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bunny-jpeg · 14 hours ago

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hi bunny, just got broken up with so anything to fix a broken heart would be amazing but highly need Lando Norris to be the situation.

Maybe best friends to lovers, kinky kinky good shit

heartbreak heaven

lando norris

tags: smut & fluff, friends-to-lovers, jealousy, sweet talk, break ups

a/n: i'm so sorry about that anon! break-ups are always the hardest, but i promise it does get a lot better! i hope you love this fic and maybe it soothes some of the ache from the heartbreak! i gave it a mix of romantic, fluffy, smutty goodness! - word of advice: chocolate is a great medicine for a heartbreak!

"that's crazy! i can't believe he did that." lando said as he leaned over and grabbed another tissue from the box on the coffee table, "we should kill him."

you looked at him, unamused as you took the tissue from him, "not funny, lando." you remarked as you wiped your eyes, "i can't believe he did that. he just up and left, he said that he could do it anymore. do what? am i that bad of a catch?" you huffed as you balled up the tissue, "stupid prick."

"ah well, his loss." he remarked. he was comfortable next to you on the couch with his arm draped over the back of it, "you'll get 'em next time, tiger."

you leaned up against him and exhaled deeply, "thanks, lando. nice to have a friend like you." then let out a small chuckle.

lando let you lay up against him and threw an arm around you. he sighed, "yeah... friend."

you had known lando for a while, since the karting days. your older brother was a racer, and while he didn't make it pro, you still remained closed to lando. you two were the same age and it was a a simple friendship. except lando didn't see it that way, when he was younger he never thought about happily ever afters and marriage. but, when you were around, even when you cheered on your brother, lando thought about you being mrs. norris. but time wasn't kind to him and after what felt like a dozen boyfriends, you were once again in lando's arms with tears in your eyes.

"you can do better." he said lowly, "so much better, you have no idea." he leaned in a little closer, his arm snaked around you, "how about someone who knows what the hell they're doing. to make you feel special, to please you."

"like oscar?" you asked a little oblivious.

lando sighed before he looked you in the eyes, "no... like me." before he captured your lips in his and wrapped both arms around you shoulders.

when he pulled away, he looked at you once more. and you stared back at him with shocker, "what!?" you asked and he felt heat in his cheeks.

"i can explain-"

you pulled him in for a tight kiss once more before you held onto his shoulders tightly. you felt the excitement through both of your bodies, he pressed his forehead up against yours with his eyes closed before he asked, "bedroom?"

lando know the layout of your flat like the back of his hand. he took you by the hand and led you towards your bedroom. he flicked on the lights and you led him further into your domain. the white rug, the string lights, the soft bed with the stuffed animals on it, which included a stuffed dog that he picked up for you while overseas.

"you look good you know, even with all your runny make up." he joked, "in order to really love a girl you gotta see her in her most comfortable." it didn't help that you were in sleeping shorts and a mclaren t-shirt (another gift from lando). and then started to get his t-shirt off. you did the same to your own shirt, lando eyed the shape of your body under the t-shirt.

you looked away for a moment and asked, "does it look bad?"

lando shook his head, "oh, no way. you look.... beautiful. what the fuck were these guys thinking? obviously a waste of a beautiful woman." his hands went to the belt on his black jeans, "i have a theory, that when a guy sees a woman as beautiful as you. they get intimidated. scared little boys." he chuckled.

"because you were always scared to ask me out?"

lando nodded, "yeah, but... i can't help myself anymore. if i see you with one more guy, i'm going to crash my car into them... i want you." he practically fell to his knees in front of you while you sat on the bed. he placed a large hand on your thigh, "i can't take it anymore, i want you. i need you. i want to be with you."

you took him by the face and gazed into his beautiful eyes. you ran your thumb across his bottom lip and nodded, "then after this.. you show me all the other ways a proper man should treat a woman."

lando took you by the hand and pushed your wrist up against his face, he exhaled deeply and said, "of course... every way i can."

you both were soon up by the pillows, lando's large hands on you as he held onto your shoulders to kiss you. the kiss was heavy, near bruising on your lips. the bed shifted under the both of you as you stripped of your clothes. you were left bare for lando as he felt up your skin.

he took in the sight of you, enough distance to admire your face and body, you looked heavenly, like a divine being. laid out on the soft covers of your bed. the male species must be a bunch of goddamn idiots. he laid you out on the bed, he admired your beauty as he felt you up. he swallowed and said, "beautiful, you know that right? beauty beyond words." then laughed a little as he captured your lips with his once more.

"please, lando." you reached over into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, "no ifs, ands, or buts." and lando took it happily. it was quite erotic seeing lando put on a condom. it arose something in you, you couldn't quite put into words. and then when he was back between your legs once more. you smiled up at him and said, "you look good with one on."

"better safe than sorry." he remarked, "now, relax... i've been waiting for this for a long, long time." his childhood friend, his first crush, was now under him on her bed all spread out and perfect for him. one hand on his cock and another on your hip, he slowly sank into you and felt a shudder through his body. it felt hot, very hot.

"how does it feel?" you asked, for a moment you were self conscious. you knew that lando could have any woman he wanted, there were tons of grid bunnies, models and beyond who would die for a piece of lando. it made you feel a little self conscious in yourself.

"how does it feel? it feels amazing, fuck. you feel as good as you look. holy shit." he chuckled softly, "you have no idea what you do to me. all the times i thought about you. yearned for you. the longest crush i've ever had." he said as he held your hips and continued to move against you.

"no need to flatter me, lando. you already have me." then yelped when lando hiked your hips up a little bit.

lando chuckled as he moved against you faster, "i love when you say that, how that sounds on your tongue. your sweet voice telling me that i have you. but call me greedy, beautiful, because i want all of you." his pace quickened and he leaned in further towards you.

"fuck, lando." you groaned. you wondered where he learned those words. you felt the shudder through you as the pleasure continued to course through you, the patter of your heart grew as he continued to love you.

"that's it, angel. that's it." he groaned as he rutted against you, "jesus christ, you're beautiful. you have no idea what you do to me. fuck, i could name all the times i saw you and my jaw dropped."

"flirt." you moaned.

"only for you, angel." he said as he continued to move, his pace was rather feverish the more he needed you. you held onto his shoulders and he loved the feeling of your nails in his tanned shoulders. it only made him yearn for you more as he rutted against you. he could feel the heat in his cheeks and the pleasure cloud his thoughts.

it was hard to think of much else when he was buried in his sweet cunt. your cunt made him wild as he moved. he wanted more, no, he needed more. more of you, more of his first and only crush. no matter how many trophies he won, to have you in his arms was worth more than that.

he kissed you once more, and you held his face. you tried to meet his pace as his cock worked inside of you. it was hot between you two, you could feel the heat at your temples as you kept your legs up to keep him fucking you.

you tensed up at the feeling, at his words. when he pulled away from the kiss, you two gazed at one another. you didn't think that you'd ever be with lando, but there he was. he gazed at you with a heated want as the two of you continued to move against one another. it felt electric, hot in a way that made your core swirl.

he was erotic, painfully hot. you felt the pleasure grow in your body. it was something else, a totally different feeling. you groaned, "fucking hell, lando."

lando beamed down at you and continued to fuck you. the kisses continued soon after and he felt the fire in his gut from the want from you. you were beyond perfect, he knew that. the way your pussy took him left him hungry for more.

"you're amazing." he said lowly, "so perfect."

"not as perfect as you." you said as you kissed him on the cheek, your hands in his hair as the two of you fucked against one another with a heated passion. the fire between the both of you as you two rutted against one another.

the pleasure only bloomed in your gut as he moved against you and you moved against him. you moved together in a sort of harmony. a perfect pace of one another as the pleasure moved through both of you. it felt like heaven and it made your toes curl at the feeling.

it didn't take much longer before you held onto him and came around his cock. your cutn clenched around his cock and he rutted against you further. the two of you moved against one another heavily. the pleasure only crashed over you, and then soon after it crashed over him and he came inside of the condom. he groaned into your shoulder as he finished. you held onto him closely and the two of you continued to move against one another.

he groaned against your skin and felt the fire in his soul. it felt amazing, and as he slowed to a stop. he admired you. he saw the expression on your face and your features, the same features he loved growing up. the two of you kissed one another before lando laid in bed beside of you. he held your face when he kissed you again.

you giggled against him then pulled away. you two looked at one another and you wrapped an arm around him. you asked, "how was that?"

"oh perfect." he chuckled as he held your face, "beyond perfect." he looked at you closely and felt a sense of relief in his body. he kissed you once more then said, "i want you for the rest of my life."

and who were you say no? <3

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snoopychris · 1 day ago

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introducing... nerd!matt and cheerleader!reader

warnings: mentions of vomit, underage drinking

matt's a little weird, quiet, and regularly ignored by other students. you're the girl who everybody in school wants to be (and matt wants to be with.)

when matt first started high school, he thought it would be a brand new start. he thought that he'd finally have more than two friends. he thought that people would finally notice him for being more than an extension of his brothers. he even thought that maybe, just maybe, girls would start to notice him. that was four years ago. even now, during the first semester of his senior year, matt does not have more than two friends, people do not see him as more than “the tight end’s brother”, “the photographers brother,” (even though some people have started seeing him as “that nerdy kid.”) and girls, in matt’s eyes, do not notice him.

when you first started high school, you felt on top of the world. you had an amazing group of friends, you felt surrounded by people you loved, and you felt seen. everybody loved you and the things you represented. always so full of pep and school spirit, there was no doubt you’d be cheer captain senior year. your 18th birthday was the biggest sign of being so loved. chris threw you a party at his house, and it seemed like there wasn’t a single person from your school who was missing. at some point through the night, your love for partying and drinking became pure hatred. you were leaned over the toilet of some random bathroom in the sturniolo house, hair being held back by chris- or at least, you swore it was chris at first. after a few minutes of vomiting, you came to the realization that there was no way it was chris. he was too nervous and sweet to be chris. that was the first time you really noticed matt. you had seen him around before, but you’d never really talked to him, nothing much more than a smile in the hallway or a thumbs up when he got a question right in class. the night of your 18th birthday party was the first time you had ever thought that “love at first sight” could be a real thing.

matt swore that you didn’t even remember that night. he was fully convinced that the next time you saw him in the hallway you would turn a blind eye, send him the usual smile, and continue walking alongside his brother and the rest of your friends. the truth of it was, the next time you saw matt in the hallway, you stopped in your tracks and grabbed onto his arm. matt’s heart did something he didnt think was actually possible and skipped multiple beats as he pulled out one of his airpods. your voice was quiet, but it was still the sweet, peppy voice that everybody in the school loved, “thank you… for the other night.” you notice the way he swallows and you can practically see the way the cogs in his head are turning “n… yeah… um… of course. its no problem at all.” you tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear, something that’s usually a tell tale sign of you being attracted to somebody, a habit you’ve always had and your friends have picked up on. as he begins to walk away, you feel your heart slightly sink before chris pulls you from your spot in the hallway. “theres no way you’ve got a crush on the sturniolo that still has a pokemon backpack”

๋࣭⭑ a/n: first post omggg ahhhh nervous. ive seen a lot of nerd and shy matt au's around and this takes inspo from a mix of a lot of those but there's nobody in particular to give credit to (but if you'd like some please feel free to message me and lmk!!!) divider credits to @bernardsbendystraws

#⋆˙⟡snoopychris #⋆˙⟡nerd!matt #⋆˙⟡matt!#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo series #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo au #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fluff

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juletheghoul · 2 days ago

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adversary

a/n: Merry Christmas and happy holidays! just jumping on to post some Joel, hopefully you enjoy! 💕 not beta’d and barely proofread, but thank you to @just-here-for-the-moment for taking a look- this ones for you!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, bit of an age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Joel laying down the law and making sure you’re not in your head, allusions to past trauma, toxic relationship with Joel, but both parties like it- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

word count: 1k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

Surviving in the world, as it stood, meant keeping your face unreadable, and your mouth shut.

