#would he even remember their faces? how much does he remember and how much is he making up?

[soobnny]

the making of a morning person — lee minho. established relationship. fluff. there is still time for love even in busy mornings (1.7k words)

Lee Minho hasn’t been too fond of early mornings as of late.

Despite being used to how his job requires him to be awake at odd hours of the morning, he still finds himself groaning when he hears the first ring of his alarm, hand jolting to stop it immediately. 

The sound feels like a punch in the gut, and Minho thinks he can bear it until you shift in his arms. Now he’s falling straight from the bed towards a man made hell he’s dug himself into.

He thinks (knows) that must be why he hasn’t enjoyed early mornings the way he used to. 

Before knowing you, there was no sacrificing the comfort of having you in his arms in exchange for getting up and starting his routine. Now, everyday feels like a struggle for extra time with you, even if it’s just a minute or two. 

How is he supposed to willingly peel himself off of your skin and warmth? 

Though, it seems you make it easier for him when you shift your weight instead, enough so you’re completely off him before he has a chance to pull you back in — the way he always does, despite you scolding him that the both of you would be late.

A small whine escapes his lips as he tries to reach for you again, eyes still stubbornly closed.

When you don’t give in, he sports a frown on his face, similar to the one he used to wear before you’d gotten together. Though, after years of knowing each other, you’ve grown unfazed to his cold exterior. Besides, you know it only takes a soft, unexpected kiss to get him shy and fumbly—a side he doesn’t show very often.

It was always like this with him. Love and the way his heart generally feels is a secret experience between you and him. He prefers it like this – quiet and intimate, for your eyes only. 

He doesn’t think he could allow anyone the sight of him whining and asking you to come back to bed for five more minutes while you’re struggling to convince him that the both of you had places to be and deadlines to meet. 

Eventually, Minho does get up from bed, albeit a little grumpy. 

Mornings together were usually calm, however, the sudden influx of deadlines and schedules for the morning has the both of you rushing around each other to get to your appointments in time. 

Minho has memorized you enough to know you’re racing for the bathroom as soon as you leave the bed (you always take way longer than he does), so he moves to open your kitchen cupboards to make the two of you coffee and to feed the cats.

He takes the time to review the things he has to do today, mentally noting the most suitable time for him to eat healthily in between such a tight schedule before moving to recall the choreography he’s made so far so practice runs seamlessly later in the day, all the while cuddling Dori on his lap.

When the sound of water running stops, his feet guide him to discard his mug in the sink, placing his cat back down on the ground before moving towards your shared bedroom so he can choose what to wear before hopping in the shower himself. Though, when he walks in, he finds you struggling to pick what to wear, holding out two options with eyes peering back and forth. 

Without a second glance, he speaks. “Like the red more.”

“Hm?” You snap out of your reverie, eyes trailing towards your boyfriend who’s skimming through his hangered clothing in search of what to wear for the day.

“Red looks good on you. Reminds me of our first date.” 

You smile at the memory.

Your first date with the boy sure was memorable, shaking hands and nervous laughter as he opens doors and pulls out chairs for you like the gentleman that he is. He ends up spilling wine on you, and he apologizes over and over again. He doesn’t remember much of that day anymore. He only remembers how you told him to make it up to you on your second date. 

He did, and he continued to date after date – each one peeling back his cold exterior and showing you his rather weird side. But you wouldn’t have him any other way. Afterall, he wasn’t your boyfriend if he didn’t bite you randomly or search for your ass whenever you passed by him. 

“Thank you.” You press a quick kiss on his cheek before ducking into the bathroom to get started on your makeup. 

You don’t question him when he walks into the same bathroom, moving past you in all his shirtless glory and pausing for a moment to send a small slap on your butt. Then, he nonchalantly hops into the shower as if nothing happened, the way he always does.

When he walks out, you’re just about done with your makeup and have moved on to putting on the red dress he had picked out for you. He allows himself a minute to stare at you fumbling with the zipper of your dress, a string of curses leaving your lips as if the dress had wronged you in all ways possible. 

“Stupid fucking zipper. Making my life so much harder than it is, just zip up.”

“Come here.” 

Minho motions for you to walk over where he’s standing, towel wrapped around his waist with hair still dripping wet from coming out of the shower. When you plant yourself in front of him, he gently pulls your hand away from the zipper, and you allow them to fall limp on your sides. He laughs when you let out a huff in frustration. 

“As much as I love seeing you struggle, let me help you, darling.” His hands move to grab the zipper, hands cool from just having hopped out of the shower. 

Minho has never been the biggest fan of physical touch unless absolutely necessary, but he finds he never minds with you. He’d even go out to say he liked it, the proximity, the feeling of your skin on his – to the point where he’s always looking for you just so he can hold you in some form. 

He tries to focus on the task at hand, but it’s a little difficult when he’s becoming more and more aware of your lingering presence in front of him, with the curve of your back and the way your hair falls perfectly past your shoulders. The feeling has him mentally groaning again for having to let go of you so early in the morning when you could’ve been bunched up in his arms. 

Maybe when your schedules are less busy. 

Yeah, he’d like that a lot. 

Finally, after a few moments of struggling, he manages to get the zipper all the way up, releasing you and stepping back to admire his work for a moment. 

“Thanks, Min.” He waves you off, attention back on his own clothes as he starts to dress himself in front of you. 

“Would’ve liked it the other way around actually.”

“What?” You tilt your head, looking at him suspiciously as you pull down at the ends of your dress. He grins to himself, looking up at you with wiggling eyebrows. 

“Wish you asked me to unzip it instead.”

You laugh, throwing his socks in his direction. “You’re impossible.” 

“I prefer to think of it as charming.” 

You simply roll your eyes in response, patting at his chest firmly before moving to grab a cup of coffee in the kitchen. When you arrive, your heart swells in fondness when you see Minho’s already prepared one for you. 

“Baby? Did you put in—”

“Two creams and one sugar.” He yells back from your bedroom, and you have to bite down at your lips to stop yourself from smiling too much. 

“You have it memorized? Didn’t know you loved me this much.” 

“Well shit, was I too obvious?” You let out a breathy laugh, taking a sip of your coffee. Minho emerges from your bedroom not long after, toothbrush in hand as he rushes to grab something he had probably forgotten in another room. 

Before he can discard his toothbrush, you move to stop him, placing your coffee mug down and wordlessly fixing his shirt so it isn’t as crinkled, smoothening it down with your arm. 

He tastes like mint toothpaste as he leans in to give you a quick peck in thanks. And then he’s back in your bedroom, preparing his bag as you go over some of your paperwork at the last minute to make sure that everything’s there. 

You duck under his arm that’s leaning against the doorframe, taking some black stilettos to wear when you go outside. Minho has to grab your arm and pull you back to stop you from rushing. He doesn’t say anything when he successfully stops you, just swipes his thumb on the corner of your lips and letting his thumb linger there for a second longer than needed.

“Overlapped lipstick.” He states before pushing you so you can go back to what you were doing before he stopped you. 

The morning feels like forever, but eventually you bid him goodbye as you tell him you really need to get going if you don't want to be late. “Don’t forget your jacket. It’s cold.”

“Mhm.” You pull at a random coat from the rack, swinging it over your hands before pulling the door open. Minho follows you so he can make sure you take off safely, and when you both make it outside the house, he stands patiently as if waiting for something. 

“What is it?” You laugh, and he simply points at his lips, puckering them slightly. 

“You’re so stupid.” Shaking your head, you rush back to where he’s standing, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down before pressing a firm, but quick kiss on his lips. “Goodbye now.” 

Minho doesn’t seem too satisfied as he tugs you back by your hips, leaning down again. “Come back here, that kiss was too quick.”

“You’re going to ruin my lipstick!”

“Don’t care.” 

He smirks to himself before pressing his lips back on yours. You’re powerless to stop him, allowing him to draw out the kiss. You know he’s always preferred long kisses over hurried ones anyways. 

When you’re sure you’ve spent a good few minutes making out on your front porch, you finally pull yourself free from his grasp, pointing at him accusingly and blaming him if ever you were late for work. He simply shrugs his shoulders, blowing you an air kiss. 

“Okay, bye now! Love you!” 

With arms crossed and body weight leaning against your doorframe, he smiles to himself as he sees your figure retreating. 

“Love you more.” He says more to himself with a small smile on his face. 

Despite the chaos of your morning routine, the brief moments of love between you made everything feel just a little bit more bearable. It would be hell with anyone else. But it’s not anyone else, it’s you, and he thinks maybe waking up this early isn’t so bad after all. 

[lizzyk137]

It's A Date- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)

Description: Spencer does not want to go to the BAU picnic but goes because he has a crush on you and suddenly Spencer is good a baseball which shocks everyone. Warning: None, just pure fluff

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Two minutes.

Just two more minutes.

Only two more minutes until the entire team could leave for a fun filled afternoon together without the worry of trying to catch a serial killer.

Hotch could see how restless the team was after having five back-to-back cases with no break and too much paperwork. So, he set some time aside for a small break for the team to relax and have some fun. A picnic at the park with some team friendly games.

You were excited, ecstatic even, about being able to enjoy an afternoon in the sun and just relax. Everyone was bringing a dish to share and even though you weren't great at sports, you were excited to play a few games with everyone.

The clocked chimed as it hit three o'clock and everyone cheered, quickly grabbing their already packed items before heading out the door, Hotch reminding everyone to meet at the park at four and to remember their food dish. You looked around smiling as everyone hurried to the door before stepping inside and turning to face the front as you saw Spencer, your best friend and long-time crush, dragging his feet as he made his way to the elevator.

Morgan and Emily called out to him to pick up the pace, as Hotch pushed the open-door button to keep the elevator from moving. Spencer finally stepped inside, chest to chest with you, a fake smile placed on his face. You knew he wasn't thrilled to be going, that he would rather go home and read or visit the outdoor theatre to watch an old film. You finally convinced him to go that it would be fun to try new things, him reminding you that playing any sport wasn't new or fun to him, the memories of gym classes still haunting his mind.

You had just patted his back reminding him that the team were not his old classmates and trying to play something without dreading it was something new to him. He just shrugged and agreed to go after you flashed him your puppy dog eyes, a look he could never say no to.

The park was right by your house, so you decided to walk over, seeing almost everyone was already there and helped set up the picnic table full of food with Penelope and JJ. It felt nice to chat openly with everyone about life and pure silliness without having to worry about keeping it short between solving a case. Everyone was sitting down to eat when you realized someone was missing. Spencer.

You reached for your phone when you heard his voice behind you. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry." You looked up at him from your spot on the grass with a smile, taking in his work clothes that he was still wearing.

"I'm glad you could make it! I saved you a spot." You patted the spot next to you and he sat down next to you before you bumped your shoulder with his. "Are you ready for a fun night?"

He sighed before stealing a chip off your plate. "Honestly, not really."

You gave a sad smile and offered your plate to him to pick off of. "At least try to keep an open mind to it." He just hummed his response and took half of your sandwich, laying his head down on your lap for you to play with his hair.

----

You were playing baseball with everyone, Spencer still seated on the grass, reading a book with occasional peek up at you. He wasn't excited to play baseball but he enjoyed watching you get excited, your laugh echoing through the air, your smile bright. He loved it when you were happy, your smile always getting lost in the gore of your job. He noticed you looking at him, worry buried between your brows, and he knew you were worried about him not joining in. An hour into the game, he sighed and set his book down then made his way over to you in the makeshift dug out area.

He poked your shoulder, something he always did to let you know he was there when he came up behind you. "Are you joining?" A hopeful look on your face when you asked. He nodded and gave you a small smile. He didn't want to join but he just couldn't say no to you.

It was your turn to bat, and you struck out every time, a playful pout on your lips as you shuffled back to him, resting your head on his arm upset you didn't hit the ball as he patted your back. JJ was up to base and she hit one pitch, making it to first base, making it Spencer's turn next.

He stepped up to base, Morgan smirking at the pitcher's spot, a knowing look on his face. An easy three throws and Spencer would be out, his team a step closer to winning. Spencer got into his stance, Morgan throwing the ball at lightning speed and the clunking sound filled the air as the ball flew through the air way past Hotch who was out in the far field.

You screamed with the rest of your team as Spencer sprinted toward first and second base, a quick glance to the out field as he saw Hotch grab the ball, and he made a rash decision to keep going, pushing JJ out of third base and forcing her to head toward the home base with him as the ball zoomed through the air towards home base, JJ and Spencer narrowly making it.

Silence filled the air for a second, everyone dumbfounded on how Spencer got a home run on his first try, before Penelope and you erupted into cheers as you ran up to Spencer jumping up into his arms, him easily catching you, a laugh easily released from his throat as he spun your around.

The next hour was filled with laughter, smiles and cheers as the game went on, Spencer helping you with your stance, helping you get to third base. You had never seen Spencer so carefree, and it took everyone by surprise, earning a lecture on physics in how you can easily figure out the speed in which you need to hit the ball in order to get a good hit in.

