#this shit tastes like cargo pants
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make “#this shit taste like cargo pants” trending
#we do a little meme making#mitch flipline#the dynamoe flipline#moe flipline#papa louie#flipline studios#this shit tastes like cargo pants#make it trending.
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idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)
like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.
and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.
ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."
you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.
fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.
what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?
how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!
you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--
you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--
and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.
face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.
when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.
"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."
you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.
"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"
you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.
"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."
you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--
"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."
when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.
"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."
"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.
"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"
#idk what this is#but i saw a pic of ghost and i had to be gross about him for a couple hundred words sorry#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#ghoap x reader
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how to disappear | luke castellan
warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)
part 2: shades of cool
pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke
description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey
i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.
"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."
"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."
he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."
"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."
he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.
luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."
you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"
"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."
"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."
"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."
"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"
luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."
you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.
at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.
this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.
"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"
"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."
"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"
"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."
"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."
"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."
luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.
you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."
"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."
"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.
"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."
"does she?"
"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."
"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."
"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."
luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."
you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.
"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."
he squeezed your hand, "yeah."
ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.
"castellan."
luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.
he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."
"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"
"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."
"castellan."
he cringed, "sorry."
"what happened?"
"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."
you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."
"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."
"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.
this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.
"how bad are they?"
"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."
"why didn't you come find me?"
"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."
"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."
"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."
you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."
luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."
you cocked your head, "huh?"
"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."
you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."
"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.
"what?"
"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."
it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.
you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.
in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.
you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.
luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.
luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.
it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.
but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.
"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."
sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.
you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.
iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.
luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.
percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.
he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.
luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.
it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.
luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.
as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.
you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.
he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.
"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."
luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.
"what are you doing here?"
"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."
"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.
"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"
"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."
"do you trust him?"
luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?
luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."
"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."
"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."
"it's just me, luke."
he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.
this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.
"'m sorry, angel."
"you're acting different, luke."
"'m sorry."
"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."
luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"
"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.
"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."
"you don't have to be mean about it."
he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."
you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"
"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"
"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."
he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.
"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"
"i know."
"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."
"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."
"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.
luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."
selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.
an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.
"i love you, you know that, right?"
luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.
iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.
"i love you."
you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.
you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.
"what are you doing here, castellan?"
it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.
"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."
"why did you do it?"
"i don't know."
"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"
"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."
"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."
luke was silent.
"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."
he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.
you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.
#luke castellan#luke castellan one shot#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan fanfic#pjo tv show#pjo fanfic#pjo spoilers#pjo series#percy jackson#percy jackson fanfic#frances song fics#frances writes#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x y/n
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— mornings || s.r
thots thots thots bby.
more horny shit for you horny fucks
synopsis: just a little smooching (and some more) with simon
warnings: 🎶it’s getting hit in here, so take off-🎶 kidding, slight sexual themes, language, simping on both ends, this is rusheddddd
simon”ghost”riley x fem!reader
IMPORTANT THINGY AT THE END!!
“sweetheart,” that thick manchester accent oozed out like honey. it was rare for simon to fully speak with his accent, but whenever he did it was in the mornings like now.
he let out a deep groan, shifting his hips, moving you around a bit. you sat perched on his lower abdomen, lips darting from his neck to his jaw and to his chest. simons hands were firm on your hips, less to keep you but himself steady.
“i need to.. fuck..” he sucked in a breath when your lips made contact with a slightly sensitive spot on his neck, by his ear. “i.. i need to get to work. i can’t be late.”
you hummed, eyes closed and savoring the feel and taste of him. “almost there. what’s the rush?”
he scoffed, his hands subconsciously making small circles on your hips. “i cant be late- we can’t be late.”
you groaned. “fine fine.” you led a trail of kisses and small bites up his neck to his lips, capturing him into a deep kiss. your hand came up to caress the side of his head while one of his hands went to the back of your head, pulling you down more.
the kiss was slow and meaningful. biting and pulling at each others lips, tongues swirling together with your teeth occasionally rubbing against each other.
when you finally pulled back, panting and dazed, a small string of saliva connected your lips to his.
god, how you wished you could always spend your mornings like this. feeling nothing but each other with no care in the world, kissing as if it were your last kiss. leaving simon, the ghost panting, dazed, and slightly flushed from nothing but a few kisses.
-
“love.” simon called out from the bathroom. you sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on your military cargo pants. you leaned back, “yeah?”
simon walked out, cargo pants on but no shirt letting his toned and chiseled torso on full display (not that you were against it). he pointed towards his neck and chest, specifically at the dark hickeys that littered his chest and neck.
you purses you lips, “what?”
“you really think i can go into work like this?”
you scoffed, “if i could go after what you did to me last week, then yes you can go like that.”
you got up, walking over to him, arms around his neck. “besides, you’re always covered up. it’s not like anyone will see anyways.”
“you little..”
-
it’s safe to say that both you and simon arrived late to base that morning. both of you sporting a new look around your necks.
wow another rushed fic? if there’s any mistakes lmk i wrote this at the dead of night so my brain isn’t doing very brainy things.
ALSO, IMPORTANT THINGY !!!!!!
idk how many of you will actually read this, BUT if you do, i’m just letting you all know that my request are open so if y’all want time to write smt for simon or idk who else then drop and thing. i’ll do my best but no promises.
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley#modern warefare ii#mw2 ghost#call of duty#cod mw2#ghost call of duty#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley fanfic#simon riley smut#k4marinafics
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Hi!! :) I was wondering if you could write a Joel Miller x female reader smut where Joel and the reader have a relatively large age gap. Y/N is new to the QZ, so she recently met Joel for the first time and became friends with him, but their relationship turns into a FWB relationship. Reader is about 20-23/in her early twenties. Possibly doggystyle?
-ˋˏ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ-
— pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader
— word count: 1.1k
— warnings: vague hunter/prey vibes, angry sex(?) ever so slightly mean Joel, p in v sex, cream-pie (ain’t no condoms surviving a 20 year apocalypse) ((wrap it, kids)), Peaches is a pet name— really leaning hard on the southern comfort, established FwithB relationship. 18+, ya nasties.
— authors note: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, nonny, but I got a little carried away! I enjoyed writing this so much, so I hope this makes up for it <3
joel miller masterlist I| main masterlist |I send me an ask
Crunch.
The sound of a branch snapping amongst the treeline coats your stomach with nausea, tongue tasting of bile. You’re frozen in place, hand hovering over the pistol strapped to your hip. Listen.
When you stormed out of Joel's house this morning following the blazing row, you had felt confident that you would prove him wrong.
"Don't go out on patrol alone. There's worse out there than the infected, Peaches."
It felt patronising, like Joel was emphasising your age and interfering that you could not protect yourself without him. Sure, you were too young to remember outbreak day, but that meant you’d lived this way your entire life! You could protect yourself! So you set out on the patrol trail despite the bitter cold nipping at the apples of your cheeks and the heaviness of your feet as they ploughed through the blanket of snow.
Twisting on your heel, you scan the tree line for hostiles. It’s relatively still. Instead of fungus and bloodshed, you face off against a robin perched on a branch and a set of squirrels scuttling up a dead oak trunk.
You exhale a sigh of relief, a breath you didn't realise you were holding. Of course there was no one- there hadn’t been hunters for months!
Dropping your palm away from your weapon, you allow your adrenaline to settle back into your bones. It leaves you with a film of nervous sweat on your brow. You feel ridiculous- paranoid. Like Joel's words of warning had settled into the grooves of your mind, nerves working away unnoticed.
That stupid fucking argument rings in your head. Yelling at him that this thing between you doesn’t mean he could start getting protective. You were fine without him! You’d handled everything great so far!
Confident in your safety, you continue on your path. The crunch of the snow beneath your boots is loud, drowning out the noise of the surrounding forest as your chest heaves with the afterburn of your adrenaline spike. You don’t hear him.
A hand comes over your head, smothering your gasp with its palm when it covers your mouth. Panic takes over, your knees giving out beneath you as they shove you to the snowy floor. The crown of your head is cushioned by the thick, white inches, and your fear quickly turns to aggravation as you look Joel in the eye.
“Joel-!” You hiss behind his hand, slapping his shoulder and kicking your feet, “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Told you not to go on your own.” His voice is gruff, laced with the bite of arousal when he yanks your thermal jumper out from under the waistband of your cargo pants. It’s freezing, and goosebumps litter your skin as he practically rips the zipper down and drags them over your hips.
“J-Joel-“ you fumble, watching him dip his head down to press kisses to your stomach. His beard hair is coarse against the soft flesh of your abdomen, and he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a bruise. “Fuck!”
“Comin’ out here when I told you not to. Gettin’ all lipsy with me-“ he growls, shucking your trousers over your hips and yanking down your underwear. You gasp when your naked ass hits the snow, staring up at the older man as it melts into your back.
He’s practically tearing his clothes off, stripping the belt from his body and tossing it with an urgency you hadn’t seen in him since meeting him on these secret rendezvouses. He’s ravenous, already hard in his jeans as he begins stripping out of them. It sets your skin alight and starts a buzz in the pit of your stomach.
“Who are you, my dad?” You scoff, allowing yourself a little bite-back. It sparks something in him, his hands grabbing ahold of your body and practically hoisting you onto your hands and knees.
“Gettin’ real fuckin’ mouthy with me, Peaches,” he growls in your ear, his chest draped over your back as he sweeps his cock-head through your folds. You’re wet already, Joel’s exigency working you up before he even had a chance to touch you. “Gunna shut you up.”
God, when he pushes inside of you, a broken wail falls from your lips, your head bowing at your shoulders as you claw at the layers of snowflakes at your fingers. It’s as though he’s cracking you open, the stretch tinged with sharp pain but blooming white-hot through your body.
“Joel-!”
He shoves forward, slamming into the depths of you, and holy fuck, it’s deep. It’s as though he punches the air out of your lungs, and you’re wheezing, nails caking with dirt as you drag them across the soil.
When he thrusts, it hurts. Stings. You groan loudly, back arching as you push your hips back into him despite the feeling he’s bruising your guts.
“What was that, Peaches?” He lets out a short huff, like a laugh. You see the vapour of his hot breath hitting the out of the corner of your eye. “You got somethin’ to say?”
“N-No!” You gasp in reply, utterly submitting to the brutality of his thrusts as he rocks into you heavily.
