#they’re commenting on and reblogging and tagging MY post

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts XVII

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

After spending sometime with her brothers, Valaena makes a discovery.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Revelations, Brother/ SIster Teasing, Aegon Being A Menace, Mild Violence, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, P in V.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 6000

A.N - Bit of a fluffy/cheeky one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Jace and Luke strode purposefully through the corridors, their voices low but heated as they bickered.

“I went last time,” Jace argued, his dark brows furrowing. “It’s your turn to ask.”

Luke scoffed. “No, it was me, and I got the door slammed right  in my face.”

“No. That was me,” Jace countered sharply. “And, I also got called a bastard.”

“Well, so did I,” Luke snapped back.

Jace’s pace quickened as he turned to face his younger brother.

“What if we both go this time? Aemond can’t stop us both. Valaena is our sister. We’ll demand to see her. He can’t just keep her locked away forever.”

Luke tilted his head, considering. “That’s not a bad idea. Safety in numbers and all that-”

The two brothers quickly nodded in agreement as they neared the door that would lead them to Valaena and Aemond’s chambers.

However, their path was blocked by Lirri and Arro, who were sat nearby, guarding the entrance, as they played some sort of card game with each other.

Arro glanced up, his stoic face giving nothing away. “I wouldn’t go in there, if I were you.”

Jace frowned. “Why not?”

Lirri, smiled as she, leaned forward. “My lady and my lord are very busy.”

Luke blinked, tilting his head in slight confusion. “Busy doing what?”

Before Lirri could answer, a muffled yet unmistakable sound of pleasure came from behind the heavy oak doors.

Both boys froze in place as the noise repeated, louder this time.

Jace groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re at it again?”

Luke cringed. “How is that even normal?”

Lirri, clearly amused, grinned as she answered. “My lord has a ravenous appetite for my lady. He is very virile man-”

Jace grimaced. “I did not want to know that.”

Luke shook his head quickly. “Neither did I.”

Before either could continue, Aegon strolled into the hallway, a mischievous smirk plastered across his face.

He spotted Lirri, and his grin widened when she blushed and smiled back.

“What are you all standing around here for?” Aegon drawled, hands on his hips.

Jace cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “We were just—”

Another sound of pleasure, unmistakable and unabashed, spilled into the hallway.

Aegon burst into laughter. “So, my brother’s back to getting his end away, and you’re all standing here listening. You dirty little buggers.”

“Hey!” Luke protested. “That’s not true. We were coming to see if Valaena wanted to go dragon riding.”

Aegon arched an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “From the sounds of it, she’s already riding the dragon.”

Jace groaned in disgust. “You are so disgusting-”

“Me?” Aegon laughed. “You’re the ones standing here listening to your sister being fucked into the mattress.”

Luke turned the tables quickly. “And what are you doing here, then?”

Aegon’s smirk faltered for a moment as his gaze darted to Lirri and then to Arro.

“No reason. I-I was just-out for a walk.”

Luke let out a heavy sigh, clearly done with the entire situation. “Maybe we should come back later.”

Arro nodded slightly. “Might be best to give it an hour or two. Just to be certain.”

Jace blinked at him, incredulous. “Are you actually being serious?”

Lirri nodded cheerfully. “In Qarth, sometimes my lord would take my lady many times, until he very tired and needed many hours sleep-”

Luke stared at her in disbelief. “So they’ve always been like this?”

Lirri’s smile widened. “Oh, yes. My lord is not shy about the love he gives my lady.”

Jace tugged on Luke’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go. We’ll wait until later.”

“You coming, Aegon?” Luke asked.

Aegon muttered under his breath, “I would have been if you weren’t here.” Then, louder, he said, “No. I’ll finish my walk.”

As Jace and Luke trudged off, grumbling to themselves, Aegon exhaled in relief, glancing at Lirri.

“Thank the fucking gods. I thought they’d never leave.”

Lirri chuckled. “They’re nice boys.”

Aegon’s brow furrowed in mock offense. “And what about me?”

Lirri’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re a very naughty boy.”

Aegon seized her waist, pulling her close. “Maybe you should punish me then.”

Lirri glanced at Arro, who gave a small nod of approval.

Aegon’s grin grew wicked. “Arro may join us, if he wishes. As you know, I enjoy it when he does.”

Arro inclined his head. “As you wish my Prince-”

Without another word, the three slipped away toward Lirri’s chambers, leaving the hall outside Aemond and Valaena’s chambers blissfully quiet—save for the occasional muffled sound of passion behind closed doors.

Valaena watched Aemond for a moment, her fingers tracing the line of his cheekbone as his silver hair spilled across the pillow.

His serene expression as he slept, so free of the tension he recently carried, made her heart swell.

Leaning down, she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, brushing away a stray strand of hair.

He didn’t stir, merely exhaling a soft sigh of contentment.

With a small smile, Valaena turned to the bedside table where the moontea sat.

The smell made her nose wrinkle, but she lifted the cup, holding her breath as she downed the liquid in one gulp.

She grimaced, sticking out her tongue slightly as she muttered under her breath, “So gross.”

Setting the cup aside, she walked to the door, opening it just enough to poke her head out.

“Lirri?” she called softly.

No answer.

Valaena frowned. "Odd," she murmured before closing the door quietly.

Moving quickly but silently, she took a warm, damp rag from the washbasin and cleaned herself, ridding her skin of the evidence of her many vigorous encounters with Aemond.

Her insatiable husband was determined to make up for the weeks he had deprived them both due to his fears, and he had been unrestrained when they had returned to the Red Keep.

He took her many times with passion and ferocity in equal measure, his cock stirring as soon as he’d spilled his seed after every encounter, until he’d passed out from exhaustion.

Once refreshed, Valaena dressed herself in a comfortable gown and headed toward the nursery.

Rhaegar, Elaena, and Daenys were spending the day with Alicent, leaving only Aemon too check on.

She entered the room to find her youngest child still fast asleep, his tiny hand resting on the dragon egg nestled in his cradle.

This egg, gleaming with faint golden scales and red streaks, had been gifted from Syrax, her mother’s dragon.

It was a hopeful token, though it weighed heavily on her heart.

Neither her nor Aemond’s eggs had hatched in their youth, and they both knew the sting of disappointment as they were left on the ground as the others took to the skies.

Valaena prayed silently that Aemon would not have to endure the same fate, but upon closer inspection it would seem as though he would not, as she noticed a faint crack in the shell.

She let her hand hover over the shell, and she smiled as could feel the warmth and the unmistakable presence of life.

Leaning down, Valaena placed a soft kiss on his silver hair. “Dream sweetly, my little dragon, for you will also soar amongst the clouds alongside your brother and sisters-” she whispered.

Gently closing the door behind her, she turned to leave when a muffled scream caught her attention.

Her brows furrowed as the sound came from Lirri’s chambers.

Panic surged through her as she pushed the door open without hesitation.

The sight that greeted her made her freeze in the doorway.

Lirri sat in the centre of her bed, naked and flushed, her long hair dark falling in disarray around her shoulders.

“Oh, my gods-Lirri I’m so sorry I-AEGON?” shrieked Valaena.

“Good sister-” Aegon drawled, his grin widening as he folded both arms behind his head.

“W-What are you doing?” exclaimed Valaena.

“Errr-I think it’s fairly obvious what we were doing” said Aegon, moving his hips slightly, making Lirri gasp at the movement.

Arro quickly removed his hand from Aegon’s chest and scrambled out of the bed; his face red as he fumbled for his breeches.

“M-My l-lady-I-I apologise-” stuttered Arro.

Valaena’s violet eyes darted between the three, her voice faltering. “The three of you?”

Lirri covered her face with her hands, mortified, while Arro stood awkwardly, half-dressed, still stammering. “My—my lady, I-I-”

“How long has this been going on?” asked Valaena.

Aegon shrugged nonchalantly. “Couple of months, maybe?”

Valaena placed a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow. “And you join in with them?” she asked Arro pointedly.

The guard blushed extended to the tips of his ears. “Yes, my lady. Sometimes I join in and other times, I just watch-”

“Right, and I take it Lirri is the woman you was telling me about?”

Aegon nods “Yes, she is-important to me”

For a moment, there was silence, and then Valaena let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Well, I guess I’ll leave the three of you to it then.”

Lirri slid off Aegon’s lap, clutching the sheet around her as she rushed after Valaena.

“Wait, my lady, please let me explain!”

Valaena turned, smiling gently. “You don’t have to, I will admit that I’m a little shocked, but it’s fine”

Lirri hesitated. “You’re-you’re all right with this?”

“As long as you’re happy and safe, that’s all that matters,” Valaena replied sincerely.