When Tommy had arrived in Jackson, he’d been easy to accept. He’d been humble and grateful, hardworking and eager to cement his place. Quiet. Peaceful.

Joel was a different beast. He tested your limits, broke the façade that had been crafted with care and time and trauma. The mask you’d created for safety, for the good of the community, had come terrifyingly close to cracking under the strength of his gaze.

Maria had been wary when he’d shown up, and who could blame her judging by the things Tommy had whispered to her in their dark hours, but then again she’d been wary of you too.

She still was. Sort of.

Mostly it was a distant respect, what she felt for you, what you imagined everyone in Jackson must feel for you, If how they treated you was anything to go by. You were content with this though. A peaceful, quiet life was more than anything you could have hoped for. When people averted their eyes from you, when they kept their conversations short and to the point, when they left you alone, you took it as a sign, took it as good fortune. In this world, you were lucky to have this.

Your solitude was the first thing Joel threatened. It was the first thing he took, and it wasn’t the last. He also took the comforting silence of an empty, safe, house.

He took your hard-won peace.

“Open the door.” His voice slipped through the cracks in the door like smoke, raising your heartbeat, as well as your blood pressure.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this again.” You opened the door, just a crack.

“Go away, Joel.”

“We never agreed on anythin’, don’t play dumb with me, woman, I saw you lookin’ at me this mornin’ just like I was lookin’ at you.” The toe of his boot slides just inside, stopping you from slamming the door in his face.

“I don’t want you right now.” You crossed your arms, yet didn’t move. This was the game you always played, and he was wise to it now, so he laughed.

“Yes you do, I can practically taste it.” It’s pitch black outside the house except for the glint in his eyes, he’s obviously in a good mood, which only sours yours further. “Let me in baby, I’m in a givin’ mood, let me be sweet to you.” His hand reaches through the crack in the door and strokes, petal-soft, at the skin of your arm. Instantly your body betrays you, blooms for him while outwardly, you seethe.

“Come on darlin’,” His voice is warm honey now, “let me in so I can do all those things I know you like.” His towering frame presses closer, slipping through the widening crack in the door, and you let him.

A filthy moan slips past your mouth, and into his ego.

“Such a good girl, takin’ this cock just how I need you to take it.” He swirls his hips, pressing deep enough to pull another moan despite the useless vow of silence you’d promised to no one except maybe your own pride.

“Shut up-“ you pant with an embarrassing lack of any real bite, inwardly cursing him for how good it feels, while physically clutching at him harder. He laughs, slowing his movements down.

“You like it when I talk though, I can feel how fuckin’ wet you are right now, drippin’ all over—“ you pull him closer, kissing him in the foolish attempt to disguise the noises you couldn’t seem to stop making, as well as stop him from pouring more gasoline onto the fire he lit in your veins.

He got the hint, blessedly. He was in a giving mood, being real sweet despite how disrespectfully he was fucking you.

His skin slips against yours, sweatslicked and warm as he crushes you to the mattress with every heavy stroke, his cock is so hard you vaguely wonder if he’d been imagining this. That thought turned you on, to know that despite the usual aversion, the perpetual scowl on his face that he’d been craving you for god knows how long - it made him seek you out. Whether or not you wanted to be the object of his desire, you still didn’t quite know.

Thoughts spiraled though and soon the moans turned into frustrated sighs. The inner conflict he embodied for you chased away the pleasure, replaced it with inadequacy, with that ever-present melancholy and anxiety that was the new normal in this world. You felt him stop, felt him pull away, pull out of you with a grunt and the sour feeling swells. He can sense you’re not in it anymore, resigned to have to shower and chase the orgasm once he’s gone you blindly reach for the blanket—

“Turn over, hands and knees.”

“What? I thought-“

“Do what I say. Turn over.” His tone is serious and unquestionable, and it lights you up from the inside, even though you’d never admit it to him.

Once you get into position his hands are heavier, rougher. A heavy crack lands on your ass and you gasp, shocked, distracted. He enters you in once brutal thrust, giving you no time to get accustomed before he’s pulling you up, your back meeting his chest.

“There it is, gotta get you out of that pretty little head, fuck you dumb.” He pants the words in your ear, his fingers slipping between your legs to pinch your clit. “That’s it baby, feel that?” His words are clipped, one hand working between your legs while the other holds your breast possessively, keeping you pressed tight.

All thoughts are knocked out of your head by the heavy stroke of his cock, mindless, euphoric, rhythmic and divine. Tighter and tighter the coil winds, a full body clench only inches away from the brainless buzz of pleasure and when his teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder it snaps.

He grunts as your cunt squeezes him tight, clenching around his cock, milking him dry as he grinds himself deeper, as deep as he can.

He says nothing as he dresses, nothing still as he walks down the stairs and out of your house. He never does, and as the blood cools and the exhaustion shoos away your consciousness, you vaguely wonder if you’d ever need him to.

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hyukascampfire · 1 day ago

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𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg.

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain.

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever.

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded? He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you.

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.”

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure.

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks?

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…”

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show.

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition.

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning.

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak.

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four. “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you.

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top.

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone.

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.”

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that.

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust.

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house.

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes.

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic.

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder.

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess.

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality.

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips.

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding.��

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you.

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted.

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good.

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath.

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it.

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it.

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this…

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh.

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad?

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost.

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet.

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

﹙📋﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @miukuui , @lunesdesire , @304files , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @xylatox , @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

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sparks-and-smoke · 1 day ago

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Hello! Could I get a fic about Bucky accidentally finding the reader’s Christmas gifts to him? Maybe he tries (and fails) to act surprised?

Thank you (ps I know it’s after Christmas, sue me)

Aww~ I don't care that it's too late for the holidays. It's cute! Merry Christmas (belated)

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader (code name honey)

Content/Warnings: none it’s just goofy holiday fluff

Author Note: merry late Christmas, this may or may not be loosely based in the Fate Stone AU I have brewing. (which since you are my beta reader ;) you already know about it.)

You are a notoriously bad gift giver, Bucky had been warned many times. He didn’t really care. As long as it came from the heart it couldn’t possibly be that bad. He could put up with socks or a cheesy mug as long as it came from you. But this was worse, so much worse.

“Sam, I don't even know what to do with it.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands, confiding in the only other person he knew that wouldn’t immediately tell Honey. “Can I be honest here, it’s hideous.”

Sam was keeping a pretty good poker face over his mug poker but the situation was undeniably funny. “It can’t possibly be that bad.” But Bucky’s mortified face said it all. “Why were you spying on her gift away?”

“I didn’t mean too! Necessarily. She hid it in the bottom of the closet, man. She didn’t even hide it well... I’m a spy, I notice things. Plus it was pretty hard to miss.” The blanket had been tucked away in the back of the walk-in closet under a few other things. But the obnoxious colors of the corner peeking out from under the folded jeans had caught his eyes. They didn’t own anything in orange. Anything.

His honey had gotten him a blanket, which would normally have been so very sweet seeing how Bucky hated being cold, but it wasn’t just a blanket. It was one of those viral blankets, the ones that are loosely based on 70’s rock band merch with lighting and thunder clouds rolling in the background. It’s featured pictures of Alpine, every goofy spastic picture of the cat that his girl could find with her name in the boldest font Bucky had ever seen. Honestly it hurt his eyes, and as Bucky went about describing it to Sam the other man damn near fell out of his chair.

“That is perfect. No really I think she might be a genius. I’m gonna need a video of you opening that one.” Sam goaded.

“You're not helping.” Bucky growls, guilt twisting in his guts like a worm, but Sam was too busy laughing to try and give a shit. “How am I gonna act surprised now? Let alone be excited?”