“Hah!” He truly scoffs now, hand burying into the junction of your neck and using the grip to pull you back harder onto his cock. It winds you completely, and any noises you would make die in your throat as he continues his brutal pace. “Baby can’t think, can she?”
Then you’re sobbing, ugly, messy sobs where the tears sting your freezing cheeks as he fucks you hard and raw. It’s thrumming, buzzing around you, your orgasm building and building as he viscously punches your cervix with the head of his cock.
“I know, I know baby,” he consoles you as you practically vibrate around him, his hand sliding down the ghost of your spine through your thick winter coat. “I know, it’s so good. You’r-fuck- You’re so good- Come on, Peaches. Come on.”
His coaxing, his praise makes you clamp down around him like a vice. Your body screams, your voice ricocheting off the tree trunks, but you’re blown apart by your orgasm and you can’t even hear it. You must be letting out pathetically loud yelps because Joel amps up his thrusts by a thousand, his pace far too fast for a man of his age.
“Hnggg- Jesus-,” he lets out a strangled noise, quickly spitting out something about you creaming around his cock before his body stiffens suddenly. His earth-shattering thrusts slow to a slight rock as he pulses hot, spilling inside of you with a devastating growl of your name.
It feels like shell shock, the way your body slumps and the disembodied feeling that your afterglow leaves you with. Joel’s groaning softly, pushing up the hem of your thermals to expose your back. He presses tender kisses across your spine, blessing each vertebra with a touch of his lips as his cum runs down the inside of your thigh. He hums.
“One more, baby. Wanna give you one more-“
END
-
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller tlou#joel miller oneshot#joel miller x you#the last of us#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#tlou#tlou smut#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#જ⁀➴ mail: received#1k+ club
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ROUND 2 : PG.03 — push him off
ROUND 2: dazai osamu x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS: When you decided to attend Chuya's volleyball game, you didn't expect to see a familiar face. A face of someone you thought you would've never seen again; what's more annoying however, is seeing said face repeatedly.
TW: cursing, talks of suicide
round 2 master list || prev. || next
OCTOBER 22 ; 15:47
WATCHING YOU PULL up to his driveway was a familiar sight to Chūya by now, however he does not appreciate you treating him as if he were a passenger princess. However, legally he cannot drive so this is the position he has been reduced too.
Slamming your car door shut, you step out onto the concrete and walk to the other side of your car to simply hold the passenger door open for Chūya. "Hop in," you offer the short man a smile, gesturing with your other hand to which his eye twitches at.
"I hate you," he glares, but sitting in the passenger's seat regardless. Chuckling slightly at his words, you slam the car door shut before sliding back into the driver's seat knowing that there was no real malice behind his words.
You think.
It was two minutes into the car ride that you turn down the music playing in the car and interrupt Chūya's train of thought, "Do you think he'll actually be there? Or do you think this is just another one of his schemes to poke fun at us?"
"Us or the school?" he replied in a monotone voice.
"What difference does it make?"
"I wouldn't put it past him if he pulled that kind of shit this time," Chūya huffed out a sigh. "Always playing games on people for seemingly no reason. I swear he pulls this shit just to flex his IQ or some bullshit like that."
"Sounds like a dumb person kind of thing to do if you really think about it," you mutter.
There was another solid minute of silence waiting at the red light before Chūya said something. "What if I pushed him off the port?"
"You'd get arrested."
"What if no one found out?"
"Then you just wouldn't be arrested."
"Are there security camera's at the port?"
"Yes Chūya, you know this," you sighed, a small grin of amusement on your face at Chūya's questions.
The ginger blinks once, then twice before giving you a dry chuckle, "Finally you've lightened up. You've been all gloomy and shit ever since that suicidal maniac reached out again."
Your eyes widen slightly at Chūya's attentiveness. "Huh, I guess so," you say before focusing back onto the road ahead.
THE PORT WAS an old hangout spot you all discovered roughly about five years ago. Who would go looking for a few eighth graders at the place where boats get loaded with cargo? It was a nice spot for the two years it was used but ever since Dazai left the place left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you all never returned since.
Getting to the port was the easy part, dealing with Dazai's antics for the first time in years wasn't. The moment the two of you managed to get to the old hangout place, the first words out of his mouth were just, "Someone managed to get shorter."
"Instead of making fun of my height be thankful that I make you look taller. You're not even six foot you bastard," Chūya fires back.
"That insult would actually hurt if you could actually reach me," the brunette said with a smug look on his face.
Rolling up the sleeves of his maroon crewneck, he takes a step forward as you place your hand on his shoulder. Seeing the look on your face, Chūya simply scoffs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats.
"Cut the shit Osa- Dazai. Why'd you cut us off?" you questioned, taking the initiative.
"Down to business as usual," he sighed, placing his hand to the back of his neck. "I just simply didn't think I'd ever see you guys again I guess, so it wouldn't matter."
Both you and Chūya stared at him for a moment. "You're shitting me," Chūya said incredulously, "You've actually got to be shitting me if that's your deadass reason I'm going to shit your pants."
"Now that's a threat I'm actually scared of," Dazai said, eyes now focused on the ginger beside you, a small tinge of maybe fear and disgust in them.
Perhaps a hint of curiosity as well.
"So there's another reason as to why you just fucking ghosted us out of nowhere?" you accused, crossing your arms.
"Yeah, but I knew you two weren't going to accept the first reason I gave you and I just really wanted to see your guy's reaction," he animatedly shrugged his shoulders.
"Chūya."
"What?" he raised a brow.
"Push him off."
"Hold on I'm not done yet!" Dazai exclaimed, backing himself into the side of one of the many large cargo boxes you all were using to conceal yourselves, point a finger at the two of you as if to put you both on pause.
"This is gonna be so embarrassing to admit," he muttered to himself.
"Spit it out already asshole," Chūya gritted out through his teeth.
"I just didn't think I was good enough for both of you to be friends with me," he murmured.
You blankly stared at him, "Eh?"
Chūya's eyes widened at the words he heard, "Huh?" he turned to you, "Is he being for real right now? Did we hear the same thing?"
"Did he just say he thought he wasn't good enough for the two of us?" you asked.
"So we both heard the same thing then," he concluded.
"...Huh."
You both turn to look at Dazai who looked like he did actually want to get thrown into the water at this point despite his poker face and pink dusted on his cheeks and tips of his ears.
"Oh shit you're deadass about that," you realize aloud.
"This is what happens when I'm vulnerable," Dazai groans into his hands, seemingly semi-joking but still embarrassed and serious about it nonetheless.
Gently placing your hands on his, you slowly pry his hands away from his face. Dark eyes staring back at you with a tender gaze, "Your ability is really inconvenient," he sighed, putting his arms back by his side, "Couldn't even tell you were that close to me."
"You shouldn't worry about what we think of you or how little you think of yourself, alright?" you reassure him, reaching up to pat his head. "Besides, if we wanted to get rid of you we would've done so ourselves."
Chūya walks to be by your side. "Yeah, so don't pull that shit again you bastard."
Blinking slowly at the sight of two of his old friends in front of him, Dazai smiles. "Yeah yeah, I'll still leave you guys on delivered though."
"Wow, even after all this time you're still shitty," the Lorax incarnate scowled.
"I just poured my heart out to you and this how you treat me afterwards? What a disappointment," Dazai countered.
"That's the same thing your mom said when you came out of her vagina."
"Don't bring my mother into this you classless whore!"
"Kill your—! Wait you'd actually do that never mind," Chūya thought aloud.
"Awe you gained consideration Chūya?" the brunette teased.
"Die."
As their bickering grew louder and louder, you let yourself smile nostalgically at the sight. Quietly muttering, "Finally all that serious bullshit is out of the way, I hated that."
"Yeah let's not do that again," Chūya agreed.
"Wow I'm really being hated on and it hasn't even been five minutes," Dazai deadpans.
"Don't think just after this heart-to-heart conversation you'd be off the hook, the fuck? You owe us," the shorter friend stated.
"Can you pay for us when we go shopping later?" you ask, though it felt more so like a demand to Dazai.
Exhaling a loud, and dragged out, "Fine," from him, both you and Chūya mentally cheer for yourselves at the accomplishment of convincing him to do so, as the newly reunited trio walked to the parking lot.
'Friendship with a suicidal maniac, round two. Here we go.'
STICKY NOTES
if you’re really short then just pretend that dazai purposefully leaned down to let you pat his head which is also a habit you had ever since the trio first formed
dazai self-sabotaging is 100% canon guys (trust)
if you cringed at this dw cuz so did i 🤧
this is definitely the most i've written in a while so im proud of that
TAGLIST : @heeslovr @atlasnessie @cvidy @rattyrattyratty @chaos-inperson @almond-t0fu @zellwa @fyodorisbbg @lalalaloveallmydays @milksh-ke @phoenix-eclipses @saeandscaralover @stuffeddeer [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]
#round 2 🪞- dazai osamu#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x reader#bsd x reader#dazai smau#bsd smau#dazai x gn!reader#dazai x gn reader#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x y/n#dazai x y/n#dazai x you#bsd x gn reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd x you#bsd x y/n#bungo stray dogs x reader
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The Night Is Still Young
Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Nanami x f!reader
Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: One-night stand; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff, drinking, flirting, Nanami got rizz, suggestive, no smut.
Summary: You are exhausted from working the entire month and you need some stress relief. What's better than finding a gentleman at the club and things take a turn for good.
Author's Note: This was supposed to contain smut but I really hit writer's block. So here's a quick drabble with my husband Nanami. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it!
~ Nanami's Munchkin
“Shots! Shots! Shots!”
You shoot down the 6th shot of the night, the bitter liquid no longer tastes so bad anymore but the buzz keeps getting stronger.
It’s another Saturday and your plan was to stay home, sulking for the weekend but your friends had other plans.
You had just submitted your assignments and were exhausted beyond repair. Your friends were kind enough to give you an option (not really) between staying home and drinking your exhaustion away only to feel worse the next day – of course, you had to choose the latter.
“You know what would have been better than getting shitfaced tonight?” you asked your friends. Your friends roll their eyes, already knowing you are gonna bitch about being here again for the nth time but what you say next surprises them.
“If a man would fuck me so good that I see God,” you say in all seriousness.
“Damn she’s drunk drunk” your friends laugh at your confession.
You were neck deep into assignments for the past month. You didn’t leave your house except for going to the library to get shit done. So naturally, this also meant that you were frustrated mentally and sexually, needing nothing more than to melt your stress away.