Relief washed over Lirri’s face as she nodded. “I am very happy, my lady and safe-”

“I’m glad,” Valaena said warmly, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

From the bed, Aegon piped up, “You’re not going to tell my mother, are you?”

Valaena snorted, rolling her eyes. “Gods, no.”

Aegon let out a sigh of relief, lounging back with his arms behind his head again.

As Valaena reached the door, she paused, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Out of curiosity-” she began, turning to Lirri. “-Is Aegon, you know-good?”

Lirri’s face turned scarlet as she glanced at Aegon, then back to Valaena. “Very good, my lady.”

Valaena burst into laughter, waving a dismissive hand. “You and Arro are excused from your duties for the day. Enjoy yourselves, all three of you-”

She left the room giggling, her laughter echoing down the hall as the door clicked shut behind her.

The gentle sound of Aemon’s cries carried down the hall, immediately drawing Valaena’s attention.

She quickened her pace finding her son fussing in his cradle, his tiny hand still resting on the dragon egg.

Scooping him up, she held him close, murmuring soft reassurances as his cries settled into quiet whimpers.

Cradling Aemon against her chest, she made her way back to her chambers.

Pushing open the door, she found Aemond now awake, sitting in bed with his legs draped over the side, rubbing his face while wincing slightly as his fingers brushed too close to his left eye socket.

The sapphire embedded there glinted in the morning light, a stark contrast to his pale complexion.

“Are you ok?” Valaena asked, concern evident in her voice as she shifted Aemon to rest against her shoulder.

Aemond sighed, nodding faintly. “The sapphire, it’s irritating my eye socket a little today. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Valaena frowned and quickly moved toward the vanity, pulling out a soft cloth and a small jar of salve.

She also grabbed a bowl of clean water before turning back to Aemond.

“Here,” Aemond said, extending his arms toward her. “Let me take him.”

Valaena hesitated but then handed Aemon to his father.

Aemond took his son gently, pressing him against his bare chest.

Aemon immediately calmed, nestling into the warmth of his father’s skin, his tiny fist resting against Aemond’s collarbone.

“Lie back,” Valaena instructed softly.

Aemond reclined against the pillows as she approached with the damp cloth.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she dipped the cloth into the cool water and began to carefully dab around the edges of his scar and the sapphire.

Aemond hissed softly at first, but her touch was so gentle that the discomfort soon eased.

“How does it look?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

“A little red,” Valaena admitted. “I don't think it’s nothing to worry about, though.”

Aemond nodded, his hand absently stroking Aemon’s fine silver hair as the baby rested quietly on his chest.

“He seems content,” Valaena observed with a soft smile. “I think he enjoys the sound of your heartbeat.”

Aemond’s expression softened as he gazed down at his son. “I’m glad my children can find comfort with me,” he said quietly.

“You’re a wonderful father, Aemond,” Valaena said firmly as she set the cloth aside and began applying the salve to the reddened edges of his eye socket and along the scar. “I know you worry about it sometimes, but you truly are.”

“It’s not like I had a great example of what a father should be,” he admitted, his tone tinged with the bitterness of memory.

Valaena paused, her gaze meeting his as she gently worked the salve into his skin.

“As much as I loved my grandsire, I also hated him for how he treated you, your brothers, and your sister. No child asks to be brought into the world—it was his duty to guide you, to love you. And he failed you all.”

“I got used to it,” Aemond said quietly, though there was a flicker of pain in his voice.

“I once asked him why he loved my mother the most,” Valaena said, her voice soft but contemplative. “Even as a child, it was obvious how he favoured her. He told me it was because of Aemma—the guilt he carried for her death. My mother was the last piece of Aemma he had left.”

Aemond reached out, taking her free hand in his. “In part, I understand his grief-especially after I almost lost you.”

Valaena paused, her thumb gently brushing over his knuckles. “But he still should have been there for all of you, not just one of you.”

Aemond nodded silently, his grip tightening on her hand. “Do you know how much I love you?” he asked after a moment, his voice low but full of emotion.

Valaena smiled, leaning closer. “A lot, I hope.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and unguarded. “With every fibre of my being. I love you.”

She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. The moment was quiet, intimate, and full of unspoken promises.

And then Aemon let out a loud fart, his tiny face scrunching up as it turned a vivid shade of red.

Followed by a loud squelching sound.

Valaena pulled back with a startled laugh. “Well, I think someone’s cloth is soiled,” she said, as she lifted Aemon from his father’s chest.

Aemond leaned back against the pillows with a groan, folding his arms.

“Way to ruin the moment son,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose at the unmistakable smell.

Valaena laughed, bouncing Aemon gently in her arms as she laid him at the end of the bed.

“Don’t worry, my love. There will be plenty more moments,” she teased, flashing him a playful grin.

Aemond huffed but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips.

Valaena finished securing the fresh cloth around Aemon, who was now kicking his legs eagerly.

She leaned down, nuzzling his tiny tummy until he squealed with delight, his little hands reaching for her face.

Valaena grinned, her heart full as she placed soft kisses on Aemon’s face.

“You should know,” she said, glancing at Aemond, who had just finished getting dressed “Aemon’s dragon egg has cracked.”

Aemond’s single eye lit up with a rare, genuine smile. “It shouldn’t be too long before another hatchling joins us.”

“No,” Valaena agreed warmly. “-but speaking of hatchlings, we need to talk to Rhaegar about Sapphyre. He’s getting far too large to be staying in his chambers.”

Aemond sighed, folding his arms. “I know Rhaegar won’t like it, but perhaps it’s time for Sapphyre to be with Vhagar and Silverwing. He needs space to grow properly.”

Valaena carefully dressed Aemon in fresh clothes, smoothing the soft fabric over his tiny body. “I think Rhaegar fears that Sapphyre will be chained in the pit.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “I will not allow such a thing to happen. That place-it is not fit for dragons. Or any living creature, for that matter.”

Valaena nodded, meeting his determined gaze. “As you know, I hate that place too.”

Aemond stepped closer, his voice low but firm. “I swear to you, the hatchlings will never see chains. Not while I have breath in my body.”

Valaena’s expression softened, and she reached out to touch his arm. “I believe you, my love.”

Aemon let out a loud gurgle, his legs kicking energetically again. Valaena laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Someone’s eager to be on the move”

Aemond chuckled as he reached out and took Aemon into his arms, cradling him close. “How about I take this little one out flying with Vhagar?”

Valaena nodded, smoothing the baby’s hair. “Sure, I think he’d enjoy that. Oh—but before you go, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Aemond furrowed his brow. “What is it?”

She hesitated, then said with a wry smile, “I walked in on Lirri and Arro earlier-but they weren’t alone.”

Aemond’s expression shifted to confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Aegon was with them,” she said bluntly. “Seems the three of them are-a thing.”

Aemond blinked, then pursed his lips. “A thing, as in—”

Valaena nodded, cutting him off. “-Laying with each other. Yes”

Aemond exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “So that’s who he was talking about the other day-”

Valaena raised a brow. “You knew?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted, adjusting Aemon in his arms. “I knew he was involved in some kind of dalliance with a woman and a man. But I didn’t know it was Lirri and Arro.”

“Should we be worried?” Valaena asked, leaning against the edge of the bed.

“When it comes to Aegon, I’m always worried,” Aemond muttered. “I suppose the only thing we can do is keep an eye on it. And for the Seven’s sake, make sure Lirri drinks moon tea. I’ve accepted that my brother and sister have an understanding, but I won’t have Lirri birthing his child. He has enough bastards running around the streets of silk; he doesn’t need more.”

Valaena nodded. “I agree. But it’s not exactly ideal, especially if she wants a child with Arro.”

“That’s for them to sort out,” Aemond said firmly. “But I mean it, Valaena. I won’t have it.”

“I know,” she assured him, touching his arm again. “And I understand.” She smiled down at Aemon, who was squirming in his father’s hold. “Right—let’s get this little one ready. He’s clearly getting impatient and I said I’d help Aegon and Viserys with their high Valyrian-”

Aemond grinned, shifting Aemon to a more comfortable position. “Our little dragon. Is eager to get into the sky.”

Valaena laughed as Aemon gurgled in delight, his tiny fingers grasping at Aemond’s tunic. “He’s certainly determined-”

“Of course-”Aemond said with mock seriousness. “He’s my son, after all.”

The library was quiet except for the soft murmur of Valaena’s voice as she spoke in High Valyrian, guiding her younger brothers, Aegon and Viserys, through a lesson.

Aegon leaned forward, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he attempted to mimic her pronunciation.

Viserys, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the floor, doodling dragons in the corner of his parchment when he thought no one was looking.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Luke’s dark curly head popped through the gap. “Is it safe?” he asked cautiously, his eyes darting around the room.

Valaena laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Aemond has taken Aemon flying with Vhagar. You’re safe—for now.”

