voice and the reserved behavior tell you what he's asking for. You nod wordlessly and grab his hand, guiding him to your bed.

This is unlike those moments when passion takes over and desperate need forces you to tug and tear his clothes away. With patience and delicate fingers, you calmly help him undress.

Unbuckling the clasps of his leather doublet, you slide it down his arms and throw it to the side. The tunic that covers his chest comes off next, exposing the strong panels of his abdomen and the ropes of muscle of his arms. All a result of his extensive training.

Featherlight touches to his skin make his breath hitch as they slide down to his breeches, where you agilely untie the laces. You don't meet his eyes as you do so, giving him some resemblance of modesty, but Aemond watches intently how you treat him with such care.

You gently push him to sit on the bed, where you kneel to take off his boots and socks. Aemond allows his breeches to fall to the ground, leaving him completely naked, except for the eyepatch he wears like armor.

It protects him from the disgusted expressions people shoot him with because of the deformity he acquired as a child.

It never stops hurting.

You've never been repulsed by his missing eye. On the contrary, you're fascinated by the scar and the sapphire embedded in the empty socket.

Reaching around his head, you unclasp the leather and place the eyepatch with the rest of his clothing. You offer him a delicate smile while placing your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it.

Your touch on his raised scar eases the pain.

Withdrawing from him, you tug in the lacing of your night shift and shrug it off your shoulders to uncover your body. You had promised to offer him the same care she did in that wretched place.

The bed is covered by pillows and blankets to protect you from the cold of the incoming winter, and you mentally thank the maids for preparing the fire before they left you to rest. You lie over the furs, extending your hand towards Aemond to welcome him in.

Aemond's timidness is present, but he pushes it to the side as he climbs onto the bed and settles across your lap. Your skin is soft and warm against his, and your soft curves, molded to accommodate his children, bring him comfort.

As you brush through his hair with your fingers, you gently untie the band holding half of his hair up. You massage the silver tresses, his scalp prickling from the release of tension. He hums quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair.

"What troubles you, my Prince?" You finally ask.

Aemond's head rests on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbones. One of your hands rests upon his back, drawing figures across the expanse of it, feeling every bump and curve of his spine and muscles. The other grasps his hand, pulling it to your lips to press a reassuring kiss to the palm of it.

"That title. Prince." He murmurs sadly, taking a deep breath.

That familiar scent of oils invades his senses. It's a smell he remembers from his childhood when Alicent still cared for him. In turn, his body relaxes, and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"It is a stepping stone in the hierarchy," you reply, recognizing what he implies. Aegon does not have what it takes to rule a kingdom, while Aemond years to sit on the throne.

Aemond reaches up to grasp at a strand of copper hair. The same shade as his mothers. He twists it around his finger while shifting to make himself more comfortable. "I thought all of my achievements would be more fruitful," he ponders.

It seems that ruling a kingdom falls on the eldest male heir, even if they are not fit to rule. Aegon sits on the throne, yet the rest of the council rules on his behalf. This puts the Targaryen name to shame; the fool barely speaks High Valyrian.

"Patience is key. Aegon shows no signs of changing. He will be his own downfall," you respond thoughtfully. You hate thinking about Aegon in such a way, but it's the truth. He wants to prove himself so badly but goes about it all the wrong way.

Copper hair leads to naked skin the same shade as his mother's, and for once, he can imagine himself in his mother's embrace. It brings tears to his eyes as he curls further into you, and his nose brushes against your skin.

With the pillows propping you up and Aemond curled on your lap, you press a kiss to the crown of his head. Your touch runs all over his skin, from his face to his feet.

Aemond continues to speak his mind, and you offer the perfect responses to his dilemmas, calming him when his emotions get the best of him and tears spill from his eyes.

He should've come to you sooner. You're a high-born lady who knows much more about life in court. There were always warning signs with Sylvi. She tried to manipulate him into thinking about the common folk and their ailments more than once. She would never understand that while House Targaryen is at war, there is no space to think about the well-being of its subordinates.

When silence ensues, Aemond allows himself to look up at you. You're serene as you hold him close to your body without an ounce of impatience. The resemblance to his mother is there, but he got something much better.

He got a woman who loves him unconditionally, flaws and all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Aemond closes his eyes and melts further into your touch. You hug him close and whisper your affections. This is how it was always meant to be.

That night, Aemond sleeps in your chambers. It would be wrong for him to leave after you've treated him with such tenderness. You are no simple whore from the street of silk. You are his wife, and as such, you are meant to be treated with utmost respect. Something he had failed to do but no more.

Breathy whines, wake him before the sun rises. Recognizing your voice, he wakes, looking at his surroundings for any danger. When you whine once more, he glances over at you.

You squirm in your sleep, seemingly uncomfortable. Something bothers you, but your exhaustion prevents you from waking. One of your hands reaches for your chest, and another whine spills from your lips.

Aemond's eye is drawn to the action. He reaches for the sheet covering your body and pulls on it to find the cause of your discomfort. His breath hitches, and his cock aches.

Your breasts are swollen and tender from being filled to their capacity, causing beads of milk to leak from the stiff peaks of your nipples.

Aemond briefly remembers you mentioning how Baelor has been fuzzy lately, and Rhaegar is getting older and doesn't seek you as often for food, yet you continue to produce copious amounts of milk. He has been blessed with a perfect wife and an excellent mother who produces enough sustenance for his children.

Aemond's pointer finger traces a path down your neck to your left breast. They are calling to him as his finger follows the curve of your breast up to your puffy areola and tip of your nipple. A slight press to the taught skin prompts more fluid to leak down your sides, and you hiss in discomfort.

Bringing his finger up to his lips, he licks the whitish liquid. Perhaps it's a mistake, as he's left wanting more. Aemond uncovers the top half of your naked body and leans over your chest. With one look towards your beautiful face, he wraps his lips around the plush flesh of your breast.A surge of liquid fills his mouth.

You have the sweetest milk he has ever had the pleasure of tasting. Aemond moans at the saccharine taste. It is so much better than the farce he had in the brothel. This milk comes from his wife, who nurtures his healthy sons.

A loud, sultry moan spills from your lips as some of the pressure is alleviated. You're now between sleep and awareness. Your hand cradling the back of Aemond's head.