“I don’t dude, I guess you need to start taking an acting class.” Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.

~~~~

Bucky watched with crinkled eyes as you opened your gifts from him. A nice wool winter coat because all you owned was a puffer, and while it was adorable on you and always kept you warm you always said you wanted something dressier for date night. And in your stocking an assortment of your favorite treats, skin care you were low on, and that perfume that you had been drooling over since October but always talked yourself out of because of the price tag. Bucky had been making a list since your birthday, keeping tabs on what you lingered on in stores and what you sighed at as you scrolled. He knew his girl and he knew her well. And the way you lit up with every item told him he hit it out of the park.

“Do you like it Honey?” he asked, his chin propped on his hand. His face couldn’t have been softer or voice more full of love as he watched you glow with joy.

“I love it. How did you even know what eye cream I use?”

“It wasn't that hard doll.” Bucky laughed, it sits in a clear box on your vanity of course he knows.

“Here! Open yours.” You hand him his stocking and the present wrapped in pretty silver paper, looking so excited you may vibrate across the floor. He plastered on his best game face as his stomach did a little flip. Do not ruin this for her Barnes.

He starts with the stocking. Pulling out body wash and a cologne scented with that smoky bourbon and apple scent you were fond of, along with a small batch roasted coffee and some new gloves. So far so good, and he made sure to kiss you. “I love it honey.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t opened your big one.” you say with a twinkle in your eyes that makes him wanna melt into the floor. Should he tell her, confess he saw it? Risk it and pretend he loves it?

“You’re right I haven’t.” he corrects himself with a smile picking up the package. It was instantly heavier than he remembered and as he tears open the package he has a brief (very guilty) moment of hoping that maybe he was wrong…

But no there it is. That hideous blanket that he knows instantly from the look on your face he is gonna end up snuggling under for the rest of time just to see you smile the way you are right in this moment. He opened his mouth to tell you thanks as genuinely as he could muster but honey was already biting her bottom lip. A fit of giggles falling out of her. “You already saw it didn’t you!” she managed to get out between chitters.

“What?! No- I…”

A pillow from the couch flew at his head. “I knew you would. You little sneak, you do this every year!” Honey chastised as Bucky dodged another swing with the pillow.

“Hey! Whoa!” Bucky's arms go up in a weak attempt at blocking her little onslaught. “I didn’t mean too!”

“Bullshit James Buchanan!” thump, a hit to his ribs. “You did it on your birthday.” Whack, a bump to the top of his head. “You somehow sniffed out the tickets I bought to Coney Island.” one more swing but this time Bucky caught the pillow, pulling you into his lap with it.

“I did not do it on purpose!” he defended, but he was beaming. Eyes crinkling in the corner as she glared playfully. “I didn’t!”

“Yeah, you just somehow stumbled upon the blanket I hid under the laundry in the back of our closet.”

“I was looking for my coat!”

“On the ground?”

Bucky was caught, because yes he had been looking. He always did. The man couldn’t help it, he always was just too curious. “Yea, I thought so you little rat! Do you like it?” she asks earnestly. And Bucky feels that gnawing feeling again, trying not to let it show on his face.

“It’s… super fluffy.” he tries to deflect, hating to lie to honey, but her face is already breaking into a grin. What the hell?

“You hate it.” she beams. “It’s hideous huh?”

Bucky frowns, slouching back in his chair. Did she want him to hate it. “Uh, yeah it is..”

“Good thing it’s not your actual present huh.”

Bucky's eyes narrow. “You little-” She did this on purpose, hid the most outrageous thing she could find just to punish him for spoiling presents. Clever girl. Weeks of fretting over how he was gonna pull this off and SHE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. With a giggle honey climbs off his lap and back behind the couch, pulling out a slim package from the cavern behind, and Bucky’s face nearly splits in half.

“Here. Merry Christmas.” She offers him the parcel with a kiss, sitting in his lap as he unwraps it, and he feels his heart flutter a little. It’s a scrapbook. Full of pictures of him, her, Alpine and their friends. Taken by everyone who has known them the last few years. There isn’t a lot, he doesn’t like taking pictures, preferring to take them. So she must have scoured their friends' phones to find all of these and Bucky can feel tear picking the backs of his eyes. Good tears.

“Thank you Honey. I love it. I love you…”

#voice-of-velhart #bucky barnes #avengers #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Sparks picks up

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puckinghischier · 2 days ago

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Can we talk about how hard Luke would try to be helpful while you’re on your period? I just feel like all of his efforts would be so endearing

oh this is so perfect bc my body decided to give me its own christmas present yesterday 🤩

he would be so attentive, god love him. he’d even have his own tracker on his phone so he can be prepared and make sure he always has your favorites stocked when the time comes.

the second he starts seeing the signs, he’s making your coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, in the mornings and having it waiting on you with your favorite breakfast pastry. on your worst day he’s bringing it to you in bed, heated blanket on his arm.

if he has a day off from practice or gets back early from a morning skate, he’s assuming all housework duties. he’s making sure the kitchen is clean, bringing you your favorite comfort meal from your favorite restaurant, doing the laundry, tidying up the living room. he wants to make sure you don’t have to lift a finger.

he secretly loves when you’re having a rough cramp day, if he’s honest. not because he enjoys seeing you in pain, it’s the opposite really. it breaks his heart that you have to go through this every month, knowing there’s nothing he can do to take the pain away. but he loves how clingy you get, whining every time he gets up to leave the bed or the couch, even if it’s to get something you asked him to get.

he’s constantly calling and texting you to see how you’re feeling and asking if you need anything when he’s not with you. the guys in the locker room all make fun of him for it, but he could care less. it’s the least he can do. you’re constantly taking all of this on every other week of the month, doing all you can to make his life easier, wanting him to come home and be able to relax and focus on resting before or after games. so he’ll gladly take the responsibility on for this one week a month, to show you how much he appreciates you and loves you.

you become such a homebody when you’re on your period and luke eats it up. he loves nothing more than being lazy with you, and he gets at least an entire week of it each month. you refuse any offer of plans, not wanting to have to put on ‘real’ clothes, content with living in one of luke’s oversized shirts, period panties, and a loose pair of his boxers. and luke loves coming home to the sight more than he could ever express.

you love the effort he takes each month to make sure you’re comfortable and cared for. you don’t know how you did it, but you truly hit the jackpot with him. you hear him constantly on the phone with ellen, double checking which painkillers work best for cramps and what the best remedy for period induced headaches. you crawl into a freshly made bed every night, despite rotting on the couch all day. you get baths drawn for you with soothing smells and low light, like either joining you or sitting in the floor with you and telling you all about his day. you have a never ending supply of sweets and baked goods, thanks to his bakery runs every morning.

you always ask him how you can repay him, but he always tells you the same thing. “what you do for me every day is enough. being able to do this for you is repayment in itself. this is what i’m supposed to do. it’s my job to make sure you’re comfortable, taken care of, and loved.”

of course, the words always make your hormonal self emotional, tears falling every time at how much you love him and how lucky you are he loves you. but then he ruins the moment, adding in “plus, the post-period sex is always great, so that’s a good incentive, too.” you swat at him, telling him to shut up.

“i’m just kidding, sweetheart. i love doing this for you, seriously,” he’d back track, nuzzling his face into your neck to place small kisses there.

rolling your eyes, you respond with “you might like doing this for me, but you weren’t kidding, don’t lie.”

he gives you a “welll….” look, making you laugh, forgetting all about the ache in your lower abdomen.

#alliyaps #he’s such a sweetie pie #he can do no wrong #ever #he’d be such the perfect boyfriend i swear to god #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #lh43

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ineedpaigebuckets · 2 days ago

Note

Pazzi angst fluff!!!

protect you

an: first one shot!!! TRIGGER WARNING HANNAH HIDALGO MENTIONED!!! anyways enjoy!!!

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

paige was just lying on azzis chest as they watched home alone at azzis parents house. everyone else was asleep so it was just the two of them. ice being the instigator she is texted paige a tiktok of a hannah hidalgo live. paige watched the video volume on low so azzi couldn't hear. "what do you think of azzi fudd, i don't think about her what are you talking about." "there was no azzi in that game. congratulations! nobody asked." the words irked paige in a way she'd rather not describe she just huffed and started frantically typing out this long ass paragraph in hannah's dms before azzi heard the sound of typing.

"paige baby whatchu so stressed about?" she asked her voice soft as she places a soft hand on paige's cheek.

"fuckin hate hidalgo." she groans still typing. azzi gently tries to take paige's phone out of her hand but she doesn't budge.

"stop it azzi!" she says her voice more annoyed than usual causing azzi to flinch back.

"paige what is your problem." snatches paige's phone shoving it under her butt causing paige to sit up next to her climbing off of her chest.

"you didn't see her fucking live it was all "azzi fudd this azzi fudd that" blah blah blah bad mouthing my girl." azzi groaned and rolled her eyes. brushing her hair out of her face so she could properly yell at paige.

"paige i don't give a fuck what she has to say. i promise you it's fine. now what were you typing?" she asks pulling the phone back out and reading the text paige had wrote. still unsent thank god. azzi reads the message.

"fucking talk about my girl like that one more time and you're gonna find yourself trouble. this ain't about basketball and you know it. you gotta problem with me and my girlfriend say it to my fucking face not the whole internet. you're immature and you have no class-"

that's where azzi took the phone. her mouth is hung open as she reads the words and she stands up.

"paige madison you were not about to throw away your fucking career over this. you can't just say that." she's clearly mad. but all i'm good reason, she wanted paige to be the best she could be, get all the awards win all the games, the championships anything she could, this was not gonna help.

"you think i wouldn't do that to stand up for you azzi." paige doesn't stand up she stays seated, her anger all gone as she realized azzi was right. but her words were true. if it had hurt azzi in anyway she'd send it in a second.

"m'sorry i just wanna protect you." azzis face drops at paige's sweet words and she sits back in the spot on her couch with a huff.

"you're so fucking stupid." azzi grumbles but the cant hide the small smile on her face. she's deleted the paragraph and turned off paige's phone. of course paige crawls over and curls back into azzis chest.

"jus love you" she mumbles into azzis shirt and she can't help but hold the blonde close.

"i know i love you too so much." she whispers pressing soft kisses against her forehead.

"next time talk to me first alright. think before you act." paige nods and turns her attention back to the movie and the beautiful girl underneath her.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #uconn wbb #wbb #paige buckets #ineedpaigebuckets #paige x best friend #paige x reader #texts with paige

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leighsartworks216 · 3 days ago

Text

Hostage Situation

Zayne x Sylus (x gn!Reader)

The reader character doesn't actually show up in this, they're only mentioned by the guys, but this is still very much a poly relationship

Wrote this with brown noise blasting in my ears at full volume to drown out my annoying relatives so I hope the desperate yearning to be there with the boys comes through okay /hj