Luke’s face lit up. “Jace! She’s in here and finally free of Aemond!”

The door burst open as Luke came barrelling through, Jace trailing behind him with a less enthusiastic stride.

“Sister,” Jace greeted her with a grin, “It’s good to finally see you without your one-eyed—never mind,” he quickly corrected, catching the venomous glare Valaena shot his way.

Luke flopped into an armchair, his legs hanging over the armrest. “What are you doing?”

“Helping Aeg and Vis learn High Valyrian,” Valaena replied, gesturing to her brothers.

“Why didn’t Mother just ask Gerardys?” Jace asked, frowning. “He was the one who taught me.”

“Because he’s the Grand Maester,” Valaena said, rolling her eyes. “He has more important things to do. And if I recall, you didn’t actually finish learning the language of our forebears.”

Jace scoffed. “Just because Daemon taught you—”

“And Luke,” Valaena interrupted with a smirk. “You’re just lazy.”

Jace stuck his tongue out at her. “Am not!”

“Yes, you are,” Valaena shot back without missing a beat.

Jace sat up straighter, puffing out his chest. “Keligon lēda nūmāzma!” (Stop with mean).

Valaena exchanged a knowing look with Luke before sighing. “It’s actually Keligon issare nūmāzma, ao rōva mittys.” (Stop being mean, you big idiot).

Jace blinked. “Did you just call me a fool?”

“No,” Valaena said with a grin. “I called you a big idiot.”

Luke burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Sīr skorkydoso glaesā mandia?” (So, how are you sister).

Valaena smiled warmly. “Iksan sȳrī kirimvose.” (I am well, thank you)

“That’s not fair!” Jace grumbled, glaring at them.

“Well,” Valaena teased, “-If you had kept learning, you’d know what we were saying.”

Little Aegon, who had been following the exchange with wide violet eyes, giggled before chiming in. “Aōha sīr doru-borto rōva lēkia.” (Your so dumb, big brother)

Both Valaena and Luke burst into laughter as Jace glowered at his younger brother. “What did he just say?”

Viserys, still doodling, added helpfully, “Se ziry’s jiōraton quba ōghar.” (And he’s got bad hair).

That sent Valaena and Luke into another fit of laughter.

Jace scowled. “Ao aspo!” (You bitch),

“Oh, so you know what that means?” Valaena teased.

Jace crossed his arms. “I called you a bitch.”

“Yeah, I know,” Valaena replied with a smirk. “Duh-”

Aegon yawned, looking up at her. “Mandia, issi īlon tetan?” (Sister, are we finished?)

“Syt tubī kessa,” Valaena said gently. (For today, yes).

Viserys perked up. “Can we go play with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera now?”

“Of course, I’ll come with you-” Valaena said, standing and stretching. “I want to see Helaena anyway.”

Before the little ones scampered off, Jace slouched deeper into his chair, sulking. Valaena walked over and wrapped her arms around him from behind, ruffling his hair.

“Turn that frown upside down, little brother.”

“Pffft” muttered Jace still scowling.

Luke stood and stretched. “I think I’ll come with you with you as well”

Valaena nodded. “Are you coming, Jace, or are you going to keep throwing a tantrum like a little girl?”

Jace grumbled as he stood. “I don’t like it when you pick on me.”

“Now you know how Aemond felt when you used to do it to him,” Valaena said pointedly as they left the library.

���That wasn’t just me, you know!” Jace protested.

“Yes. I’m well aware of that,” Valaena said with a knowing smile.

Later that night, Valaena had just finished tucking her children into bed and was on her way out of Rhaegar’s chambers when a figure rushed past her, sobbing.

She barely caught sight of Lirri’s tear-streaked face before the young woman disappeared into her chambers.

Alarmed, Valaena turned and followed, pushing the door open to find Lirri crumpled on her bed, her body shaking with quiet, wrenching sobs.

Valaena approached and sat down beside her, resting a comforting hand on her back.

“Lirri, what’s wrong?” she asked gently.

Lirri sat up, her breath hitching as she wiped her face with trembling hands.

“Aegon has ended our involvement,” she managed between sobs.

Valaena frowned. “How come?”

“He said he worries his mother will find out,” Lirri said, her voice breaking.

Valaena let out an incredulous scoff. “A pathetic excuse. Since when has Aegon cared about his mother’s approval? He certainly didn’t when he busied himself with the whores on the Street of Silk.”

Lirri sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I love Arro very much. He’s kind and gentle, but I—I—”

Valaena’s expression softened. “You love Aegon too,” she finished for her.

Lirri nodded, her face crumpling again. “Yes. Very much.”

Valaena sighed, squeezing Lirri’s hand. “It’s a rather unique situation, that’s for certain.”

Lirri hesitated, looking down. “Are you ashamed of me, my lady?”

“Never,” Valaena said firmly, taking Lirri’s hand in both of hers. “How could you even think such a thing?”

Lirri lowered her gaze. “Because I do not act as a woman should.”

“And who decides how a woman should act?” Valaena asked, her voice sharp with disdain. “A man? Please. Most days they don’t know their arse from their elbow.” She softened her tone. “All I ask is that you’re being careful.”

“Careful, my lady?” Lirri asked, frowning.

“The customs in Westeros are vastly different from those in Essos,” Valaena explained. “I know Aegon has some kind of understanding with Helaena but—”

“Yes,” Lirri said. “He loves her like a sister, not a wife.”

“That may be so, but she is still his wife in the eyes of gods and men,” Valaena said. “Having his child would dishonour her.”

Lirri stiffened. “He’s sired children on other women before.”

“Yes,” Valaena admitted. “But given how close you and I are, it wouldn’t be fair to Helaena to have her husband’s illegitimate child living in the Red Keep.”

Lirri’s face burned with shame. “Have no fear, my lady. Aegon does not spill his seed inside—”

“That’s something, at least,” Valaena muttered. “But what else did Aegon say to upset you so?”

Lirri hesitated, her voice trembling. “He told me he had fun but that it’s over. And then he became cruel and called me he called me a byka līve.”

Valaena’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing with fury. “Oh, Did he, now? We’ll see about that.”

Before Lirri could stop her, Valaena shot to her feet and stormed out of the room.

Ignoring Lirri’s frantic calls, she marched through the Red Keep, her anger bubbling hotter with every step.

When she reached Aegon’s chambers, she didn’t knock. She shoved the door open, finding him mid-conversation with Aemond.

“You!” she shouted, pointing at Aegon.

Aegon turned, startled, but had no time to respond before Valaena barrelled toward him.

She knocked him to the ground and climbed on top of him, her fists flying as she struck any part of him, she could reach.

“You dare call her a little whore?” Valaena snarled, her words punctuated by punches. “The only whore around here is you—rude, selfish, arrogant, pig!”

Aegon giggled through the chaos, half-laughing, half-wheezing.

Aemond finally stepped in, wrapping his arms around Valaena and pulling her off. She struggled against him, still thrashing.

“No! You don’t understand—he needs to suffer!”

“What has he done?” Aemond asked, his voice calm but firm.

“He ended his involvement with Lirri and called her a little whore,” Valaena spat. “I won’t have it—I won’t!”

Aegon groaned as he climbed to his feet, rubbing his jaw. “I’m sorry, all right?”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, you vicious little CUNT!” Valaena shouted, lunging again.

This time, she wrapped her hands around his throat, shaking him.

“Valaena” exclaimed Aemond, his arms folded across his chest, watching with mild amusement.

“You will go to her, you will apologize, and you will do whatever it takes to make her happy again. Do you hear me?”

Aegon gasped, clawing at her hands. “Aemond—help—get her off me!”

But Valaena released him on her own, shoving him away.

Aegon staggered back, coughing and rubbing his neck. “Gods,” he wheezed. “You really are strong.”

Valaena stepped forward again, ready to pounce, but Aemond quickly grabbed her. “Whoa there, my feisty dragon, that’s enough-”

Valaena struggled briefly against Aemond’s vice like grip, but then relented.

Aegon straightened, still catching his breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I-I just got scared.”

“Scared of what?” Valaena snapped. “We’re not going to say anything.”

“Y-You’re not?” Aegon asked, eyes wide.

“No,” Valaena said firmly. “I would never allow harm to come to Lirri—or Arro, for that matter.”

Aegon sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I love her. Gods, I love them both.”

“Then go make it right,” Valaena said, her voice low and dangerous. “Or so help me, I’ll cut you from cock to throat.”

Aemond smirked faintly. “Better do as she says, brother, she’s serious-”

Aegon nodded quickly and fled the room.

As the door slammed shut, Aemond turned to Valaena, his expression dark and intense.

He grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall, pressing his body against hers.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

“Watching you kick the crap out of Aegon was-incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Valaena smiled, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. “Oh, really?”