Aemond's cock is painfully hard as it presses against your thigh. He's been driven into a frenzy, your milk serving as an aphrodisiac. His hand brushes against your inner thigh to answer a rising question.

Careful fingers find your wet slit, proving his theory right. He's not the only depraved person in the room. Your body is responsive to him even in altered states of consciousness.

Your cunt is absolutely drenched, making it so easy for Aemond to push a finger in. It's enough to fully wake you from your slumber. "Ah, Aemond." You throw your head back in pleasure.

It takes you a second to take in the entirety of Aemond's actions. The pleasure coursing through you, overwhelming your senses. A loud moan tears through your throat at the realization that Aemond is not simply teasing your breasts. Aemond feasts on your aching tits.

"Have your fill, my prince," you beg as that ache in your chest is pleasingly soothed.

Aemond is eager and rough. The light stubble of his jaw sends a current of electricity down to your cunt where you clench around his fingers.

"My Aemond, good boy." He responds to the praise why sliding another finger into your tight cunny. The slick sound of your arousal accompanies the suckling of his lips.

You squeeze your other breast to alleviate the tightening discomfort and drops fall on your hand. Drawn to it, Aemond switches, and you squeal as his teeth scrape the sensitive skin of your nipple.

Aemond ruts into your thigh as he quickens the pace of his fingers intruding on your cunny to part through your walls. The vibration of his quiet moans stimulates your swollen peaks.

If this is not heaven, he doesn't wish for it.

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair when you arch your back to offer yourself to him. His eye meets your hooded gaze and sets himself to give you whatever you please. His thumb circles your pearl expertly, and he curls his digits to hit your spot more firmly.

You cry in pleasure with your hips, riding his fingers until you come with a shudder and his name on your lips. Your walls clamp down on his fingers hard enough it is hard for him to retrieve them.

Aemond rises from your chest and pinches your cheeks with his fingers that remain coated with your slick, prompting your mouth to open. A stream of your milk falls from his mouth to yours as he gives you a sweet taste.

You believe another orgasm rips through your body as his lips press against yours to share a sweet tasting kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, allowing you the pleasure of tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Please," you beg for him, spreading your legs wantonly.

One to indulge his wife in all pleasures, Aemond pulls you on top of him, "Take what you desire."

His cock is fully erect and begging for attention. The tip is swollen and flushed a deep pink as it leaks pre that beads down his shaft.

Aemond acknowledges you've reached your limit when his beautiful wife, who adores worshipping his cock on her knees, grabs his length and sinks onto him without a preamble.

"Go on, my love, you can take it," Aemond hisses as you try to lower yourself to take all of him. His hands grip your hips tightly, urging you on. He swears your walls continue to contract from your previous peak.

"Aemond, husband," you moan lewdly. Your hips tentatively begin bouncing on him, and your tits follow to Aemond's delight.

He's mesmerized by them and how they continue to leak. Aemond mouths one more aggressively, teasing your nipple with his tongue, nipping at the surrounding flesh to leave his mark. His hand massages the other, allowing droplets to fall down your abdomen and onto your cunt.

"My perfect wife, such a good mother," Aemond mutters, praising you, "Pretty tits always full and her cunny always wet."

You hold onto Aemond's strong shoulders, your nails leaving marks across his back. Your hips grind on him deliciously as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

"Aemond, please," you beg, quickening your pace. You're on the verge of yet another delicious peak. "I want another." You'll have as many as he wants as long as he treats you with this much attention.

Aemond kisses up your neck and growls in your ear, "I shall give you as many as you'd like."

Swiftly, he turns you so your back is to the bed. He hikes your thighs up around his waist and snaps his hips fiercely. You first the bedsheets around you as Aemond holds bruisingly against your hips and thighs.

He's close to his own peak as well. Aemond manages to hold back because of all the attention he's giving your tits, but his cock cannot take anymore, especially with how deliciously your walls wrap around him.

Aemond admires his perfect wife. Your hair fans out on the pillows, and your facial expression morphs into one of pure ecstasy as you come once more. Your breasts are less swollen, but your stiff peaks remain puffy and flushed from his attention. Your cunt chokes his cock, knowing exactly what it takes to please him.

His rhythmic thrusting begins to falter, so with a couple more jerks of his hips and a groan, he paints your insides white. "There we go, all for you."

"Thank you," you lilt, biting your lip at the sensation of being filled.

You giggle when he leans down to kiss all over your face, a laugh of his own reaching your ears.

The door creaking open wakes you up, bringing the sheets to your chest, you sit up. Aemond lets the bedsheet fall to his lap, ready to scold whoever dares interrupt his time with his wife.

A small blonde head peaks in, and a big grin unleashes on its lips when he sees his parents. Young Rhaegar toddles into the room, and his head is barely seen as he stands on the edge of the bed. His tiny hands try to grasp the edge, but he's still too small to get himself up.

Aemond reaches over to bring him up, pressing a kiss on his head, but Rhaegar happily crawls over Aemond and falls into your waiting arms.

Aemond's exposed sapphire earns no reaction. In fact, the eyepatch tends to catch his son's attention more. Aemond ensured that when his sons came into this world, he would greet them as he truly is.

You pepper kisses all over Rhaegar's face, and he giggles, squirming on your lap. While Baelor favored his father, Rhaegar was entirely yours. "What are you doing here, little dragon?" You ask him sweetly.

The nursemaid stepping through the open door answers your question, "Prince Aemond, Lady Hightower. My apologies, he scurried away before I could-"

"It is alright. You may leave us," Aemond says, waving his hand to dismiss her. The young girl bows her head, hiding her blushing cheeks, and scurries away without saying another word, aware of the compromising position of the Prince and his wife.

"My sweetest, why are you up so early?" You coo, threading your fingers through his messy hair that sticks up in all directions.

Rhaegar hides his face on your chest, mumbling, "Missed you."

You gasp dramatically, facing the young boy with a surprised expression. "You missed me? I missed you!" Your son laughs and presses a wet kiss to your cheek.

"What about me, little dragon?" Aemond asks, tickling his belly.

Rhaegar cutely shakes his head with a mischievous smile, squealing loudly when Aemond reaches for him and takes him into his own arms to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar's childlike laugh pierces the air as he asks for your help.