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, polyamory, cuddling, kissing, literal sleeping together, pet names, dialogue heavy

Word count: 597

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"I need to get up soon, love."

Sylus hums, acknowledging the words, but ignoring their meaning completely as he presses his face further against the doctor's neck, hiding from the daylight pouring in through the blinds. "What for?" he asks in a murmured rumble.

Zayne grins despite the inconvenience. He combs through Sylus's white locks, scratching idly at the base of his skull to draw out a low groan of appreciation. "I have work today."

"What kind? Surgeries, patients, or paperwork?"

He huffs. "Is this an interrogation?"

Sylus's hot breath tickles his neck as he laughs. "Yeah, it is." Lazy kisses begin littering his neck, from the hollow of his throat to his jaw, from his collarbones to just behind his ear. It's hard not to get sucked into the sweet pleasure of it all. Unhurried, warm, soft - he wants to melt into the bed and stay here all day. "You gonna talk willingly?"

He trails his hand along Sylus's bicep. Sylus, seemingly without thought, slips that arm out from underneath Zayne in order to hold his hand. They lay interconnected on the bed, stretched out to the side. That half of the bed is already empty. "When did they get up?" Zayne asks instead.

"Hmm," another kiss over his pulse, "they were already up when I got back."

"Ah, so I became your unwitting victim in their stead."

"Unwitting? Since when do victims willingly hold their kidnapper's hand?"

"It's an unfortunate hostage, caught in the crossfire," Zayne laments in the usual dead tone of his dry humor. Sylus snorts regardless.

He turns his face to rest his cheek on Sylus's forehead. He glances at the clock on his bedside table. "You're going to make me late again."

Sylus sighs deeply, but finally relents. He lifts himself up onto one arm to hover above his partner. Their hands depart so he can cup the doctor's cheek and swoop in for a proper kiss, slow and warming, before he at last pulls away and lays down on the empty half of the bed. He readjusts to lay on his stomach. As soon as Zayne gets up, he steals his pillow and uses it for his head, while one of yours has been captured and is being held to his chest.

"I'll see you tonight, before I have to leave," he murmurs from his comfy spot amidst the scents and lingering warmth of his partners.

Zayne hums, already heading to his closet to get dressed and start the day. "Try not to bring work back with you," he chides, all too affectionately to be scolding. "If your Evol runs out, you have other medical professionals at your disposal that can help."

"Yeah," he agrees with a chuckle, "but they don't kiss it better."

Zayne grins to himself as he grabs a black tie off the hanger. "Who says I'll kiss it better this time?"

Sylus pointedly holds up his left hand to show the gold and silver rings decorating his fingers. "Nuptial law, sweetie. Don't forget your lunch."

"I won't, thank you." He rounds the bed and presses a final kiss to the crime lord's temple. "Get some sleep. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Zayne stands back up and starts heading for the door, when a resounding SMACK! stops him dead in his tracks. His shoulders are up by his ears, his back tense and stock straight. He pivots sharply to glare down at his partner.

Sylus smirks, looking up at him with lazy red eyes and all the smugness in the world. "Sorry, snowflake. I couldn't resist."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

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doja365 · 2 days ago

Text

Crybaby(Chapter 1)

Dollhouse Masterlist TW- Neglect

Escape

That's all I could think about.

Escaping

Running, killing, hiding. Nothing would fill the void that was made only for me.

Killing is what I did most, well luckily since Talia Al Ghul was my trainer.

She took me in when I was on the run from my own family. She was cruel but sweet sometimes. She made me forget everything I left the Waynes for.

I had all the training I needed. I learned Jiu jitsu, Aikido, everything!

I was trained to be one thing

A murderer.

I still had school but when I talk to other kids they get scared of me. Why?

I enjoyed all kinds of art. Drawing, painting, movies, novels, and you know where I'm getting at. The kids looked at me like I was crazy, did I do something to them? Momma T, always adored what I did, it always seemed, normal.

I get the nice family I've been asking for instead of dealing with a rich man-whore as a father and possible drug-dealers as brothers. Damian always hit me for being a bitch and I don't know why. I mean I know his mother must've died and is stuck with a dick-head like Wayne but why deflect on me?

People know I'm different but I do the things girls do, I paint, I dance, I play instruments, and I know how to sing. I'm not that different from them.

But soon I understood, I learned to kill, hack, and steal. I learned all the horrendous things that was actually able to keep me alive. And for that I am thankful. I can even speak 8 languages for the sake of preventing exposure.

I am now Eurus Pirate Al Ghul the now concierge of crime.

I'm now a legal adult that makes her own decisions on the highest bidder for my next target.

5 years ago...

BANG!

"Did I get it?" I asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, you are becoming smarter now. I want you to come with me." Grandpa Ghul replied.

My challenge was to practice the art of stealth and elimination of opponents. I had to wear a tight uncomfortable black suit for the purpose of camouflage.

We arrived at a foyer and I saw mom nearby so I ran to her.

"Momma!" I ran straight to her and hugged her.

"Hey Pirate, I need you to do something and it's important for all of us." She said as she knelt down to me giving me a katana.

I would do everything for them, they saved me. But I never really knew it.

"Eurus, when you came here you looked like your father. Driven by rage and sadness, now it has brought our paths to cross." He said.

I smiled gladly, acknowledging his words and veneering gratitude. But I still didn't understand why I was here.

"But, I still need to test your commitment to justice. Don't be as gullible as your father, Bruce Wayne, young one."

A guard nearby dragged a shirtless man who was actually a thief. And Grandpa gave me the katana.

"Grandpa you're wrong about one thing."

"What?"

"Bruce Wayne's not my father."

SLASH!

"It's good to see someone make the right choice. Now someone clean this mess up."

"You've shown that you're dedicated to serving justice. Now you shall receive your title."

"What is it?"

"Artemis"

"As a reward, with no Ego, I can assure you, this is the finest sword"

The last memory I held onto for the days to come

Present...

I was drinking some scotch whilst smoking, and I waited for my next assignment. I was able to graduate as an archaeologists because I get good money on the side, and it's easier with the whole assassin thing.

RING!

"What is it Tank?" I asked. Each one of us calls each other by nicknames in order to prevent prying eyes. The only time we address each other by our real name is when we are at the penthouse.

"We got one for ya Artie."

"Let this be a bit harder, alright sweetheart I don't want my target to be a 50 year old hormonal man with only Mickey Mouse as his guard."

I swear that sounded a lot better in my head.

"Relax Artemis, this one's gonna be good I promise."

"Where's the target?"

"Gotham."

"You better not be fucking with me T."

"Check your front door."

I opened the door and saw a big box. It contained the file with some weapons and a 'welcome home gift'. Gosh he can be such a bitch most of the time. I read the file and I wish I could unsee it.

"I know you'd like this Artie"

File:

Name: Jason Todd Alias: Red Hood Kill Count: 83 Status: Alive Price: $500,000 Location: Gotham Brought To: Joker

WANTED

"Artie, ARTEMIS! You there?"

"I could've taken it for one dollar, he's not worth this much."

"Great just give me the $499,999 and I'll split it with the rest Artie."

"Fuck you."

"I'd rather have you do that sweetheart."

"In your dreams, prepare a delivery for Jason's head to the Joker. I may be the concierge but it doesn't mean I won't kill with my bare hands. Prepare the artillery and get me a dilapidated house to prevent the media. Let's tear that bitch apart."

Taglist:

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e,@horror-lover-69

#yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere richard grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere barbara gordon #yandere tim wayne #gifs #neglected reader #melanie martinez #crybaby reader #assassin reader

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9agust3 · 3 days ago

Text

"You and your boyfriend were hanging out at a mutual friend's party, but things got a little too heated, and you both decided to sneak off to the restroom"

Pairing: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Established relationship, Idol!Yoongi

Warnings: Sub!Yoongi and Soft Dom!Reader, public sex, quick handjob, praise, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m!receiving), she slaps his cock once, protected sex!!!, he fucks her against the sink, she covers his mouthARGH, they love each other so much:(

Wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: I saw yoongi's video on the day of ggukie's party, and I couldn't resist. He looked so handsome@&%^@$@ i miss him so much:(

Jungkook organized a private listening party for his new album, inviting his closest friends, and of course, you and Yoongi were on the guestlist. The party takes place at a bar, very nice and cozy, with delicious food, good decoration and lighting. Everyone is having fun, drinking, chatting, and laughing for quite a long time now, and you, feeling your boyfriend's eyes, which happen to be right next to you, burning into you. He's wearing a black shirt with a blazer over it, pants and shoes, all in the same color, and a simple silver necklace. A complete snack.

Honestly, if this party wasn't so important for Ggukie, you'd probably have ripped this outfit off of him before the party even started. He looks and smells so good, wearing his most expensive perfume just for you. You're dressed especially well too, in the same color palette as him, a black dress, an overcoat, knee-high leather boots, and silver accessories.

The younger boys and Hobi are drunk, singing and dancing together with other friends. Jin has also overstepped his bounds and is mumbling to himself in his chair. Namjoon is sitting next to you, talking to a nice guy he met. And you're laughing quietly at the clowns you're seeing. Until you feel your boyfriend's fingers caressing your thigh. You look at him, and he's looking straight ahead. You caress him with your foot under the table. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye and smiles at you.

You get up.

"I'm going to the bar. Come with me?"

Yoongi nods, looking up at you.

"Nam," you catch his eye, nudging him lightly, "I'm going to the bar with Yoongi. Text me if you need us."

"Sure, feel free," he says and gives you a sweet smile, then turns his attention back to the nice guy.

Yoongi gets up, and you take his hand, leading him to the bar, where you sit down.

"What can I do for you?" asks the barman.

"How about two shots of the best whisky you've got?"

"Right away."

"Thank you." You smile sweetly and turn your full attention to the brunette next to you. He was looking at you with eyes full of love.

"You're so beautiful."

You laugh awkwardly, "Did you enjoy your dinner? The food here is very good"

"I think so too, I'd like to try their ice cream too"

"We can pass there before we leave"

"Yeah."

The two of you sit in silence for a while, staring at each other and laughing softly.

"Here you go guys, can I help you with anything else?"

"No thanks, dear," you take your order.

"You're welcome. " He turns around.

Yoongi tastes the whisky.

"Is it good, kitten?" You lean your face on the palm of your hand and look at him with a silly smile.

Yoongi chuckles, "The drinks here are great. The two I had earlier have already left me a little cheerful, and I think you too, but you still brought me here. Do you want to get me drunk, woman?"

You let out a good laugh, "funny"

"If that's your plan, it'll work", he smiles.

"And what was your plan when you caressed my thigh?"

"None... I just wanted your attention", he looks at the glass in his hand, playing with it.

"Hey, look at me", you lift his face by his chin. "Now you have my attention."

Yoongi sighs and blinks repeatedly, his gaze on your mouth.

"Give me your wallet," you gesture with your hand.

He takes it out of his pocket and hands it to you without even thinking, you being bossy like that out of nowhere could have been the death of him. You take enough to pay for the two drinks, put it on the counter, and whisper in his ear.

"I just brought you here in case anyone asks where we went. Count to thirty and follow me." You nibble his earlobe, kiss his cheek, and then leave.

Yoongi's gaze follows you until you disappear down a corridor. He finishes his drink and patiently counts to thirty. And then he's looking for you, he imagines that you're waiting for him in the bathroom, which he doesn't know where it is. He turns down the same corridor you did before, looks around kinda lost until he's pulled tightly by the arm.