The night was closing in and everyone decided on a quick game of soccer, something Spencer couldn't figure out with his brain but you pulled him over to your team, your hand fitting perfectly into his. The game quickly began and you laughed at how Spencer tried to recreate the fancy tricks Morgan and yourself were pulling, earning a few grass stains on his white dress shirt. Your team somehow won and Spencer pulled you into a hug after you scored the winning point, something you weren't expecting.

Both of you helped clean up and everyone was leaving with the promise to have another night out next week from Hotch, when you were asked a question you didn't think Spencer would ask.

"Can you teach me how to play before next week?"

You turned around, confusion on your face. "Um, why? I thought you didn't like playing sports?"

"I-I don't but you like playing, and I didn't have enough time to watch soccer games before I came to impress you." His voice just a whisper.

You chuckled, your face heating up. "I can teach you, but was that why you were late?"

"Yeah- I, um, watched some baseball games to figure out what to do." Spencer squeaked out as you walked up to him a teasing smirk on your lips.

"Well, it was certainly impressive." Spencer eyes grew big.

"It-it was?"

"Mhm, it was." You stopped a few inches from him and looked up at his chocolate coloured eyes. "So, are you going to walk me home?"

The smile on Spencer's face grew and he laced his hand in yours, like he's done it hundreds of times before, and pulled you close as you walked out of the park.

You were almost to your apartment complex, the silence comforting and your hands still intwined. "I think I'll need lots of lessons with you."

"Lessons in what?" You teased, a smirk on your lips as you poked his cheek. His cheeks turned a bright red along with the tips of his ears as he shook his head.

"I-I meant with soccer, Y/N."

You pouted your lips playfully. "Boo, I thought you were talking about something else."

He abruptly stopped and turn to you. "I didn't think you'd want to do that. Not saying you could not want it but we're friends so I-I didn't think that you'd want to further our friendship, especially with me, would be possible. I was talking about soccer, because you seemed so good at it and I fell quite a few times, but if you do want to do want physical relations, I-I'll try my best to-." His rant silenced by your lips on his.

You pulled away after a few seconds, Spencer body still, his eyes large as he watched you look up at him a big smile lighting up your face. "I've been wanting to kiss you for years." Your cheeks flushed pink, and Spencer could feel his heart clench at how adorable you were. "Saturday, pick me up at three, it'll be a date."

Untangling your hands, you made your way to your complex's doors with a smile on your face, your cheeks warm, embarrassed that you just shut him up with a kiss.

"Y/N!" You turned around to the sound of your name to see Spencer running up to you. One of his arm's circling your waist, pulling you closer to him as his other hand tilted your head up as he cupped your cheek before he brought his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that left you breathless. He pulled away, a devious smile on his handsome face, he gave a small peck to your lips again. "It's a date."

[jeonghunny]

— the part where you didn't reject me, yoon jeonghan.

fluff | 806

jeonghan has been in your life for as long as you can remember.

he was in the playground when you were kids, he was in the school cafeteria in high school and now here he was in the lecture hall next to you in college.

jeonghan was notorious for his playfulness. you’re all too familiar with his constant teasing, the light-hearted back and forth that makes up most of the conversations you have with him and the occasional flirtatious words and actions he’d slip in here and there.

he’s always been a physically affectionate person. holding your hand, giving you cuddles, lots and lots of hugs, placing one hand on the small of your back as he walks you to your classes and pressing fleeting kisses to the top of your head — all platonic of course. or at least that’s what you’d thought.

because that’s just how he is and you don’t want to read too much into it, never allowed yourself to. not wanting to assume anything, too afraid of what the outcome might be once you let yourself fall.

but you’d never let anyone know that you do get flustered on the days where he gets more affectionate than he normally would be.

you’d never let anyone know about the one too many sleepless nights where he’d consume your every thought when you would finally allow yourself to fall.

butterflies forming in the pit of your tummy when he jokingly calls you “babe” and pulls on your hands as he whines and tries to coax you into joining one of his many outrageous bets.

“what’s in it for me?” you question, raising a brow at him.

“i’ll give you a kiss.”

there’s that smirk. the one that makes you wonder if he’s actually being serious or if this is just one of his never-ending jokes.

“who said i wanted your kiss?” you roll your eyes at him and try to pry him off you.

you don’t try too hard though, knowing you’ll miss his touch once he actually does move away from you.

“come on,” he pushes again as he snuggles into your side.

and you give in. of course you do, you always do.

the day everything changed began like any other monday for you.

you went to your classes then headed over to jeonghan’s place to hang out.

laying on the couch with your legs hanging over his thighs, a box of cold pizza on the table before you, you munched on a slice as you searched for something to watch on the tv.

“why aren’t we dating?” he pondered out loud while looking straight ahead at the tv as if the question wasn't even directed at you.

you choked on your food and jeonghan started laughing.

your eyes are wide, mouth hanging open when you turned to him. “excuse me? what did you say?”

“i asked why aren’t we dating?” he repeated with a straight face.

“are you being serious right now?”

he shrugged, expression on his face unchanging. “i mean i like you and i think— no, i know you like me too. so why aren’t we dating?”

“you like me?” your voice suddenly a pitch higher as you sat up.

“mmhmm,” he chuckled slightly then continued chewing on his pizza as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

you stayed silent as you tried to process the information and in true jeonghan fashion, he moved onto the next topic, pointing out something silly that was happening on the tv screen.

neither of you brought up the conversation again for the rest of the night.

jeonghan finds himself outside the hall waiting for your last class of the day to end and he jogs toward you when he spots you among the crowd of people exiting the place.

you feel his fingers curl around yours before you even notice him there next to you.

“what are you doing here? you don’t have classes today,” you move your arm to keep the stack of books from falling.

“i’m fulfilling my boyfriend duties,” he reaches over to take the books from you with his free hand.

you squint your eyes at him, “when did you become my boyfriend?”

jeonghan clicks his tongue then sighs, “are you really that forgetful?”

“are you delusional?” you counter, tilting your head.

he shakes his head before looking directly into your eyes with a teasing look on his face, “did you forget last night when we were on my couch?”

“i didn’t forget, but please remind me which part specifically was it that made you my boyfriend?”

and there’s that smirk again. the one you used to despise so much but grew to love. the very same one that makes you question the words that come after.

“the part where you didn’t reject me.”

[luvs4matt]

soaked - matt sturniolo (part 1)

pairing - dilf!matt x subby!reader

summary - in which, matts girlfriend gets bratty and impatient with him, so he has to punish her while his daughters gone

warnings - SMUT 18+, female masturbation, cow girl, teasing, begging, MAJOR daddy kink, pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, bad girl, princess, pretty girl, babygirl), sir kink, major sub reader, cum eating??, praise, groping, older!matt x younger!reader (legal ages), cliff hanger, dacryphilia, voyeurism

“it doesn’t matter how much you look at me like that darling, i’m not gonna touch you” you whine as you continue to plunge 2 fingers inside of yourself. you’re staring at him like a helpless puppy, you let out many whimpers and cry’s begging him to touch you “p- please touch me daddy, i’m s- so sorry for being a b- bad girl” you moan.

“you should’ve thought about the consequences before you decided to get all bratty and needy babygirl” while you are sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs up to your chest, matt is sitting in a chair 4 feet from you “please daddy, they don’t feel like yours!”

“well if you were a good girl, it would be daddy making you cum. you decided to be a bad girl, so you have to make yourself cum sweetheart” you have tears streaming down your face as you struggle to reach your orgasm “i- i can’t c- cum myself”

matt stands up, walking towards you, giving you hope that he will finally touch you. he leans into your ear whispering “make yourself cum, and i’ll touch you” you whine as more waves of tears fall down your face.

“stop that crying honey, you knew what would happen if you were a bad girl” you thrust your finger harder, trying your hardest to cum. he goes back to where he sat before, enjoying the view of your soaked pussy.

“think about your fingers as daddy’s cock baby, that’ll help” you listen to what he says and start to imagine your fingers as his dick. you add a third finger as you start to slowly feel your orgasm build.

“i- i can f- feel it” you close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure “look at me or i won’t touch you, even if you cum” your eyes shoot open, focusing all your attention on him “wow, you are needy aren’t you sweetheart?” he chuckles.

“daddy, i- i’m close! can i cum for you?” you were finally on the verge of your orgasm “cum for daddy sweetheart, keep your eyes on me” you tip over the edge, your own juices smothering your fingers “fuck, look at this pretty pussy”

the flash of matts camera flashes your eyes, you struggle to keep eye contact with him as your orgasm was strong. the photo comes out from the polaroid camera, matt pulls it out of the camera to show it to you “see how soaked you are princess”

you whimper at the sight, while your fingers continue to pump in and out of you considering you hadn’t got permission to stop yet. matt grabs your wrist, pulling out your fingers and brings them to your mouth “suck.”

you open your mouth, sucking your juices off of your fingers “thats a good girl” you moan around his fingers, getting excited for what he will do next “you want me to fuck you pretty girl?” you frantically nod your head “yes! please fuck me daddy!”

matt strips himself of any clothing before sitting himself against the headboard “c’mere” he pats his lap. you hurriedly crawl over to him, straddling his lap. you hover over him so he can insert himself inside of you, but he never does.

“w- why aren’t you doing anything?” you whine “you’re still being punished princess remember? so you have to fuck yourself on daddy’s cock with no help” your eyes start to well back up with tears “b- but, i- i need your help daddy, i can’t do it myself”

“yes you can princess, you said the same thing when you had your tiny fingers inside of your pretty pussy” the tears fall down your face “but you- you said you would touch me if i made myself cum” he runs his hands up and down your waist as you perk up your tits “i said i would touch you baby, not that i would help you”

“please daddy, i- i’ll be a good girl, i promise” you arch your back slightly to perk your tits up even more than were, hoping for him to give in “it doesn’t matter how much you put your pretty little tits in my face, i’m not helping you” you finally give up on trying to convince him, you line his tip up with your leaking whole and slowly sinking down.

“s- so big” you eventually get all of him inside of you, he rewards you with squeezing your ass a few times with a purr of “good job sweetheart” you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders. you lift yourself hips up before lowering yourself back down, you repeat this action multiple times, until you start to increase your speed.

you bounce yourself up and down with loud, high pitched moans and whines. the bed squeaks so loud that it could be heard all through the house “slow down babygirl, take your time” you continue your fast speed, even disobeying him by quickening your movements.

he wraps his arms around your waist, forcing you to stop moving completely “w- what are you doing” you attempt to bounce again, but he holds you down “daddy please!” you whine “you aren’t moving until you get that act together and behave, i told you to slow down and take your time, but you babydoll went faster”

“m’sorry, i- it just feels so good” you weren’t sorry and matt could see right through that act “well if you want to feel good again, i suggest that you be a good girl and do what you’re told” you grow somehow even needier for your second release.

“yes sir, m’sorry, i’ll behave” matt nods his head in agreement “good”

a/n - i promise to make a part 2 to this !!! and i will be making a dilf!matt masterlist because i plan on making lots of dilf!matt fics !!!

main masterlist

tag list !! - @ilovemenwithlonghairr @monroesturnns @sturniolo04 @gdsvhtwa @stvr1ightt13 @chrisspyycremm @colorthecosmos444 @va1ent1naa @sturnfannn @lanaswifeyy

[luveline]

Feeling a bit emotional and would really appreciate something short but sweet with Steve telling reader he's proud of them.

You’ve been through a lot. It’s not nice to hear about all the bad things that have happened to you, how people have been cruel, or how you’ve been alone, but Steve is grateful to get to know these things about you. He feels entrusted with something very important whenever you retell a bad memory; he can keep it, help carry it, take some of the weight from your burdened levy. 

He’s happy to do it, even in the moments where you forget all that stuff. 

“You did,” you insist, face pressed into the couch, a tired hand to his cheek as you stroke your smooth nail up and down his skin. It tickles badly. He never wants you to stop. “Steve, you knocked him on his ass. He had bruises.” 

“I don’t remember,” he lies. He smashed into Dustin so hard during a game of baseball the poor younger boy didn’t wanna play, and Steve was very sorry for the bruise he got to the coccyx afterward. 

“No, you wouldn’t remember. That’s convenient.” You’re just teasing, caressing his face, in a world of your own that Steve gets to be in too when he’s lucky. 

He thinks everything of you —you’re so sweet, so kind. Even now you’re lamenting that Dustin got bad bruises and tapping up to the corner of his eye with your fingertip, gentle, loving. He wonders how someone who’s experienced the hardship that you have would be able to just walk it off, but then he remembers you don’t walk it off. You carry it. You’re carrying it as you speak, and you're smiling at him. 

You’re Steve’s best friend, his great love, all the heartfelt junk. 

“I felt bad,” he says with a little laugh. “Does that make it better? I did feel bad. He hit the floor so hard.”

“Your laugh makes me feel like you don’t have enough remorse.” 

“I’m super remorseful.” 

Your fingertips slide into the hair just atop his ear, and you start the motions of a small scalp massage. 

“You’re–” Steve searches for the right word. Skirts around sincerity, and doubles back when nothing else conveys what he means. “You’re pretty amazing.” 

“And amazingly pretty,” you murmur, tucking hair behind his ear and pulling it out again as you scratch his scalp, a repetitive motion. 