"You're going to get me in trouble," Aemond grumbles, playfully glaring at his son as he continues to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar repeats, pushing Aemond's hands away and waiting for you to scold Aemond or something.

You watch the interaction with a wide smile. It's nice to see Aemond this calm. "Give me back, my little dragon, or there are no more kisses for you," you threaten Aemond with a furrow of your eyebrows and a pout. Aemond abruptly stops and loosens his hold on the toddler.

Rhaegar laughs and throws himself in your arms, hugging your neck. His giggles never cease. Aemond winks at you and pulls you to lie on his chest.

"How about we go see Vhagar later?" Aemond asks Rhaegar who calmed down to a drowsy state. It's still very early for him to have been up. He must've had a bad dream.

"Sunfyre?" Rhaegar gasps, looking up at his father. Aemond rolls his eyes and nods. He guesses he can invite Aegon so his son can see the golden dragon.

"That's your favorite, isn't it?" You ask him amusedly, although you agree. Sunfyre is a beautiful dragon and much friendlier than Vhagar.

Rhaegar nods enthusiastically as he babbles about the pretty dragon. You lay with your back to Aemond's chest as he envelops you both with his arms.

At that moment, Aemond realizes he feels fulfilled with his little family by his side.

it was not part of the plan to let this oneshot be this long. there is something about the complexity of aemond's character that doesn't let me write something brief.

nonetheless this was a super fun oneshot to write. it took me the whole week because i was so busy but i had been thinking about it nonstop. i think i overdid it with the lactation part but oh well!

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept aemond's sapphire, rhaenyra's crown, criston cole slander, emojis, words of encouragement, a lot of praise, virtual hugs and gushing about sunfyre and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

-nikki 🖤

[mpchev]

Dissertation on Fanfiction Bookbinding — Looking for participants! [EDIT: Thank you so much, participants found!!!]

[Edit continued: I'm still sorting through emails and setting up meetings, will reply to everyone very soon, I can't even begin to thank everyone enough for the visibility that's been given to this 💜 I'll keep the updates coming as I work on the dissertation (and learn how to bookbind), in case anyone would like to follow along. For any questions about the research or comments/suggestions/resources about ficbinding, my asks are wide open. Thank you thank you thank you!!!]

Hi! My name is Marie Chevrier, I’m currently doing my postgraduate dissertation on fanfiction bookbinding, and I’m looking for people to talk to about it!

If you’ve ever taken a fanfic from somewhere online and turned it into a physical copy, either for yourself or as a gift, I’d love to know more. From printer paper stapled together to typesetting and painted edges, nothing is too simple or too complex — I’m interested in the whole process, what motivates readers or authors to bring the story to a different format, and how it’s one more way to interact with stories actively and creatively. This will be the final project of my MLitt in Folklore and Ethnology with the Elphinstone Institute (University of Aberdeen, Scotland).

What to Expect

To participate, you must be 18 or older and speak English. I’ll give you more details and answer any questions you might have via email, and will then set up individual video calls with participants (if you happen to be in North-East Scotland, we could also meet at an agreed public location). I’ll tell you more about the dissertation and explain how what you share will be used, which depends entirely on what you agree to, including if you would prefer your contribution to be credited or anonymised. I will ask you about your experience with fanfiction bookbinding and if you have some examples to show me, I would love to see them! Meetings will last approximately 45–90 minutes and take place in June 2024. You have the right to withdraw your participation at any time.

Contact Information

If you’d like to participate or have any questions, please send me an email at m.chevrier.23@abdn.ac.uk

To know more about the Elphinstone Institute, please visit https://www.abdn.ac.uk/elphinstone/

To know more about me, here's an intro post for you.

If for any reason you don’t wish to participate but still have comments/suggestions/resources/musings you’d like to send my way, please do!

[simpforfandoms]

If possible, would you be willing to write Remy LeBeau x reader on their first date. Please and thank you

💜

I tried really hard to write a first date but I just can’t so this is as close as it gets

You don’t know how you got here, one second you’re chaperoning a prom and the next Remy is asking if you want to get out of there. And maybe it was the spiked punch (did they really think you wouldn’t notice?) or the fact that you had the slightest bit of a crush (god you sound like a highschooler) on the red eyed mutant that made you say yes. So that’s how you end you’re taking a stroll with Remy throughout the courtyard looking for any teenage mutants doing scandalous things and talking about pointless things

“In France is french kissing just kissing? Or french fires just fries?” You ask

Remy gives you a look, “I’m not French”

“But you know French?”

“Yes but I’m Cajun not French”

“Okay but you can still answer the question.”

“probably just called fries.”

“I thought so.” You shrug, you pause before adding, “not that you have to answer but, what happened between you and Rogue.”

You have been curious. You had heard rumors that they had gotten a divorce so in your eyes his response could be “I don’t know what your talking about” or just confirm that they had divorced. Nevertheless you convince yourself that they’re still together, as not to get you’re hopes up.

He shrugs, “we wanted different things”

You stay silent even though you know you should probably comfort him. Thoughts running through your head a hundred miles per hour. Wait so if him and rogue weren’t together does that mean that this wasn’t just a friendly stroll, could it be like a date? No. Remy could never see you romantically. You hardly know the guy besides secret glances and friendly conversations. Plus Anna Marie is so cool. After being with her he would never go for you. He’s an x-men, you’re just a teacher that teaches at the academy. Nothing special. Not like you save lives or anything. Unless you count evacuating the school as it blows up for the hundredth time.

He eventually notices your long standing silence and asks you a question, one that you didn’t hear but mumbled a ‘yes’ in response.

“do you wanna go somewhere to eat?” He asks

That brings you out of your daze, and you shoot him. A questionable look, “what? We still have to chaperone”

He rolls his eyes, “I never signed up to chaperone”

“What? Then what are you doing here?”

He lets out an oh so attractive chuckle, “isn’t it obvious darlin? I wanted to be with you.”

What. Why would Remy Lebeu of all people want to be with you. As previously discussed, he was an x men and you were, well you.

“So you went to a boring school dance just to be with me?” You almost laugh at the absurdity.

“it’s almost summer, you’ll leave soon and I won’t see you”

“And that’s a problem how”

“God do you play dumb.” He chuckles, “cause I’ll miss you.”