Yoongi lets out a painful whine as he is pressed against the cold wall of the bathroom. The door is now locked.

"Hi love."

"You've got your sexy voice on," he replied with a shaky breath.

"Yes, I do, and you like it."

"A lot."

You start kissing his neck, he sighs and closes his eyes.

"Are you all right, love?" You asked and caressed his cheek. He knows you're asking for his consent.

"Come back to my neck, please" he holds your wrist

"I need to hear you say it," you whisper in his ear

"Yes, I am."

Your hand is on the back of his neck now, fingers entwined in his dark locks. You kiss his neck like a vampire hungry for blood.

He puts one of his hands on your waist in an attempt to stay up, his knees are shaking, almost giving up on him. And you notice this, so to give him a hand, you press your knee right between his legs.

He gets off balance and accidentally ends up sitting on your thigh.

"Ah! love," he holds harder onto your waist with both hands now.

"Cute."

"That's embarrassing."

"I feel you, and you're already hard. I haven't done anything yet." You run the hand that was on the back of his neck down his body and slide it into his pants. You giggle naughty, "Let me guess, me throwing you against the wall is what got you that way?"

"I like it when you're rough"

"Yeah?", you hiss and press your thigh harder against his cock.

He throws his head back and lets out a delicious moan. You love what you see, but sadly, you take your hand out of his pants and lower your leg, leaving him with a devastated look.

"Baby please..."

"Put me on the sink", you take off your overcoat and hang it on a bag holder since you are in the lady's room.

"What?" he straightens up

"Or you don't want to taste me?"

He opens his eyes wide and reaches for you with desperate hands, pulling you close by the waist. He kisses you passionately, the way only he does and lifts you onto his lap.

He puts you on the sink carefully without breaking the kiss, which goes down to your neck, collarbones, cleavage, and belly. He's already on his knees in front of you. It's a scene you've seen many times before, but you can never stop involuntarily opening your legs during it.

The kisses are now on the inside of your thighs. He lifts your dress slightly and holds the hem of your panties, looking at you with the eyes of a puppy begging for a treat. You nod, giving him the consent he so desperately wanted, and he pulls your panties off with the help of his mouth, so slow that feels like torture. You can't stand how sexy he can be.

"Don't forget that we don't have much time"

"Yes mistress", he murmurs while giving you kisses right below your belly button.

It's not customary for the two of you to have sex in public, but everyone needs a break. Sometimes, it's hard to hold back. Like the time you two sneaked out to the car in the middle of one of his coworkers' fancy birthday party, or in the last trip you went together, where you rode him in the hot tub of the hotel you were staying in, at night when no one was around.

You almost made love in bed this morning, but Yoongi had to leave for work to be free by the time of the party, and you had things to do too. Having to hold back while getting ready, you both couldn't take your horniness any longer.

He puts your legs on his shoulders and licks your pussy, you hold him by the hair and close your eyes, breathing deeply.

Yoongi's tongue is not to be trifled with. He can take you there once, twice, and more without getting tired. It's so pleasurable for him to suck you, he doesn't even expect anything in return, just by seeing you feeling good and hearing you calling his name, he can come without even touching himself, or just accept it and stay quiet, like the good boy he is.

He stares at you from below, caressing your thighs.

You look at him and smile.

"Keep it up, kitten, don't stop. You're doing great," you push his hair away from his forehead and pat his head.

And with a flick of his tongue, the caress turns into a hair tug. You curse and squeeze him with your thighs. He holds them tighter and smirks without stopping working.

"Baby, I'm close"

He knows. He knows when you're near, you don't even have to tell him. He knows every bit of you, just like you know him. But you still say it because you know it turns him on. He lowers one of your legs to gain better access to your clit, which he rubs with his thumb.

"Now love", you exclaimed, trying to stay quiet, and he held you with the hand that was still on your thigh.

But instead of relaxing, you began to feel overstimulated as the brunette between your legs refused to stop tasting you.

"Yoongi, that's enough," you barked.

He ignored your order and began to reach into the pit of your knee to put your leg back over his shoulder. But before he could do that, you pulled him up sharply by the hair.

"I said enough." You hissed, shaking him with your hand tightly in his black hair.

He whimpers, closing his eyes tightly, looking for your hand in his hair.

"Put your hand down."

He leans on the sink with both hands around you and opens his eyes to look at you.

"I'm sorry, who?"

"I'm sorry"

He sighs, starting to close his eyes again, but you shake him by the hair.

"Huh? Answer me."

"I'm sorry mistress... it's hard for me to contain myself, I love tasting you so much"

"Oh my kitten, I forgive you, but as I said. We. don't. have. time." You pull his hair harder, and he moans, fucking the sink cabinet underneath you.

"Awn, is baby desperate for pussy?"

"Uh-huh," he moans with a pout on his lips.

"Do you want to cum in mommy's pussy?"

"Yes, please."

"Oh, my always polite boy, I hope you brought a condom, because I'm not leaving here dripping." You release his hair and give it a caress.

He reaches into his pocket for his wallet and pulls out a condom.

"Are we doing this so often? How did I miss that?" You laugh.

He puts the wallet away and puts the condom in his mouth, leaning back on the sink with his arms around you.

You smile and take the condom.

"Take off your pants."

He takes off his belt as quickly as he can, leaving his pants on his feet so that he can put them on quickly if he needs to.

"Take off your underwear and that blazer too."

He does it without contest. When he's finished, you pull him close by the necklace he's wearing. You open the condom and touch his length, moving your hand up and down before putting it on.

"Look at this pretty little cock" You give him a kiss, "Is it nice, my love?"

"Yes mistress"

You spit on his cock and speed up your movements, staring at him. And he lets out a long cry.

"Darling, you said we didn't have time!"

"Sorry, it's just that I love watching you squirm." You smile and give his cock a slap, to which he reacts with a gasp.

You put the condom on him, laugh, and lean back against the sink. Looking directly at him, you spread your legs.

"Come here, my love"

He comes closer and puts his hands on your waist, kissing you passionately. You feel his tip rubbing against your entrance.

You put your hands on his hips, pulling him forward, making him sink into you.

You both moan in unison, and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close. Which you also do when you put your arms around his neck.

Your foreheads are together, and he moves slowly inside you.

"I love you so much, you know?" He sighs at you. "It doesn't matter where I am. My job is to serve you."

He runs his hand down your leg and kisses your neck.

"Am I doing okay mistress?" He asks between kisses.

"You're perfect, my love."

He speeds up his thrusts, and you put your hands inside his shirt, searching for his nipples. His moans are getting louder and whinier. You didn't care until you heard knocks on the door.

"Is the restroom occupied?" A female voice asks from outside.

You cover his mouth with your hand. "Don't stop," you whisper in his ear. "Yes! And I'll be a while, darling."

"But is everything all right?"

You take a deep breath before answering, trying to concentrate as Yoongi thrusts hard into your pussy.

"It's okay, I just need some time!"

"All right then, no rush", she says, and you hear the sound of her heels dissipate.

"Well done, my good boy." You praise him without removing your hand from his mouth. "What do you think about speeding it up a bit, huh?"

He lets out a muffled growl and does as you ask, gripping your thighs tightly and pulling them against him. You throw your head back, holding back a loud moan.

"Keep going baby, you're doing so well", your walls are already squeezing his cock, making it harder for him to work.

He lets out a long, desperate sob against your hand. Shutting his eyes tightly.

"Are you close, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," he nods several times.

"Me too, me too, baby. Let's cum together, how's that? Huh?"

You wrap your arm around his neck without taking your hand away from his mouth, and he hugs you tightly around the waist.

He rests his forehead on yours and thrusts a little harder.

"Yoongi"

He opens his eyes, you take your hand away from his mouth.

"I love you."

And he goes off with that, letting out an extended mewl, you right after him. You hold each other trembling, climaxing together.

"That was... wow!"

"Yeah, I can't believe we did that"

"My knees are shaking" he smiles.

You run your hand over his face and neck to wipe away some sweat.

"It's a good thing there's air conditioning in here, even with it we're all sweaty, imagine without it"

"And when you covered my mouth? I almost went mad"

"I knew you'd like it and I wasn't going to do the absurd thing of telling you to stop"

He takes off the condom and puts his pants back on. Picks up your panties, helping you put them on. You both finish getting dressed, and you pull him into a slow kiss.

"What about we get that ice cream and go home?"

"I think that's a great idea."

"Hey, this will be the last time we do this in public, okay?"

"Yes ma'am"

It certainly won't be the last time.

#yoongi smut #sub!yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #yoongi oneshot #bts x you #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut

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hischierslovergirl · 17 hours ago

Note

“Are you jealous?” “No, I’m not!” “Oh, you really are jealous! Wait, why would you be jealous?” with Nico?

Thank you for requesting! I tweaked the wording from the prompt around a bit to fit better, I hope that’s okay! x

It wasn’t uncommon for Nico to drag you to whatever team gathering was being held, but it was getting increasingly difficult to convince people that the two of you weren’t together with each one you attended. No matter how many times the two of you told everyone you guys were just friends, no one seemed to believe you. You understood why your denials fell to deaf ears, especially after the two of you turned up to their halloween party in matching costumes, but their constant teasing only acted as an incessant reminder that Nico didn’t reciprocate your well hidden feelings.

For New Years, a few of his teammates were gathering at some bar to celebrate, and you had agreed to go since the few other friends you had were gone back home. You were lingering in a corner with a few of the other girls as some of the guys went back to the bar to replenish on drinks. As the four of you were in an in depth conversation about the usual drama, you felt a gentle tap to your shoulder.

You hesitantly looked over your shoulder and let your eyes fall on a tall, muscular guy who looked like he had just stepped out of a copy of GQ. He was sporting a bright and wide smile as he held his hand out, which you gingerly took in your own as you glanced at Nicole.

“Hi, I’m Colin,” He introduced himself, “I saw you as soon as I walked in, and I couldn’t help but come introduce myself to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You raised your brows at his brazenness, hearing the quiet chuckles of the girls behind you as you tell him your name, “Nice to meet you, Colin. You’re very sweet.”

By the time the boys got back, Colin had left you with a not so subtle remark about where he’d be once the clock struck midnight, and the girls were relentlessly teasing you about it.

“What are you guys talking about,” Nico asks as he hands you your drink before slotting himself against your side.

“Oh, nothing,” Nola waves off, “Just making sure she’s ready for her New Years kiss.”

Nico nearly choked on his drink as her words echoed around him, earning several knowing looks from everyone except for you. You watched him with wide, confused eyes as he brought his hand to wipe away the remnants of the beer around his mouth before taking a deep breath. His eyes shifted towards you, trying to gauge if what the girl across from him was being truthful, but all he found was worry on your face.

“What New Years kiss,” Nico slowly mumbled, eyes squinting at you with uncertainty.

“There’s no New Years kiss,” You roll your eyes, “Some guy came up to me when you guys were gone and tried to hit on me. Told me he’d be standing in the corner by the booth at midnight ‘just in case I wanted to know’.”