“Made my blood hot,” Aemond admitted, leaning closer, before capturing her lips in a ferocious, searing kiss.

Without breaking contact, Aemond gripped her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, pressing her against the cool stone wall.

Her hands flew to his shoulders, anchoring herself as her breath hitched, her body heating under his touch.

Aemond’s hand slid down her side, rough and eager, while his other braced her firmly against him.

His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, nipping and kissing the sensitive skin of her neck as she arched into him.

“Aemond,” Valaena breathed, her voice shaky yet teasing.

His eye, dark with desire, met hers as he rasped, “Hmm?”

“Are we really doing this in here?” she asked, her lips curling into a faint smile despite her breathlessness.

“Why not?” Aemond murmured, his voice gravelly and thick with longing.

His hand reached between them, fumbling with the ties of his breeches.

Valaena laughed softly, her cheeks flushed, as her fingers tangled in his long silver hair, tugging lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he retorted, capturing her lips again with fervent intensity, his body pressed hard against hers, the tension between them crackling like wildfire.

Aemond’s hand then moved beneath her dress and with a sharp tug, he tore her smallclothes away, the fabric ripping with a sound that echoed in the room.

Valaena gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh gods, Aemond,” she breathed.

Aemond growled low in his throat, his hand moving to guide himself.

Without hesitation, he thrust into her in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. Both of them cried out, their voices mingling in the air between them.

Aemond wasn’t gentle. His movements were raw, driven by an all-consuming need.

Each thrust was powerful, stealing her breath and leaving her clinging to him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips moving in time with his as they chased the same desperate rhythm.

“Valaena-fuck-” he murmured against her neck, his voice rough and low.

The sound of her name, spoken with such intensity, sent a shiver through her.

Her hands moved to his back, her fingers pressing hard.

“Aemond, don’t stop-oh gods” Moaned Valaena, her head falling back against the wall.

The tension coiling between them threatened to snap, the sheer intensity of their passion overwhelming.

He kissed her again, his lips bruising and fierce, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

“You’re mine,” growled Aemond against her mouth, his hips driving into hers with a possessive fervour that left no doubt of his claim.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking as her body tightened around him. “Always.”

“Tell me how it feels” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes, don’t stop-oh god. Please-please-”

Valaena praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her.

“Aemond, please, I’m close, so close” whimpers Valaena.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs her pearl in slow circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet cunt–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.

Valaena peaks with a loud, scream, her body shuddering.

Aemond then shifts his hold on Valaena, pulling her away from the wall without breaking their connection.

He carried her to Aegon’s bed, laying her down against the dishevelled sheets.

His hips snapping against hers with unrelenting force.

Valaena’s hands roamed over his back, her fingers clutching at his tunic as she arched into him.

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, her voice teasing as she gasped, “Fucking your wife in your brother’s bed, Aemond? Really?”

Aemond chuckled, his laughter low and rough. “Oh well,” he said, smirking as he hooked her legs over his shoulders, driving deeper. “I’ll send him new sheets as a gift.”

The humour in the moment only heightened the passion between them, but then Aemond’s eye caught on something sitting on the bedside table—a smooth, carved wooden object.

Aemond’s rhythm faltered for the briefest moment as he frowned. “What the hell is that?”

Valaena followed his gaze, her cheeks flushing faintly as she realized what he’d seen.

She quickly tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his face back down to hers. “Best not think about it,” she whispered, her voice sultry as she claimed his lips in a searing kiss.

Aemond resumed his relentless pace, his hips slamming into hers.

“Are you close my sweet?” asked Valaena, her teeth nibbling Aemond’s neck.

“Gods yes. I’m close. Fuck-Valaena” groaned Aemond.

“That’s it. Let go”

“J-Just a little longer-fuck I’m going to-” groans Aemond as he slams into Valaena before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moved Valaena’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes, his cock still twitching.

“I-I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. Gods, I-It was so wonderful” exclaimed Valaena, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Valaena’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise.

Aemond then leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.

He then lays down on the bed, pulling Valaena close to him.

After a few minutes, Aemond’s curiosity got the better of him as his eye returned to the offending wooden object. His brow furrowed in obvious confusion.

“Valaena, what is that thing?” he asked, his voice tinged with equal parts irritation and intrigue.

Valaena groaned, dropping her head back onto the pillow in exasperation. “Aemond, you really don’t want to know-”

Aemond then had an inclination of what it was and wrinkled his nose, glancing back at it with a grimace.

“Gods, my brother is such a deviant,” he muttered, his expression twisting between disgust and begrudging amusement.

Valaena burst into laughter, grabbing Aemond’s face and pulling him in for a kiss. “Forget about it, my love,” she murmured against his lips, her tone soothing but with a playful edge.

With a small sigh of resignation and a shake of his head, Aemond kissed her deeply. “Fine. But I’m having that thing burned later.”

Valaena bit her lip to stifle her laughter. “Good luck explaining that to your brother and Lirri-”

TBC.

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 52

What the hell happened when i was coloring this one- Oh hi there! Looks like today we’ve got ourself more of Junko showering Mikan in affection!~ 

I don’t know why it looks like I had a live sturgeon slammed into my spinal cord while I colored it but that’s neither here nor there.

I’m writing this post on Day 31, so here’s a time traveling HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I also want to take this opportunity again to say thank you all so much for the kind words you leave on these posts, it all really adds up to help me stay in fighting shape to keep working on art and really balances out on the amount of energy I burned up during the 9 months making this project.

I’ve probably yapped about this before, but I’m not fuckin crosschecking 51 previous days to double check, but if I have any goals with this project it’s this.

A!. Give back to the small community of people who’ve kept me fed with either their fanart or fanfic for this highly niche version of the ship. I think you all have a pretty good idea of who you are in specific but I can’t emphasize enough that this project wouldn’t be happening without ya’ll making my brain deep fry in my skull from the levels of obsession I had for these two getting to be happy. This is my thanks to ya’ll! 

And

B!. I do this in the hopes that it’ll inspire people to make more art of these two, whether drawn or in a literary sense. My hope would be soft given what I’ve been doing for this project, but even if it ends up laying a bit outside my lane it’ll do my heart good to know I inspired anything at all with what I’ve been doing here. And hey, is this partially influenced by the fact that I’m really desperate for more junkan art because there’s only so much my hands can do before they break?

. . . maybe! But while I may be a greedy woman, I’m an artist first and foremost!~ It is my primary goal and desire to bring joy to the masses and inspire the artistic hearts of people everywhere, whether it be people who’ve been in this game longer than I, or people who were like me and hid away in the shadows taking in the current amount of Junkan in the world and eternally spinning it in their mind!

And the funnier third option, the people who randomly came across this and accidentally found out that they’re really into this, y’know like me. But that’s a story for another day!~ . . . and by that i mean like day 98 yeah you’re not getting the proper origin story for awhile.

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[catras-breakup-song]

i’m not gonna lie… i’m lost here. is this supposed to be an 4nt1/cr1t1c4l post? if so, i genuinely don’t understand the point being made.

is it that playful banter is a bad thing? is it that being too hands-on violates unspoken boundaries? the message is so unclear to my autistic ass…

oh, wait, OP provided tags:

so aside from the fact that they are absolutely not sisters by default, least of all canonically (even if you do interpret them that way somehow), nor was it ever intended by nate stevenson, i’m still having trouble figuring out how this is problematic.

in which ways is lighthearted touch totally contradictory to passionate kissing/caressing? why can’t partners who are dating do both, especially in different cultural environments such as the horde where intimacy is discouraged and friendly sparring with familiar peers is a safe expression? if it’s so different, what are we as the audience supposed to interpret from their style of physical affection by the final season? side note, but aren’t we supposed to consider the latest version of anything in general as the most accurate?

now i have a question lol, did you take this moment literally at her word, and all the other times she repeated it?

also, my friend just pointed out that this is the classic homophobic talking point of "they seem to just be very good friends! they were roommates!" lmao. i've never agreed with accusing anyone who cr1t1c1z3s catradora of lesbophobia, which i'm not doing necessarily, because that's simply not how it works, however i found this funny and partially true so i'm keeping it in.

the lip bite was included unintentionally 👀

anyway, as i’ve discussed on this blog before, i’m very arospec and it’s inseparably intwined with my identity itself; i also project that onto catra. something we often bring up in that community, is romance-favorability (as its own spectrum of range all the way to blatant repulsion btw) — which is a personal preference that’s defined as exactly as it sounds like and occasionally revolves around fictional depiction as separate from one's own reality — and arguably more importantly, amatonormativity — which is an arbitrary set of rules for romantic expectations set up by an alloromantic society. this is typically thought of as common denial of the idea that someone could actually want to separate themself from needing a life partner in marriage, but can very much be applied to an annoying list of what draws the line between romantic & platonic relationships. that line is very individualistic and is to be decided on such a level only, and it doesn’t even get into what queerplatonic means, a concept saved for another day!