So what could be a better way than coming to the club to find someone who can help you with it? For your friends, it might mostly be the alcohol talking, but you knew the motivating factor that really convinced you to step out tonight was yet to be met.
“So you’re here to find a guy to hook up with... but all you’ve done is cry about being here. Make it make sense?” your friend Mila counters.
“It’s cause there aren’t any hot guys in here!” you cry out loud. “You need to help me find someone. Please—“
You go quiet as your eyes land on the group of guys that enter the club. Your gaze is fixated on this tall buff guy with blonde hair. He has a tired look on his face that rivals your own and he is oh so handsome.
The thing that catches your interest is his outfit. He’s wearing a black dress shirt with tan pants. His shirt hugs his muscles so tightly that it might rip open any moment. He stood out amongst the crowd of boys who wore T shirts and cargos and called it a fit.
Your friends have already caught on to him with the way you were shamelessly checking him out. “Go talk to him,” your other friend Dia suggests.
“Oh God! He’s hot isn’t he!?” you whine.
“Girl, you have a type. And it’s always the stoic, uninterested men.” Mila interjects.
“You forgot the hot dilf body.” Dia chimes in.
You don’t realize that you haven’t taken your eyes off him until you see him catch you staring. You revert back to your friends with a groan.
“Oh shit.”
“Why are you still here? Go talk to him.”
“Urghh… he doesn’t look like a guy who would be interested, you know? I mean look at him. He looks like he was forced to be here,” You say, sneaking looks at him.
“Oh my! You always do this. You thirst over men but never make a move. This ain’t window-shopping! Stop acting like a bitch for once,” Mila states clearly annoyed.
“Don’t you get started, Mila. Why don’t you go ask out the guy at the coffee shop. Harry, was it? You even made me ask for his name! So stop calling me a bitch.” You snapped at her.
“You know what? Let’s make a deal, go dance with that man and I’ll ask Harry out.” Mila replies, her lips twisting in half a smile.
“Deal,” you say, shaking hands with her.
“But I need a little bit more of that liquid luck.”
You head to the bar, ordering two shots of tequila and instead of drinking it, you walk up to the mystery man.
“Hey there, handsome. Care to join me for a drink?” You say almost screaming over the loud music blaring in the background. You were so fixated on him that you didn’t notice his whole group was staring at you.
“Oh he won’t drink, he's a buzzkill, you know. But I can take you up on that offer, pretty girl,” a guy with white hair butts in and you give him an annoyed look.
“Leave her alone Gojo,” the blonde says, pushing the snow haired guy away. “Don’t mind him, he’s annoying that way. Sure I’d like that drink.”
He takes the shot glass from your hand and you click it before shooting it down together.
You move closer to him to introduce yourself so as to not scream in front of others.
He holds his hand out and says, “Nanami Kento, nice to meet you.” When you go to shake his hands, he gently lifts it to leave a small peck on the back of your hand and you feel chills run through your body.
“I didn’t know you got game, Nanamin,” the Gojo guy shouts. Nanami rolls his eyes and looks at you.
“Do you wanna—“ you both say at once which makes you laugh. “Go ahead,” he responds.
“I was gonna ask if you want to dance with me?” you ask, suddenly shy.
He nods, holding his hand out for you and leads you to the dance floor. “Hmm… didn’t know you were such a gentleman. You don’t look like the guy who goes clubbing on the weekends,” you tease him.
“Trust me I’m not. I was forced to join them. Need to keep them out of trouble,” he says with a sly smile while his hands move around your hips and you both sway around to the music.
“So, you are the daddy of the group, huh?” you ask, which comes out more seductive than you intended and you cringe slightly.
He spins you around so that your back is touching his chest and you take this opportunity to grind back on him.
He leans closer to your ear and says, “Umhmm… is that the reason you were undressing me with your eyes ever since I entered? Need daddy to take care of you, too?”
You turn around to face him and snake your hands around his neck. You have to stand on your tiptoes even with your heels on to reach him.
“So what if I do?” you look at him with dark eyes.
He pulls you into a messy kiss and you melt into it letting him take control. You don’t remember how long you’ve been making out in the middle of the dance floor.
You hear your friends hoot which makes you self aware about your surroundings. You pull away from the kiss breathlessly to look at your friends and give Mila a look to which she mumbles ‘okay, okay’ with a shrug while Dia gives you a thumbs up.
You look back at Nanami who witnessed the whole interaction. “What was that about?” he asks with a quizzical look.
“Argh… nothing. Just a stupid bet between friends.”
“Is that what I am? A stupid bet?” He asks feigning hurt which makes you chuckle, “So what was the bet? Get a kiss?”
“Well I could tell you the truth that it was just to dance with you or I could just lie and say that it was to get you to sleep with me,” You reply with your hands running over his biceps suggestively.
“Hmmm… the lie sounds much more convincing to me,” he says lowly in your ears.
“So Nanami-san, you gonna help me win the bet or not?” your hands move up to play with his undercut.
“How can I resist when you ask so nicely.”
~fin~
#nanamismunchkin#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsukaisen x reader#jjk#nanami smut#nanami kento#jujutsu nanami#jjk nanami#kento nanami#nanami x reader
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hc! first date & movie nights with van
van palmer x fem!reader
summary: first date with van and my personal movie related headcanons!!
pls let me know if i made a mistake, it's my first time writing for a non binary character and i dont wanna mess it up <3
warnings: van is non binary!!, established relationship and marriage (you lucky bastard), slightly domestic life at the end, cursing, no crash but huh..., reader and van being two awkward idiots at first, spoilers of movies i guess?, all the girls are friends, fluff, english mistakes and not proofread
- of course that your first date with van consisted in going out for movies and you were both SO excited!!
- you knew that van had a tough relationship with their mom and instead of going to their house to pick them up, they showed up at your door wearing a blue windbreaker jacket over a striped shirt and brown cargo pants, holding a vhs with a collection of vhs with movies that reminded them of you <33
- safe to say that you were both sweating like crazy and giving each other awkward smiles or saying nonsense just to fill the silence
- sometimes you or van would say the stupid shit ever. while waiting in line for tickets, a bunch of teenage boys walked by you carring footballs and van said "boys always have balls with them, don't they?"
- "what?" you ask, pursing your lips to avoid laughing like crazy
- "nothing."
- van would always be willing to have the entire movie theater experience and i think they would be happy to buy some popcorn and a lot of sweets if you liked it. but ever since their teenage years to adulthood, in movies like a quiet place, they would buy absolutely no food to avoid noises and would give people the death stare because they were chewing too loud (so right)
- either way, van wanted everything to be special and didn’t want to sound like a movie freak. surprisingly, this once the movie didn’t matter. it wasn’t the main attraction. you were.
- you chose primal fear with richard gere, trying your best to impress them. besides it was a crime thriller movie thing and if you ever get scared, you could ‘innocently’ hold their hand for reassurance
- obviously, van guessed the plot halfway the movie but didn't want to ruin it for you. in the last 30 minutes of the movie, you look at them with an invested look, whispering "i bet that aaron is a liar, he acts too innocent!" while nervously shoving more popcorn into your mouth
- van already knew that. but seeing you so focused on something they loved so much and actually excited about it made their heart melt "what? no way!" they try to sound surprised and do their best to pretend that they don't believe your theory.
- (they were so proud!!)
- "i can't believe you didn't saw that coming! it was so obvious, van!" you tease them as soon as you left the room, non-stop talking about the movie
- "shut up." but they didn't mean it. they were happily listening to your words and smiling the entire time, not being able to look away from you :(
- you and van went out for a milkshake after the movies and were discussing that first scene of scream where casey's boyfriend is tied up on a chair by ghostface. "that poot guy didn't even stand a chance!" you excitedly say as you sip on your chocolate milkshake. "it must be an awful day to die."
- "maybe you should tie me up!" van mutters with a sly smirk, knowing too well that it would made you blush
- you gasp, jaw dropped and pinkish cheeks while you tried to cover their mouth by leaning yourself from across the table
- standing in the porch of your house, van had their hands on your waist and your palms touch their face while you share your first kiss. you were both really nervous but their lips were so soft that you immediately felt relaxed. you could even taste the strawberry.
- when van and the girls would watch movies together, van would always beg to be the one to pick and make sure that it was the perfect choice. of course that perfect meant something longer than 2 hours and with a lot of social commentary or something considered weird. in horror, thriller or serial killer movies like scream, van and misty would be detective partners together and would probably figure what was going on in ten minutes and ruin it for everyone else
- (deeply believe that van would love the lobster in 2015 and would be happy to explain to you all of their theories or techniques used in the movie and why is it so good even though you were suspicious that they only watched it because of rachel weisz. you wouldn’t understand much but were always happy to hear your spouse talk about things they loved)
- that doesn’t mean that they don’t like some cheesy romcoms or something silly like but i’m a cheerleader or the duff. they were SO obsessed with biac when it came out and couldn’t stop talking about it for MONTHS!!
- “shit, shauna! that girl looks exactly like you!” nat gasped when all the girls decided to watch the movie with van knowing how much they liked it and how good it was for lesbians at the time. shauna rolled her eyes while everyone was laughing and chattering about how she was hilary’s lost twin or something
- “come on, you gotta choose!”when they finally agreed to watch the entire twilight saga, that was your first question as soon as the screen of your tv turned black. they had to choose between jacob or edward and you wouldn’t take no for an answer
- “are you serious? those movies are ridiculous! they are so unrealistic and stereotyped.” van adds, slouched on the couch. "and that weird baby looks exactly like rosemary's baby!"
- you and van lived together after getting married, duh, and every friday was considered movie night. van would close the video store earlier and you would run to the couch with big buckets of popcorn and cozy blankets
- “i know…” you can't help but giggle at the thought of that weird thing they used for renesmee. you also knew that your partner was right. but still, you needed an answer. you had spent hours of your day watching all of that nonsense and what hurt would do if they chose a side?
- “ok, fine.” they groan, wanting to make you happy despite all of their hate for those movies. “edward.”
- “yeah!” you celebrate van's choice, grabbing a bunch of popcorn with your hands. “i hate jacob, he’s so manipulative!” you add
- “okay, okay. don’t get all excited.” van gives you a death stare but you know that they don’t mean it when their lips are begging to curl up in a smile when seeing you excited. t hey disliked the movies, sure, but even though the movies and books were terrible van would always be happy to be near you all the time even if it meant to watch those stupid things.