You watched as Nico’s face fell, his lips turning downwards into a frown as he looked away from you and to the table in front of him. The grip he had on his beer tightened to the point that his knuckles were turning white, which made you furrow your brows in confusion, but it also made a swell of hope form in your chest.

“Why? Are you jealous,” You teased, playfully bumping him with your shoulder.

“What? No, I’m not,” He scoffed, shaking his head so aggressively that his beanie slid around on his head.

You can see everyone subtly slip away from the table from the corner of your eye, but you pay them no mind as you observe Nico and the way his entire demeanor seemed to have shifted. His eyebrows were knitted together in evident frustration, his shoulders pulled taut as he absentmindedly swirled the liquid around the beer bottle.

“Wait,” You breathe out, taking a shaky breath to rid yourself of the nerves radiating from your body, “Are you jealous?”

When Nico didn’t say anything, you took a step closer to him and gently placed your hand on his bicep, fingers curling around the muscle as you hesitantly try again, “Nico, why would you be jealous?”

He dragged his deep brown eyes to the hand on his arm then up to your own, pure and raw vulnerability swimming in the depths of his irises as he says, “I think it’s pretty obvious, no?”

If you thought you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to how you felt now. Your entire body was on fire, heart drumming in your chest and your head spinning at the insinuation he was hiding between his vague words. Everything you wanted to say kept getting caught in your throat, the idea of being wrong made a pit form in your stomach, so you decided to play it safe.

“Depends,” You shrug, anxiously chewing on the inside of your cheek as you brought your arm back to your side, “What part is obvious?”

“Seriously,” He slyly raises his eyebrows, “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” You let out a quiet hum, “Just to be sure.”

Nico discarded his half drank beer on the table, ignoring the several pairs of eyes that had been watching the two of you since they left, and gingerly placed his hands on your hips. He paused for a moment, taking the time to see if his touch made you uncomfortable, and it wasn’t until you wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the gap between the two of you that he felt confident enough to continue.

“I did get jealous,” He confirmed, pressing the pads of his fingers into your skin, “I don’t like the idea of you kissing someone that isn’t me. I never have.”

“Why did you never say anything,” You bluntly asked through a surge of courage.

“You seemed pretty set on us being just friends when the guys would say something,” He gloomily admitted, his accent thick with emotion, “I didn’t think you wanted more.”

You can’t help but let a quiet, amused chuckle slip past your lips as you shook your head in disbelief. While you had always assumed Nico was clear on his stance to just be friends, he thought it was you.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” You smiled up at him, “We’re stupid. We should’ve just talked to each other and we could’ve avoided so much.”

“Yeah,” He deeply sighed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was caught off by the music stopping and someone announcing that it was thirty seconds to midnight. Everyone began to rush to their respective partners, or to grab their loud poppers filled with confetti.

“So,” You drawl, tightening your grip in Nico as you lean into him, “Wanna be my New Years kiss?”

He nudges your nose with his own as he mumbles, “Can I be your everyday kiss instead?”

“I think we can work something out.”

#youvegotmail!📥#from: anon #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb

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callme-holly · 3 days ago

Note

hey! could i possibly have a meetcute with the gang?? like, how you would meet everyone?

and if not (or this as well if you want to) the gang confessing?

sorry i’ve never done this before loll but i LOVE ur writing!!!!

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 [𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞]

𝐚/𝐧: merry christmas y'all!!

Darry Curtis:

You and Darry met each other at the local store. You were shopping for groceries while Darry had popped in after work to grab some last minute things for dinner. He was in a rush and wasn’t looking where he was going and, in that classic romance movie style, he ran right into you. He was incredibly apologetic and helped you pick up all of your things, even going as far as carrying them to the checkout for you. Whilst he’s helping you, you both get to know each other and he ends up inviting you to dinner in a panic.

“Look… I know we’ve just met each other and everything, but do you maybe wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night?” You’re a little taken aback, closing your truck slowly before turning to face him. “Yeah… Yeah sure, why not. Lets see if your cooking is as good as you say.”

Sodapop Curtis:

You were new to town and decided to stop off at the local DX to get some gas for your car. When you pulled up, Soda was already outside working on another car, flashing you a bright grin as he came over to help you. You both got talking, and soon you were both laughing and joking with each other until Steve came out to hurry Soda along. Before you could leave however, Soda stopped you and asked for your number, which you gladly gave him, telling him to call you when he finished his shift.

“Woah, wait… You got a number I could have maybe… I mean if you want to give it to me.” You laugh softly, grabbing a receipt from your dashboard and scribbling your number. “Here. Maybe I’ll let you come see the new house when we’re settled.”

Ponyboy Curtis:

You and Pony both shared an English class and just so happened to get sat next to each other one term. He was a little shy and a little awkward at first but it didn’t take long for you to both start up conversation, bonding over different literature and poetry. It wasn’t until you started finishing each other’s sentences that he realised he might be a little more than smitten with you. After class, he catches you at your locker and asks if you want to come over to work on a “project,” which you of course agree to.

“So, uh– I was thinking we could maybe work on that essay at my place. Together?” You raise a brow at him, nodding. “Alright, Curtis. I’ll be there at 5.”

Johnny Cade:

You’re walking home when you see Johnny being picked on by a group of socs. Whilst you’re not particularly tough, you decide to intervene, defending him until the group leaves. Your boldness surprises Johnny, and he thanks you quietly, choosing to walk you the rest of the way to your house. The two of you chat idly the whole way, and when you finally reach your gate, you choose to invite him in, offering to get him something to eat or drink.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. Most people wouldn’t…. Look, can I get you somethin’ to say thanks? A soda or a milkshake or…” You shake your head, silencing him. “Just come inside and talk with me.”

Dallas Winston:

Your dad was the chief of police, and you just so happen to encounter Dallas whilst delivering lunch to your father. He was sitting in your dad’s office and flashed you a cocky little smirk the second you walked in, letting out a low whistle, and throwing little comments in your direction. Your dad, of course, doesn’t agree with Dally’s sudden interest, however, you find yourself falling for the greaser’s charm and end up slipping him your number when your father isn’t watching.

“Well look at this… You’re way too sweet to be hangin’ round a place like this, doll.” You roll your eyes, handing your dad his lunch. “This is my father’s office.” You smile sweetly, chuckling at the way Dallas’ jaw drops slightly.

Steve Randle:

Steve catches sight of you when he sees you struggling to start your car in the school parking lot. He watches for a little while before deciding to step in and offer you a hand, his easy-going charm instantly winning you over. As he fixes up your engine, you can’t help but laugh at every little joke he tells, and you both fall into conversation easily. Once your car is fixed up, he gives you his number and tells you to call if you ever need help again. What he didn’t expect was you to call him that night asking if he wanted to go for a milkshake the next day.

“Your car broken again?” Steve chuckles, leaning against the wall, twirling the phone cord. You huff a laugh. “No. Just wanted to talk to you.”

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two noticed you getting heckled by some boys at the drive-in and decided to step in, cracking jokes and pretending to be your boyfriend until they left. However, he ended up staying with you even after they were long gone, the two of you firing teasing comments at each other and laughing together for the rest of the night. By the time you had to go, he offered to drive you home. Once you finally reached your house, you turned to him with a smile, kissed his cheek in thanks, and offered to go out together again.

“You really wanna go out with a guy like me, baby?” Two raises a brow at you, his eyes a little dazed as you nod. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’re sweet. Pick me up at 7 tomorrow night.”

#the outsiders x reader #darry curtis imagine #darry curtis headcanons #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston x reader #dallas winston imagine #steve randle x reader #johnny cade x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #soda curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #pony curtis x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader

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lxdymoon0357 · 21 hours ago

Note

If you have the time, would it be possible for you to write something about the reader and Phineas being in an arranged marriage? Could be a headcannon or a oneshot.

(Warnings: mentions of poisoning.)

Arranged and strange..and jealous..?

Phineas Lapileon was your dear husband, one you could actually stay on civil terms with..Of-course it was hard to actually be friendly, with his strong walls around him to refuse to let anyone in who is not his family, it was as if the entire family did not like anyone aside from their members.

Phineas was your darling husband, you adored him sure..wanted to be romantic, yes...But sadly, like his beauty, it was forbidden to have his heart it seemed, being on cold terms with you.

Asking him to go somewhere with you, it left simple but rather scathing news, "Do whatever you like, dear...I don't care, really" he'd say with a simple polite smile

But once in a while, his smile would be there, a compliment here and there, a kiss to your lips...

It was nice, it was some of the only time you actually felt like you were married to him, you knew it was rather pathetic to hold onto him if his feelings were there for someone else, but he kept civil terms with you.

Of-course conversation to conversation, Pereshati said it had something within family secret but she wasn't allowed to tell you more than that. Lapileons also mostly kept to themselves..

But Lapileons have to show face, being one of the most noble families in the empire, it was only polite.

So of-course you were there, decorated like a real-life doll with expensive clothes and jewellery, making conversations with some noble-man who was rather flattering, smiling sweetly to you,

"Well, it's not quite common to find someone to gorgeous in the empire, beauty is common..but stunning ethereal one likes yours? Rather rare..!" the man whispered, making you almost giggle..No usual how someone was this kind, as you thank them for their compliments, feeling your heart also flutter.

Phineas stood aside, downing his third glass of alcohol, Therdeo and Pereshati beside him, both of them rather concerned but ignored it..talking with other nobles to seem polite, while Phineas' eyes bore into the back of your head with the man,

"Do wherever you want..Why would you want to be with me? I'm just strange..."

That was all his mind ran on, as he watched you giggle with the man, so much happier than you ever seemed with him... Of-course it's not too long,before he actually walks over to lean over and gently kiss your lips all of a sudden,

"Dear, family is calling us" he whispered with a gentle smile making you smile back and butterflies produce in your tummy. Phineas gently helps you up with his gloves hand, his other hand was ungloved, but he kept picking at his nails with his thumbs.

As you two are walking away, he hears a little clang as the man drops his fork. As you walked ahead, he smiles turning back to the man, picking up with fork with his hands, and hands it back to him, before hissing softly,

"Don't you suppose it's rather pathetic to flatter someone else's wife? Are you really that alone and desperate? Please stop acting like a pig." he said to the man bluntly, glare in his eyes but as Phineas leaned back a small sweet smile graced his lips as he handed the fork back to the man.

Upon sitting in the carriage, Pereshati and Therdeo in another carriage, Phineas' hands stay lingering on yours as he leans his head on top of yours, being rather abnormally tall..As he fitted the other glove on his hand, smiling. Smiling softly as he gently kissed your forehead,