“I don’t tell you enough.” He slips down in his seat to be the same height as you, catching an eyeful of your soft jaw, your lips, every inch of you kissable.  

“That’s not the sort of thing you have to tell me,” you say. 

There’s some awkwardness there. He really should tell you more. “I’m serious. You’re amazing, you’re so kind. Everything that’s happened to you, and you’re unstoppable.” 

He’s aggrandising, a little, to get through it without sounding like a too sincere idiot, but then he notices your expression shift at his tone and decides he can’t do that to you, because he’s not joking. He clears his throat. 

“I didn’t have much to do with it, but I’m proud of you for everything. You’re a good person, and you didn’t have to be.” He holds your elbow to pause your ministrations against his scalp, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, though he stays there, and his nose draws a line down to your lips.

You breathe in without saying anything. 

“…You’re proud of me?” you ask under your breath. 

Maybe it’s weird, but he is. “I just think you could’ve turned into, like, a huge dick. But you’re you.” He puts all the weight on it. “You’re amazing.” 

Your hand falls to his arm. “You think so?” 

“Of course I do.” He steals a soft kiss before he puts his cheek beside yours, expecting your hug before you give it. 

You wrap him up like a pretzel. “Why are you saying this to me?” you ask worriedly. 

“I just want you to know. I’m always proud of you, and I don’t know if I ever said it out loud. I think it’s– it’s hard to get hurt so much and get up again, but you do.” 

“I guess you’d know about that,” you say, curling into him. Your hug is without stress nor worry, just a want to be close to him, your voice laden with warmth. “We keep getting beat up. Maybe that’s why we’re good together.” 

“And another hundred different reasons,” he says pointedly. 

“Thousand reasons,” you correct yourself. “Thanks for thinking about me, baby.” 

With the way you say baby, Steve will be thinking of you for the rest of his life. “Can I rub your back?” he asks. It’s your turn for some affection. 

“Oh, no, please don’t rub my back, you know I hate that,” you say, sarcastic mumbling as you stretch against his chest. 

Steve hooks you against him. “I know. I’m the worst.” 

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (3)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

all my other works ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two

Both having busy schedules and working in different cities, the reader and Ewan make an effort to keep contact with each other. Will Ewan ever make his feelings known? Will a possible scandal derail their budding romance?

A beautiful floral arrangement awaits you as you return to your hotel suite in LA.

Luxury red roses preserved in an elegant black velvet box, accompanied by a printed note on the side.

Congratulations on your new project, darling.

All my love, Ewan.

Your assistant had alluded to a special package having arrived just before you came in, and you're met with this.

It's the loveliest of gestures and you instantly wish to call Ewan to express your thanks. However the hour is late, the digital clock face reading 10 pm. You'd had a long day at work, having gone through the entirety of rehearsals once more. Filming will officially begin in September, and your focus is much needed as you step into a new role.

Noting the time difference - it would only be around 6 am in the UK - you decide to put off calling him for tomorrow.

It's only been a week since he first confessed that he misses you, and since then, he's had no trouble saying it each time you speak, almost as if the floodgates are opened and he's more confident in expressing himself with you.

I told you, Phia had simply said when you shared this with her.

The strong possibility of Ewan harbouring feelings for you has caused you to become distracted the past few days. If he does, why hasn't he asked you out yet? Granted, you'll be working long-distance for a while, but still.

You quickly wind down from a long day and soon find yourself comfortably huddled in blankets with your laptop propped open in front of you. Winding down, of course, includes some time scrolling on your phone or watching things without a care.

A new video catches your attention on Youtube's home page. One of the segments from Ewan's Vanity Fair feature.

Ewan Mitchell on his firsts and latests

You smile to yourself before you even realise it.

The video starts with Ewan introducing himself - "Hi, Vanity Fair. I'm Ewan Mitchell and I'm here to talk about my different firsts and currents." - He smirks at the camera. You smirk right back as if he can see you.

"So first ever role?" he says, directed by prompts behind the camera. "Technically, my first ever role was for a very small, short film called Stereotype ..." He laughs, remembering how young and inexperienced he was. "... and my current role - none other than the One-Eyed Prince. So far, my favourite as well I have to say."

He continues with his first and current favourite film, pets, song or type of music to get into character... and so on...

Then he gets asked about - his first ever and his current celebrity crush - "Uhhhmm," he looks to the side bashfully, clicking his tongue as he thinks of the simplest answer, "I don't think I had celebrity crushes growing up. It could have been some of the actors I admired, that inspired me... "

Such a classic Ewan answer, that one. You wonder how he would also dodge the question of his current celebrity crush.

"As for my current crush... well... it might be someone from the cast of House of the Dragon, actually." He smiles knowingly, as if he's aware that your stomach is in knots as you watch. Who will he say? Phia? Olivia?

"I really admire ... " He says your name, and your eyes widen like saucers. "She's an amazing actress - I think we can all agree - and a very dear person to me... "

Ewan, you sneaky charming bastard.

" ... so yeah," he shrugs, nonchalantly, but he surely knows he just sent you - and the entire fandom - into a tailspin. "I guess you could say she's my current celebrity crush."

Curious, you pick up your phone and get to scrolling. You've turned all your notifications off, not wanting to become occupied because of them during work.

Sure enough, it's an endless flurry of likes, comments, and messages.

In your most recent post, tons of people comment about Ewan's interview, trying to bring it to your attention.

hotdpolska29: girl, go watch Ewan's Vanity Fair video RIGHT. NOW.

melodygellerr: be honest, is this photo for Ewan???

peraltajake99: now she has to say that Ewan's her celebrity crush too !!!

cassiethemendler: forget Ewan... guys she's acc with jacob frickin elordi. Did yall not see the pictures

There's simply too many comments to go through. One statement and already everyone has formed their own opinion, their own conclusion about how things are in your personal life. It's one of the drawbacks of being in the public eye, and you still don't fully know how to handle it.

As part of PR for your new film, you and Jacob had been tapped to make appearances in public together, photographers hired to make it seem like the two of you are on a date.

The whole thing confused you. You're friends with Jacob, and naturally you hang out with him anyway. All this celebrity subterfuge seems unnecessary. But he was kind enough to guide you through it. "It's just part of the job," Jacob assured. "This whole Hollywood thing is silly, isn't it?"

Since you're both single actors, it wouldn't hurt for people to believe you might be dating. It attracts attention and any publicity is good as they say.

As long as you know what's true, then the public can believe whatever they want.

You end up liking and responding to some comments, and ignoring most of the other ones that pry too much into your private life. Never mind the haters, who also give their own two cents about your alleged involvements with Ewan or Jacob.

Suddenly, the screen is brightened from an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye . You are still pleased with yourself about the name. Your excitement is spiked as you press answer. Having a crush never gets old.

"Mornin', you," you greet him. 11 pm for you in LA, 7 am for him in England.

"Evening, darling," he says with a smile. He's still in bed, with one hand behind his head while the other has his phone pressed to his ear. First thing in the morning, and he feels compelled to call you. If that's any indication, the boy doesn't lie when he says he misses you every day. "You about to go to bed?" he queries.

"Mhmm," you hum, lying down and mirroring his position. "By the way, I think I've got a secret admirer or something."

"What? Who?"

Struggling to hold back a laugh, you continue, "I think you're missing the point of a secret admirer."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Anyway, what's going on? Are they bothering you?" He sounds worried already, but a bit more should be fun.

"No, but I found a box from them in my room."

"Did they break in?" He sits half-upright, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you breathe out a tired laugh. "Ewan, I'm - " ... kidding, you want to confess, but he rambles on.

"If you need me, I can take the next flight out."

"Ewan - honey - I am messing with you. I do appreciate the floral arrangment box, by the way, thank you."

A beat of silence. He slumps back down on his pillows. A smile creeps up unrestrained on his lips. He fondly thinks that his girl almost gave him a heart attack at 7 am.

And he loves it.

"You're welcome," he replies. "And if I wasn't fully wake before, then I am now. Good work, darling."

You're pleased - he didn't deny the admirer bit of it all.

"Seriously now, thank you. They're the best surprise after a long work day."

"I'm glad you like them," he says sincerely. "Rehearsals still going on?"

"Yup, two more weeks of this, then a month-long break, and finally filming in Atlanta."

"Hmm," he says, then pauses, framing his next question as best he can. "Are you... do they... that PR relationship business, is that - "

You help him to it. "Well, technically, yeah," you respond. "But they're not laying it on thick with Jacob and I. Everything is alleged by the media and no one will make any sure statements."

When you shared the truth of the pap walk, he had a bunch of questions about it. He had sounded detached and cold at the beginning of that call. Then you complained about relationships for publicity, and he quickly got the gist. You'd think his mood took a complete 360 then.

From sounding completely disinterested with Jacob, Ewan then took to reassuring you that he's a good guy who would respect your boundaries. He's still not a fan of the whole thing, but it's your job.

And... well... it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything. What claim could he have over you?

"And something you said has the public divided," you add.

"What did I say?" he smirks, playing it coy.

"Ewan."

"You're going to have to elaborate, darling."

An idea pops up in your mind. Two can play at this game, Mitchell. "Listen, I'm flattered that I'm apparently your celebrity crush, but you can't say shit like that! I don't think my boyfriend Jacob would appreciate it. He's very protective, you know."

A full minute passes, you hear his heavy breathing on the other line. He wants to curse out at the picture you presented but holds back for you.

Then, "You're so funny, darling."

You laugh genuinely, and all his worries dissipate. "I know."

"A downright comedian."

"Thank you."

"I can't believe you're my celebrity crush," he sighs dramatically.

"You put that on to yourself, mate."

"Hmm." He sure did. He wasn't lying in that interview - you are his celebrity crush, but that seems reductive. He likes you, he misses you, he loves being around you. "The only right answer would have been you. You're the one I think about all the time."

He says things like this, so sweetly, and it's everything. It drives you off kilter that you get tongue-tied at work when you think about it.

But he hasn't said or done anything more. The flowers were a nice touch, sure. Maybe he's gearing up to it? Does he have something up his sleeve?

In the moment, it appears not. He's flirty, as he always is, but you've had a damn long day and the butterflies in your stomach are exhausted too.

"Ewan, I'm gonna go to bed."

"Oh. Right."

"Long day tomorrow. You know how it is."

"Of course. I... I miss you, darling. Sleep well."

"Mhmm," you find yourself responding, not mirroring his statement. "Bye, have a good day."

You end the call, wondering if he caught on at the end. Perhaps you sounded a bit too dismissive, but a voice in your head says, hey - if he wants you, he gonna have to show you. It'll take a lot more than flattery and banter to win your heart completely.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

That night in London, Ewan sits in a corner booth of a pub with Tom, Luke and Elliott and it's relatively causal, with the boys just catching up over a few pints.

Until Luke mentions you and Jacob, questioning whether that whole story was real or not.

"Absolutely not," Ewan says immediately, shifting in his Adidas tracksuit as if to take up more space so the boys will pay attention. "I talked to her about it and it's all just PR nonsense, trust me."

"Look at this one gettin' all defensive." Tom claps Ewan on the back in jest.

"Well it's true," Ewan just shrugs. "They're not together."

Elliott jumps in, eager to rile Ewan up even more. "For now at least. I've heard that these PR couple things eventually get a little too real, if you know what I mean. The lines tend to get blurred."

Ewan slings his pint back, before engaging. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at it this way," Elliott explains. "She hangs out with the guy a lot. They laugh, dine and work together. Maybe they even have to make out several times for the film. It's easy for feelings to spring up from all that business."

"Life imitates art, innit?" Luke offers.

"Yeah, maybe soon it won't just be PR. I've heard of some celebrity couples who did that," Elliott says.

Luke adds, "Wasn't there that one PR couple that got married and all? Who was it - I can't remember now - "

Tom intervenes, wary of the way with which Ewan grips his pint glass. "That's all nonsense, come on. Surely that's not a common occurence. I worked with all you guys, and I can't stand any of ya. If anything, she'll be so sick of Jacob after they work together." That earns him a laugh from the twins, who then assign him to get the next round as payment for that jibe.

Ewan stays silent, his mind whirring. Usually, the boys wouldn't mind. They know it's just his way, being a focused and observant lad on and off set. But they sense something else underneath.

The twins share a look, a bit guilty due to Ewan's expression.

Ewan looks up and reassures the table, "Hey, it's alright. Whatever she chooses to do, I get it."

"But come on, mate," Tom says. "Everyone knows you like her. Literally everyone. Even she knows it, I bet. Why don't you just make the bloody move already?"

"I dunno," Ewan starts, not sure of the answer himself, "it just didn't seem like the right time, with her being off across the pond for the rest of the year."

"So what, you're just going to let it slide? Do you want her or not?"

"Mmm, I do." Ewan keeps to himself most of the time. But Tom's got a way to loosen his taut edges.

"Well, as promised, I'm gonna get us all another round," Tom declares, earning cheers from the twins.

Two pints turned into three, then six, seven and so on. Pretty soon, the lads get properly and well smashed. Ewan's never been the biggest drinker, but when the social situation calls for it, he can put them back just as well as the next guy from the Midlands.