- "that plot twist in the last movie was good. i'll give you that." and you smile at their attempt to compliment the movie and make you happy
- “but i don’t care about edward. i just don’t like wolves.” van shruggs and you look at themwith furrowed eyebrows. “what? why?”
- “i just have a bad feeling about them!” and you laugh.
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my miles g headcanons!
A/N: the ending scene in ATSV made me think a lot about what a Miles that never got to reach his full potential as Spider-Man would be like. so, here are some of the thoughts/speculation I wrote down! Ofc you can feel free to disagree with my interpretation since he's not even on screen for more than 5 minutes lol but this guides how I choose to write him.
Essentially, Earth 42 Miles is a Miles that has given up. Like 1610 Miles says to Uncle Aaron, he likely does not believe he has a choice.
Maybe he steals on top of a second job to help support his mother, leaving little to no time for school
He uses his genius to build the Prowler suit instead of the spidey suit
Doesn't enjoy stealing but makes money from it so he can. Afford shit
Same love for art and music as Miles, but his taste likely differs/has changed (42 Uncle Aaron doesn't play hip hop, instead he plays Bobby Bland). I imagine him to have darker tastes and a sadder playlist lol
He is not MEAN or EVIL, just tired and spread too thin. Perhaps a little angry that his future was stolen from him.
With no superheroes and a police force that would likely be rendered ineffective, maybe community efforts would be more prevalent in this version of Brooklyn...?
Maybe 42 Miles uses some of his earnings from being the Prowler to give back? Would be strange and out of character to me for a Miles in any universe to be excessively selfish (he might still buy himself nice stuff tho)
Calmer and a bit more direct than 1610 Miles (who has time to beat around the bush?)
Burdened with responsibilities, he would not have as many chances to have fun
Now getting too old to go on heists as often, Aaron locates jobs for Miles and takes him to the location
Both Miles are lying to their moms so that guilt is still there
He cannot see a way out and neither can his uncle so they are both trapped in a vicious cycle; everyone is resigned in some way
The Prowler suit looks obviously heavier than the spidey suit, but he's still able to jump around in it. This may require earth 42 miles to be a bit stronger
Based on the jacket and cargo pants (instead of 1610 miles' hoodie and puffa w shorts), Miles g might have a different/more "mature" sense of style.
Has a mix between his Uncle Aaron's accent and his mom's, as evidenced by the film (everybody say thank you Jharrel Jerome). His voice is "deeper", but only sounds that way because he speaks more with his lower register whereas 1610 Miles/Shameik speak from a slightly higher place most of the time. More of an observation than a headcanon skfjdk
Has probably gotten used to doing horrible things to survive, but it's still...well, Miles. I'd like to think he's still capable of kindness when he isn't the Prowler and isn't ruthless all the time. He's still just a kid!
#across the spider verse spoilers#spiderman across the spiderverse#miles g morales#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales#miles morales headcanons
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Ficbinding: Saw collection
Warning: long post
As you may have noticed, I recently got into Saw, and the fanfic quality is phenomenal. The writers in this fandom are exceptional and unafraid to write the kind of freaky shit I love. In a month, I've read enough amazing fics to fill a small book, so I did!
As usual, the fics come first. There are nine, by four different authors (I found writers I love right off the bat in this fandom).
By @theflirtmeister:
Our land is sharp and glorious (3.5k, E) (special mention to this one for being the first Saw fic I ever read <3)
Tell me sweetheart (1.6k, M)
What suits your taste (3.3k, E)
By @degloved (Wolverton on AO3):
See me bare my teeth for you (1.9k, E)
The Issue series (3 fics, 7.5k, E)
Pig on speed dial by @gurokatt (2.9k, E)
Helping hand (1.9k, E) is by an anonymous author I salute, wherever they are.
These are all great fics I wanted to bind to make rereads easier and I recommend them all strongly (just mind the tags). A big thank you to the authors for replying positively when I reached out, I hope this is a good surprise!
Now let's talk shop.
This is my smallest book to date, and I have a good reason for that. As silly as it sounds, I wanted to make a book that could fit in a pocket of Amanda's cargo pants^^ I chose red for the cover and black for the headbands and bookmark to mimic the Jigsaw coat. This cloth is amazing: the pictures above show the book in real lighting (I took them at the window to catch what light was left today). It's a non-uniform blood-like dark red, which is perfect for Saw. It's also slightly reflective, as if it were slick, as you can see in this video under artificial lighting:
I went crazy with the cogs, I know.
I'm very happy with the fonts I chose: "s'AWsome" for the title, "impact label" for the fic titles (reversed for the author names), "underway" for the drop caps and "reem kufi" for the body of the text.
I decorated this book more! Every fic starts with an image of an object related to Saw (I used chains, blades, a puzzle piece, a bear trap, a scar, etc...). I also put the title of the fic and the author's name at the top of the pages. I wish I could have put something between these and the page numbers, but it would have been too small to look good. I used barbed wire for breaks in the stories because of course I did.
I'm especially proud of the "underway" drop caps, look!
They look like fingerprints!!! The oily residue and everything, you know!
What didn't work?
This time, most of what I did worked perfectly. Well, I did have to print, cut, fold, sew and glue this three times because I made mistakes when trimming the textblock. But in the end it's fine because I don't think the uneven edges are jarring when it comes to a Saw collection. There's a small spot of glue on the cover that I'll be the only one to notice. I could have strenghtened the back less for a book this size, it would have made it bendier.
One the whole, I love this book and the stories inside it and, as a craftsman, I'm very proud of myself.
Reminder: Feel free to ask me about materials, fonts and tools, it won't bother me at all to tell you what I used, but I'm too lazy rn to write it in this post that's long enough already.
#I hope this will prompt some people to check out these fics#thanks again to the authors for being super cool because I'm always anxious to reach out <3#saw#ficbinding#bookbinding#coffinshipping#my bookbinding#I think that's enough tags for now
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entrail of faith — könig x reader
i have not properly written a fic or a snippet in so long, and I am physically aching to do so :3 plus, been obsessed with this man for like 3 months straight and it is NOT letting up— so, let me be indulgent, and nasty, and vile, and awesome while I cook up literary genius. (pls do not read my stuff if ur a minor ily mwah)
i hope u like :3 (cuz if u do I'm writing more)
cw: mentions of sex, force, and kidnapping, reader is mostly oblivious, Konig is just nasty and I'm shameless about it
synopsis(sorta): König has been a little crazy stalker, and you finally get close enough for him to make a move
———————————————————————
Konig was a good man, a routine man. His mother and grandmother had beaten manners into him, and daddy had his face shoved into a bible every Sunday morning. Everything was intentional, down to the way he stored his razors, all the way deep down to the way he shamefully ruts into his calloused palm each night. It all mattered— obsessively mattered.
Konig was a good man, a strong man. He tried so hard to keep his thoughts pure, be gentle with himself and others— lumbering about as if he were an animal latched to a ball and chain, a monster in the eyes of rookies and civilians alike— but he tried.
He can kill a man in less than ten seconds without a weapon, five with. He can dismember a corpse, and make someone seem as if they had never existed to begin with— he isn't a man of softness, he isn't a man who deserves a gentle hand, only his own thick mits that've been stained with decades of blood.
He wasn't a man of softness—until he saw you. Effortless you. With your smile, the flowery trail of scent that tickled his nose in your wake, those fucking eyes— Konig tried to be a good man, but he wanted to so badly see them glossed over, heavy with arousal and desperation. How they'd roll when he—
Konig tried to be a good man.
— Sir? Are you ready to order?
Scheiße. Those eyes again, the way they fluttered— it was almost enough to distract him from the way that dingy little waitress get-up clung to your all-encompassing frame— and hearing the word sir so obediently drip from your swelled lips made his cock twitch in his pants. Thank God he'd opted for the cargos today, and thank him again because you were such a good girl, you'd never peek.
Not that you'd have a chance, he loomed over you even at seated height— forcing your eyes up to meet his, seeming just much too big for the booth he shoved himself in— but, he was still shameless in the way his eyes roamed over you. At least you had the assurance he'd tip well.
— Ah- Ja, sorry Kätzen..
He cleared his throat, nervously tugging at the lip of his black surgical mask, his eyes darting about behind thick sunglasses. You're so pretty— what was he doing again? Ah, right, food. He wasn't hungry, not for anything they had here, except for you— but that wouldn't be a suitable answer, no, not for a precious little thing like you.
He could practically taste the aura that rolled off of you, you were no whore.
— Coffee- black, please. If it's not too much trouble.
Of course it wasn't too much trouble, it was your job. He was cursing himself internally, saying such stupid things to such a lovely girl. It would be easier if you were stuffed with his girth already, crying and spluttering as you struggled to fit him properly— he wouldn't say stupid shit then, but then you giggle- oh, fuck, you giggle and all the sudden he needs a freezing cold shower.
— Of course not, sir, will that be all?
Sweet girl, you should know not to smile at a man like that. Not a man like him, especially when his mind is full of bending you over this table and ruining that pretty head of yours.
— Yes, thank you, schätzchen.
He hoped you didn't know German, he hoped you were oblivious enough to let the way he was ripping your clothes to shred with his eyes go unnoticed— and of course, because you're such a good girl, it did.
— My pleasure- I'll be back in just a moment.
You are so polite, so sweet and efficient. He'd been watching you for a time now, the way you'd bustle about the café, being so kind even when majority of the creatures in here didn't deserve your time of day, not like he did— no, not anything like he did.
If he had it his way, you'd never work again. He'd throw money at you like it was a religion, give you all the codes and numbers to every bank account in his name— let you go on a spending spree, spoil you with fine lace and even better food. KorTac paid him enough, and he didn't spend a dime unless he needed something— unless he was indulging in you.
If he had it his way, you'd be dumb and obedient, you'd placate yourself to being his sweet little toy— and, oh, how he'd reward you for it. He'd keep you full of his seed, and happy with whatever object caught your affections, he'd build a goddamn castle for you. He'd never deny you a thing, as long as you kept looking at him like the most important person to exist— even if you were just doing your job.
— Your coffee, sir— oh, and careful, I just had them brew it.
Oh, you're such a darling. Fresh coffee? Just for him? You might as well give him your ring size now, he hopes you want kids.
— Lovely, Schatz, thank you.
— Of course, enjoy.
He almost felt crestfallen as you placed the bill next to him, and sauntered away, but your swaying hips could heal even the most shattered bones. Angels above, you were such a perfect thing— so innocent and lovely, you'd need to be protected, you'd need to be saved.