"my darling wife." he whispers, as you giggle and lean against him..It was rather nice when his walls fall down for you, as you gently kiss his lips, making Phineas smile, but not from the kiss...

Phineas can almost hear the cry of the man gasping for breath from the poison in his throat from Phineas's nail where he made himself bleed by picking at it in his head..and it's rejuvenating.

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phoenixeclipse-lmkau · 2 days ago

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Hello, I just recently found your stuff, but I love it soooo much. I always look forward to reading your stuff on my breaks at work.

This is my first ask, so I'm so sorry if I have done it wrong. But how would the warlords react to a reader who instead of rejecting their affection because of the normal reasons, she rejects them because she genuinely thinks they deserve someone better and more fitting to be their queen and you know, not a human, because she thinks very little of herself because she came from a bad home with like a mean dad who was verbally and mentally abusive with the prompts 9 and 17.

- a bookworm with taste

P.s. I love the cursed warlords au it's so fun to read :)

The way you asked this is perfectly fine! However, since it includes prompts from the list, I actually categorize this as a request. Not a problem at all, I like requests! So the Request would be Prompt 9 and 17 for Cursed Warlords AU! I love the extra tidbits with this! And since this au already has a specific dynamic I keep it as that dynamic! Even if not prompted that way~ You did NOT specify which prompt we were talking about. Because there are Dialogue prompts and word prompts. I’m going to go with the dialogue prompts because that’s what I THINK you’re talking about… But next time if you request something please specify, I don’t want to do the wrong thing. Regardless THANK YOU for the request! Dialogue Prompt 9. “A peach for our sweet flame.”

Dialogue Prompt 17. “You’re here because I want you to be.”

Three weeks, it’s been three weeks since you’ve been trapped on the island with Wukong and Macaque. You’ve rejected them so many times… why don’t they understand? Why don’t they understand that nothing good will come of them keeping you here? You are a mere human woman, nothing like the others that they could have. They could have anyone they wanted, so why were they keeping YOU here?

You sighed as you sat silently at a small table in the garden. Your favorite flowers were blooming at your feet, when were they moved into the Kings’ personal garden? You could have sworn that you’ve never seen them here before.

“My Queen, there you are~ You had me worried you tried to ‘escape’ again~” Wukong’s voice practically sang through the air.

You turned your head to look at him but didn’t say anything. He looked so happy to see you, his face clearly beaming as he happily skipped over to you. His tail wagging as he took a seat in front of you. He leaned forward in his seat holding his cheek with his hand while his elbow rested on the table.

“…” You weren’t sure what to say.

You felt a warmth radiate behind you and a peach was held out to you as Macaque wrapped his arm around you, holding the peach in his hand. You stared at it in shock, your eyes widening in shock.

“A peach for our sweet flame~” He grinned happily catching you off guard.

“I-I don’t need it,” You muttered quietly, why should they give you such things? They didn’t need to personally bring you food.

You couldn’t stop looking at the table in shame. You didn’t belong here, there was no way that they actually cared about you. You wanted to leave, you didn’t deserve any of this. You couldn’t stop downgrading yourself no matter how much you tried to stop.

“Why’s that?” Wukong asked, his smile turning into a slight frown at your rejection.

“You can have it, but- I don’t deserve it,” You muttered quietly and almost immediately there were two warlords slamming their hands to the table. Macaque almost crushed the peach in his anger but barely managed not to.

“What the hell are you talking about!?” Wukong yelled angrily at the mere mention of you not being good enough.

“There is no reason for you to think of something so stupid! You are more than worth it darling,” Macaque added quickly, pulling you close to him as he nuzzled against your face.

“No- I don’t. There is no reason for you two to keep me here, truly,” You responded slowly, as you looked down again.

You were forced to look up again when Wukong gripped your chin and gently pulled it up so you were looking straight at him. “You are here, because I want you to be. We want you to be. We love you for you, and you more than deserve it,” Wukong replied calmly looking at you with a stern gaze.

Your eyes widened in shock at his words. He didn’t mean that did he? There was no way that he actually meant that- However the longer you stared into his eyes, the more you came to realize that yes, yes he did mean it. You turned to look at Macaque for a different answer, but he too held the same resolve in his gaze.

They both loved you and wanted you to stay. All you had to do was eat the peach that they offered you~ Not that you knew it would bind you to them eternally~

#dead dove do not eat #sun wukong x macaque #yandere sun wukong #yandere macaque #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #shadowpeach x reader #Request #cursed warlords au #cursed warlords lmk au #Yandere content #writing prompts #slight angst #angst

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lady-pug · 2 days ago

Text

The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers

Chapter I - Wherever We Go, A Hundred Eyes Follow

Summary: Aemond seeks you out so you can go on your first study "date" together, but you have yet to speak to Oscar about what happened the previous night and the agreement you made. But as things go better than expected, you might just end up attracting more attention than you'd prefer

Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader

Word count: 3,4k

Warnings: none

Notes: Oof, okay here we are, finally! I wanted to get this done sooner but got caught up in a lot of stuff and ended up writing quite slowly, BUT I did manage to get it out before the year ended so that is that.

I’m quite excited for this story, and have quite a bunch of ideas for where I’m going with this. The only thing I think is worth adding in terms of additional context for this chapter is that I decided to keep the fact that the Targaryens are dragonlords and can ride dragons. But because of that I cannot add any dragons to the Tournament Tasks, as it would be seen as unfair and possibly count as an advantage to Aemond.

Anyway, as always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, happy holidays, and I’ll see you all next year! Enjoy!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

You were fucked. There was no sugarcoating it. You were absolutely fucked.

After Aemond had left the library, leaving you behind to pick your jaw off the floor, you headed straight to the Hufflepuff common room. You were determined to tell Oscar everything that had happened down to a T, but you took one look at him, staring at you with that sweet and hopeful gaze and immediately chickened out, opting to quickly retreat to the girls dorm where he couldn’t reach you.

And now as you headed for breakfast you knew you should have told him. You had agreed to breakfast with Aemond, which meant he would come find you and Oscar would find out you had agreed to Aemond’s stupid plan when you had promised him you wouldn’t. Perhaps it would be easier to search for Aemond directly at the Slytherin table, that way you could stave off the inevitable conversation you would need to have with your brother.

But he was nowhere to be found. Not at the Slytherin table, nor those of the other houses. Not even near the professor’s table where he would sometimes walk up to in order to strike up conversation with one professor or another (what they talked about was beyond you, no matter how curious it made you). He was absolutely nowhere to be seen, throwing a wrench in your plans to intercept him before he could find you.

Resigned, you walked slowly to the Gryffindor table where Davos and your brothers were already seated. Considering that both Cregan and Alysanne were also seated at their house’s table, quite a few seats down from the three boys, you suspected Kermit and Davos had chosen to seat there for your sake, to simultaneously keep the couple out of your sight and avoid a situation like the night before but also not to force you to stay within close proximity of them. You were thankful really, while Cregan was not the first thing on your mind at the moment it still stung to see them being happy together.

“Hey!” Kermit greeted you, his mouth full of sausage “How are you on this fine morning?”

You knew he was trying to divert your attention from some people, and while it wasn’t entirely working, you were grateful for his attempt, for him. For all of them.

“Eh,” you shrugged trying to appear nonchalant while taking a seat across from him and Kermit “could be better.”

Oscar waited until you were comfortable next to him and had already filled up your plate before leaning ever closer to you.

“So, how was it?” he spoke, his voice low.

“How was what?”

Oscar scoffed, a deadpan stare thrown your way.

“You know, the whole thing with Targaryen?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, fear gripping at it as you pondered your answer. Oscar was going to be so disappointed when he found out. God, you didn’t want to lose the respect of one of the few people who you had left. You sighed, deciding it was better to tell him now than let him figure it out on his own later.

“Uhm, actually-” you started, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

“Lads,” Aemond’s voice cut you off, your name rolling smoothly off his tongue before pointing to the spot on the bench next to you “is this seat taken?”

He didn’t even wait for an answer, already sliding in next to you way closer than necessary as the boys stared at him flabbergasted, their jaws dropping. Oscar was the only one who got over his surprise quickly, his eyes narrowing in your direction in a way you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind.

“Targaryen.” Kermit greeted coldly “You seem a bit lost, the snakes’ table is over there.”

“Tully,” Aemond answered in kind, although his tone carried less venom in comparison “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“And what could you possibly want here?” Davos chimed in.

Through their whole exchange you couldn’t properly focus, the feeling of Aemond sitting way too close to you pulling your attention away from the conversation at hand. His leg was flush with yours on the bench, the entire length of his thigh pressed against yours and his shoulder bumping into your own pulling your whole focus towards him.

“We are heading to Professor Orwyle’s class then we are going to study together.” your attention was pulled back into focus as Aemond said your name.

“You two? Study together?” Oscar was still more skeptical than Kermit and Davos.

“Yes,” the Slytheirn boy shrugged, nonchalantly, and for a moment you feared he was going to reveal your whole ruse but he surprised you even further “I promised to help her with her History of Magic studies and, in turn, she’ll help me brainstorm ideas for the first task of the Tournament.”

Oscar seemed unconvinced but let it slide in favor of eating his breakfast in peace, but one glare from him in your direction let you know that you had a lot of explaining to do later on. Your twin and your cousin seemed to get distracted by the mention of the Triwizard Tournament, starting to animatedly argue about past editions (or, in Kermit’s case, sulk, as he had applied for the Tournament and eventually lost the role of Hogwarts’ champion to Aemond, something he was still somewhat resentful about).

You tried going back to your breakfast, hell bent on not attracting any more attention back to yourself and your current incredibly awkward situation, but that quickly went out the window when Aemond leaned even closer to you, his breath fanning your ear.

“It seems Stark and his new girl are staring.” he whispered, and you could tell from his voice alone that his lips were turned up in a smirk.

And true to his word, both Cregan and Alysanne were staring at your little group, more specifically you and Aemond. Alysanne seemed a little weirded out by the whole exchange, but ultimately shrugged, going back to her cuppa. Cregan on the other hand looked positively bothered by the sight, his eyes narrowing even further as Aemond cheekily bumped his shoulder against yours, as if he had simply whispered a funny joke to you.

As much as you loathed to admit, and even though it went completely against what you had told Aemond last night, a bittersweet satisfaction started growing in your chest at the reaction you elicited from your ex-boyfriend. While you didn’t wish to make him jealous, you truly wanted nothing to do with the guy anymore, you didn’t mind shoving in his face that you had already moved on from him, that his actions didn’t bother you at all (even though in reality they did).