You? He’ll miss you?!?! You?!?!

As if he can sense your questions he answers, “I’ll miss over hearing your lectures every morning, and you always saying goodnight to everyone in the building including me, and how you remember my coffee order after I told you one time-“

“That’s because it’s just black.”

“My point is, I’ll miss you”

“I’ll be back in 3 months” you say

“To long to go without seeing you”

You laugh, “fine I can go for a burger”

…

“This is the best burger I’ve had in my whole life,” you state before taking another bite

“I’ve had better”

“Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes

You look at the time, “oh shit we have to get back before Charles realizes we’re gone.”

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry darlin.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

.

After some delicious burgers Remy walks you back to your dorm or living quarters.

“Sooo…” you pause, “I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“goodnight Remy” You go to turn around but he grabs your arm before you can. And gives you a goodnight kiss. Was it everything you imagined? Maybe.

…

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Top 5 fave Dick, Mary, and John Grayson family moments?

Funnily enough there’s so many moments I can think off yet ironically so little moments overall involving those three that don’t involve Mary and John doing that fateful performance at Gotham canonically lol

Here’s some Flying Grayson 1.0 moments that stand out for me the most

5.

While this moment will most definitely not save Taylor’s writing at all, it’s still a nice one (Nightwing Vol 4, #83)

4.

That’s actually sound advice Mary, boosting your son’s confidence while tampering with the fact he can be too ambitions for his own good

(Batman Vol 1 #339)

3.

To think this one photo op will set both Dick and Tim(my)’s going forward in a path that makes them both heroes for the innocents of Gotham to be inspired by yet also names the criminal underground fears…all because Janet wants to make sure her baby boy had a fun day at the Circus

(Batman Vol 1 #436; Year Three Part 1)

2.

Really nothing else to say much here though I guess Dick might be either at a tender younger age or Mary just likes saying that to him cause that’s how Moms are like. Even over a great height, she can’t help but baby him a bit despite probably no doubt Dick going in his head, “Not a Baby, Mom”

(Nightwing Vol 2 #7)

1.

Really these guys’ entire dynamic summarized in a nutshell. Mary can only lose count of the many times when her husband and little boy taken all sorts of risks, whether on or off the ropes, and she can count pretty high. But damn it all, she love her two favorites no matter what.

Plus even this is further evidence of Dick being just a baby faced menace of a kid; good heart and soul yet he laughs and beams in the face of danger. He welcomes it if anything

(Secret Origins Vol 2 #13)

Quickie Honorable Mentions:

All these wonderful moments from the elseworld story The Lost Carnival: A Dick Grayson Novel

Thanks for the ask @spider-jaysart It’s appreciated 💙💜💙

Tagging: @celaenaeiln @meara-eldestofthemall @camo-wolf @northoftheroad @sbd-laytall

[peaxhxhair]

Hi!! I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if you could write a Corinthian x gender neutral!reader, inspired by that “your beauty never ever scared me” part from Mary on a Cross. Maybe when Corithian finally shows reader his eyes? Or he’s just feeling insecure about what reader’s gonna think of him.

A/n: AHHHH Thank you for requesting this!! It's been so long since I've written for Corinthian so this could be a little shaky but THANK YOU 💜

-

Pairing: Corinthian x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Teeth for eyes??? Mentions of murder, death, etc. Corinthian should probably have his own warning 👍

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The Sandman - MASTER LIST

Kofi <3

“Why is there never anything on…” You complain as you flick through the channels on your TV. It was a quiet day at home for you - finally getting a day off of work after so long.

Your day has been quiet. Too quiet actually. There was rarely a moment like this in your apartment, since your boyfriend was usually crashing around - making loads of noise. Though, he was out doing something - leaving you alone all day.

Just as you begin to question his whereabouts, he storms through the front door, disappearing into another room. It was rare that he ever avoided you when he came home, so you knew that something must have happened.

“Cori, are you alright?” You call, discarding the remote onto the couch as you stand up. You could hear him grumbling from the bathroom, his voice echoing off of the walls.

The door is locked, so you knock. “You okay?” He doesn’t answer, but you can hear him picking up what sounds like glass. Did he break something? It wasn’t the first time either of you had broken the bathroom mirror. “You’re not hurt are you?” You ask again.

This time, he actually responds. “Broke my glasses” he says, his voice slightly quieter than normal - less confident. Your shoulders relax, glad that he hadn't injured himself somehow.

“We can get you another pair” You say, although slightly confused as to why that was a big deal. You knew he had multiple pairs of those round blackout glasses. He keeps them on his nightstand.

You were aware of his reluctance to take them off around you - or around anyone really. He had never shown his eyes to you. Not that you care, you’re just confused by how he sleeps with glasses on.

“Right…” He mutters, and you can imagine how he’s stood - hands on either side of the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. “Do you think I’m ugly?” He asks - hesitant. His words were confusing to you. Not once since you had met him had he ever seen himself as ugly - his looks were definitely something he was most confident about.

“Why would I think that, baby?” You ask, and the door clicks as he unlocks it. You felt that was a sign that you were being let in, so you pushed open the door.

His face was the first thing you saw when the door opened - reflected through the mirror. His eyes were…well they weren’t eyes at all, but teeth. Although it was a little creaky at first, you weren’t scared. No, you could never be scared of him. He just looked so nervous about showing you, and what you would say.

“You think so now?” He whispers, turning his face away so that you couldn’t see it at all.

“Babe, you could have no skin and I’d still think you’re beautiful” The words come out in a breathless chuckle - actually surprised you’d have to reassure him like this. You take his face into your hands, making him look at you. He seems unsure of your words, like he didn't believe you.

“You’re not scared of me now?” You’ve never heard him sound so reluctant - like everything would fall apart in his hands if he said the wrong thing.

“Never. You’re beautiful, and You’re never gonna scare me. You hear me?” You say, grinning at him as a smile grows on his face. He leans over to kiss you, and you’re quick to kiss him back - grateful that he shared every part of him with you.