my point is, the OP seems to be trying to claim that catradora objectively cannot be read as romantic because their dynamic growing up & early-on in the story doesn’t perfectly meet socially-constructed standards of what that should look like. i say we need to eradicate those standards altogether! it’s up to catradora to decide what they are, if anything specific at all, not us as the audience — assuming they could’ve had the words at their disposal to knowingly describe it. going back to my earlier paragraph above about how limited they were in the fright zone, i’ll borrow a quote from a comment i made on one of my recent reblogged posts (which is a great meta on how their mutual desire was uh... definitely not platonic):

"Catra and Adora’s desire for one another is shown in a variety of ways, mostly indirect. There are a lot of glances - until season 5, not the kind of open leering at one another that we’d seen between other characters. Mostly it’s fairly playful - wiggled or cocked eyebrows, glances at each other while smirking, that kind of thing, or really intense and somewhat angry glares when they’re fighting."

it's really bothering me that i can't recall where i read this from before, but someone analyzed before how, growing up, catra & adora didn't have a good sense of how to label their relationship with accurate terminology despite being subconsciously aware that they, whether they knew the other reciprocated or not, loved each other "like that." unfortunately, they couldn't further explore it because such love & affection was seen as a punishable weakness in the horde, so they resorted to the only safe option they seemed to have, which was subtle body language and play-fighting as [testudoaubrei-blog] described above.

also, since this screenshot is included in that post... i would be amused to read an explanation of how THIS LOOK from catra is "platonic with a capital P", because i'm not even sure if it's up for debate to be quite honest with you:

ESPECIALLY with the "i always have!" line (which 4nt1s like to doubt, but i don't care, it's official!):

[mearchy]

How come people whose DNI lists I’m on will interact with me. You’re going to file a restraining order and then walk into my house? Reblog my post with an addition but I cannot boost it because you rail furiously about how you want blogs like mine nowhere near you? Must I go to the trouble of reading your DNI and respectfully not engaging, and you will not even read my bio to see that I am one of the ones you prefer to suicidebait on anon before you decide to write a soliloquy in my tags?

[kiwisandpearls]

as much as I understand people who lament over the decline of people who reblog stuff, and I say this in the nicest way possible:

the way some of you talk about this makes it sound like fewer people choosing to reblog fandom works on tumblr killed your grandma

[moxie-girl]

having an ena shinonome kinnie moment rn (posted a piece of art that got 3 likes and am abt to snap bc of it)

[catwingsthespatula]

My sister puts glasses away upside down.

Because our mother does,

Because her mother did,

Because her mother lived through the Dust Bowl.

One day my father sat me down and told me about epigenetics.

How the trauma he went through

As a child in an abusive home

Wrote itself into his DNA

And, in turn, into mine.

How he and his brothers,

In various ways,

Are all sick from it.

How I might be too, someday,

And I’m not sure I’m not.

I hear people say,

When will we get back to normal?

And I think of a woman born in the twenty-first century

Who puts her glasses away differently

Because of what her great-grandmother endured

Ninety years before.

[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[afterglowsainz]

we used to have more pt. 4 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward

part 1 part 2 part 3

pairing: oscar piastri x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: where a talk in a hotel room and a work trip to mexico make things clear for you

fc: different girls from pinterest

warnings: mentions of toxic relationships

a/n: ahhh sorry it took me a while to post this! but finally here it is the last part of this mini series that i loved creating <3 thank you so so much for supporting it the way you did, all the comments, reblogs and likes meant the world to me while writing it💗

—

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yourusername home sweet home

tagged lissiemackintosh

view all comments

username dry ass caption

username girlie is NOT happy to be back

username y/n i know you wanted to stay in america but you can at least act a little bit more excited to be back 😭

username the fact it was sunny all weekend and she posted a pic of the only HOUR of rain is diabolical

declanmurray you can at least pretend

yourusername i’m not contractually obligated to

username pls 😭

username idc she’s down MOTHER IS BACK

oscarpiastri happy you’re back! ❤️

username chat when the guy you’re off and on for years says he’s happy you’re back how to do you react?

username ohhh but we’re having THE fashion icon that is y/n again at the paddock i cannot complain

patriciooward have fun!

yourusername <3333

username pls the way she ignored oscar so severely 😭

liked by yourusername, milesbaldwin and others

patriciooward can never say no to a side quest

view all comments

username NORBIIII 🥰

username every photo was whiplash after whiplash

username incredibly cute and incredibly hot

username don’t push girls

username i am that cookie actually

username i need him in a way that’s concerning for feminism

yourusername boys 🥹

patriciooward miss you!

username no they are my parents

username oscar i was rooting for you but now … i’m not so sure

liked by patriciooward, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername the prodigal son returns home 🇲🇽

view all comments

username omg is this a hard launch??? what is this !!!

username patoooo 💖

username the way you can see everything about her posting changed since she arrived in mexico

username is it wrong to assume it’s because she’s with pato again? 😩

username pato and y/n in mexico is everything

username ohhhh oscar reaaaally fumbled this time

username nahhh im being delusional thinking oscar still has an opportunity (pls y/n give him a chance 😩)

username well, at least she’s posting again 🥳

patriciooward ☀️

yourusername ☀️✨✨💫

liked by indygossip, f1wags and others

f1gossip indycar and mclaren’s reserve driver patricio o’ward was seen last night having dinner and sharing a kiss with f1 community manager y/n y/l/n

it has been rumored for a few years that she was on a relationship on and off with mclaren’s oscar piastri, but it was never confirmed as the driver kept going back to his exgirlfriend

view all comments

username not oscar catching strays 😭😭

f1gossip 🤷🏽‍♀️

username honestly i can’t be mad about this. she deserves someone who makes her happy and pato obviously likes her. they look good together 💗

username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username someone check on oscar 😩

username watch him go back to his exgirlfriend after hearing the news 🙄

username genuinely hoping he doesn’t do that otherwise he’s just reinforcing y/n’s decision of moving on

username anddd that relationship CANNOT be healthy, for either of them

username i knew they were together from day one, y’all were just blinded by oscar

username because they’re meant to be 😭😭

username in another life perhaps!

liked by yourusername, lissiemackintosh and others

patriciooward favorite place with the greatest company ❤️

view all comments

username ahhh the masters of hard launching i’m so here for this

username THE DRESS

username i don’t know if i wanna be pato or y/n in this situation

username okay don’t rub it in 😭

miguelsossa where’s my photo creds for the second one? 🤨

patriciooward 📷: miguelsossa

miguelsossa thanks it means a lot make sure to pin that comment so everyone can see

username pls why did i thought y/n and pato went out without the whole gang 😭

declanmurray HAH don’t make me laugh

milesbaldwin we do leave them alone sometimes

patriciooward …

lissiemackintosh 😮

username speechless at this

username i’m sure pato is a saint because dealing with y/n’s friends must be a handful 🙏🏽

yourusername beautiful 🤍

patriciooward how’s the weather now? :)

yourusername warm enough, you?

patriciooward clear skies

username STOP THEYRE SO CUTE 🥰

liked by georgerussel63, exgirlfriend and others

oscarpiastri happy place ❤️

tagged exgirlfriend

comments for this post have been disabled

—

taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec

[mxfortunecookie]

I’m reblogging this bc I decided that this one’s my favorite. ☆*:.｡. (≧▽≦) .｡.:*☆

it’s just very sweet to me and so very them in a way I can’t describe.

I …didn’t have any motivation for the first bit, the second bit I did a day after, which apparently affected it a lot 💀

Still doin the same style as the last post, I feel like this one came out a bit better, which is good, cause progress and all that

Drawing breakdown-

Not sure if the proportions are correct for the angle but hopefully they are

Credits-

Nightmare: Jokublog

Cross: Jakei95

[topherwrites]

𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛, 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙

summary - a saturday morning, and I love you on the tip of both your tongues.

pairing - bob floyd x (gn!)reader

word count - 2.1k

rating - nsfw content, 18+, mdni!

content warnings & tags - no use of (y/n) / fluff / slightly h*rny fluff / bob's love language being acts of service / the peak fantasy of homeownership / bob floyd being the ideal man™ / lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: time for my bi-yearly fic drop, lol! i wrote this in semi-conjunction with this moodboard. (a.k.a i started this months ago.) everyone who said they want to live in it... same. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!

TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG

Your boyfriend has disappeared.

Even before your eyes are open and your brain is semi-functioning, you feel the lack of his presence, the sheets next to you devoid of his usual space heater existence. You touch the left side—his side—double checking—hoping, really—that you won’t have to peel yourself out of bed to search for him.