“I would say our little… plan is already working, don’t you agree?” Aemond continued whispering, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You hummed in agreement, finishing the rest of your breakfast in silence. You’d occasionally see Oscar glancing at you quizzically from the corner of your eye but he didn’t say anything else. You felt awful hiding things from him, but what could you do? Come clean to your brothers and cousin and just hope the rest of the Gryffindor table simply didn’t hear a thing? No, the less people knew your little stunt with Aemond was a ruse the better. You’d tell him later that night.

After you were both done eating, Aemond pulled you up and out of the Great Hall, regardless if your brother Kermit, who was usually your partner for Potions class, wasn’t finished yet.

“I’m sure he can partner up with Bracken for today’s class, can’t you Tully?” he asked, knowing full well your brother truly disliked Aeron on behalf of Davos.

You felt eyes on you all the way down to the dungeons; people from every house were staring at the two of you, the way Aemond’s palm rested on you just shy of the small of your back, pushing, no, guiding you forward. If this was an indicative of a pattern that would remain present the rest of your time together, you just knew it was going to be a long day.

It was, indeed, a long day.

During Professor Orwyle’s class the hairs on the back of your neck refused to go back to their usual position, a prickling sensation on the back of your mind telling you everyone was staring at you. And it wasn’t just your self-consciousness making things up in your head: more than once you caught another student glancing your way, quickly averting their gaze once they realized they’d been caught. The only one who was brave enough to keep on staring even after being noticed was Maris Baratheon, and by the glint in her eye you simply knew it couldn’t mean anything good.

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that being in the spotlight brought you. And Aemond? He didn’t seem to give a flying fuck.

“Stop fidgeting,” he said, completely unbothered as he led you through the hallways towards the library. The walk had been made even longer than usual for he had to take a detour to grab something from the Slytherin common room, giving other students ample opportunity to continue their scrutiny.

“Everyone is looking at us.” you spoke, voice lowered to try not to attract more attention to yourself.

“No, they aren’t.” he said, walking between rows of bookshelves and collecting an assortment of different books.

“Yes, they are!” you said in an exasperated whisper, trying to keep your voice down in order to not attract any attention from Professor Strong, the librarian (though rumor has it his true ambition was taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class over his brother).

“Then just don’t mind them.” he shrugged, turning around towards you and placing the ever growing pile of books on your arms with a sigh “Look, let them stare. The more people see us together, the more believable it becomes. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

No, that’s what you wanted! you thought, but given your feelings towards Cregan’s reaction this morning you knew he was right.

“Now stop worrying and go find us a table, I’ll be there in a second.” he was off before you could question him further, leaving you to carry the books to the nearest table.

Aemond returned quickly enough, carrying yet another book with him. This one though was unlike any you had ever seen before, its hardcover weathered, either from old age or from excessive use you couldn’t tell.

“What is that?” you nodded towards his hands.

He placed the tome on the table as he sat down in front of you, staring at you quizzically.

“A book?”

“I’m not stupid, dragonbrain, I know it’s a book!” you snapped at him, offended “I just meant which book.”

He hummed, amused at your snippiness, and pushed the book towards you.

‘Secrets Of The Dark Arts And How To Spot Them, by Archmaester Gyldayn.’ the cover read, and something dawned on you.

“This is from the Restricted Section.” you stated, to which he hummed in agreement, not bothering with a verbal response “How did you even get this?”

Aemond stared at you then, really stared at you, his one good eye settling on your face with such an intensity you had to look away. Something in the way he looked at you intimidated you now, whereas in the past, before, you felt safe under his gaze. Seen.

“I asked Mister Strong to open the Restricted Section for me.” he said casually, breaking his intense stare to flip over the pages of one of the other books he had selected.

“And he did? Just like that?”

His lips curled in the tiniest of smirks, but something about it felt… wrong. Bitter almost.

“The perks of dating his much younger step-sister I guess.”

Ah.

That made sense. You always suspected Alys Rivers was related to Professors Harwin and Larys Strong, but could never make the connection.

“Okay,” he stopped flipping the book, seemingly having found the page he was looking for. You weren’t going to probe any further, but if you had any intentions to, this was his way of signaling the previous conversation was over “We’ll start from the beginning.”

Glancing at the open book he turned towards you, you caught a glimpse of a familiar painting, three white-haired siblings atop their dragons with their wands raised.

“The Conquest?” you questioned, pulling the book from his hands “That’s First Year material.”

“I know, but it’ll be easier to catch up on the more recent content if you have a stronger base.” he explained, and although all he was saying made sense, it still vexed you somewhat.

“But I already know all of this!” you whined, immediately regretting it, for it made you feel childish. Once upon a time you had been sure he wouldn’t judge you for such a thing, but now? You barely knew him anymore.

“I know for a fact you doze off in almost all of Professor Mello’s classes.” he replied, smugly.

Something weird, a feeling you couldn’t quite place, stirred in your chest at the thought of him noticing you in class, but you quickly brushed it off.

“I didn’t pick this up from Mello’s class.” you countered, and his face fell for a moment.

Your summers leading up to your First Year were more often than not spent in the Targaryen’s household. At the time you were quite close with two of the white-haired siblings, Aegon considering himself too old for your childish antics and Daeron too young to join in yet. At the time you’d even go as far as to call Aemond your best friend, before Helaena inevitably took the title after… everything. Back then, he’d spend his days showing you paintings and illustrations of his ancestors, of Aegon I and his sister-wifes arriving from Old Valyria and founding Westeros as it was known today. Although the Targaryen family lost a lot of their former glory (even though they remained quite influential still), it was clear Aemond was proud of his roots, a glint in his eye whenever he mentioned most people from his bloodline.

He grew silent, as he couldn’t deny what you were saying. You wondered if you were wrong to bring this up, for you felt incredibly unprepared to open this specific can of worms right now, but it seemed the feeling was mutual, as he grabbed the book from your hands and propped it up on the table, the pages facing him so you wouldn’t peek.

“Alright then. If you say you already know all of this,” he smirked once more, and you started rethinking your choices leading up to this moment “how about a pop quiz?”

It wasn’t as bad as you were expecting. You managed to get through the whole of The Conquest without fumbling, all the way to when Aegon defeated the dark wizard Harren the Black in his castle, Harrenhal (which some believe was demolished, and Hogwarts was built on top of its ruins). After that point, though, the details started getting a little confusing, your mind jumbling dates and locations into an incomprehensible mess inside your head. Aemond then promised to help you study from then on out, little by little, three times a week.

“We have till the end of the year to turn you into a History of Magic expert,” he had said.

“Till Christmas, you mean.” you pointed out, remembering your previous agreement, to which he shrugged, humming a ‘whatever you say’ under his breath.

You started collecting your things, but paused when he didn’t follow suit, only picking up another book from the pile. Herbology.

“That’s certainly… an interesting selection.” you commented, only now noticing the different subjects all the books covered.

“I have some research to do.” he said, not taking his eyes off the page.

Something he had said earlier came to the front of your mind.

“She’ll help me brainstorm ideas for the first task of the tournament.”

“Is it about the first task?” you questioned, genuinely curious.

He hummed in agreement.

“Do you have any idea what it will be about?”

He shook his head with a sigh, finally looking up at you.

“I do have a hunch, but it’s fickle. A hypothesis really.”

“Do you need any help ‘brainstorming ideas’?” you quoted him.

He chuckled, amused.

“Next time perhaps. You did well today, you deserve your rest.” your cheeks felt warm under the praise, and you had to look away from him for a moment “But I will be taking you up on that offer. If I remember correctly, you used to be quite good at solving puzzles.”

It was strange, really, how much he still knew about you even after so long without speaking to one another. You’d have to get used to it again.

After saying your goodbyes you headed back to the Hufflepuff common room, a light feeling in your chest. The ‘study date’ had gone well, not at all as bad as you had predicted it would be, unashamed stares from other students aside. But then a cold, bitter guilt replaced that nice feeling, damping your mood slightly.

You had to tell Oscar. He deserved to know.

Feeling determined, then, you entered the common room, resolute in looking for your brother. But, (un)fortunately, you didn’t have to look very far, for you found him sitting in one of the couches facing the entrance of the common room, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

“How was your study date with Aemond Targareyn?” he questioned, his voice hard.

Panicking, you gripped his upper arm, not minding his yelps of pain as you pulled him to a distant corner, away from the other students.

“It wasn’t a date.” you hissed.

“No?” his voice held a hint of sarcasm “Because Kermit said you two were awfully close in class-”

“It wasn’t a real study date.” you interrupted him, keeping your voice down and mentioning for him to do the same.

“How so?” he still seemed mad, but at least now he was whispering as well “You just pretended to study?”

“No, the studying part was real.” you averted your eyes from him, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment “It was the date part that was fake.”

“Again, how so?”

Time to come clean.

“Yesterday Aemond asked me to…” it sounded stupid now that you said it outloud “pretend we’re going out together. And it will culminate in me being his date to the Yule Ball.”

“What?!” he squeaked, and you shushed him, worried about people overhearing your conversation “So he wants you to be his pretend girlfriend?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“And you agreed?!”

“I panicked, alright?!” you already felt stupid enough about your decisions without him scolding you like a child.

“What does he even get out of this?” he asked, exasperated “And what about Alys Rivers?”

“His admirers backing off, I think. And apparently they broke up over summer.” his jaw dropped “I know, surprised me too.”

His face softened a fraction, finally getting over the shock.

“And what’s in it for you?” his tone dripped concern, and you felt your heart clenching with love for your younger brother.

“I-I’m not sure, exactly. To show Cregan I’m no longer hung up on him? To prove to people I’m not pathetic?”

“You are not pathetic.”

“Sometimes feels like I am.” you shrinked into yourself a bit “You know how much it hurt.”

Oh, he knew. He was the one who found you after you had read Cregan’s letter, curled into a ball on your bed, clutching the roll of parchment to your chest as tears steadily ran down your cheeks.

“I know.” he placed a gentle hand on your arm “But do you think this is a good idea? This is Aemond Targaryen we’re talking about.”

You smiled at his worried face, ruffling his hair.

“I can look after myself, you know.” you grinned at the grimace that covered his face as he tried to fix the mess that you had made of his locks “It wasn’t all that bad today. And besides, it’s only until Christmas.”

He still seemed hesitant, but slowly nodded.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful with him.”

Your grin softened, pulling him in for a comforting hug.

“I promise.”

He squeezed you back and you knew everything would turn out okay in the end. You just had to endure it until Christmas.

Right?

Tag List:

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@bey0nd-1he-stars

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fic #slytherin!aemond targaryen x hufflepuff!reader #aemond targaryen x tully!reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hogwarts au

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