[mirai-e-jump]

ViVi Magazine, February 2024 Issue Murakami Erica x Hirakawa Yuzuki Interviews (translation below)

Publication: December 22, 2023

Erica and Yuzuyan's rambling talk

The close combination of Hirakawa-chan, known as Yuzuyan, and Erica appear for the first time in ViVi. During this photoshoot, we could feel the close friendship between them, as they giggled and talked the whole time. We asked alot about these two, who are a hot topic right now.

-Our youth is now! Anyway…I'm so glad we met~!-

"What do you call each other?"

Erica: Everyone calls her Yuzuyan.

Yuzuki: I've never had a nickname before, but I got one for the first time on set (laughs). I call her Marie.

Erica: I think everyone at ViVi was surprised to call me by that name. Actually, my real middle name is Marie, and everyone on set of the show calls me Marie. I'm so happy about my secret name~

"What is it like on set?"

Yuzuki: We chat alot while waiting to film. There's the 6 of us filming together, and when we've all gathered, it's like break time at school (laughs). It's so loud and noisy!

Erica: Someone will get into things, someone else will join in and do something stupid, and so on and so forth (laughs). Every day is jam packed with inside jokes. It's silly, but the 6 of us spending time together is so much fun~.

Yuzuki: We've been filming together almost every day for 10 months, so our friendship levels are amazing. From the very beginning, when we first started filming, we were all in perfect sync and got along well. But, when the cameras start rolling, everyone gets serious. It's amazing how everyone's faces change so quickly!

"What kind of personalities do you two have?"

Yuzuki: Marie is, in a single word, a bomb (laughs). Marie's explosive power when she's tired is insane (laughs). She'll suddenly explode and become cheerful. And, we all get caught up in it and get excited too (laughs).

Erica: We spend so much time on the set, that if we don't talk, I get sleepy, so I feel at ease exploding because everyone will pick up the pieces (laughs).

Yuzuki: She does things that go way beyond what you'd expect, so I never get tired of watching her. I'm like, "Even though you're so cute, why would you do something like this?" She's constantly one upping how interesting she can be (laughs). I can't tell if she's trying to be funny or if it's all natural.

Erica: Thanks for letting me do it, and for being on the receiving end (laughs). Yuzuyan is everyone's "straight man" older sister, but she can also be everyone's little sister.

Yuzuki: I'm often described as being a 5th grade boy~. We're the "mess around" combo.

"What does your existence mean to each other?"

Erica: After becoming an adult, I never thought I'd meet someone who I could mess around with so much, even more so through work!

Yuzuki: I'm so glad that someone like her exists, where we can joke around and laugh like this as friends 💜.

"What were your first impressions and current impressions?"

Yuzuki: I knew of Marie's modeling from reading ViVi, and I thought she was just so~ cute and looked like a doll. But, the more I learned about her, the more I thought she was like a bomb (laughs).

Erica: My first impression of Yuzuyan was that she was a very refreshing person. But in reality, she talks alot and is hyperactive (laughs). She notices things that other people don't see and takes the initiative to follow up, and is very considerate. From the very beginning, I felt like she was a dependable older sister. She's also good at remembering directions (laughs).

"How was today's shoot? How do you like Erica as a ViVi model?"

Yuzuki: When I look through ViVi, Marie is so cool…..she doesn't always look like this! It makes me want to get involved (laughs). She wears cool clothes and her expressions are amazing! It's so cool!!

Erica: This was the first time for the two of us to do a photoshoot together for a fashion magazine. I was happy to be able to work as a model like I usually do. We were able to shoot as our usual natural selves, which was alot of fun and very fresh. I thought it would be so much fun to shoot with someone who understands me.

Yuzuki: For today's shoot, she led me around alot, and I was impressed by the fact that she was such a great ViVi model!

"Do you see any similarities between yourself and the role you play in Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger?"

Erica: I think we share the same caring nature. However, I myself am not strong willed, so I admire her for that.

Yuzuki: I think we're similar in that we have humanity. We're both basically no nonsense, and we have our "on and off" switch. However, while my role is to be immovable, I'm actually extremely hyperactive, which is the complete opposite.

[disasterbuck]

I will be sending multiple because that list is LONG and I have the memory of a... I can't think of anything funny. I have a shitty memory

FIRST UP:

👁👁👁👀👀👀🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲

hehe I love you 💜

👁👁👁 - Buck Naked

Thankful for his earlier wisdom in ensuring the rest of the team had already left before he cornered Buck in the showers, Eddie just shook his head as their laughter echoed all throughout the tiled room. Sliding his hands up into Buck's hair, he ran his fingers through the wet strands and wondered if it was possible for his chest to burst from happiness.

"Eddie?" Buck said, finally picking his head back up as his giggles faded. "Do you have any idea how unhinged you are, sometimes?"

"Excuse me?" Eddie arched an eyebrow indignantly.

"Come on," Buck said with a snigger. "You just confessed your love to me while I was naked!"

"And that makes me unhinged?" Eddie asked.

"A little."

"I'll show you unhinged."

👀👀👀 - Chris Watches

uhgdjhgskfj I'm thinking of scrapping this wip entirely tbh. it's not working for me 😭

"Because you're together," Chris said.

"No," his dad said, sounding slightly pained. He turned his head so he could look at Buck as he continued, "because... we want to be. Together."

Buck was smiling back at him warmly and gave a small but firm nod of confirmation; a nervous smile appeared on Eddie's lips as well.

"Wait," Chris said, frowning as he looked from one to the other. The truth of the situation was finally beginning to click into place. "So you haven't been hiding it from me? You've just been…" He trailed off, unsure how to define it.

fjskfjkesf nvm it is working now, I got a bit dramatic hahaha

🩲🩲🩲🩲🩲 - Boxer Briefs

"Eddie?" he called out. "Where are you?"

A crash sounded from the kitchen and Buck quickly set off, finding Eddie picking up an empty cupcake tray which he must have dropped on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie asked, unable to meet Buck's eyes as he set the tray back on the bench beside a mixing bowl full of cupcake batter. His hands shook slightly as he reached for a packet of cupcake liners and began filling the tray with them.

"I'm really sorry about before," Buck said, leaning against the bench but making sure there was space between them so that hopefully Eddie wouldn't feel crowded. "And for not checking on you sooner. I should've texted or called or something, at least. I'm sorry."

Placing the last few liners in the tray, Eddie then paused. He still didn't look at Buck, but at least seemed to be considering his words.