"So come clean, mate," Tom drawls, his arm slung around Ewan's shoulders. "Are you in love with her already or what?"

Ewan laughs, rubbing a hand over his face to wake up a little. It doesn't work - the glare of the warm overhead lights is strong and make him feel woozy.

"Could be," he says. "But that's none of your business." Smirking, he points at Luke, "Or yours," then at Elliott, "or yours."

"Hey! C'mon," Tom protests, feigning hurt. "Am I not going to be the best man at the wedding?"

"No way, Aegon the Magnanimous," Ewan shakes his head. "My brother'll be the best man."

"So there will be a wedding," Luke says. "Does the bride know about it?"

"He hasn't even asked her out yet," Elliott teases. "I triple dare you to ask her out right now. Right fuckin' now, Ewan."

"No," Ewan says, but in his sloshed out state, he secretly considers just doing it. "I gotta go for a smoke, lads. Tom was right, I can't stand you anymore."

"Oh, boo!" Tom shoves him out of the booth. "Hurry back, lover boy."

Ewan makes his way to the alley behind the pub. He's thankful that a pub at midnight offers the perfect setting to disappear into anonymity. Everyone's just as drunk or they simply don't care about celebrity culture.

He takes a few puffs of his cigarette, the nicotine quickly reawakening his nerves. Thinking back to the twin's suggestion, he thinks, why the hell not? Why shouldn't he ask you out already? Who cares about the PR shite? If word gets around that you're his, the facade about you and Jacob will get shelved.

With his cig lodged between his teeth, he has to take extra care to call you, the glare of the screen not doing wonders for his inebriation.

The lines beeps, and he's met with your voicemail. You must still be at work or just getting off it.

Still with Jacob. Something in him stirs, and it's not just the bloody alcohol.

He clears his throat, prompted by the notification to leave a message - "Hey, darling. Hey... beautiful... I guess I'm missing you and I... I miss you, isn't that funny?" he starts, proud of himself for making the joke. "I'm out with the lads right now... had a couple of pints. Maybe one too many? I don't know. And... uhhh - "

He stomps his smoke under his shoe, nervous ticks getting the best of him. Here he goes, make it or break it. "I was thinking about you. As I always do. Because I've never felt like this about anyone before. Ever. And I'm sorry it took me this long to ask, but I want to be with you. No - that's not right, it's too quick... I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but I gotta do this right. I want to take you out, properly, on a date. Will you... will you please? I've got some business stateside and I could have that scheduled sooner, and I could come see you. And we could... I just want to see you. So fucking badly, baby. I - I - okay then, I suppose that's all. Good... good morning? No - evening. You're beautiful and I just..." he sighs deeply, because words will never do you justice. "... goodbye."

The line cuts off and he tucks his phone away. Smiling to himself, he feels euphoric from getting that off his chest. The message was coherent enough, he thinks proudly, and it couldn't have sounded better all things considering.

If he could pat himself on the back, he most definitely would. He can already see it, the perfect first date with you.

The lads are going to go nuts over this, he knows for certain. He makes his way back inside the pub, a boy renewed.

A lover boy, as Tom and Phia call him.

No truer words have been spoken.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It's 10 pm yet again when you make it back to your suite. Having notifications on your phone turned off while you're at work, you're met with a barage of messages and the usual social media frenzy.

But only one thing stands out - a voice message from Ewan One-Eye, sent just around 4 hours ago.

You settle in for the night, making sure you're all prepped to go to bed before playing it, thinking you can maybe call him afterward.

You hear the beep, and the message starts - "Hey, darling... uhhhh so hey, I - uh fuck I'm missing you right now, must be at work eh? And I miss you - " You note how he sounds drowsy but his words are punctuated. Like he's making an actual effort to simply speak. You realise he must be drunk. What's a drunk Ewan doing calling you? " - that's so funny, innit? Which suits cause I'm just a bloody joke cause I took too long... to tell you... that I... I think about you all the time, I'mcrazyboutyou y'know... I wanna be with you... withyou - " He's drunk, you keep reminding yourself that he's drunk. But the effect of his words aren't diminished. He's got you hooked. " - I got work out there too... so I'll - uhhh - see you then and... take you out then and - fuck - kiss ya... I want to kiss you so fucking badly, baby. You're perfect for me, and so beautiful, and I wish Aemond would wed your character cause - as th'twins said - life imitates art!" He snickers at his own remark, and it's the most endearing thing ever. "So... yeah, good, darling. Goodb - " and the line cuts off.

"What the fuck," is all you can speak out into the quiet room. Lying back on your pillows, you actually laugh out loud and kick your feet like a puppy-love drunk highschooler.

The sun is rising across the pond and Ewan has probably just made it back home, immediately collapsing in his bed all wasted.

But he's getting a call tomorrow - and you pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that his intentions are clear, drunk or otherwise.

Kismet is a funny thing. Once a fan of the show, you're now an actress on it, about to date the Aemond Targaryen.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Ewan's eyes flutter open. The sunlight is weakly coming in from the window shutters in his room. Confused, he glances at the digital clock face and it reads 6:18 PM.

So he slept through the whole day. Brilliant.

It's unlike him to mind his phone first thing after waking up, so he trudges to his bathroom to douse his face with cold water and brush his teeth for a good long while, trying to recall the events of the previous night.

It had the usual workings of a proper pub night with his lads, and he barely remembers the last night he got that sloshed. But anyway, all in good fun, and he genuinely enjoys their company so it must be worth the pounding headache he feels right now.

The lads... an unknown and possibly excessive number of pints... Oasis playing on the speakers... Tom generously buying a round of drinks for everyone in the pub... and of course, you.

The memory has his attention, and he thumbs through his phone as he makes his way to his kitchen to prep his staple black coffee with seven sugars.

He remembers it - kind of - leaving a voicemail, and he's pleased that he finally, finally asked you out. Never mind that it took him getting drunk off his noggin to do it.

But there's nothing from you. Not a message, nor a missed call, nor a voice note.

He tries not to let it worry him right away, but it does. Maybe you didn't hear it yet. Maybe you were too tired from work and weren't checking your voicemails.

Maybe... maybe...

His phone suddenly buzzes in his palm and he mumbles, fuck's sake, out of surprise. But it's not you calling. It's his publicist.

"Hello, good evening. How are you doing?" he greets cordially.

"Ewan!" she exclaims. "Finally! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day."

"Oh, right," he says guiltily, "I'm so sorry, I just had a long night and - "

"I know, Ewan, I know. The whole country - no - the whole world knows by now. Bloody hell, it's always The Sun, isn't it? Those idiots, I swear."

He straightens at that. If a tabloid is involved, it can't be good news. "What's happened?"

His publicist sighs, ready to relay the news, "The Sun did a story on you and the other cast members. About having a wild night out in the pub. It's useless fodder, really, nothing wrong with having a night out."

"Right, right... but - " Ewan says, sensing there's something more. Something worse.

"There's a picture of you with a girl - "

"What?"

"I think I've seen her before. She must be a cousin of the Tittensors? You know her, of course."

"I... I don't - "

"Anyway, according to the paper, you and her were flirting it up a storm at the pub. She had her arm around you and everything. Do you want to look it up now? I can give you a moment. I'll stay on the line."

"Fuck," Ewan mutters to himself as he does a quick search of his name. The headlines make him wish he never did so.

House of the Dragon Stars On A Wild Night Out: INSIDE SCOOP!

EWAN MITCHELL SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY LADY

Aemond Targaryen IN LOVE? See PICTURES Inside!

"I don't think I remember her," he swears to his publicist, "I was just drinking with the lads and there might have been others that joined us but I - what the fuck - I don't - "

"It's okay, Ewan," she reassures him. "We can deal with this. This bullshit just comes with the job, as you should know. It'll be fine."

No, it's not fine.

Because it dawns on him why he hasn't heard back from you.

"Fuck."

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @uwuuness @strbellz @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @rhaenys-nyra @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @cardiganlovesblog @strangersunghoon @darktrashsoulbear @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @chixnugg22 @athenafaes

Not drunk Ewan thinking his voice message sounded a lot better than it did! 😂

The story will extend further than 3 parts, as it turns out! In the next one, the reader and Ewan will be reunited - any guesses on what will happen?

Comment and let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist 💕

[urm0o0m]

"baby i'm yours"

Synopsis: You had just broken up with your boyfriend of 3 years. You decide to go to the bar and grab a drink. You decide for a split moment, that you’d find someone to hook up with someone before deciding that you shouldn't, when you run into your old crushes from high school (Gojo and Geto)

Content Warning: Praise, degradation, pet names, spitting, dacryphilia, friends to lovers, DP

You sit quietly at the bar, a glass of straight tequila on ice in front of you. You didn’t even drink like this. But hell, you fucking deserved it. You had just broken up with your ex boyfriend who was too controlling for your liking. You weren’t allowed to go out with your friends, you weren’t allowed to drink. You weren’t even allowed to wear the color red. You took a sip of the alcohol, the liquor burning as it goes down your throat. The music blaring in the bar, people shouting, singing and dancing.

You didn’t care for the atmosphere too much but just as you were about to leave, you felt someone tap your shoulder. “I’m not interested” You say, taking another sip of the drink. “Come on y/n~ Don’t be like that. We haven’t seen you since highschool” You turn around, looking at the men who had both grown taller than you last remembered. Suguru hits Satoru in the back of his head. “Sorry about him. We just wanted to catch up but if you want us to go, we totally can�� You shake your head. “No, I'm sorry! I thought you were a random guy trying to hit on me”

Geto laughs. “Does this mean we can stay?” You nod, relaxing a little bit. You and both men begin talking and you reveal how you had just gotten out of a relationship. They both look at each other before Gojo speaks up. “Would you like us to go home with you?” Your face flushes, thankful that they couldn’t tell due to how dark it was in the club. “Straight to the point huh? I will say, Satoru was never one to beat around the bush” Suguru laughs. “Is that a yes?” You nod, paying for your drink and grabbing your purse. 

You walk out of the club, the cold air brushing against your skin and you curse at yourself for not bringing a sweater. Geto notices and takes his jacket off, slipping it over your shoulders. “T-thank you. You didn’t have to do that” Suguru leans close to your ear. “Well if all goes as planned, I should end up inside of you tonight. This is the least I can do” Your face flushes and you swallow. You had taken a cab to the club but the men had driven there and offered you a ride to your place. You give Geto your address and you and Gojo sit in the back seat.

Satoru pulls you into his lap, having you straddle him as his hands rest firm on your waist. You look down at him, your breathing shallow. He pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. Gojo breaks the kiss, licking his lips before saying “Suguru you have got to taste her lip gloss” You giggle. “You’ve kissed it all off of my lips” Geto groans. “I can’t have anything huh?” “I have some more in my bag” You say, pulling the small plastic vial, re-applying some more. You poke your head into the front of the car, making sure there are no cars and pulling Geto’s jaw and kissing him, allowing your hand to squeeze his crotch. The car swerves a bit and you break the kiss, returning to the backseat, planting your ass on the white haired male. 

“Fuck Doll. What if we would have crashed?” Geto says. “I don’t think like that. I’m quite the optimist” Suguru shakes his head and laughs. “You’ve grown in the boldness department since the last time I’ve seen you. I remember graduation. You were still just as time and shy as you were when we met in freshman year. Now here you are, practically begging for me to pull the car over and fuck you senseless on the side of the road” Your face heats up and you begin fidgeting a little. “Oh don’t get all shy now, pretty girl. What happened to that daring personality?” Satoru asks, his hands snaking up your shirt and squeezing your chest through your bra. You let out a soft moan, and gripped the sleeve of his black button down. 

“Come on pretty girl, use your big girl words and answer my question~” You swallow, opening your mouth when his right hand slips into the waistband of your skirt and panties while his left hand slips two fingers inside of your mouth. You begin to eagerly suck on Satoru’s fingers, rocking your hips back and forth against his nimble fingers. You let out a soft groan as you keep eye contact for a minute with Geto through the rearview mirror. The car speeds up and you find your eyes rolling back briefly. Your ex hadn’t touched you for months before you two broke up so you were hungry for another person’s touch. You throw your head back, resting on his shoulder, your breathing growing heavy.

“Toru~” You whine out, drool running down your chin. “There's that sweet nickname! Oh how I missed that sound of it falling from your lips” Gojo says, his fingers beginning to move in a circle around your swollen clit. Suguru watched this taboo scene unfold in the backseat as he drove. He tried to keep his focus on the road but your soft moans kept begging for his attention. Geto groans, his dick practically bursting at the seams from how badly he wanted you. You began to hump Satoru’s hand, his middle and ring fingers begging to slip inside your wet cunt and the palm of his hand pressed into your clit. 

You let out a loud moan, feeling that beloved orgasm building up in your gut. “Already?” Suguru asks, as he pulls up to your apartment building. “M gonna cum!” You say, eyes watering. “Go ahead. Cum on his fingers pretty girl” You whimper, your hips rocking back and forth as the knot in your stomach grows tighter. You moan, back arching off of Gojo’s chest. Your body begins convulsing and your hand grips Satoru’s arm, your fingernails leaving small crescent shapes in his forearm. You scream out in pleasure, your orgasm hitting you hard. You close your mouth around Gojo’s fingers, trying to keep quiet but God knows it’s hardly working.