The heat of the coffee was nothing compared to the widely gaped blood vessels under his skin— breath threatening to catch everything he got a glimpse of you traipsing about. He had to make sure you were well distracted every time he dove in for a sip, you couldn't see his face, not yet.
If he were a better man, a more confident man, he'd leave you his number. He'd clean himself up, start a good conversation with you— take you to a fine dinner, even though he so hated the idea of something so insanely public. If he were half the man he held himself as, he wouldn't be salivating over you in an empty corner of the café.
Konig tried to be a good man, but he was slimy. He was a pervert, a danger— he'd never harm anyone— save for the men whose blood stained his hands, but he'd found himself craving indulgence in dark fantasies more than once. He was nasty, he was a monster, but he wanted to be soft for you. Simply, he wanted you, but his therapist would strongly advise against it— counseling that maybe, just maybe it's not best for his obsessive psyche.
Whatever, you'd learn to love it.
He had his reluctant fill of ogling, the tightening of his pants becoming too much to ignore, and the clatter of dishes becoming grating on his sensitive ears— he had to leave at some point. His coffee cup had long run dry, and he hadn't had the courage to waive you over for another.
If he were a better man, he'd leave you his number, but a crisp hundred to cover the bill— and leave you a tip to keep you fed— would definitely suffice. He tucked it under his coffee mug shamefully, wishing he just had the sack to speak to you— but that irritating fear of rejection always held him just at arms length.
How badly he wished he could just take you.
Everything else that wasn't you was boring, the streets were dull and gray, and rain drizzled like piss— just another way for God to mock him, punishment for his lustful behavior. Father would have a field day with him, if only he knew.
He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his soft-shell coat, rain pattering against it in an almost melodic sound. Nothing like your voice, though, oh nothing like that sound.
— Sir!
See, nothing like it, and he can't stop imagining it.
— Sir, you forgot your phone!
Oh, oh, he's not imagining that.
He whips around almost too fast, seeing you skirt on your heels as you stop your quick advance in front of him— his phone outstretched in a waiting hand. You really were such a lovely thing.
— Oh! Gott.. thank you, liebling— would have lost my head.
He wished he sounded.. cooler, smoother. But, he sounded like an inexperienced teen, stuck in a giants body. Always cringing at the sound of his own voice, but you smile and his world just fucking shifts— he couldn't give a shit how he sounded.
— it's- it's no worry, sir, I understand that.
Oh, your laugh, it's so sweet. He wants to touch you, grab you and squeeze you.
— I wanted to thank you actually- for the tip, I mean.. that was very generous of you—..?
You pause, trailing off as you look up at him. You want something, oh what is it maus? Anything. Say it, tell him— Oh, you want his name. His name. He has to fight the grin on his face.
— König— and do not worry yourself, Maus, it is no trouble. You work hard.
Now he's nonchalant, now he's found his groove. Keep being so humble, keep pretending like you don't want him to shower you in his endless wealth; keep looking up at him with those eyes that would be so much prettier coated in tears as you gagged on his thickness.
— Well, regardless, thank you, König.
Fuck, the way those pretty lips move with the pronunciation of his name— and you didn't miss a single vowel, what a good girl, what a smart girl. Oh, how he wanted to praise you like the good puppy you are, a collar with his name attached would be so pretty on you.
— Truly, Schatz, don't mention it— but, uhm-
Ah, he trailed, his fingers fidgeting with the lint of his pocket. Did he say it? Did he go for it? Either she'd be creeped, and run, or she'd be flattered— maybe even accepting. He had to keep it black and white, or he'd explode.
— Do you mind if I give you my number, liebling? I'd uh- I'd very much like to see you.. more.
Oh, he sounded like a fucking fool, and you looked so cute and patient; he was so used to drunken one-night stands, or shooting blanks into his hand when one just wasn't enough— this was so much harder when you looked like a literal angel to him, and not some cheap bimbo.
So patient, he wondered if you'd be like that while he railed you— even when you couldn't take it anymore. You were blushing, and he wanted to add tears to it, you were nervously fidgeting with your fingers, and he imagined them around his cock.
— Not at all, sir..
Today's a beautiful day. A lovely day even, the clouds had split just for him to bask in the loveliness of heaven's light— you sweet angel, you had no idea what you'd signed yourself up for.
— Perfekt. Hand me your phone, little one.
And you did, almost eagerly, such a good girl already. Following his orders so nicely, of course you did, even unlocking it before you passed it over.
His fingers never felt so nimble over a touchscreen, typing in his contact as if it were as easy as breathing— you seemed so shy, so nervous, it only made him confident. You made him confident, and he couldn't get enough.
— There you are, send me a text later, hm?
He hands the phone back grinning, he'd reward her for being so compliant— maybe work her open on his fingers just for now, a window of opportunity was wide open for him, and you were blushing all innocent and star-struck in front of him. He could not wait to ruin you.
— Yes, sir- König.. I'll do that. See you later!
— See you, maus.
Oh, you're so cute. You're so shy and it letting him read you like a filthy book. He knew you hadn't been taken care of, he knew you desperately needed satisfaction— and he'd give it to you tenfold, a sweet little thing like you deserved it. Especially since you did such a good job of hiding it behind that precious little smile.
Those eyes, they told him everything.
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pt.2 :3
#könig x reader#könig cod#konig mw2#omg i love him#cod konig#konig modern warfare#he's crazy and I'm living for it#i want him so bad#i desire him carnally#stalker :3#bad nasty boy#Dirty man
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Would you possibly consider doing a sex pollen fic with Commander Mills and the ☁️ prompt 6? 💛💛💛 thank you
“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭…”
pairing: Commander Mills x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+. Sex-Pollen, so Dub-Con by default. Oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, cumming in pants, lalala Jasmine’s a slutttt
mills masterlist | main masterlist | follower celebration | taglist
Dread drips from your pores, manifesting in sweat. It should have been obvious not to touch the bright red petals of the flowers blooming from the bush in the forest. Red equals danger, after all- but it had been so pretty.
Being childish, trying to bring a smile to Mills’ stern face, you’d pushed the flower into his ebony hair. He’d scowled at first, but kept it tucked behind his ear.
The sweats had started not long after, heat blooming through your body and roasting you from the inside. Then the arousal. It crawled across your body, ripping you up internally. Fuck, you’d never been so horny, and Mills looked so fucking good— the perspiration settled in his clavicle called to you, tongue desperate for a taste.
The aloof personality of the Commander had dropped away almost instantly, pushing you into the forest grass and undressing you with an animalistic force, seams of your cargo pants tearing.
Tongue buried in your dripping cunt, Mills groaned loudly as he pushed his erection into the forest floor, grinding his hips for purchase. Each delighted hum from his chest vibrated against your cunt, and you came with a shriek of his name. Again.
“Oh my god- ohmygodohmyghohhhhh-“ you ramble, falling into a pathetic wail of bliss as you push your hips up into his face, clit bumping his nose. He plunges his fingers deeper inside of you, tracing your g-spot with deft fingers.
“Fuck,” he pants heavily, looking up at you through his lashes with those eyes, dripping like honey. His mouth is soaked, glistening in the sunshine. “Your pussy tastes so sweet…”
“Ugh-Hah-Hah- Oh fuck,” you squeal, feeling everything pull up tight. “I’m gunna fucking cum again, oh my god, ImgonnafuckingcumaGAIN-“
“C’mo-“ He cuts himself off, wrapping his lips around your cunt and swallowing you down, flicking his tongue over your clit viciously. When you cum, it rattles your bones. Rips through you like liquid heat that makes you sob loudly, body trembling with the force of your tears.
“Hah- Oh shit-“ Mills’ shoulders stiffen beneath your palms, his hips rutting into the soil beneath him. He’s panting heavily, letting out pained groans and rambling to himself.
“Fuck, Baby’s pussy is so wet, isn’t it? So fucking sweet and tasty. Could fucking drown in it- ohfuck,” he spit out, his hand splayed over your abdomen. “Just another taste. Just one more tas-“
You try to escape it, pulling your hips away from the overstimulation, but Mills swipes his tongue through your folds once more, body seizing up as he cums with a devastated groan, his nails digging into the flesh of your stomach.
“Oh- Mills-“ you sob out, eyes rolling back into your skull as an orgasm rocks you again.
#commander mills fanfic#commander mills x reader#commander mills x you#commander mills x female reader#commander mills#mills x reader#commander mills x f!reader#commander mills smut#65 movie#65 movie fanfiction#65 million years ago#65 movie fanfic#adcu fic#adcu community#adcu fanfiction#adcu x reader#adcu smut#adam driver#adam driver fanfic#adam driver smut#adam driver x y/n#adam driver x you#adam driver x reader#adam driver fic#જ⁀➴ mail: received#✩‧₊˚ 6k follower celebration ˚₊‧✩
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A Story of Another Us- Chapter Seven
Warnings- Swearing, mentions of sick animals, masturbation and perving (kinda), LOOOOTTTTSSS of sexual tension
It was like be a child all over again, falling asleep somewhere and waking up in her own bed, although it was usually the security guard of the club her mother worked at that was carrying her up to the little fold out bed that was set up for her in the dressing rooms. Unless Dwayne now worked on Dragon Stone Ranch then Dahlia woke up with no idea how she had gotten into bed. It wasn’t until midday that she managed to find out.
Alicent had whisked Aegon off with her to some meeting with a media company to get the farm some more recognition and funding, leaving Dahlia and Aemond to tend to all of the animals on the farm. The mud was sloppy beneath her wellies as she trudged over the open field towards the metal ring feeder that Aemond was fighting to close as the cows herded around him eating greedily.
‘Just wait a second you fat prick’ she heard Aemond grumble as he was nudged and nipped.
‘Looks like you’re having fun’ Dahlia teased as she pushed her way through the large heifers and helped him close the metal frame around the bale of hay.
Aemond only offered her a stare of discontent before pushing his way through to continue with his jobs.
‘Do you know how I got to bed last night? I can’t remember if I woke up to go up or not’ Dahlia blushed lightly at the idea of having fallen asleep in front of everyone.
‘Yeah, I er… I took you up… you were out cold’ Aemond chuckled gently while scrubbing the cattle’s grooming brushed against each other.
Dahlia’s face now burnt hot! He had carried her up to bed! She could have been snoring! What if he thought she was heavy?! What if she had drooled on him?! Never having wanted the floor to swallow her up more, she offered him a nervous smile.