"Are you… okay?" Buck asked cautiously.

With a deep inhale, Eddie moved into action again, picking up the mixing bowl as he said, "Of course I am." He began carefully measuring the cupcake mixture into the tray, his hands steady again now that he had an exacting task to focus on.

-

also using this as my Several Sentence Sunday

and tagging:

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@i-am-married-to-my-fandom @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans @sunflower-eddiediaz

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

@smilingbuckley @realpersonwithrealfeelings @superlock-in-the-tardis @mjthe14thdoctor @strxwbereee

@idontknowwhatimdoing777 @ashleigh2658 @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @mineyneedsmoney @faithhopeandmisery

@spotsandsocks @unlifeira @tofanasmuse @pirrusstuff @buddiedaydreamer911

@littlevampireprincessuniverse @misshiss727 @i-put-the-star-in-bastard @hermioneindisguise @dangerpronebuddie

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

[ninadove]

top 5 miraculous ships?

This one is also surprisingly hard, because Miraculous is the shipping show by excellence, and they’re all pretty compelling! That being said —

1. Feligami

Hopefully there’s no doubt about it by now. They single-handedly kicked me out of a months-long writer’s block, and ever since I’ve written paragraph over paragraph about them... with no intention to stop! 💜❤️

2. Lukadrien

With how much I talk about the Sentikids, you’d almost forget Luka was my favourite character back in season 3! Every time I write him, he and Adrien go heart-eyes over each other. It’s almost against my will at this point.

There’s so many interesting things to explore about them, from the angstiest to the sweetest. Luka feeling left out in Wishmaker only to bask in love in Migration. Adrien opening up about his Aspik trauma to someone who can understand. Luka being, to this day, the only person who figured out Chat’s identity. Two very pretty boys who are unlucky in love and terrible at getting what they want... Has anyone ever written Luka x Cat Walker? Lukatwalker? I think someone should write Lukatwalker. Don’t look at me, I have too many WIPs already!

3. Lukadrinette & Adrino

See, that’s where rankings get complicated, because where the Hell do I put Lukadrinette hmm? Hmmmmm? I love the three of them together more than I love Adrinette and Lukanette individually, but less than Lukadrien on its own. It’s a question of balance, I think.

And at the same time, Adrino. There’s just something so comforting about them. The warmth of it all! The dorky flirting in Rocketear! Nino being willing and ready to throw hands with Gabriel since the early episodes of season 1! I love Lukadrien, I love Lukadrinette, but there are universes in which my brain won’t accept any endgame other than Adrino. The Reverse is one of them — all it took was that one conversation between Adrien and Claw and BOOM!!!!! Clawdrino!!! They’re kissing as we speak. I follow the brainworms where they take me.

“But Nina!” I hear you ask, “why not get the best of both words by writing Lukadrino?” to which I reply that you are so right. I’m very curious to see where that might lead us. Unfortunately I am, as previously established, battling an army of WIPs, so the exploration will have to wait.

4. Ladynoir

For the Strikeback of it all. And the London special of it all, too! Marichat was my favourite side of the Love Square for a very long time, but recently I’ve had a craving for…

5. Adribugnoire. Or whatever it’s called.

I’m a hurt/comfort enthusiast, so this surprises absolutely no one. It’s perfect to explore Mari’s crushing responsibilities and her relationships to the people in the know (Kagami Felix Kagami Felix Nathalie Kagami Felix Plagg Bunnyx Kagami FELIX FELIX FELIX). It’s perfect to explore the Sentilore, which you know is my brand. It’s perfect because if I’m going to put a character through the angst machine, you better believe it’s going to be Adrien. It’s perfect because have you seen Bug Noire??? She’s so pretty!!! The London special spoiled me so much!!!

Special mentions:

Julerose and Marcaniel are very cute, of course. DJWiFi I think works best as a QPR, but I might be biased because Kittybella!!! I love Kittybella. Zoenette is also cute. I love Alyanette and especially Loveyalya, the pining is simply excellent. Speaking of the Loveybug AU, Loveyblanc… All these dynamics are so fun to play with, but I rarely get around to it because the Sentikids take up so much of my writing time. As they should! 💚💜❤️

And then there’s the box of ships I don’t want to be canon/endgame, but which I think bring something extremely interesting to the story. Feligami would not be as compelling as it is if it weren’t for Adrigaminette. The plot would not exist at all without Gabeminath. Cholila has so much narrative potential. I’m not rooting for them, but I enjoy what they bring to the table!

Thanks for the ask! 💜❤️

[sp3cialgirl]

⋆˚࿔ about me𝜗𝜚˚⋆

꩜ Alice ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꩜ 14 ꩜ she/her ꩜ taurus

꩜ girlblogger ꩜ entp ꩜self tag: 🪩

꩜ dm’s and asks are always open

꩜ my main blog

𐙚 faves 𐙚 music, tv, movies, posters, pinterest, headphones, my family, being by myself, shopping, bedrotting, junk food, converse, my childhood teddies, sports, art, drawing, sleeping, candy, gossiping with my friends

𐙚 artists 𐙚 arctic monkeys, lana del rey, hole, fiona apple, the smashing pumpkins, the smiths, pretty sick, blur, the last shadow puppets, david bowie, nirvana, radiohead, crystal castles, the strokes, deftones, oasis, the beatles

𐙚 shows & movies 𐙚 skins uk, gossip girl, freaks and geeks, the virgin suicides, the breakfast club, palo alto, submarine, lisa frankenstein , 500 days of summer, black swan, juno, marie antoinette, brokeback mountain, mysterious skin, almost famous, but i’m a cheerleader, empire records, i know what you did last summer, priscilla, alice in wonderland (1951)

if you have any music/show/movie recs lmk because i’m always open to new stuff like that

thank you for taking your time to get to know me, it means a lot. stay on the lookout for edits to this post because my favourite thing are ever changing.

bye for now 💜

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello! (And sorry in advance for the longread). First of all, thank you for all your hard work maintaining the most ultimate fanfic collection I've ever come across and guiding all the poor lost souls like myself towards their perfect fic solution! Life's pretty hard for me rn and through your lists and recommendations I've found exactly the works that help me keep pushing. And here comes the Second: I have two requests if I may? One is for helping find two works that I've read already but lost them and cannot find them for my life (probably just skipping them somehow, I can miss things right under my nose); first is I'm almost but not 100% sure about Sherlock dealing with withdrawal and John helping him, the one detail that I remember vividly is Sherlock telling John how Lestrade saved him from an od by unexpectedly showing up when Sherlock wanted to take his life 10 days after his verbally abusive father's funeral and that's also how he and Donovan met as Greg brought her with him. The second work is about sick feverish Sherlock and John calling Lestrade to help get Sherlock in the shower so he doesn't have to go to the hospital unless it doesn't help, Sherlock also unknowingly throwing punches when feverish, one landing on John's face, and he apologized afterwards.