Satoru keeps working his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm. Your body writhes in pleasure before going limp, breathing heavily against Gojo’s fingers that were still inside of your mouth. Suguru chuckles before saying “You look so fucking pretty when you cum, Love” You giggle softly, and Geto gets out of the drivers seat before picking you up out of Satoru’s lap. You fish your keys out of your purse as the three of you make your way to the top floor of the penthouse. You hand Gojo your keys and he opens the front door. You begin to place wet and sloppy kisses along Geto’s jaw and you can feel it tighten as he quickly makes his way into your bedroom.

Suguru places you on the bed. “Clothes. Off” You do as he says, his demanding voice sends even more arousal straight to your pussy. You decide to take your time, teasing both men that stood at the foot of your bed, both of their cocks begging to be released from their pants. “If I were you, I’d hurry up. Suguru isn’t the most-” You let out a soft yelp as Geto reaches for you and rips your shirt and skirt off. “...patient man,” Satoru finishes. Suguru peels your panties off of your sex, revealing your wet cunt for both men to see. Geto groans before saying “You’ve matured a lot n/n” He lets out another groan before placing hungry kisses against your clit.

You let out a soft moan, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm in the car. “Sugu~” You whine before allowing your dominant hand to wander into his long, dark hair, tugging on it softly and pulling him closer to your clit. Gojo chuckles before stepping closer to you, his erection apparent and almost begging for attention. “Open” He demands you. You gladly open your mouth and Satoru slaps his tip on your tongue. You wrap your lips around the head of Satoru’s cock and he lets out a soft groan. “Just like that pretty girl” The white haired male says, his hand laying on the back of your head, helping you take him further into your mouth.

Geto huffs, pulling your legs over his shoulders before his pointer and middle finger slipping inside of your cunt. You let out a moan around Gojo’s cock, back arching slightly. You continue to let your tongue work the bottom of his cock as Suguru works your clit and g-spot. Your eyes begin to water as the tip of Gojo’s cock slips down your throat. You hold yourself in that position, nose just barely brushing his trimmed pubic hair before pulling yourself off of him. “Sugu… ’m gonna cum again!” You whine, trying to pull his face just a bit closer to your soaked core.

Your back arches fully, showing off your bare chest in the moonlight that seeped in from the open curtains. “You look fucking beautiful” Satoru says, taking out his phone and snapping a couple of pictures of the scene. The knot in your stomach had begun to unravel and your legs had started to shake. You throw your head back, allowing your orgasm to fully wash over you. Your cunt squeezes around his fingers and you squirt all over his tongue and fingers, drool slipping from your mouth. Your body relaxes for a moment, slightly convulsing as Geto continues to slowly curl his fingers inside your pussy.

Suguru crawls onto the bed and on top of you before pulling you in for a kiss. “You taste so fucking sweet, Doll” You smile against the kiss, your hands trailing up his body. “God you are fucking insatiable” Geto says. “Come on. You two can’t have all the fun now” Satoru says. Suguru climbs off of you before Gojo picks you up, and lays you on top of him. “You ready to take both of us, Pretty girl?” Your eyes widen before saying “W-wait at the same time?!” Geto chuckles “Yes at the same time lovely. I mean, you’re wet enough to take it with little to no difficulty because of how soaked you are”

You shudder when you feel both men’s tips poking at your entrance. They both begin pushing themselves inside of your cunt, stretching you wide enough to take them both. “Agh~ F-fuck you two are gonna tear me in half!” You shout, clearly a bit nervous. “You need to relax and let us inside or we might tear something down there” Suguru says as Satoru plants soft but sloppy kisses behind your ear and your jaw. You find yourself relaxing as the kisses become sloppier and they continue to push inside of you. You whimper, the feeling of you being filled with two cocks at the same time causes you to tighten up again.

Gojo groans, pulling you onto their cocks completely. Your body begins to shake, the pleasure ripping through your body. They both start with a slow pace, trying their hardest to keep themselves under control, but the heat of your bodies and your symphony of moans bouncing off of the walls, they couldn’t keep that pace for much longer. Your breath gets caught in your throat, your hands finding Geto’s back. The harder they pounded your cunt, the more you felt like you were in heaven. Suguru drank the sight of drool running down your chin and neck, eyes rolled back and arched back in as if he would die of thirst if he hadn’t.

Satoru’s dominant hand reached down and began to rub your clit, causing you to clench around them again, his other hand snaking itself around your throat, squeezing just enough to deprive you of enough oxygen. You let out a choked moan, tears beginning to fall down your face. Once Geto sees this, it’s like something within him snapped. He began to pick up his pace, wanting to see more of your tears and gojo followed suit, nearing his own release. Your body begins to shake and your nails begin scratching down Suguru’s back, ensuring to leave marks for the next couple of days.

“‘M gonna cum again” You manage to gasp out in the break Satoru had decided to give you. “Then do it. Cum all over our cocks like the slut we both know you are” You body begins convulsing, and you let out a loud scream and squirt all over the two of them as your orgasm washes over you. Gojo groans before saying “I’m gonna fill you all the way up and claim you as ours” You body continued to shake as both men relentlessly fucked into you, chasing their own highs. Both men groan and begins to pump you full of cum. “Such a good girl. Take it all Darling” Suguru says as you continue to claw down his back again, this time breaking skin.

Then for a moment, it’s quiet and everyone is basking in the afterglow of their orgasms, your body still shaking a bit from both your previous orgasms and the overstimulation. Geto groans, and they both pull out of you, a soft whimper leaving your lips. Suguru stretches before saying “Damn. You did a number on my back pretty girl” You half whine, half chuckle before saying “‘m sorry” Satoru laughs. “Let’s run you a bath and clean up this bed so you can get some rest. You’ve got to be worn out at this point” 

For the rest of the night, both men took care of you, being sure to shower you with praises and kisses.

[antoncyng]

౨ৎ. STORYTIME - k.sn

synopsis - you listen in when your boyfriend offers to put your daughter to sleep

genre / warning(s) - fluff, ! sunoo is not the dad !, daughter name is jieun and she’s 4 ><, ex-idol!sunoo x fem!reader, sunoo and reader have been dating for 2 and a half years

wc - 792

you sat on the couch with your boyfriend after finally putting your daughter to sleep, taking what felt like hours with how much energy she had at 11:34 pm. he just smiled at you proudly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your skin softly.

until your love was disturbed by tiny footsteps and a toddlers voice, you sighed knowing what would happen. small sniffles came from behind the couch, turning your head to make contact with your daughter who was standing there in her pajamas, stuffed bunny in one small hand while the other rubbed the tears in her eyes.

“i don’t like the dark.” your daughter said to you after sniffling a few more times and catching her breath. “baby, your nightlight was on. what do you mean the dark?” you responded to her, confused as you clearly remember turning it on before leaving the room.

“too dark.” all you could do was sigh and stand up, but you felt a hand grab yours. “it’s okay, you stay here. i’ll put her to bed.” sunoo said to you with a sweet smile before standing up and turning to your daughter. “how about i put you to bed tonight? how does that sound? i can read you a small story too”

you could tell your daughter really loved sunoo, especially from the bright smile that appeared on her face when your boyfriend’s offer was spoken. taking his hand in her smaller one, they waddled off to her bedroom together.

you soon followed along and put your ear to the door, while watching the small creek that was left open, you couldn’t help but get curious on how your boyfriend would put jieun to sleep.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ IN JIEUN’S ROOM

“what story do you want to read tonight bug?” sunoo asked her sweetly, helping her sit on the bed comfortable, while he sat at the end.

“can you make a story for me? i’ve read all of mine already?” she says back, pointing to the bookshelf of short books that have already been read to her multiple times.

sunoo just nods and smiles, before moving off her bed and drawing a quick picture, than coming back and sitting on her bed again. “are you ready? you have to really focus on this story, okay?” he starts, your daughter just nodding with a waited smile on her lips.

“well, once upon a time in a beautiful bunny forest, lived a pink baby bunny named.. what should we name her?” he asked jieun, trying to make the story more interactive for her.

“rachel!” she said excitingly. “okay, lets call her rachel then. one day rachel wanted to go to the playground with her friends, but her mommy made her make a promise. can you guess what that is?” sunoo read from the picture to her, getting a head shake of denial in response.

“her mommy asked her to promise to go straight to sleep when she comes home, just like your mommy tells you.” he says, tickling her stomach slightly when she gets brought up in the story, earning a giggle from your daughter. “but why does she have to sleep right away?”

“well, when you go to sleep, it gives you energy for the next day! with no sleep or even a little bit of sleep, you’ll be too tired to play the next day. do you want to miss out on a day of playing because you didn’t sleep before? you’ll be very sad, you know.” sunoo cocks an eyebrow at jieun, leaving her mouth agape and she nods her head.

“can i sleep now then? i don’t want to miss playtime tomorrow!” she says, worriedly while she pulls her blanket higher and clutches her stuffed animal in her arm, while sunoo grows a smile on his face and just nods.

“that sounds like a good idea, lets get you tucked in.” he stands up, helping jieun get comfortable in her bed before kissing her forehead, turning off the main loght and turning on her nightlight. “are you going to be here when i wake up?” jieun looks up at sunoo with puppy eyes.

“yes, i’ll be in the room with mommy. call me if you need me okay? goodnight bun, sweet dreams.” he says while brushing her hair to the side before leaving her room quietly, making eye contact with you after closing her door.

“is she sleeping?” he nods in response, wrapping his arms around your neck in a bear hug.

“lets get our own rest now, unless you need a storytime too?” sunoo chuckles with a teasing manner before walking to your bedroom together, you knew you were so in love.

[herejusttosufferalong]

I've started and deleted this sentence several times now and don't really know how to begin. So let's just go for it and say seriously WHAT THE FUCK has been the last 6 months!? My mind is a clusterfuck rn. I love L and N but they are seriously debilitating. Like I've been see-sawing between casual nonchalance about everything saying "haha this is great ride, what's next in store?" to just confused exasperation and emotional fatigue. I don't even know these people, and yet I am so fucking invested. This has never happened to me. They are like a drug. Seriously, whatever they are selling, I will buy 10 of everything, pump it into my veins. Why is my kink now seeing them get married, have kids and L be a stay-at-home daddy while N rules the fucking world?! N, alone, has me questioning my sexuality. Then I remember L is there, and I go oh yeah him too. Them is my sexuality. It's so messy. Anyway, now to the point of this. I had some flashbacks while watching L's Loewe Vogue video today. Watching his groomer give him a lovely face and head massage instantly transported me to Ireland with the infamous forehead stroke. Honestly, imo, the biggest turning point of the whole tour. So much happened before this time, but I really do think this moment was critical. I will outline why.

Obviously, Ireland was a massive deal for N. The excitement of getting back home and meeting family and friends, the amazing reception, it was special. She talked ad nauseam about her mum meeting L and honestly all I could think was when has anyone been excited/nervous about their parents meeting just a friend? You feel that certain way because you're wanting approval, you're wanting them to feel the same way you do about that person and welcome them into the family, as it were. I've never felt that way with friends, but I had done with my boyfriend (now husband). But maybe that's just me? L didn't seem as caught up in it, like almost trying to downplay a lot of her ott excitement. I also noticed that they were less touchy feely overall compared to earlier on in the trip, which was so unhinged honestly, I didn't know what to do with myself. But then came the moment. I don't think enough people have broken this moment down. So the interviewer asks the question, that's been asked oh so many times, "was it easier or harder to do the intimacy scenes with a friend?" And N looks at L and thinks to herself, he has a hair out of place on his forehead, I'm going to reach out and stroke his forehead right in the middle of this god damn interview. Not once, but a few times, like her little hand was built to stroke that man's face. Now, tbf, she does ask permission but also tbf her hand is already at his face before he can answer a whispered, guttural, "mhmm". He leans in, we loose L for a bit there, then he comes back saying "ok" like you probably got that hair now, think we should stop now. And her going into 'mother' mode telling him to turn his head, good boy. And his little worried face when it's over. And them talking about how N just can't stop picking hairs off people on set. Mmm ok. If they were in Regency outfits, I would be expecting a mirror scene next up. But you might say to me, well shit like this has happened countless times, it's just another thing. Well, I say no, this time was different. They both knew they had crossed a line, publicly, her initiation, his reaction. Because they were strange as hell at the London premiere. He avoided her gaze. She visibly stopped herself from touching him. One occasion, I saw her reach out to his arm or back, and she looked behind him (I think where their teams were?), and immediately pulled her arm back. The first moment she was asked about people shipping Lukola she had a pre-prepared speech ready to go to explain the head stroke. It was forced. A lot of what she said seemed so rehearsed, and although, I'm certain N does think a lot about what she is going to say in interviews, usually she is very natural about it and let's it flow. That lady was stressed and making a point that L is just a 'bud'. The lady doth protest to much, methinks. She's seen everything we've typed about her and L's behaviour during the tour, so why start over-explaining and defending behaviour now? She was STRESSED. That was the overt, obvious, stop yourself type of behaviour, and yet we still saw SOME of that unconscious stuff seep through, like him searching for her hand, her looking up at him like a God, her stroking his thumb with hers while holding hands (seriously, why was that SO intimate to me?). Point being, you can't fake that stuff, the repression and release. The unconscious behaviour. They knew something was rumbling. Or at least, N did. My opinion is that they have not acted on those rumblings, because if they had, it would be OVER. Electric. Power surge. Goodnight. Pack your bags and goodbye. We might not even exist anymore, tbh. But I shall wait over here and keep eating all the crumbs I can get. (I am sooo sorry about the length of whatever this is, thank you much the same, it was so nice to vent).