A cascade of orange and pink spills through your curtains, painting your room in soft light, letting you know it has to be before seven. With a groan, you check your clock, confirming your suspicions. The time reads a quarter past six—far too early for you.

Not nearly as agonizing for him, one of those irritating early riser types, but Bob is diligent about letting you know when he’s leaving for his early morning runs, a kiss planted to your temple, and a ‘be back soon’—just a little moment in case you have to leave for work before he gets back.

But it’s Saturday, and you had plans of lazing about in bed until at least eleven, preferably with him. 

Your brow creases as you push up onto your elbows, slowly blinking around your room as if your boyfriend will just appear in front of you, and you won’t have to pull yourself out from under the covers to try to coax him back to bed.

As of late, it’s like he gets struck by a whim, and his body is overcome with the need to check it off a list, unable to rest until he does—changing your oil at ten o’clock at night, fixing the light in your fridge that flickers before he heads off for a run, trying to fix the leaky pipes under your en-suite sink—he did eventually give up on that one and call a plumber. Thank god.

Part of you has just taken it as part of his job and personality—he likes getting up as the sun does, he likes fixing things, and his job is a stressor, you're sure. But it doesn't feel work-related, so part of you is beginning to wonder if it’s you. 

An ugly little thought that you can recognize has no factual basis. He’s never been anything but honest with you, open and vulnerable, even when you’ve guarded yourself.

As a result, you tuck it away, considering that he’s off on another one of his little quests. They’re things that always make you feel cared for and thought about—weeding or checking the pressure on your tires or rearranging his kitchen so you can reach the things you frequently use.

So, as you begin to pressure yourself to leave your cocoon of early morning sleepiness, a quiet metal-against-metal clattering floats down the hall and through the crack in your bedroom door, catching your attention.

Slipping out of bed, you pad down the hall, sleep shirt brushing your thighs. Growing nearer to the sound of the soft noise—clearly being sensitive to try not to wake you—-you catch soft guitar strings and the twang of John Prine and Iris DeMent coming from your grandma’s old record player.

You cringe as your foot touches the cold tile lining the floor and immediately regret not rummaging around for your slippers.

You find Bob there, posted at the counter as he cuts something at a butcher board, only wearing the sweats he went to bed in. He's still warm despite the lack of clothing and the countertop fan blowing at him.

At the arch entry, you stop and watch him for a moment, entranced by the way his broad shoulders and the muscles of his back move with the motion—by the sight of him in your kitchen. Something so distinctly domestic and intimate about it.

Completely focused on his task, he doesn't hear you come up behind him. He slightly jumps under your touch as your hands slip around his middle, his stomach beneath your fingertips.

He makes a short noise of surprise that washes into a gentle greeting, his voice low, “Hey, sweetheart.”

You press your lips to his shoulder blade, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.

You've clearly ruined some sort of surprise, but you can't feel too bad at the sight of his eyes still clouded by sleep and the odd angles his hair sticks up.

Keeping his eyes on the cuts he’s making, Bob briefly twists around to press a kiss to your temple as he mumbles, “Go back to bed.”

You just hum, beginning to press kisses to the freckles that scatter along his shoulders, deepened by the tan he’s obtained from working in the flowerbeds that sit alongside your front door. The beds were slightly tragic before you began dating, some sort of sparse bushes planted there. They were alive at one point, you assume, but lying half dead and bare when you bought the place.

In no time at all, he had the beds torn up and replaced with bright white hydrangeas that now sit in full bloom under your front windows. Pink zinnias, sunny yellow goldenrods, and pale milkweeds—all chosen by him because they attract monarch butterflies during their migration—flank either side of the brown brick pathway. Cheek pressed to his skin; you cast a glance outside just as a small orange and black blur flits by the glass.

“So… where is it?”

Chewing on the inside of his lip, Bob casts a lost glance around the plant nursery’s vast outdoor gardens—bright pops of color among vast expanses of green, the high afternoon sun beating down on them—the acreage of it is astounding and certainly a workout.

You’re supposed to be picking up some mulch for the beds—but you keep getting sidetracked. Half your fault; you beeline for every slightly pretty plant, balancing it on the cart that’s rapidly becoming overloaded. The wheels digging heavily into the gravel pathways, little trenches left in your wake.

It’s early days with Bob Floyd, but he’s sweet and helpful and easy to get free labor out of—a big plus in your book.

On your first date, when he walked you to your front door, sweet and gentlemanly, you made a quick joke, a callback to your hinge profile. There, you had answered the prompt, I'm looking for…, with, ‘someone to put together my ikea bookshelf. seriously.’

Because, after two unsuccessful attempts to put it together and three months of it languishing in the corner of your living room, you were tired of feeling a pang of guilt every time you piled another book on top of the precarious stack teetering next to your reading chair.

Of course, on the date, you didn't actually expect him to do it. You made the joke as a way to test the waters, to see if he was open to coming inside without fully putting yourself out there that way.

But then he followed you in, sat himself down cross-legged on your living room rug, and got to work. You stood there in the doorway for a moment, warming even further to him. 

You poured a glass of wine for each of you, and watched his hands as he set joints together and tightened screws with a furrow between his brows. And despite his serious focus on the job, he continued asking you questions about your taste in books, your favorite bands growing up, what you liked about San Diego as you sat near—your only real contribution being the wine, simple conversation, and occasionally handing him a screw.

He’d finished near midnight, asked if you wanted help sorting your books, and when you said no, already mildly abashed at the fact that you’d set him to work on your first date, he’d given you a kiss goodnight on your cheek—chaste and unpresuming—and left it at that.

You’d fallen for him a little bit then and there.

Blinking, he stares down at the map once again—same furrow in his brow—turning it in his hands. Not sounding any more sure than he was a second ago, he points slightly westerly of you, “That way. I think.”

It draws a slight laugh from you. You lightly hip-check him, teasing over your shoulder, “Come on, farm boy, you’re supposed to be helping me.”

The scent of lemon carries inside from the open window over the sink, summer ripening the tree planted in your yard. That’s also when you spy past his shoulder a small stack of the same yellow fruit on the counter. A pancake crackles away on the stove.

Your voice is quiet—reticent to break the seal of this hushed moment—as you ask, “What are you making?”

Hands wandering mindlessly, your touch follows the trail of hair from his belly button, fingers sneaking only just under the waistband of his sweats, loosely hung on his hips. 

He seems to part with the idea of whatever he’s doing being a surprise, clear that you’re not going to accede to his request and tuck yourself back into bed, too awake now to do so.

“Pancakes,” he reveals, continuing to whip, “with lemon ricotta whipped cream.”

“Trying out a new recipe?”

His throaty laugh reverberates into your chest, shaking you. Your smile hikes higher before you even know what he’s laughing about—just enjoying the sound, the melody and the slight grit to it.

“Emphasis on trying,” he says, scooping a bit of the whipped cream onto his finger, offering it to you to taste. “Would you?”

You draw his finger into your mouth. It’s slightly sweet with a burst of tang, the sugar and cream mellowing out the sharper edges of the lemon flavor. A success, you think. As you draw back, you flash your gaze up and find his eyes unabashedly caught on your mouth.

You pull off and without breaking eye contact, breathily tease, “Lech.”

With a slight flush to his ears and cheeks, he laughs and leans in, nose brushing yours as he presses his lips to yours. His mouth slants over yours, insistent, his hand finds its way to cradle your jaw, tilt your head just right. It catches your breath, makes your toes curl against the tile.

You're still not entirely used to this, the sweetness of Bob Floyd. His eyes are soft as he pulls back, his thumbs sweeping along your cheeks. He clicks his tongue, cheekily muttering, “I think it’s good.”

His lips move to your cheek next, mumbling between a kiss there, “You're distracting.”

The gesture, so simple, makes your heart flip.

By this stage of dating you're usually spiraling, finding reasons that it won’t work out and tallying up slights so when the expected happens, you're not blindsided. Like it's a game you’ll win; perpetually preparing yourself for heartbreak. 

And it’s often been easy, dating men who were noncommittal or uninterested or flippant with affection made it so. They were easy to write off— jettison them from your life and think, onto the next. 

But everything has changed with him. There’s an ease to the intimacy, a frankness to him that makes that defense mechanism very difficult to muster. You're… settled.

And it should scare you, the way your heart is fully on the line, but then you catch sight of one of his dogeared-to-hell paperbacks in the living room or the little date night notes he leaves scribbled on the calendar that hangs next to the fridge or his mismatched colorful socks mixed in with your laundry and it doesn't. As simple as that.

You haven’t said the L word yet. But it’s there, dancing on the tip of your tongue every time you look at him.

Bob is near certain that this is love.

No, he supposes, he is certain. He’s mulled this particular topic over too much in his mind not to be.