‘Oh thank you! You should have just woken me up!’
‘I tried but you couldn’t hear me over your snoring, you might wanna get that checked out’ Aemond teased, forcing himself to keep his face straight while he looked at her.
‘Oh god’ Dahlia cringed.
‘I’m joking! You were fast asleep and I didn’t wanna disturb you’ Aemond grinned, proud at the annoyed look that was painted across her face.
‘You’re such a dick’ she grumbled back at him with a growing grin on her face.
The light breeze that washed over them carried a few birds songs from the shrubbery that surrounded the farm, and the gently hum of traffic from the nearby carriageway. It also held the raw scent of Aemond, the rich leather aroma weaving it’s way through Dahlia’s senses and almost making her head swirl. Gods he smelt good, even standing in a field of cattle and their droppings all she could smell was him.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked eagerly, before she started salivating.
‘You could brush that annoying fuck for me, she wouldn’t stop walking away from me’ Aemond grumbled pointing to one of the brown heifer twins that tenanted their farm and passing her the brushing paddle that he had shoved in one of the pockets of his cargo pants.
‘You’re ridiculous!’ she laughed as she began gently grooming the animal as it feasted.
Aemond stopped attempting to put an antiseptic cream of the piercing wound of the cow Dahlia had treated a few weeks back, to give her an expectant look.
‘These are some of the gentlest , most beautiful caring animals you will find in this kind of job! You act as though they were hideous evil beasts!’
‘They’re lazy, they do nothing but eat and shit and they stink!’ he states back to her in a very matter of fact tone.
‘They do not! they are amazing animals you’re just a grumpus’ Dahlia grumbled, ignoring the raised eyebrow he offered her at her curious choice of insult.
‘I’ll agree that they taste great but that’s as far as it goes’
‘Aemond!’ Dahlia gasped, quickly grabbing the ears of the cow she was grooming.
‘Oh don’t cover its ears!’ he laughed at her.
‘They just don’t have the same personality that horses do, there’s no intellect in them they’re… blank’ he explains.
‘There’s actually been studies done proving them to be quite intelligent, there was an experiment done where a cow followed sound through a maze to find a food source showing they have the ability to make decisions and they can hold a grudge so I’d mind your tongue around these lovely ladies’ Dahlia grinned at him as he shook his head at her.
The pair finished their duties with the cattle and allowed Vhagar to herd them back into their open field where they pastured. Aemond and Dahlia tidied the barn back to an acceptable standard before heading back towards the road to head home.
‘How can they hold a grudge? What to they have to be… grudgy about?!’ Aemond asked Dahlia curiously as both of their wellies squelched through the wet soggy mud.
‘Lots of things, if another cow threatens them or their calf. If a bull were to take a liking to another cow over them. If a human was threatening or abusive to them they have extremely advanced social skills’ she grins up at him as she notices their steps fall into stride with each other.
It happened so quickly to quick for her to do anything about it. As Aemond opened his mouth to make yet another comment, the ground beneath his feet turned into a slip and slide. The wet mud did little to soften his fall as his long legs flew up almost as high as his stomach and he crumbled to the floor. Landing on his back with a discomforting wet slap he groaned from the sheer contact of his body meeting the floor. Dahlia couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth as she looked at him wincing on the floor. It only took a second of his looking up at her from the floor, mud flecked over his face and in his platinum hair, before she burst out laughing.
Dahlia held her stomach as her eyes watered and she continued to howl out laughter. The look on his face as he hit the floor would be imprinted in her brain forever. Her laughter died off the second she felt the warmth of his big hand wrapping around her ankle through her wellie, she could barely let out a small plea before she followed his tracks through the air and landed almost right on top of him. The left side of her chest pressed flush against his while the other lay absorbing the moisture from the damp floor. They both groaned in pain as her body collided with his on the floor, her ginger hair now having been dunked on the mud looking similar to his own.
‘Oh you’re such a prick’ she grumbled at him as her body wracked with a dull ache.
‘That’s what you get for laughing at me you bitch’ Aemond chuckled gruffly, placing his hands against her hips to try and deter her from moving her knee any higher into his crotch.
Dahlia released a breathy laugh as she leant up enough to look down at him lay underneath her. His purple eyes glimmered as he looked up at her with shaded eyes, having given in to the strain in his neck and letting his head sit in the wet mud beneath him. Even with the dirt spattered across his face he was still by far the most beautiful man she had ever seen, His pale skin seemed to sparkle even on the dullest day, almost like he was a marble statue standing on a pedestal in the famous museum that contained precious artifacts of old Valyria.
The flick of his amethyst iris’ shooting down to her parted lips pulled Dahlia from her admiration of him. She watches his eyes scan over her lips, looking at them unphased by the shift in her breathing or the way her body had tense against him. Her hands curling into themselves gripping at his chest, Dahlia took a deep breath in feeling Aemond’s hands tighten their hold on her hips ever so slightly, his fingertips burns holes into her being that would be perfectly fit for him. Her mind hazed over and she didn’t allow herself to think about what she was doing, didn’t let herself think about how it was her best friends brother that lay beneath her, whose nose she brushed with her own, whose breath fanned over her face.
The popping of heavy tires rolling over the gravel drive tore the two of them out of their bubble and back into the world around them, their attention being driven to the vehicle approaching the turn in to the farm. Dahlia, having looked over her shoulder, turned back to look at Aemond, him having lifted his head off the mud to inspect the interruption. Not sure whether the air between them was now heavy with tension, Dahlia scanned over his features looking for any give. Relieved to see the gentle amused smile he offered her she chuckled back gently before climbing to her feet, offering him a hand to aid him in his ascent.
‘You have a bit of mud in your hair’ Dahlia teased as they continued their walk.
‘Dickhead’ Aemond grinned shaking his head as he watched his feet carefully move through the slippery earth.
Once reaching the stables Aemond offered a small wave and the promise of ‘seeing her later’ before he joined a tall figure of a man waiting for him at the entrance of the building. With a messy attempt of platting her hair to get the mud out of the way, Dahlia continued on with her chores. The sheep were fed and watered before she moved on to filling the chickens grandpa feeders, she stood pouring the grain from her bucket into the metal stand when she caught movement on the other side of the farm. Aemond appeared from the Stables with the exotic figure that had ripped them from their almost intimate moment. A distressed look graced Aemond’s face as he rubbed his hand over her filthy head of hair. Catching his attention as she walked to the mesh fence of the chickens enclosure Aemond trudged his way over, meeting her at the fence.
‘You okay?’ Dahlia asked concerned.
‘Erm Balerions… Cole found a lump on his stomach, could just be a cyst but… could be something worse’
‘Oh my god’
‘He’s gonna take him for a scan and take some bloods…mum’s gonna be crushed’ Aemond grumbled, leaning his elbows on the fence and burying his face into his hands.
‘Is he your mum’s horse?’ Dahlia questioned softly, watching Criston Cole drive his trailer down towards the stables.
‘No he was my dads, last thing she has of him not that she ever really bothers with him. There was a whole bunch of drama when dad passed over who was going to keep him us or my sister, mum fought tooth and nail to keep him here’ Aemond sighed, looking up at her where she stood straight in front of his hunched over form.
‘Well hopefully it won’t be anything too serious’ Dahlia offered him a comforting smile, squeezing his arm gently.
‘Do you need me to do anything?’
‘No I’m just gonna help get him in the trailer’
‘Well I’m gonna go take a shower and stuff but if you need me for anything just give me a shout okay?’ she smiled at him, exiting the chicken coop and beginning up the hill to the house.
Aemond agreed with a small nod and watched her stroll up the grass, her hips swinging gracefully, mesmerizing him even if she was covered in mud.
Dahlia had managed to dodge questions hurled at her by Haelena over why her fathers horse was being taken off the farm, feeling it best to leave that topic for Aemond to explain. Her hot shower worked wonders getting the dirt out of her hair and off her hands and face but it did little to wash away the memory of being lay on top of his hard toned body, his breath fanning over her face from being so close, still sweet from the candied oranges Haelena had offered everyone for breakfast.
Opting for her gym leggings and an oversized jumper Dahlia returned downstairs to assist in the making of dinner, Baela had suggested making a pasta bake as something easy to get the family through the heavy news that Aemond had just delivered to his mother. She watched through the kitchen door as Aemond sat comforting a weeping Alicent.
‘So what’s going on with you two?’ Baela questioned, pulling her gaze from the sorrowful family.
‘What?’ Dahlia asked confused with expecting looks she was receiving from Jace, Luke and Rhaena, who had been instructed to set the table.
‘You and Aemond?’ Baela pressed
‘What about us?’ she continued playing innocent.
‘Come on! It’s so obvious that there’s… heat between you guys, I saw the look last night!’ Baela grinned while continuing to dish up the pasta bake evenly onto plates.
Dahlia scoffed in disbelief, like the very idea of her having sexual tension with what she believed to be one of the most attractive men she had ever met was unthinkable.
‘Oh look she’s blushing’ Luke teased
‘There is nothing between me and Aemond! We’re just friends!’ Dahlia attempted to defend herself.
‘Oh right friends… didn’t you guys hate each other like two days ago?!’ Rhaena joined in.
‘Who hated who two days ago?’ Aegon questioned joining them in the kitchen, along with a teary Alicent and Haelena and an exhausted Aemond.
‘Dahlia and Aem-‘ Rhaena started blurting out before Jace clamped his hand over her mouth and Baela yelled over her.
‘DINNERS READY!’
Everyone seated themselves and tucked into their dinner, eating mainly in silence other than the short conversations that Aegon attempted to break the heavy silence. Alicent didn’t stay for post dinner conversation, vacating the kitchen as soon as she had eaten her fill. Aegon retreated to his room not long after to avoid having to help clean up.
Aemond retreated out to the bench that sat just outside of the sliding kitchen doors, slumping down onto the wooden seat and letting out the breath he felt he had been holding in all night. His head was pounding and his back was hurting from the tumble and he just wanted to sleep but the grey clouds looming over head made him aware that his jobs for the day were likely not finished.
His eye focused on the stables just down the hill, the building that should be housing the big stallion, he sat just staring out over the land, feeling his chest get tight at the unpredictability of the test results. How was he supposed to wait two days to find out?! The rain began to patter against the ground lightly, granting him a soothing white noise while he sat out on his own.
The doors slid open after a half hour and interrupted his serenity with the chatter and radio music pouring out of the kitchen.
‘Hey, you okay?’ Dahlia asked gently, sliding the doors shut behind her.