OKay but like I kinda fuckin love you anon...

I had the biggest smile on my face reading this.

There is so much to unpack here. We will have to chat sometime.

LOVE x

[alienoresimagines]

What if John was never shot down ? (John edition)

I've been thinking a lot lately about what would've happened if John hadn't been shot down over Münster so here are some HCs 😊 Warning : Lots of angst lol

Let's imagine for a second that, after meeting with Bucky, clearly grieving, a bit drunk and all in all not fit for being on a mission, Harding decides not to have him on the Münster mission

Instead, he sends him to the flak house which was a decision he'd already thought about after Dye's party but Gale had convinced him to send John on a weekend pass instead

So Bucky is ordered to the flak house despite his best efforts to convince Chick he can be on the mission

He's so angry at everything and everyone : Buck for having left and being shot down, the 100th for acting as if Buck was dead (he's not, Bucky'd know), Chick for sending him to the flak house instead of giving him a chance to let him join Buck, either down below or even higher in the skies, the world for having taken his Gale from him

Most of all he's mad at himself because he left Buck, he wasn't there with him, instead he was spending the night with Paulina and while he was doing that Buck had already been shot down and he didn't know

He's in a strange place of grieving Buck but also convinced he's not dead because if he is, then there is nothing more for Bucky to do in this world

He lashes out at pretty much everyone but is somewhat grateful the doctor doesn't try to make him talk, and lets him be morose and quiet in his corner

He doesn't try to socialise with anyone and tries to drink as much as he can but there's only so much alcohol to be found in the flak house

He barely sleeps because all he can see when he closes his eyes are images of Gale bleeding, Gale unconscious as his plane goes down, Gale exploding with his plane, Gale pierced by flak, Gale terrified and alone

He'd be sitting somewhere and feel a ghost of warmth where Buck would usually be seated, close enough for Bucky to sling an arm around his shoulders except the space is empty

The Münster mission goes as it does in the show : only Rosie's crew make it back and that's the last straw for Bucky

Not only Buck's gone but now almost all the men he flew from the US with, Brady, Murph, Crank, his boys

Chick hasn't put a time limit to his stay at the flak house because even if he needs a Major now more than ever, he knows Bucky can't do that right now

Bucky can't bring himself to talk to Rosie's crew when they arrive at the flak house, too busy with his own grief and anger (a bit like he was at the Stalag except there's no Buck to check on him and pull him out of his own head)

He can't even look at them because why couldn't it be Buck who came back unscathed ? He immediately hates himself even more at the thought because it's unfair to Rosie and his men but also because Buck would never in a million years want that

He'd rather be the only one to go down if it means all his boys make it back rather than the other way around and Bucky knows that

More and more he can hear Buck's voice in his head, which isn't a good sign so he doesn't mention that to anyone, but he clings onto it like a lifeline. He refuses to forget what Buck's voice sounds like, not when he's already starting to forget the exact shade of blue of his eyes no matter how long and hard he stares at the picture he has of him and Buck from flight school or how long he stays awake at night picturing Buck's face not to forget it

Still Buck's features become blurry and John hates himself even more because can he even say he loves Gale if a few days were enough for him not to remember the exact shape of his jaw, the curve of his nose ?

Except that Buck's voice doesn't just sound like his voice, it says things like Buck would say

Encouraging Bucky to drink a bit less, to go to sleep even if he can only close his eyes without falling in Morpheus' arms, to eat more, not to give up on himself and not to give up on Buck

Voice!Buck encourages him to go talk to Rosie and his crew, not even to be Major Egan but just someone who knows what they've been through, someone they can talk to

And Bucky knows that's what Buck would want him to do. Knows that from wherever Buck is, he'd be worrying about his men and about Bucky

So he does the only thing that he can do for Buck at the moment and tries to pull himself in a semblance of a man

How ironic is it that even though he's not there, even though he's been shot down while Bucky was enjoying a woman's touch, Gale's still the one to save him ?

So Bucky starts to pull himself together and is eventually sent back to Thorpe Abbotts

He's not even 75% alright but he can do his job even though he still drinks more than what's healthy

Chick was never scared Bucky would pull a suicide mission because he knows that no matter how deep in gried, Bucky'd never endanger his men like that, but he feels a tad bit more serene when sending him on missions

Bucky is absolutely burning with his want for revenge and justice

In December, he learns that Gale's alive and that changes things

It's like a weight was lifted from his shoulders and he can finally look up from the ground to look at the stars and hope

Which is strange because he's always known Gale was alive, too stubborn to die, but now nobody looks at him with pity anymore

And the thought that Buck is down there in a POW camp makes him even more determined

He sends Buck's letters even though he has no idea if the Germans will let it get to him but he still does (girl worth writing too and all)

In the meantime he kicks up a friendship with Rosie

He flies his 25 missions but he re-enlists because there is no way in hell he'll be going home while Buck is still a POW

No, he'll drop bombs until Germany's unconditional surrender and the liberation of the POWs

He gets a letter back from Buck and he has to go hide himself in the cockpit of B-17 to read it because he knows he'll lose control of his emotions

He absolutely cries in relief and because of course Gale would ask him if he's alright and hope he's holding up okay

Not so gently threaten Buck into taking care of himself and not be the sacrificial idiot John knows him to be in his next letter, even though he has little hope Buck will do it

But if Voice!Buck was enough to pull him out of his hole, maybe knowing Bucky is waiting for him will be enough to give Buck something something to stay alive for

Bucky you idiot Buck was fighting and staying alive for you all along

As D-Day gets nearer he's more determined than ever to really deal a blow and bring Gale closer to home

He doesn't fly as many missions as Rosie but that's okay with him. Even if he'd rather be the one flying with his boys as many times as he can, he knows the work he does is helpful to the cause.

He still doesn't take his lucky deuce back from Buck's footlocker though. The bunk stays empty, no one daring to even sit on it. Bucky dusts Buck's stuff often, makes sure everything's in top condition for when Gale comes back

As the Russians grow nearer to the POW camp, Buck stops answering his letters and while Bucky tries to rationalize, he's still going mad with worry

Especially when he sees how's the winter is treating Germany

The nightmares, which haven't ever fully left, come back in full force as all the different scenarios for POWs haunt him

He absolutely refuses to imagine he could lose Buck so close to the end

And then April 1945 comes around

Bucky was on a mercy mission of his own when he comes back to be greeted with Blakely and Kidd, smiling wider than he's seen them do in years

Immediately, hope swells in his chest, echoes of POW camps being liberated in his ears

He welcomes back Gale like in the show, guiding him to land the plane with tears in his voice then immediately steals Jack's jeep to welcome him on the runway

Absolutely gives him the tightest, fiercest hug ever seen

He doesn't let Gale out of his sight for even one second, devastated to see the effects of being a POW for so long had on his Gale but so damn relieved to finally have him back

Is a bit embarrassed to show Gale how he's been taking care of his footlocker but tries to make light of it

"I knew you'd be back. Told any loony trying to take your bunk that you were just MIA."

And "I've been expecting you back for more than a year, what took you so long ?" though he's choking on his tears by the end of it and Gale's eyes glisten too

They hug for a long time after that

More in the reblogs because I've somehow hit the characters limit lol

[the-monkeies-girl]

Nighttime/Dreams/Sleep. ( POTA Headcanons, Caesar, Noa, Blue Eyes x Reader )

Oh boy I'm a domestic bitch don't look @ me

Caesar is incredibly protective, something that seems almost magnified during the night. He knows the contention within some of the Apes, the animosity that is spared towards you due to the choice of the Ape King to have a Human Mate. Night time is a vulnerable time for all of them, especially you even though you share your nest with Caesar and know he would protect you by any means necessary. The thought does linger with the King though. If someone were to do something to you, or if you were to take off without his knowledge and something happened, he'd never forgive himself for it.

That being said, he is very adamant that you do not leave the nest area during the night. If you needed to do something like reliving yourself, you were always free to wake him up and he would assist you ( We love a protective king <3 ).

Waking up in the middle of the night occurs for you every so often when the buzz inside of your mind won't stop spiraling down the metaphorical drain. The thoughts are racing of how you came to get in your position, how you remember Humanity and the things you needed to do to survive, some of which are unspoken aspects of your relationship with Caesar. The phrase 'You did what you had to do' really comes into play here and he's never been one to push it to the point where his questioning made you uncomfortable. You talk to him on your own scale and that is more than okay because he himself is the same way.

Caesar can sense you awake, sometimes it feels like he's able to do just that without even opening his eyes. The rise and fall of your breathing gets mildly more erratic, now slow and paced as if you were in a deep sleep. Your scent wafts his way as you roll onto your back with a small sigh, staring up longingly at the shadows casted on the ceiling above from the dying fire.

He's not one to say anything first unless you wanted to talk. Unless you had a dream that was not favorable and you wanted him to comfort you with words. He's not the greatest at it, Caesar himself knows this, but words of affirmation are things you do seek from him occasionally.

The swing of the fire as it was slowly turning to ashen embers near the center of the scape nest enclosure, high above the rest of the clan, gave semblance to you in your mind haze, having falling from a restless slumber, of a dream within a dream. Caesar is quick to draw you against him, his favored position of sleeping being that on his stomach, something that you found adversely innocent for his personality, but all the more enticing as you liked to brush your fingers along his shoulder blades before you fell asleep. You're pulled right into his side, your face nestling in and taking in Caesar's musky scent, something that soothes your racing mind without hesitation. His heartbeat is slower as he was still passionately swept into the throes of sleep, only conscious enough to sense your suddenly restlessness but the rhythmic ticking of the organ inside his chest always helps you lull back to sleep, eyes falling shut as you are consumed with his warmth and convince your mind that you were safe, Caesar's ever endearing grasp on you made sure of that. Nothing, none of the past things that were done to you from other Humans as the Flu took everything, even empathy, would ever touch you when he held you and rested you back to slumber.

You very seldom ever leave the nest and if you do, Caesar is very much on your tail, having felt you shift out despite your best efforts at being gentle, following your scent to where it leads him. More often than not, it's the fire-pit in the space you shared together, your shoulders are draped in a bear hide he had gifted you after spotting it and killing it. He knew you liked thicker pelts, and this was the best aside from his own fur and heat. His brooding frame catches your attention almost right away as your falling back and forth between sleep and being awake, not sure which your racing mind would like to follow. It scares you, as if you're in a dream until he manages to come into actual view of the dim light provided by the flames and you feel an embellishment of relief that it was him and not Koba there to kill you, his gait so familiar to you as you peer at each other with tired gazes. Caesar is a man of actions, aside from words as said before. He'll seat himself behind you, your arm opening the pelt enough for him to squeeze into it as his arm wraps around your smaller frame and brings you into him, golden and hazel green eyes are looking at the dying flame, knowing that feeding it would garner more heat surely, but that would mean leaving you for a second too long.

If words are ever spoken in these moments, is usually you who will initiate them. Telling him about your dreams, asking to the universe themselves what they meant. Caesar had no idea --- He had dreams much like your own often. About his life with Will, Caroline and Charles. There are no answers and both of you know that. He waits in baited silence before you tilt your head against his shoulder and whisper that you're ready to take him back to the nest to which the Ape King is quick to sweep his Queen into his arms, nestling you deeper into the passions of sleep and carries you back to himself.

These nights where you wake up are hard on him admittedly. Caesar will spend the rest of the night watching you sleep instead of getting any sleep for himself. A willing sacrifice he was making in a bid to keep you safe and secure.

Noa.

The sort of Ape to come to the nest on a later basis than your own schedule.( Unless you're actually doing something before bed, wink wink. ) Noa does had a routine to take care of the Eagles, putting their sleeping masks on and making sure that they were all secure for the night before trailing back, thus making him roll into the nest with you about an hour or so after you'd fallen asleep.

~*You'd tried to help him out once or twice with the birds to learn more about this aspect of his Clan but ended up falling asleep and Noa had to carry you back in his arms, careful as to not disturb you as your loose arms around his neck, the only form you were able to give him mid-sleep to leverage yourself against his thinned and sleek body, reminds him how fragile you are. You often wake up the next morning embarrassed that you had fallen asleep in the first place and tell Noa to keep you awake next time because you want to learn. He does not listen. Noa thinks ( and is right ) that your sleep is more important, at least in that moment he sees your head teeter to the side and your eyes sliding shut.