It's love—the big kind. He’s just not certain when he should let you in on that fact. Release it out to you and see if it comes back returned.

In the past five months he’s undertaken a million little projects to keep his hands, mouth, and mind busy, working out all that excess energy. All he’s doing is kicking the can down the road, trying to find “the right time”. 

He's gotten close more than once, yet every time it catches in the back of his throat, his tongue an uneasy ally in the venture. The words, three simple ones, are left as something uncomfortable to swallow down at each abandoned attempt.

And yet, virtually all that discomfort is eased by the way you say his name, catching his attention when they nearly slip, nearly an endearment all on its own. 

His call sign being his name means that Bob hears it alot, from a considerable amount of mouths. Shouted, whispered, whooped. In a variance of forms, he's heard it. But it's never sounded so important, so weighty, then it does as it falls from your lips. Like you're speaking a dialect only the two of you hold knowledge of, his name equivalent to the word in the forefront of his mind.

"Bob."

He hums, certain that his face gives him away; 'Whipped' as Mickey called it or 'in love' as his mother did the first time you met.

This is the sort of thing that his parents have, the ease, the humor, the affection. It permeates every space of his life, the knowledge that you're here, with him, choosing each other easily.

Eight letters.

I love you.

He lets temptation run wild, hands glancing down your back and tugging you right into him. He takes a moment just to look at you, your bright eyes, and the sweet shape of your lips as you smile up at him. Your hands slide around his neck, gently teasing the hair at the nape of his neck, his stomach swooping at the feeling.

Three syllables.

I love you.

He lets them swirl in his head, settle in the back of his throat as he prepares his tongue.

Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and he opens his mouth, readying himself, just as your lips part, and twice at once, I love you, becomes tangible reality.

Like a held breath released, a smile, broad and uncontrollable, spreads over his face, mirrored on yours as everything comes into view.

Just as Bob leans in to brush his lips against yours, higher than he’s ever felt, the smell of rapidly burning batter hits his nose. 

"Oh, shoot."

a/n: thank you for reading!

[navybrat817]

Puppy Dog Eyes

Pairing: William Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Will feels betrayed by someone he thought was his ally.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, talk of threats and interrogation, slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by this post @ghotifishreads tagged me in. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Will counted the seconds in his mind as he stared his adversary down. Someone he should've considered an ally. Maybe even a friend. But now? He didn't recognize the beast in front of him.

He was used to people playing dirty behind enemy lines, but this? Betrayal in familiar territory? The sting was like a bullet to the gut.

“Before you test my resolve, I want you to know that I have forty three confirmed kills.”

A huff was the only reply he got.

Crouching down so he was at eye level, he huffed, too. His enemy was much smaller in size, but looks could be deceiving. “Now, I’m not going to hurt you. It wouldn't do either of us any good,” he said, tapping a finger against his thigh. “I just want to know why.”

He didn't get an answer. Only a defiant stare. The silent treatment. That was fine. Nothing he hadn't faced before. He had ways to make enemies talk if it came to that. And the puppy dog eyes wouldn't garner sympathy from him.

Battle had hardened him too much for that.

Shut down. Control. Manipulate. That’s what he did with his human instincts until he completed his mission.

Will continued the staring contest until the smaller one whined. It wasn't an answer, but it was a start. “You made this personal, you know. And I’ll throw you out in the rain if you push your luck,” he threatened, tilting his head to maintain eye contact. “No. You don't get to look away. Not after what you did. After I took you into my home.”

And how did he repay him?

“Honey?”

Your voice pulled Will’s attention away from the task at hand. “Yeah, baby?”

You leaned against the doorway, a smile tugging at your kissable lips. “Are you interrogating Bandit?”

Bandit, the puppy Benny got weeks ago. The puppy you offered to watch since his brother was going out of town for a few days and he didn't want to board him. The same little rascal who chewed up a pair of tennis shoes. New tennis shoes.

And hadn't touched a single one of his chew toys.

Will nodded to his ruined shoes. “You saw what he did.”

“I did and I'm sorry,” you said, though you had no reason to apologize. It wasn't like you chewed them up. “He’s a puppy and they’re going to do those kinds of things from time to time. Is it really worthy of an interrogation?”

“Yes, it is.” Bandit swung his head toward you and whimpered. “No, don’t you-”

“Aww. Is the former Captain bothering you?” You walked over and scooped him into your arms. The light golden puppy snuggled close, but looked at Will like he was taunting him. You had a soft spot for dogs and Bandit sensed that. Used it to his advantage.

“Taking his side?”

“I’m always on your side, Will,” you said, softening his resolve. “Now, Bandit, you know you aren't supposed to do that. Play with your toys, not shoes. Okay?”

Bandit barked. He actually barked for you. How did you do that?

“And apologize to Will,” you urged.

He barked again.

“Good boy,” you smiled as Will stood up and crossed his arms. “And don't worry, we won't throw you out in the rain.”

“I still might just to teach him a lesson,” Will half teased. “Or I can just put him in his cage.”

Bandit whined and hid his face. “Don’t you dare. He’s a puppy, not a soldier. And you were happy with watching him until now. Besides, he said he was sorry,” you said, giving Will your own set of puppy dog eyes.

You had a point. Bandit was a pretty well-behaved puppy, all things considered. He didn't bite. Didn't make a mess when he ate. Went to the door when he had to go outside. And he seemed content to sleep in his dog bed and didn't demand to sleep with the two of you.

“Fine. No cage,” he relented.

“Thank you. And I’m sure Benny will buy you a new pair of shoes once he gets back,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said. He wouldn't hold his breath to get new shoes or money for the damage done. He may be Benny’s big brother, but Benny adored his puppy and would likely blame him for leaving them out in the first place. He had a routine though. He put his shoes in the same spot after he exercised.

To be fair, he should've been more careful. He would be in the future. If anything, he could try to see the positive side of things and use this as a learning experience. That's what you tried to do when you ran into unfortunate situations.

“Is it a bad time to suggest we get our own puppy?” You asked, smiling as you lifted Bandit up higher and put his cheek against yours. “Chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice.”

Dogs did make for great companions. He’d be lying if he said he hadn't pictured the two of you having a kid and a dog for them to grow up with. Someone who would be a friend to and watch over his child.

“What do you think?” You smiled when he stayed quiet for too long.

He softly smiled. Most people couldn't sway him to do anything, but you had a way about you. Maybe it was because he loved you. “I’ll think about it.”

You put Bandit down before you leaned in and brushed your lips against Will’s. “Thank you.”

He went in for another kiss, but stopped when the words fully registered. “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you say scratched up couch?”

“...Did I say that? I don't recall.”

“I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,” he told you.

You put a hand over your heart. “That is so romantic.”

“And you said ‘chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice’, so what exactly did he do to our couch?”

Your eyes widened as you took a step back. “Run, Bandit!”

And he did.

I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[livlaughloveluke]

omgomg can you do a charlie bushnell x reader smau where they do a soft launch?

ᡣ𐭩 𝗶 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶’𝗺 𝗳𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗵𝗮

feminine reader x charlie bushnell smau

IN WHICH.. two famous pjo stars decide to make their relationship public

[a/n]- reader just plays an imaginary character in the first season, also request more smau’s i love them!

🎧- i know i’m funny haha by faye webster

liked by walkerscobell, jenna ortega, and 143k others

therealyn- beach trippp!

view comments…

diorgoodjohn- ok wow i don’t remember receiving invitation ?

↳ therealyn- i’m so sorry bae ilysm 💔

walkerscobell- you are NOT the son of poseidon lil bro 💀🔥

↳ therealyn- don’t make me get sally up in here

↳ walkerscobell- I WAS JOKING

user2- gorg

user6- holy shit she’s stunning

iamcharliebushnell- surprised you didn’t almost drown

↳ therealyn- THAT WAS ONE TIME.

↳ walkerscobell- hey why don’t I remember this so called “drowning”

↳ diorgoodjohn- i don’t remember this either 🤨

↳ therealyn- 🤫🧏‍♀️

user8- why is no one addressing the last pic

↳ user5- fr who is that

↳ user4- it’s probably charlie omg

↳ user3- can we let people be friends without automatically assuming they’re dating??

aryansimhadri- you’re my favorite castmate ❤️

↳ therealyn- awe you’re my fav too 💕

↳ walkerscobell- excuse me??