‘Yeah, just getting a bit loud in there and my heads booming’ He smiled, trying to playoff the severity of the pain resonating behind his eye.
Dahlia didn’t say a thing before disappearing back inside, leaving the doors open behind her. Aemond sat watching the space that she had just vacated before she returned with a glass of water and a box on pain killers. She nudged his leg with her knee prompting to slide over and allow to sit next to him.
‘Here’ she mumbled handing him the glass and tablets.
‘Thank you’ Aemond grimaced after throwing them in his mouth and gulping the water down.
He leant back in his seat and huffed, nibbling on the dry skin on his lip and watching the rain that continued at a relenting pace.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ Dahlia asked, hoping to be able to relieve some of the pressure he was so obviously feeling.
‘Not really, just got to wait for the test results and go from there… I just have no idea what’s gonna happen if it comes back as something worse than a cyst’ he grumbled rolling his head back onto his shoulder, his long silver hair now clean and tied loosely in a messy bun at the base of his neck.
‘This isn’t your fault you know’ she said abruptly, meeting his eye when it shot to her.
‘You’re obviously blaming yourself but you couldn’t have known’
‘Bullshit, I was the one that was supposed to be looking after him, I was the one that mum trusted to take care of him and I’ve missed a lump the size of a golf ball!’
‘Anyone could have missed it! Besides if he was in pain or feeling off he would have let you know and you know he would have, there isn’t anything you could have done differently’
‘Cole found it!’ he argued, standing up and leaning forward against the small wooden fence opposite the bench.
‘I should have been checking him properly instead of just running over him with a brush, I should’ve paid more attention, I should’ve-‘
‘Aemond there is nothing you could have done, even if you had been the one to find it! He would still have to have the tests’ she retorted, sitting up straighter and examining all the curves of his back.
‘I just don’t think mum is gonna be able to deal with it if it’s bad news, she’s gonna be a wreck’ he mumbled.
‘Well then you’ve got Hel and Aegon to help you get her through it and you guys are stuck with me for another few weeks so’ Dahlia offered him a comforting smile as she stood to stand next to him.
‘That doesn’t make me feel better’ he chuckled lightly.
‘And here I was feeling bad for laughing at you falling before… look just don’t assume it’s going to be bad news, it could be nothing’.
Aemond inhaled deeply and straightened his back, making him tower over her small form. He dodged her eye contact for a moment, trying to let himself untense.
‘You’re right… it could be nothing I’m just… it’s been a shitty day’ he sighed.
‘Oh I don’t know, seeing you lying in the mud brightened my day up’ Dahlia smirked.
‘It’s a good thing you’re cute you know otherwise you’d be on your ass right now’ Aemond grinned, chuckling at her until he realised what had slipped out of his mouth.
Dahlia locked eyes with him and couldn’t help the blush that crept up her neck, her face growing hotter by the second, she didn’t miss the same colour peaking through his porcelain skin. The eye contact between them became too heavy for her to uphold and she averted her gaze to her right, watching the rain fall grow alarmingly heavy as black clouds loomed overhead, promising a stormy night.
‘We should probably make sure all of the bales are covered’ Dahlia muttered, her heart pounding in her ears as her blood rushed through her body, he thought she as cute!
‘Yeah, I should probably check in on the horses’ Aemond stuttered back, not waiting for her to grab her coat or even grab his own before wandering out into the heavy downpour, shirt becoming saturated and clinging to his form almost instantly.
Dahlia couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto her face as his obvious discomfort, she liked that she had that effect on him. Adorning her raincoat and wellies, she padded her way down and off the farm with Aegon, assisting him in ensuring all of the animals in his care were okay and sheltered, making sure that their stock of Hay was wrapped or in a dry place away from the downpour.
‘Malary!’ Haelena yelled at the duck waddling away from her, after having just nipped at her finger causing the woman to drop the bird allowing it to wander back to the puddle in which she had just collected it from.
‘I’ll usher her from this way you just get ready to open the door!’ Aegon yelled over the clashing of rain as he joined his sister in the small, fenced pen.
Watching her best friend chasing small birds through the pouring rain with her brother filled Dahlia’s chest with something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It could have been envy, seeing Haelena have the family dynamic that she had dreamed of having since she was a child. It could have been joy from seeing her best friend so happy, loved the way she deserved or it could have been that she was feeling accepted as one of the family, that she was part of something that wasn’t toxic and set to destroy her.
Her attention was pulled away from the siblings by a loud clatter and an indistinct yell from inside the barn. Upon entering she found Aemond struggling to lead SunFyre into the same pen as Meleys. She let out a small chuckle at the sight of him soaked to the core, arguing with a horse and fighting with a wooden gate, all while trying not to get trampled by the panicking horse already in the enclosure.
‘Once you’re done laughing, would you mind helping me out?’ Aemond grumbled, seeing her in the doorway just watching him.
The rain hammering on the roof of the stables only made Meleys all the more nervous, Aemond allowed Dahlia to take control of SunFyre while he entered the pen first and did his best to calm the animal down. Once they had both horses inside, they began fitting their reins and tying them off onto the hitching post.
‘SunFyre is his calming buddy right?’ Dahlia asked while threading the leather rein through the loop she had created.
‘Well, it’s usually Balerion but Meleys seems to get on with SunFyre so he should be good’ Aemond answered from behind her.
The pair of them were wedged between the two horses, backs almost flush against each other while they secured the Palfreys. The more the horses stomped and wiggled about the more the pair were pressed into each other. She couldn’t feel his warmth or toned back through her raincoat but she could smell him, the intense scent of his aftershave mixed with the dampness of the down pour that had soaked through his shirt. Dahlia could barely concentrate on her hands while her brain was swimming in him.
‘Shit’ she whispered when her knot came undone almost instantly, SunFyre managed to stomp away from the rear wall slightly.
‘Here’ His voice rumbled down her ear as he turned his body in the small space to face SunFyre, his body pressing against hers, his arms coming around her and guiding her hands to tie a secure knot.
Dahlia’s mind was drowning, his breath fanning over her ear and neck, her ass cheeks fitting into the curve of his crotch perfectly, she felt like she was going to scream. Her entire body was on fire, delicious shivers running through her body leaving her with goosebumps. Once his long fingers were done guiding hers through the process of securing the horse, he retracted his left arm while the right patted down the smooth coat. Dahlia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to move herself out of the heated situation. She only got as far as turning slightly to walk away but was blocked by his arm that was still petting SunFyre, she could feel his eyes burning into her. Dahlia caved almost instantly and turned to face him. Her back now brushing against the soothing horse, her chest grazed over his with each breath they took, reluctantly her eyes lifted and found his looking right back at her, searching her eyes for any sign of reluctance or regret. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be able to see how much she was burning for him, how badly she wanted him to just grab her and take her right there, or if she should just act as though he had no effect on her, like he was just another guy, the same guy that she almost loathed a few days ago.
Dahlia didn’t have much time to decide before she felt Aemond’s left hand on her side, his big fingers splaying out across hip, pressing into her flesh through her clothing. The heat from his breath spread a tingling warmth across her cheeks as his head moved closer to her, Aemond didn’t break eye contact with her, not when her breath hitched or when her hand moved and pressed against his chest softly, gripping his shirt tightly. It wasn’t until he felt his nose brush against hers and smelt her hot sweet breath floating over him, did he move his eyes to look down at her lips. Dahlia’s eye lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes, the faintest brush of their lips setting her on fire. She waited, waited to feel his mouth envelope hers, to see what he tasted like and to feel that rush of finally getting to kiss him. She waited… and waited but it never came. What came instead what the sound of boots slapping through the rain and wet mud outside and then a voice, that pulled them straight from the steamy situation they had happily found themselves in.
‘Hello?! Can someone come and help me cover the plant beds? They’re flooding!’ Jace’s voice boomed off the walls of the stables over the rain.
Aemond closed his eyes and released gentle sigh, his fingers digging into hips a little as Dahlia pulled her head back and inhaled deeply.
‘Yeah I’ll be out now!’ she managed to choke out, her heart still pounding in her ears but still able to hear Jace walk away.
Aemond’s iridescent purple eyes scanned through hers, both of them still a little breathless. Dahlia broke the eye contact and looked down at her boots, swallowing heavily before ducking under his arm that was blocking her exit, leaving him stood there. She followed Jace out of the barn back into rain, she almost slipped in the wet mud as she jogged over to where Jace was struggling to get the dustsheet evenly over the plant beds.
She could still smell his breathe, his aftershave in her. Hells she could practically taste him! Dahlia’s head was swimming with pictures of kissing him, touching him and being consumed by him! She imagined his tongue would taste like chamomile tea and spiced apples. His bare chest would be hard but his pale skin would be warm under her hands, his hair would float through her fingers like silk and it would smell like the guava shampoo she assumed he used.
Aemond watched her walk away from the stables from his position leaning against the door, he loathed his nephew for pulling her out of his arms, almost as much as he loathed her raincoat from covering her behind. Pulling all of his strength together Aemond pulled himself back to securing his horses and padding out their stalls with extra straw.
She hadn’t said anything she had just walked out like they weren’t seconds away from kissing! This was the second time today they had been on the brink of falling of the edge of that cliff, where there was no coming back from that heat. Was she just trying to get into his head? Using her body to make him vulnerable before crushing his ego and humiliating him?! Aemond knew that was farfetched, she wasn’t the type of girl to demean herself like that just to embarrass him. Maybe it was the fact that he was her best friend’s younger brother, that she didn’t want to jeopardize her friendship with Haelena over what could potentially turn out to be just a fling. Or perhaps she was feeling just as frustrated and confused as he was, with all the fleeting touches and heavy breathing.
Whatever the reason was, he had made his way from the stables, through the rain and up the stairs towards her room. Either he could talk to her about what was happening and settle the air between them… or he could fuck her senseless. As Aemond padded his way up the last few of the stairs onto the third-floor landing, he took a deep breath, he needed to prepare himself no matter what the outcome was. The closer he got to her door the more his palms seemed to sweat, Aemond wasn’t used to getting shot down, granted he didn’t tend to ask people out but when he did the answer was very rarely a no.
Aemond lifted his hand to knock on her bedroom door, knuckles gliding through the air but coming to a dead stop before that rapped against the heavy oak of her door. The faint whimpers were muffled by the blocking door between them, the soft hum of Dahlia’s voice floating through his ears like music, it was almost pained. He would have burst into the room to ensure she was not hurt but after taking a step closer and holding his ear to the door he knew; she was not in any form of pain.