Most nights, you're deep in the throes of it, only acknowledging him once he places his muzzle against your shoulder, his way of telling you that he was there and that you're safe. Noa takes pride in watching your smile form on your face as you tugged out of sleep enough to garner him a welcome as he pulls you near to him. With open arms, you roll closer, helping the Chimp and letting your body conform to his own and taking in the scent of the fire he had been near from the Eagle Enclosure.

If there is ever a night that Noa returns to notice that the flame of the fire-pit was a bit brighter than usual, he is very fast to scoot himself inside as he knows you're still awake. Noa is swift on his spaced out toes to greet you, letting his hands cup the side of your face and bring you in to grace you with your foreheads kissing to which he enjoys lingering. It is such a treat for him that you wait for him to return so you can fall asleep together, something vastly intimate about that and Noa really lives for it. The way that your hair glows in the fire as his thickened fingers tangle into them, the way that your breathing picks up upon first contact and he's able to look down and see your chest heaving through the thin and faded t-shirt you used to sleep in, obviously too big for you and resting mid-thigh, but Noa was not one to complain as he kept you warm throughout the night. The soft exhalation that hits the Chimps ears as you're embraced are enough to light his entire body on fire and without hesitation, he is picking you up from your rested spot near the fire that was stoked to keep you toasted until his return, your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs drawing themselves around his waist. Noa will carry you back to the nest itself, the bundle of springy branches mixed with a delicate flush of Eagle Feathers so inviting for the both of you as you take in each other, probably for the first time that day as with his Father's passing and Noa taking the mantle himself, he was quite busy. There's gentle conversation as he tells you of his day, events and you're doing the same, your voice languid around the edges and Noa knows you're destined for sleep soon. His mouth laying itself against your collarbones and taking in the sweet scent you always had for him, your body still pressed against him as he held you in a straddle, hands cupping at the back of your thighs and taking in the delectation of your bare skin there before he ( reluctantly, he'd let you sleep in his arms if it were up to him ) moves to place you on your back, your arms and legs still holding onto him and you're subconsciously bringing his entire body down to crush against your own. Noa draws a deep breath in at that, his pelvic bone hitting yours in greatened friction before your grip finally loosens and you let him place you properly, tugging up your favorite animal pelt to drape along you which you grasp tightly with your right hand.

The Master of the Birds then... Watches, on his hands and knees above you, how you drift off to sleep. Your eyelashes fluttering against the very top of your cheekbones, mouth falling open, your fingers once tense and wrought to stay awake and enjoy the affection you two always tangled away into now gone and the digits of your hands were soft and smoothed. He knows it's completely consumed you when your breathing becomes more shallow, and he's dipping his head down to press against your clothed sternum, his body twisting in a way that he was able to lay on his side, holding you while his face falls into your neck. Slow... Slow breathing for Noa as he gets himself unwinded enough for slumber to overcome his senses.

Blue Eyes.

Has gotten to be very restless at night as he thinks about what happened with Koba and to Ash. Nightmares probably plague him more often than he's really willing to admit to you as he is soft to get out of the nest on the cold flushed evenings when sleep refused to seek solace in his eyes. Blue Eyes will linger by the edge of the nest and think things over as he peers and studies how you sleep. The ease of your breathing that shifted the animal pelt wrapped around you oh so gently, the fire behind him casting shadows of his body against your own like you were were tangled into each other in intimacy. You bring him back to the ground if he ever has a nightmare about what happened, unable to shake the guilt he carried for what happened to his best friend, unable to save him and no matter how many times he was in the dream itself, Blue Eyes always found his hands reaching for Ash in help knowing he was too afraid in the moment to stand up to Koba out of instinctual fear of what would happen to himself if he had done anything about it. The Ape considered himself greatly responsible for it, but watching you sleep so peacefully in front of him, his azure gaze able to detect the shining silver of previous bite marks that he had left against your jugular, Blue Eyes feels calmed and radiated with warmth.

He's so far into introspective thought that he doesn't notice your eyes fluttering open as he's usually so transfixed on your breathing. The inhales, slow and painful like you were holding them in your lungs for too longer followed by an almost white heated exhale, some of the soft noises tugging themselves out of the back of your throat... He wonders to himself what he had done at all to deserve you, to deserve your grace and knows for a fact that Ash would have been so accepting to him.

You crawling your way to the edge of the nest, the sound of the crunching of branches under your sustained weight finally tugging the Ape Prince out of his state of hypnotic trance as you bring a hand up to cup the side of his face as you signed with your other, 'Another bad dream?' 'Ash...' The way that Blue Eyes signed that as if it were upwards towards the sky as he let his gaze fall to the left of you on an unfixed point on the thickets of wood that made the enclosure safe and sturdy for the two of you to build a future in, 'He calls to me... Can... Cannot explain why. Miss him...' The softness that hits your eyes is palpable, tugging yourself nearer to Blue Eyes as you draped one arm around his neck first to garner him to finally look at you. And when he does, the gasp that tumbles from your lips at the reddening under his beautiful eyes, the tearing across his face tell you all you needed to know about the scope of his nightmare. There was nothing to say as your head was brought forward, holding onto your mate with all your might as you drew your lips against his the right of his muzzle, the corner of your mouth barely grazing against his as your breath eradicated almost all of his senses. 'Lay with me,' You signed, not feverishly as it was so often used with that phrase, but more a bid to get him back into the nest and to stop standing with his back to the cold. 'Tell... me... About Ash... About your...' You didn't know the sign for it as sleep was still plaguing your mind, your eyes falling shut as you felt Blue Eyes tilting his head into your lips further, begging you to help him in silence as he was looking down at your hands signing between your bodies. "Friendship." You finally rested in whispering that, the hand that had been signing was now being tugged around his muscular neck as you beckoned him to move with you, falling back into the nest with Blue Eyes simmering behind you. His large hands are on your sides for a moment to deduce that the moment was real before he drew himself completely into you, almost consuming in the hold he had on you as the Prince pressed his forehead against yours while leveraging his body above yours by sustaining his weight on a forearm.

Blue Eyes does talk, finally. One of those incredibly rare moments where his voice is verbally used and it's so deep, such a rich baritone that encases your entire body as he starts to tell you about his dreams, about the severity and the vivid nature as if he were having to relive it over and over again. The look on his face as he gazes down at you, watching with intense focus on how you were reacting, afraid that you were going to judge him, think less of him for not being able to save his friend so long ago... But there's none of that as Blue Eyes brings his forehead down against your own once he's completed his words, telling you a silent thank you for showing him such compassion. 'I think...' He signs as he falls in the nest adjacent to you, grasping at your shoulder with his other hand to get you to rest against his chest which you are happy to do, looking at the minor detailing of his face from the light of the dying fire and noticing the droop of his eyes. 'He would... Have... loved you... I... wish... he'd have... known you.' You smile fondly at him, nuzzling your face into his neck out of meager satisfaction that you were able to get him to come down from the acute state of fear and self-loathing that only hit him in the dead of night, Blue Eyes too often afraid to wake you up and seek for comfort that way. 'Maybe he does, do not know what lies for us beyond here.' Was your final signing as the Chimp below you fell into the trenches himself, his eyes fallen slanted, his breathing restful and eased as he held on you, eager and desperate to keep his calm and peace with you as you often were the one to bring it to him, knowingly or unknowingly.

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (X)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 4.127

CW: MDI, 18+, oral (f reciving), violence, angst, incest, not proofread!

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part l next part

disclaimer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

(smut is between the dividers by @zaldritzosrose)

The reminder of that week Aemond rarely strayed from Visenya’s side, at first it started with daily dragon rides. Vermithor and Vaghar riding side by side.

It had been the first time they had flown on their respective dragons, when before Aemond had claimed Vaghar, Visenya often took Aemond on the back of Vermithor, and now seeing him atop his own dragon was a strange experience. He looked so strong and proud. He was born to be a dragon rider.

Long gone was the shy and nervous Aemond, who feared never riding a dragon of his own, the boy who would hold his dragon egg over the fire day and night in hopes it would hatch. Now he seemed to share a deep bond with Vaghar, though she had joked that perhaps the old dragon had mistaken him for her first rider, Queen Viseyna.

“It would make sense, you both had long silver hair, Valyrian features-“ she had started as they walked the halls of the keep, having returned from their dragon ride.

“I am sure she doesn’t think me to be the conquer” Aemond dismissed, shaking his head, “ as much as I am flattered at the notion, I am sure Vaghar can tell the difference.

“Really? She is what, 150? Surely riders blur together after a time” She jested.

He hummed “And how are we sure Vermithor does not mistake you for old King Jaehaerys?”

She gasped in shock, “are you calling me and old man?” She laughed, “no offence to our great grandsire but, I highly doubt we had much in common, bar our Valyrian features”

“Was that not your driving point for me being mistaken as Visenya?” He hummed.

She scoffed in jest, “It was a compliment!” She insisted, walking towards Aemond, “Do you not remember our lessons? How you said if you were to have a wife you would have one like Visenya, a fierce warrior?” She hummed.

“I do, and tell me, sweet Visenya, have you become a fierce warrior?”

“You think I would have spent years in the north, where woman are encouraged to train with shield and sword, or with Daemon on Dragonstone and not be taught at least the basics?” She asked.

“I suppose I should have guessed” he said as they approached the entrance to the training yard, “mayhaps you could show me your skills?”

She smirked, leading the way.

Luckily she wore her riding leathers, allowing her more movement than her typical gown, with trousers and tunic she was offered the same mobility as Aemond, though he was much taller than her. As they stood sword in hand ready to face the other, he seemed to tower over her, and even his steps seemed more graceful as they began to curl each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

He eventually acted first, his sword clashing with hers as her quick reflects deflected his attack.

Their swords clanged against one another, neither making a move as each attack was deflected or treated with its own attack in kind. It wasn’t until Visenya decided on a new tactic that an attack (though with training swords) was truly struck. She stepped back, circling him before turning her body in a quick flourish, her sword bashing his, and her swords tip pressing against his chest.

He hummed, seemingly impressed, though not for long as he quickly regained momentum of his sword and attacked her sword with his own, the sword nearly flying from her hand and she once again moved in a flourish, this time to defend rather than attack.

They circled each other once again, their swords drawn, waiting for the others next move.

An audience had gathered now. Sending him a smirk she started  her next round of attacks.

Their swords clanged loudly thought the courtyard, their bodies swerving each attack, barley dodging each others sword.

They seemed to circle the other for hours, though only minutes passed. Their eyes locked, their glaze seemed taunting, teasing. She bit her lip, causing his eye to be drawn to her lip, his gaze heated.

She used this opportunity to knock the sword from his hand, and bring in her her own to his neck.

Applause sounded around the courtyard.

She laughed, lowering her sword.

“I hope you do not wish to join our wedding tourney with those skills.” She joked.

He hummed, “you are impressive” he mused, taking their swords and placing them on the rack. “Mayhaps you should enter the tourney”

She laughed “and loose the chance to win the queen of love and beauty? I think not”

He smiled, “I shame I hate tourneys, or I would have assured you the crown”

“You do?” She asked, face dropping a little, “I always thought them romantic”

They started to walk back through the keep, set to return to their chambers before their engagement feast tonight, “I suppose Cregan will at least enter, and he shall crown me upon his victory.”

“Cregan? Cregan Stark?” He sneered the question “you still talk to him?” Jealousy clear in his tone.

“Of course, he is my dearest friend”

“But your mother wished to marry you both.” “So? He has had a wife and a son since then, and I, in case you have forgotten thought to stay betrothed to you!” she glanced at him, his face was set in a sneer, jealously clear in his features. She laughed “the love I have for him is simply platonic, I can assure you”

“Hmm…perhaps I shall enter the tourney, it is only right I crown my betrothed personally”

She laughed “of course, Aemond.” She said once they reached the door to her chambers, “I shall see you at the feast”

That nigh the halls of the red keep were packed full of lords and ladies from throughout the realm. The feast was grand, with food from the best cooks from throughout the realm, no expense was spared, with the most famous bards playing her favourite songs, and the ladies and lords dancing and laughing as they all filled their stomachs with food and wine.

And yet as she stood saying pleasantry after pleasantry, answering the same questions again and again she did not find any joy. She had not eaten or drank a thing, despite the feats being hallway through, and Aemond had still yet to arrive.  

The few moments she had spent escaping her quests were spent comforting Heleana as she had quickly grown overwhelmed with the noise.

Heleana had tried to stay as long as she could, but the second the first hour ended, Visneya saw it fit for her to leave. She loved her aunt, her sweet friend and though she hated the lack of her presence at her ceremony, she hated seeing her discomfort more.

She felt a sense of loneliness with her gone. Finding her eyes dancing around the room in search for a friendly face, for Aemond’s face.

And yet the closest she got to Aemond, was Aegon.

Aegon’s eyes always followed her, words always seeming to be on the tip of his tongue anytime she neared him. He had quickly gotten drunk, sat in a corner with his friends, Leon she believed one of them to be called. And yet she could feel his eyes on her. Watching her.