And the second request is maybe you know some works that feature John asking Sherlock to dance and them subsequently dancing together, publicly if possible? Not an AU (I mean as a different universe like balletlock or fantasylock or sth, canon deviations are okay, even better if it's 'Mary's a villain') and not a sad ending if possible too. It just broke my heart that Sherlock loves dancing so much and John was apparently very reluctant and ashamed of them training before the wedding, so Sherlock had to help hide that, my poor baby. Would be ideal if it was specifically John wanting to make that right but I'll gorge up on anything except for AUs and sad endings.

Sorry if I'm asking for too much and/or if this whole word sheet is difficult to read since I'm not a native speaker. I hope that for as long as you still feel up to this and have love for the fandom you'll grace us with your presence and effort, it is greatly appreciated! Best wishes and thank you again!

Hi Nonny!!!

First of all, Thank you so much for your kind words!! I am humbled that you think of my blog as an "ultimate collection of fics" hahah. That's SO sweet and makes my tummy all squidgy!! I love when y'all find comfort in my happy place! :)

I'm so sorry you're going through a rough patch right now, but I'm glad that my blog makes the days easier for you 💜🖤

And you can have as many requests as you like!! This blog relies on them!!!! I'll try my best to help you find them!!

Sadly, I don't know what fics either of the two you are searching for are (the OD / withdrawal nor the shower fic) but my Lovelies and Lurkers™ have an uncanny ability to find fics that I don't know, so hopefully they'll come through for us for either of those.

As for the Second Request, best I can do IMMEDIATELY are these lists:

Dancing (updated March 14/23)

Sexy Dancing

Evil / Not-Nice / Villain Mary

Not EXACTLY what you're looking for, but I hope that these will be a good start!!

If anyone wants to offer ANY fic for ANY of the requests for Nonny, please let us know!! I check the notes on all posts and add them to the lists! 💜🖤

Hope you're having a great day Nonny, and lots of HUGS!!!

[library-ghoulette]

day 10 // hands

Prompt list thanks to @kroas-adtam 💜

Pairing: Mary Goore x reader

Rating: Explicit, minors DNI

Words: 1144

Tags: second person POV, female reader, they/them Mary Goore, established relationship, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, teasing, finger sucking

Summary: You take Mary back out to the van after their set, where they demonstrate that their hands are skilled at more than just playing guitar.

A/N: I dedicate this fic to everyone who's ever searched "Mary Goore hands" on Pinterest. I don't even know if it's all that kinky. But I do know that there was barely any blood in my brain the entire time I was writing it.

Read beneath the cut or on ao3!

Maybe it's not the most romantic place for a hookup—the back of the shitty old van that always smells faintly of cigarettes and sweat and the greasy ghosts of late-night fries—but fuck, you think, as Mary grazes their teeth down the side of your neck, you'll take it.

Getting through the set had been torture. You'd stood in the audience, nursing a cheap beer and chatting with friends and playing the role of a good, supportive girlfriend while Mary took the stage. There was just something about seeing them like that—fronting the band with an easy command, growling into the mic, snarling beneath the skull paint and fake blood and tumble of messy black hair—that always wound you up to the point that it was unbearable.

You had known it would be a late night, that you wouldn't get back to your apartment until god knew when. You knew you couldn't wait that long. So when the rest of the band had been distracted, you'd leaned into your sweaty, post-show hug from Mary, craning your head up to whisper in their ear, "Can we go outside for a minute?"

It could have meant almost anything. That you needed air, maybe, or a quick smoke. But the eager gleam in your eyes told Mary all they needed to know, and they had taken you by the hand and led you out over the gravel lot behind the club and to the van.

Now you're stretched out on the back floor of the van, writhing beneath Mary as they take their time lavishing attention on you. You're even more keyed up than you were before, grinding against their thigh in search of any bit of friction you can get.

Mary pulls back from kissing along your collarbone, and you let out an impatient little groan.

"What's gotten into you tonight, babe?"

You resist the urge to say not nearly enough. Not yet.

"I need you to touch me," you say, not even caring about the pleading note that creeps into the words.

"Touch you?" The corner of Mary's mouth twists up in a teasing, lopsided grin. They run one fingertip up your forearm. "Here?" they ask.

"No…"

"Oh, okay. How about—here?" They graze along your side, the touch light enough to tickle.

Ugh, why are they like this?

"Noo," you whine, which only makes them bite their lip in amusement.

"Hmm, where else? What about here?"

And now they bring their hand up to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your T-shirt.

"That's… that's better," you breathe, arching into the contact as they knead gently. Already your nipple is hardening, every motion of their hand rubbing the lace of your bra against the tender flesh.

It's better, but it's not enough, not what you need. You're on the verge of just grabbing their wrist and shoving their hand between your legs when they start to trail their hand down lower, over your belly, lower still—

They skip down to your knee. Then up the outside of your thigh, bare where your short skirt has ridden up. Closer and closer, but still moving so agonizingly, infuriatingly slowly.

Finally their hand rounds the curve of your inner thigh, their thumb just barely grazing the soaked gusset of your panties, and you let out a frustrated little growl.

"Mary, I swear to God, if you don't—"

"Okay, okay, jeez."

They kiss you, sweetly, and slide their hand down your underwear. Their middle finger traces along your slit, testing your wetness. You gasp at the sensation as your hips buck. You spread your legs, eager for more, and catch the satisfied gleam in Mary's green eyes as they watch your reaction.

"Is this what you were wanting?" they ask, their fingertip playing across your entrance, just barely pushing inside.