The hairs on his arm stood on end with the delicious shiver that ran through his body listening to her, she was pleasuring herself, at least he hoped she was by herself and didn’t have Aegon or someone in there with her. She moaned and gasped, clearly enjoying whatever depraved action she was inflicting on herself. Aemond knew he should walk away, stop listening in on her personal moment and give her some privacy but his feet remained planted to the carpet outside of her room. He was glued to the sound of her, the image her moans were painting in his mind made his heart race and his pants grow tighter. He had no intention of grabbing himself through his jeans but he couldn’t help himself, they had grown incredibly uncomfortable.
Her moans were like sweet music to his ears, sweet taboo music. He knew he could just twist that handle, walk into her room and take over for her but he just stood there and listened. He was not the type of person that did this kind of thing, he couldn’t even watch porn without feeling disgusting and foolish. He knew he needed to leave and he tried. Turning on his heel with a heavy sigh he took one step away from Dahlia’s door, hand still rubbing his hard cock through his pants. That one step was all he managed to take however before the irritating sound of Aegon’s awful singing voice sounded from the bottom of the staircase to the third-floor landing. Aemond was screwed, his brother now being halfway up the stairs he knew he wasn’t going to make it to the other end of the hallway without him or his raging erection being seen. His only escape was to slide into the airing cupboard adjacent to Dahlia’s room, shutting the door softly behind him.
His plan was to just wait until Aegon had gone into his room and then he was going to slip out of the cupboard and head straight back to his room, whether he copied Dahia’s idea and dealt with himself was a decision he would make in the safety of his own abode. However once again his plan was thwarted as soon as he noticed the small beam of light coming into the otherwise pitch-black cupboard, Aemond had an inkling what sight was waiting for him on the other side of the wall that held the puncture, Dahlias moans had begun to pierce his ears a lot clearer. Despite all of his self-respect and honour screaming at him not too, he moved his face closer to the gap and peered through, and just as he had suspected there she was. He could see no more that her head and chest but he didn’t need to, her face alone sent his mind swirling into the dirtiest thoughts. Her eyes closed and mouth open with her lips pouted, eyebrows scrunched as she concentrated on whatever it was that he hands were doing.
‘Fuck’ Aemond mumbled to himself pulling his gaze away from the luxurious sight in front of him.
He shouldn’t be doing this, Aegon would surely be in his room by now, he could just slip out and go back to his room and forget that any of this happened. No matter how much he rubbed himself through his pant it would never feel as good as it would if he just went back and got himself comfy, he could just memorise what he had seen. But no one knew he was there or what was going on and he wasn’t going to say anything so who was he hurting really? Despite his best efforts to control himself Aemond still unbuttoned his jeans and released his hardness. Breathing deeply as the sudden contact of his cold hand he placed his face back against the wall, looking in on the girl he so desperately wanted.
Aemond palmed the head of his sensitive cock gently and slowly worked his hand down his shaft, all the while watching Dahlia’s face contort with pleasure, her chest rises and falling as she gasped and whimpered. He let out a soft groan, sliding his hand up and down his cock, listening to the sounds coming out of her. He bit his lip, working himself faster to relieve the pressure that growing in him the closer Dahlia evidently got to her climax. He could just envision what was going on behind the wall that was blocking his view from the rest of her perfect body, her legs spread, her hand moving over her wet pussy, rubbing over her tender clit or fucking herself with her own fingers, maybe even both. Gods he wanted to bury his face between her legs, he would never leave. He worked his hard on faster and faster, jerking his hips lightly into his hand.
It was the soft groan on his name that flowed from Dahlia’s lips that sent him over the edge, his available hand jolting up to grab hold of the door frame to steady himself as his eyes rolled back and hot strings of cum coated his hand and trousers. His heart pounded heavily in his ears that it almost blocked out the continuing noises that seeped from her mouth. It only took a few seconds for it to sink in what he had just done, that sickening feeling of guilt and disgust seeped into his bones.
He was stood in an airing cupboard, cock going soft in his cum covered hand after he had spied on his sister’s friend playing with herself, this was something his brother would do not him! He was a pervert! The fact that she had been playing with herself to the thought of him had made him cum and he would have loved to watch her finish herself and hope that he was the one that had gotten her there but he couldn’t stay to watch. He needed to leave and act like it had never happened, he felt like scum.
Calming his breathing down enough, he grabbed a hand towel off the shelf above him and cleaned his hand, shoving his cock back into his pants. Once he was sure the coast was clear he slipped out of the cupboard and padded back to his bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him. Aemond headed straight for the shower, to scrub himself clean.
#aegon ii targaryen x you#house of the dragon aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond fanfiction#house targaryen#hotd#modern hotd au#modern hotd#modern aegon#modern aemond
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more detailed descriptions of each style under the cut
simply - think t-shirt jeans and sneakers, maybe a hoodie or something. as average guy on the street as you can imagine.
stylish - manhua ceo, anything from a nice suit to business casual to a pair of ripped jeans and a layered shirt. the sort of fit that isn't super flashy or anything but is immaculately put together. belt matches his ankle-high chelsea boots, consideration of silhouette and contrast, etc.
flashy - i want you to imagine him specifically in a leopard print t-shirt and one of those jackets with a tiger embroidered on the back. so much jewelry, bright colors, lots of patterns, leather pants but with the confidence to pull it off. he has no clue he looks like an anime mobster he just genuinely thinks it looks cool as fuck.
modestly - long flowy pants (binghe in culottes....) a nice flowy button up, some ankle boots. is he stylish or is he just hot, skinny, and tall? yes.
goth - i don't mean eboy i mean capital g goth i mean eyeliner i mean layers i mean lace and leather i mean jewelry i mean pointy-toed boots. trad goth. motherfucker looks like a vampire from the 80s
emo - smudged guyliner, fishnets, black studded denim jacket, ripped jeans and converse, a t-shirt for a band he has never heard of because he is literally from another world but he can feel a sense of kinship with the angst.
badly - 3 wolf moon t-shirt and bright blue cargo shorts. maybe something bootleg hello kitty print.
designer (good) - look i don't know about designer clothes. he's dressed nicely but in that specific way that says oh this guy doesn't look at his own bank statements. nice trousers, everything tailored to fit him how he likes, a pair of fine leather shoes, a watch that makes people who know about watches gawk a little. Things that are nicely made, things thoughtfully purchased for their fit and quality, but undeniably priced the way they are because of the name on the tag.
designer (bad) - overpriced gucci t-shirt and sneakers that are more than your paycheck and frotting against the line between ugly and cool
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made hamburger helper with no milk this shit tastes like cargo pants
- @telemachus-of-ithaca
Hamburger helper?
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In the quiet hours of the night... his mind is deafening.
How I perceive Severus Snape, part 2 | part 1
Notes: Go into this understanding that to Me, Severus is deeply flawed and broke and trauma filled. There are parts of him I see as soft and squishy, covered by hate to keep Them from bruising. If you don’t like that, do not read this. Otherwise, enjoy.
TW: Mentions of alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sex, physical and emotional abuse, poor mental health, death, manipulation Please do not read if you cannot handle these topics. This part is a lot lighter than part one, though it still has a few sore spots.
Positive Attributes
𖤐 studious and driven, severus is someone to have on your side when you need information. He likely already knows what you need and where to find it. 𖤐 severus is attentive, noticing things you likely didn’t. This often leads to him giving support before needed or compensating for things ahead of time. 𖤐 severus is quite witty and funny, he’s often cracking jokes, but his deadpan tone often makes Them fall flat. 𖤐 severus is incredibly thoughtful, especially when giving gifts. He observes people constantly, and his gifts to others on holidays or birthdays are often times things that are so touching, it's staggering.
𖤐 moments of bliss 𖤐
Negative Attributes
𖤐 severus is so incredibly stubborn. Once he has an idea to do something, well, he will not give up, even if doing it causes him personal harm. 𖤐 severus doesn’t sleep well, so he is constantly grumpy and snappish. 𖤐 severus has terrible social skills and a carefully black tone and expression. This often leads to him coming off angry, mean, or spiteful. 𖤐 severus wears his distaste plainly. It’s clear if he hates you. 𖤐 compliments are earned, to him, so you doing well or being kind to him often doesn’t come with thanks or praise, which can make him seem standoffish. 𖤐 insults are his way of expressing love and care.
𖤐 severus as song lyrics 𖤐
Musical tastes
𖤐 severus never stuck to one genre or another. The music of her youth is that chosen from discard or discount bins. 𖤐 lots of the music severus holds dear is music that is a gift or a moment of perspective shifting.𖤐 her favourite music to brew to us, classical OR absolute rubbish noise music. It depends on what is brewing, delicate potions get the latter. 𖤐 severus owns multiple band tees, also usually discounted, all unknown.𖤐 severus gets a lot of Her love for classical music from ballet classes with Lily. Her favourite pieces spawn from duets they created or performed together and she still hums them to herself often.
𖤐 severus’s playlist 𖤐
Severus has a dynamic relationship with music, it’s typically all around him either playing in his head, him humming while working, or playing out loud while he brews. His tastes are varying, vast, unexpected and usually not the same day to day.
Severus’s clothing
𖤐 for a very long time, clothing meant absolutely nothing. Clothes were a means of covering herself and keeping warm or staying cool. It isn’t until years down the road, probably around 14 or 15, that style mattered. 𖤐 severus, after a day of ballet class, went into town with Lily to hunt down some new leotards and, on a dare, tried one on. It was tight, constricting. She loved it. Lily bought her the leotard and some tights. 𖤐 from that day forward, the pair of them would find and try on anything and everything, Lily gaining a love for baggy cargo pants and jeans, severus a love for dresses and skirts
𖤐 Pinterest outfits severus would wear 𖤐
╰⌲ teens
╰⌲ twenties
hobbies
𖤐 severus has very few hobbies and usually things that were found to be creepy or entirely unexpected 𖤐 they can draw, often doing flowers, bugs, or creatures in the margins of their textbooks and adding art to assignments. 𖤐 severus also does ballet with lily and has for years. The two of them have done duets, individual performances, and won awards. They practice during the school year in a neglected wing that the two of them transfigured. 𖤐 severus also paints, plays piano and violin, can sing, writes long-winded essays on long forgotten topics, and speaks four languages besides English. 𖤐 the languages: German, Latin, Korean, and French.
End Part Two
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