↳ diorgoodjohn- i thought you loved me yn 😔

↳ iamcharliebushnell- wait what

liked by diorgoodjohn, iamcharliebushnell, and 124k others

therealyn- the big 🍎

view comments…

diorgoodjohn- i’m 😭 so 😭 happy 😭 for 😭 you 😭

walkerscobell- hey so you can’t just post this with no explanation

↳ therealyn- hey so actually i can

oliviarodrigo- i’m in love with you omg

↳ therealyn- omgomg i love you too

iamcharliebushnell- pretty cool post

↳ therealyn- pretty cool indeed

↳ walkerscobell- this feels oddly intimate

aryansimhadri- what’s goin on here 🤨

↳ therealyn- i’m in new york duh

leahsavajeffries- maybe reply to my texts instead of posting your (not so) mystery man 💕😄

↳ therealyn- i’m going to ignore that last part ☺️

user4- HA tagged user3

↳ user3- they haven’t confirmed anything 😒

iamcharliebushnell uploaded a new story!

seen by therealyn, walkerscobell, diorgoodjohn… (view more)

liked by rickriordan, aryansimhadri, and 217k others

iamcharliebushnell- guess what

view comments…

walkerscobell- I KNEW IT

walkerscobell- GUYS I KNEW IT

walkerscobell- also that last photo is yucky 😀

↳ iamcharliebushnell- can’t you just be supportive

leahsavajeffries- so this is cool and all but i’d appreciate photo credits for the first one

↳ iamcharliebushnell- my dearest apologies i am greatly sorry

↳ leahsavajeffries- yeah you better be 💯💯

rickriordan- ❤️

↳ therealyn- 💕

↳ iamcharliebushnell- ❤️

diorgoodjohn- hey girly i know you don’t know me but…

↳ iamcharliebushnell- square up 🤺🤺

aryansimhadri- wowo so cutsies

↳ therealyn- so so cutsies

therealyn- who’s that gorgeous and funny and smart and sexy babe on the first slide 😍

↳ walkerscobell- someone’s humble

↳ therealyn- i was talking about charlie but okay

user4- I TOLD YOU tagged user3

↳ user3- i know i should be upset that i lost this argument and all but they are so cute

andrewalvarez- wow this is SO unexpected and I definitely did not know at all!

↳ walkerscobell- WHY DID HE KNOW BEFORE US

↳ iamcharliebushnell- he walked in on us 😔

ᡣ𐭩

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

reblogging + showing support is highly appreciated :)

[neuvifuri]

my url is their ship name, so it’s safe to say that’s not the kind of relationship i think they have. please make your own post in the future.

thinking about how in the aftermath, neuvillette and furina both returned home and they talked. he told her everything focalors had told him, and she just said “i’m tired” and in the morning she was packed and gone. and he tells the traveler, he will still take care of her, and she will have a home and food and protection and she shall want for nothing. and travel, to leave fontaine, to go where he can’t follow, if she wishes it. and her voice line about him says “i haven’t been to the palais in a while, that’s good for both of us, right?” and his voice line about her says “i would like to see her again to give her my earnest praise… yes, i should definitely like to see her again.” and in her story quest he sounds so fond of her, proud that she’s branching out and reconnecting with her interests, and if the traveler speaks to him after he says he was always enthralled by her, and that he hopes she knows it was sincere. all the ways she’s saying none of it was real, you must hate me. and all the ways he’s saying it was real for me, i loved you. i still love you.

[sheyfu]

𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚? 🌹

— 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗆𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂!𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗑 𝗀𝗇!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 [𝗌𝖾𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾]

— 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌/𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎

— 𝖿𝗍. 𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝖾, 𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 𝗋𝗂𝗇, 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗒𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗂, 𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝗄𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗋𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗎, 𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗀𝗂 𝗒𝗈𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗂, 𝗆𝗂𝗄𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗈, 𝗇𝖺𝗀𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗈, 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗂 𝗁𝗒𝗈𝗆𝖺, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗂 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗀𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾

𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖺𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 :))

itoshi sae: amor (love), mi vida (my life), mis amores (my darling) 

sae isn’t much of a talker. but when he does open that mouth of it, words of trust and love flow out from his lips (at least that’s the case for you.)

itoshi rin: y/n, stupid, dumbass

while all of these sound derogatory and basic, it’s just how rin expresses his love for you. it’s not that he doesn’t like to call you pet names (he calls you "love" once in awhile), he just doesn’t get why you have to call your lover by other terms?!@# he just wants to keep it simple. (plus he loves your name so much ueueueue)

shidou ryusei: darlin’, sweets, doll 

yup the typical fuckboy pet names. i don’t even have an explanation as to why but he loves calling you these (especially sweets).

kaiser michael: mein liebling/schatz (my darling), mein liebe (my love), mein herz (my heart)

mikka LOVESSSSSSSSS calling you these on a daily basis to the point some of his teammates (noa and even isagi 😭) even call you these instead of your name (he gets extremely jealous and pouty). 

bachira meguru: baby, bee, sweetheart

ah yes, the typical corny ass pet names. some people might yuck it but in bachira’s words, ‘don’t yum my yuck’ (you told him it was yuck my yum). no one can stop him, he’s just too in love with you (plus he calls you these to spite kaiser). 

isagi yoichi: princess, babe, sunshine

here comes the king of cringe yoichi. now, he doesn’t see anything wrong with these; it’s just the people around him are making a big fuss about these. they’re really cute! and his partner’s really cute too!

mikage reo: love, darling, sweetheart

he likes calling you simple, yet classy endearments. his favourite one to call you tho is definitely ‘love’. simple endearments for a lovely guy indeed. 

nagi seishiro: babe, y/n, darl’

now, seishiro doesn’t really like talking which is why these are really simple (but they’re so cute with the way he drags them out like “baaaaaaaabe” or “y/nnnnnnn”). but when he’s in a silly goofy mood (especially when he finishes a game), he’ll call you darl’ or just darling with a stupid smirk on his face.

chigiri hyoma: love, stupid, y/n

i just imagine hyoma to be a silly lover. someone who you can playfully banter with and someone you can love without limits. he’s just a simple guy. (he WILL beg you to buy him his hair care materials, comb his hair and style his hair). 

baro shoei: princess, darling, bunny

he says these to rile you up and make you all blushy and giggly. that’s it. that’s the explanation mhm mhm.

kunigami rensuke: princess, love, my dear

he’s a BIIIIIIIIIIIG softie in my eyes. he’s so soft-spoken and HSAASFDIS i can hear him say these im not even kidding (i’m delusional) 

OKAY YAYYY ANOTHER BANGER POSTED!! (will post more btw HUHDUHIEJROA) i hope this was enjoyable for everyone!! thanks for being here and hope to see you again! comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated <3 (what the hell thats a lot of tags 😭😭)

[starglitterz]

♡ SMILEY.

❝ do you like the way i talk about you all day? wanna hear you say; you talk about me all the time! ❞ // how the genshin men talk to you ♡

✧ feat ; albedo, ayato, cyno, dainsleif, diluc, gorou, heizou, itto, kaeya, lyney, neuvillette, scaramouche, thoma, venti, wriothesley, xiao, zhongli x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; none, just pure fluff !! ✧ a/n ; grand comeback post!! (i say this every time i disappear) hope u guys like this it’s just a silly little fun post LOL,,, it’s not my normal style but i did want to post something because it’s been a while >:) if this doesn't show up in tags i will Cry.

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ some boys are sweet-talkers, compliments spilling from their lips like a waterfall whenever they speak to you. but the praise isn’t just empty words, because the way their eyes sparkle as they gush over you shows that they mean it sincerely. and they’ll never understand why you get so embarrassed when they tell you how pretty you look, or how smart you are – they’re just telling you the truth, after all!  — gorou, itto, thoma, venti

✦ you know you should find it stupid how men tend to manspread in their chair. but when these boys lean back in their seat, legs parted just enough as they raise an eyebrow and ask, “yeah?” or “is that right?” with a nod for you to continue speaking, you swear you can feel your knees buckling. seriously, what else can you do when they look at you with that piercing gaze, the barest hint of a smug smile dancing about their mouth?  — ayato, scaramouche, wriothesley

✦ with quiet boys, the things they say are even more valuable because of how rare they are. they’re usually silent, listening to your voice with a soft smile as you ramble about your day. but sometimes, out of nowhere, they’ll whisper a compliment, one that comes straight from their heart and pierces yours. it isn’t like dramatic poetry adorned with stunning prose, but their blunt compliments mean the world simply because of how genuine they are. just one sentence like “your eyes are so pretty when you talk about the things you love.” and you’re folding.  — albedo, dainsleif, diluc, neuvillette, xiao, zhongli

✦ and of course, there are those boys whose every word is coated with so much sugar their sentences wouldn’t be out of place in a bakery. every time they see you, there’s a new pick-up line to test on you, or another grand gesture to wow you with. a bouquet of roses pulled from nowhere accompanied with the cheesiest line you’ve ever heard is generally not the way to win someone’s heart, but when you see the trace of hopefulness glimmering in their gaze as they await your reply, you think that maybe it’s cute if it’s coming from them. — cyno, heizou, kaeya, lyney

© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow / comment if you enjoyed !