"Mhmm," you moan, voice high and thready with need. Mary rewards you by pressing their finger slowly into your pussy, withdrawing, pressing in again, deeper.

You reach down and hook your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down off of your hips and wriggling them as low as you can without moving too much, not wanting to interrupt Mary's rhythm. You feel like you'll die if they withdraw their hand, if they stop for even a second. They laugh and help you with their free hand, shifting their position so that they're kneeling between your splayed legs.

"You like my hands that much?" they ask, gently mocking, as they continue to finger you. As they pull out and then thrust back in with two fingers, and you nod wordlessly, biting your lip against the moan building in your throat.

"Did it get you all hot and bothered watching me play guitar? Thinking about me doing this?"

Their movements are faster now, and you're so wet that you can hear each thrust of their fingers driving into you. Mary leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss before whispering, "Think you can take another one?"

Their words send a fresh jolt of desire coursing through you, your pussy clenching around their fingers at just the thought.

"Y-yes," you answer, voice shaky, "please…"

Mary straightens back up, watching as they ease a third finger inside of you. You cry out at the exquisite fullness, unable to hold back when they crook their fingers to find the spot that makes you fall apart. When they press their thumb to your clit, tracing circles over your swollen nub.

"That's a good girl," Mary praises you.

They bring their free hand up to your face, fondly cupping your cheek as their other hand fucks you, driving you closer and closer to release. They trace their thumb over your lower lip, and your mouth falls open instinctively to take it in, to let them trace the warm contours of your mouth.

You hear them whisper a disbelieving fuck at how wanton and undone you are, their composure slipping, breath turning ragged with arousal. They pull their thumb from your mouth, smearing spit over your face, and press in again with middle and index. You moan around the intrusion. Eyes slipping shut, mind gone blank with pleasure, sucking their fingers to match the rhythm of their hand down below until, finally, your orgasm rips through you and you're helpless to do anything but ride it out, wave after wave.

Mary sees you through it, waiting until you've come down before gently withdrawing their hands and shaking out their wrist. You smile up at them tenderly, all afterglow and affection. Your voice is dreamy when you thank them.

"We can go back to the bar if you want," you say. "Don't want to miss the afterparty…"

"Are you fucking kidding?" Mary snorts. They're already fumbling with their belt buckle, undoing their fly. "I'm not done with you yet."

[da-rulah]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💜

Ahhhh Jen thank you for thinking of me 😭 Oh god, what do I choose?! Okay I'm gonna go in order of my top 5 personal favourites based on their storylines and how fun they were to write, so here goes...

Confessional ~ Copia x F Reader [3 Parts]

As a sister of sin, it was your duty to confess at least once a month, to have your sins praised by a higher up member of the clergy. But you only ever chose Thursday nights, when you knew he was on duty. And tonight, you were working up the courage to confess your darkest sin - the dreams you had been having...

Rituale Septem ~ Terzo x F Reader [8 Parts]

Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You'd never even heard the Dark One's voice like your Siblings... But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work...

The Mayor's Daughter ~ Mary Goore x F Reader [5 Parts, Ongoing]

Mary knew the entire town hated him; the metalhead with the freaky make up and fake blood dripping down his face. He was the local menace, the town vandal, the cliché trouble maker. He played up to that image, enjoyed the havoc and the chaos, revelled in it. He loved pissing people off. And so, what better revenge to get on his beloved town, than to fuck around with the Mayor's daughter…

In Cold Blood ~ Terzo x F Reader [One shot]

Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with. After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home. Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary?

Come Home to Me ~ Secondo x F Reader [One shot]

No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with... 

It was so hard to choose my favourites, everything I write is so special to me but these one just have the edge...

If you'd like to see what else I've written, I have a masterlist here! 💕

[wolfsbanesparks]

Do you have any holiday or Christmas headcanons for Captain Marvel?

Thanks so much for the ask anon!

I headcanon that Billy/Cap doesn't do much to celebrate the holiday season (at least at the beginning) because it's a reminder that he doesn't have a family to spend it with. But as they get more friends and family to spend it with, they get more into it. I headcanon that Mary and the Bromfields love Christmas so much, throwing huge elaborate parties and going all out with decorations and presents. Billy's a bit overwhelmed at first, but seeing how happy Mary is when they pull him into their family traditions helps him get into the Christmas spirit.

Captain Marvel is always helping out the community and I can totally see him teaming up with a local toy drive and donning a santa hat to deliver toys to sick and/or underprivileged kids in Fawcett.

Cap is also the type to volunteer for Monitor Duty shifts on Christmas day simply because he wants everyone else to enjoy their holiday.

One tradition I think Billy would enjoy is seeing the Christmas lights! Both as Billy and as Cap he would wander around town to get a look at all the best decorations.

To me Billy is the type to be very careful with his money so he's hesitant to spend a lot on presents. Instead he tends to make gifts for others so they are personal/sentimental. In return he prefers simple and practical gifts over anything fancy.

Bonus: since I headcanon Freddy as Jewish, I like to imagine that he digs out his grandpa's menorah each year so that he and Billy (and later Mary) could spend the week of Hanukkah together gifting each other small things like candy and socks if they had the money. it's all very laid back (especially in contrast to Christmas Day at the Bromfields)

Thank you again for this ask, it was so fun to think about! I would love to hear if anyone else has any holiday headcanons they would like to share 💜

[hearthvkoo]

ABOUT ME ✨

Hi, my name is Mari!

I'm an army since 2019, i love and support the boys all equally and I can't imagine my life without them.

Thanks to BTS i start to learn Korean and this year I will receive the basic level certificate, I want to improve and learn more and better about this beautiful language.

My bias is Taehyung and my wrecker is Jungkook!

I also believe in Taekook! I create this blog because I want to to interact with more Army and Taekookers, so feel free to share your toughts and your feeling with me! I will not accept hate or inappropriate questions, so be kind!

Also I ask you to be a little bit patient with me, because english is not my first language so It's possibile that i'll make some mistake while writing (but I can read and understand everything).

That's all :)

아포방포 💜💚

i just found out that this blog that I made is a secondary blog, so if you follow me, automatically i'll follow you back with my main blog @whenmariwasthere sorry for this little incovenient :)