For years he had been the closest she had gotten to Aegon, having become a dear friend and confidant, but seeing him in person, he was entirely different to the Aegon she knew.

He was still obsessed with her, more than ever. His eyes always on her. Or Always finding her when she was alone.

But Aegon had changed drastically, he was a drunk and a terrible husband. Ignoring Helaena in favour of whores and wine, she had not seen a nice word shared between them. Her was a good father though, with the twins often in his company, when he was sober that was.

And though his eyes seemed to invite her over, she stayed put. Continuing her endless conversation with some Redwyne lord.

“Senya!” she heard a voice boom, and suddenly she was turning around the see Cregan Stark.

“Cregan!” she boomed back, excusing herself from lord Redwyne. “I thought you would not be here till tomorrow!”

“aye, we were meant to arrive later this evening, but decided to rush here. Couldn’t miss your feast now could i?” he spoke, smiling.

“I am glad, I have missed you.”

“aye, as have i.” he said, before starting to look around the room “nowhere is this betrothed of yours? About time I made an introduction.”

She scoffed, “I do not know!” she shook her head, “he hasn’t shown up yet”

Cregan send her a confused look, “and here I thought I was late! How can he be this late to his won feast”

“how should I know?”

“well I suppose this means you have yet to take to the dance floor then?”

She smiled, “why is Cregan Stark asking me to dance?”

He laughed, “aye, about time I did.”

She laughed taking his outstretched hand.

“tonight has been dreadfully dull” she spoke up, as they took the floor, “I was hoping for some kind of commotion”

He laughed, “well from the look on your uncle Aemond’s face I would say one might be coming soon.” “oh, Daemon always looks like that, always looking for a fight” she laughed, as they continued their dance.

The pair caught up, though with their constant letters there was little to catch up on, though Cregan seemed happy with her and Aemond finding away to reconcile. He had known her angst, her years of feeling alone and had hated how she had been forced to leave the north. She seemed to fit in perfectly in the north, with her snow kissed hair, she seemed to blend in to even the summer snow.

As the dance came to an end, the doors opened and Aemond finally strolled in. Visenya slowly separated herself from Cregan, as Aemond approached her.

Her carried a gift with him, and a smirk.

“betrothed” he said in greeting.

“Aemond” she greeted in return, “you are late” she scowled, moving them away from the prying eyes of the gathered lords and ladies.

“Apologies, I… I had something to do.” He presented her his gift, a jewellery box “here, one of the many gifts I plan to give you.”

She looked unsure as she grabbed the box from his hand, opening it she saw a sapphire necklace.

The necklace had five layers, the last three encased with sapphire jewels. A  large sapphire lied in the centre, with smaller sapphires placed side by side it, encased in their own ring of gold.

She gasped as she opened it, “its beautiful”

“just like you, my Sapphire” she smiled shyly, motioning Aemond to place it on her.

She had forgone a necklace tonight, finding little need for it, but as Aemond placed this necklace on her next her attire felt complete, as if she had forgone the necklace in preparation for Aemond, though he had left to hints to gifts.

“come” she motioned Aemond, gripping his arm as she led him to the table. As always their family sat on one long table, facing out onto the crowd, her grandsire sat in his chair, adjacent to the iron throne. On his left sat Alicent, and on his left sat her mother Rhaenrya.

As the family all moved to sit, though Heleana’s seat was left empty. Her grandsire stood to speak.

“I am most joyous to welcome you all here today.” He smiled, looking over to where she and Aemond sat. “today we celebrate the betrothal of my granddaughter, Princess Visenya, the future heir to the iron throne, and my son Prince Aemond, her future consort.” Applause sounded, as the king continued “today we celebrate the start of their celebrations, before they marry at the end of the week!” more applause sounded, “tonight we feast and fill our bellies and tomorrow the tourney shall start!”

Aemond looked over to where Cregan sat at the news of a tourney. He sent him a smirk, though not that Cregan seemed to care as he simply laughed at the princes jealousy.

“Aemond” she started, grabbing his hand as the room once again filled with music, dance and laughter, “do you wish to dance?”

“no” he spoke quickly. Causing her to thrown.

“oh” she said dejected. He looked over at her, frowning at her own frown.

“I do not like to dance, my Sapphire”

“of course” she said, as she started to fill her plate.

She turned to face Jace, who wore a scowl.

“is something wrong brother?”

“no, just I had thought the wedding celebrations were to happen over a moon”

“no, you are staying a moon, but I marry at weeks end.”

He sent her a dejected look, as if he had some plan that was now ruined. He quickly replaced his frown with a smile, “would you like to dance?”

“yes!” she said gleefully, sending Aemond a look as he scowled.

She and Jace must have danced for five songs before finally retuning to their seats. She was out of breath as she started to speak to Aemond. But Aemond wasn’t listening.

No, his attention was solely focused on the pig that had been placed before him and the laugh on Lukes face.

He slammed his fist against the table.

“Aemond” she whispered, “please don’t”

He looked at her, sneering. Though it was not directed at her, at least she hoped not.

"not in front of all these people Aemond, please"

He ignored her "I would like to make a toast to my family, for today we reunite after years apart, I hope our bond will grow...hmm.. Strong" he stopped, looked at Luke and Jace, then continued'' I have missed my nephews, I hope that we will once again be able to rebuild a strong... bond we shared in our youths"

Naive to what had just happened her Grandsire cheers, happy at Aemond seeming making amends.

Her brothers were struggling to keep calm knowing a public reaction could be all the confirmation the court needed for the rumours to become the truth.

Jace flinched, realising what Aemond’s speech was saying and how the court could take it, so he declared his own toast "thank you, uncle. I cherish the memories we shared in out youth, and now in honour of your betrothal to my sweet sister" he stops, stares at her, thinking his words through " i-i raise this toast to you to wish you and my sister congratulations, may your marriage be fruitful, and your bond remain strong" he sneered the last word, hating the very word.

She stood up "thank you dear brother" she says to Jace before turning to the hall "today is a joyous day, and it is only the beginning of what I can only hope will be a marriage of unity for our house” she seemed to displace the tension that was building in the room, with a small round of applause sounding.

Glares were sent around the table, and though their guests acted naïve to it as they all went about continuing in the festivities, they all seemed to be waiting for a fight.

She looked down, a nervous look filling her face as she started to pick at her food.

Dread filling her body as she saw Aegon move down the table, wishpering something in his ear. And before she knew it Jace was punching Aegon square in the jaw.

Gasps were sounded from the crowd, bets being placed as she saw the exchange of bags of coins between tables.

Aemond stood up, pulling Jace of Aegon, only for Jace to turn around and punch square in the jaw.

A chuckle escaped him, unbothered by Jaces punch and simply pushing him to the floor.

The guards move forward, separating the pair as Luke attempts to get to Aemond

She scoffed as Aemond laughed at the state of her brothers.

She looked around the room, many of the guests had started their own fight, many were trapped, trampled, punched and kicked. Guards trying their best to separate them.

If Visenya had bothered to stay longer, perhaps she could have seen the outcome of the night. But the second the king dismissed the hall, she had left. Not bothering what had happened or was going to happen. The only thing she cared about was going to sleep and dealing with the problems in the morning.

She was awoken a dawn to the sound of a wall being pulled open.

Sitting up in her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she came face to face with Aemond, a sheepish look on his face and a bouquet of Azaleas, her favourite flower.

“Aemond?” she asked, trying to wake herself up “what are you doing here?”

“i- I came to apologise” he looked down, almost sheepishly, “my actions…I regret them. I acted in jealousy and anger and I have come to beg for your forgiveness.”

“What you did last night, in front of all those people…It was reckless and idiotic.” She shook her head “I would have expected such a thing for Aegon, but you? I cannot say it didn’t hurt. To hurt my own brother, to tease their legitimacy, it was ridiculous and i… I know you have changed but I did not think you cruel”

“have I not told you I have grown cold? I did not jest when I said it, and though I do not harbour kind feelings to your family….i shall not act upon them again, though my behaviour, I can not say it will not happen. I am jealous and reckless. If I am offended I will not sit by and let myself nor you be insulted.” He moved towards the bed.

“I- I understand that Aemond, but please keep your anger away from the prying eyes of the realm”

“I will, I am sorry, truly” you reached for the flowers in his hand, sniffing them and smiling at the gesture.

Her duvet had fallen to her waist, leaving her chemise on show. With the hot weather she had worn a thin, near sheer chemise to bed, one that made no efforts to hide her from.

She blushed as Aemond looked at her, his eyes drawn to the outline of her breasts.

“Aemond?” she asked, trying to capture his attention, he looked up, a blush of his own on his cheeks as he moved forward and kissed your lips.

It was the first kiss you had both shared, though it was clear that he had more experience than she did, as his mouth quickly dominated hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth, causing her to moan softly.

She fell back in the bed Aemond falling with her.

The kiss was soft and yet full of passion.

“Visneya” he whispered against her lips as her pulled back from her. “I need to taste you”

She hummed, “i- you wish to…”

He smirked, pulling the covers of the duvet fully back, and moving to position him self down her body. He looked up at her as he played with the hem of her chemise.

She smiled, moving to lift it up and bare her wet cunt to him.

He moaned at the sight, and quickly buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her slit teasingly, realising in the moans he let out at the feeling of his tongue against her slit. She grew wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, her moans increasing as he started to focus his attention on her clit. Gripping her hips he started to  gave small yet fast licks at her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding, moaning in pleasure.

He started to move his tongue faster, moaning at he taste of her.

“Aemond” she moaned as she reached forward and gripped onto his hair, grinding her hips into his face, causing him to groan.

Her movements became erratic, her peak fast approaching.

Aemond buried himself further into her thighs, determined to make her cum all over his face.

And soon enough he felt her legs squeeze his head as she finally peaked.

“gods” she moaned, lying back.

Aemond smirked, look over her pleasure ridden face, “Am I forgiven now?” he asked teasingly, his own response was a slap on the arm, causing him to laugh.

He had left her rooms once her maid came to wake her, promising to return for breakfast. Where he once again brought her a bouquet of Azaleas.

Breakfast had passed quickly, and before she knew it she was making her way to the royal box for the first day of the tourney.

She had made a favour in hopes Aemond had meant what he said about entering the tourney and crowing her the queen of love and beauty.

She had chosen blue and white ribbon, she herself, though not the best with needle and thread, had embroidered dragons across the fabric, trying her bets to capture the likeness of Vaghar and Vermithor.

The Tourney was to be a three day affair. With men from throughput the realm filling the lists. The winners of each round would go against the other winners the following day, and on the third and final day the winner the winners would once again face one another until a victor was declared.

The first day was often long and uneventful. That was until it was Aemond’s round. He was pitted against his own brother Aegon.

Aemond had galloped into the arena, atop a white horse, his armour black and red, with the Targaryen crest carved across his chest.

Her rode up to the royal stands, Visenya sat front row with Heleana on one side and Belea then Rheana on her other. The rest of the family sat behind them, Deamon was not there however, having entered the tourney himself.

Aemond approached them, his horse stopping before Visenya, "my betrothed, I am sure to win this tourney with your favour".

She sent him a smile as she walked over to him placing her favour on his lance. “of course, I wish you luck, my prince”

"I do not need luck, my sapphire, not with your favour”

Visenya knew of Aemond skill, and Aegon’s lack thereof. He did not need skill for this joust, but for tomorrow he would.

He charged at Aegon, and though they both new Aegon cared not for the tourney, having been forced to entre by Alicent once she heard of Aemond’s entry, he was not expecting Aegon to try, and yet it seemed he was. As Aegon charged at him, aiming for his torso.

Their lances clashed one another’s as Aemond was forced to bend back to avoid being hit, and direct his own lance at his brother his lance flung to the side, Aemond’s grip was weak, but stayed he manged to stay in place.

They circled back, charging each other once more , this time Aemond’s lace, aimed under the horses head, causing the horse fell back and Aegon to fall.

Defeated and unbothered Aegon simply lay there, waiting for his brother to drag him up, laughing at his loss.

Aemond continued to win, having been victorious against Loren Lannister and Damion Veleryon as well as many aspiring knights. He eventually found himself in the final round, the last day of the tourney. And his opponent, Creagan Stark.

Aemond was fuelled with jealousy.

He had heard Visneya cheering for Cregan, her compliments of his skill and her teasing on how he would surely crown her if Aemond was not victorious.

Aemond had charged at Cregan, and Cregan, never one to back down from a challenge only acted with the same force as he did.

They were both thrown from their horses, before calling for their swords and declaring one on one combat.

The arena held a bated breath as the pair faced off.

Unlike when Visenya had spared with Aemond their was no circling, not waiting for the other to make a move. Instead Aemond simply attacked. His movements were fast and relentless, but Cregan was undeterred, easily defending himself against Aemond’s strikes.

In fact it was Cregan who disarmed Aemond, knocking him to the floor.

But Aemond did not accept defeat, pouncing on Cregan landing punch after punch.

With Cregan pinned, it was declared Aemond to be the winner, though it took the guards dragging Aemond away to stop the fighting.

He smirked as he once again took to his horse, grabbing the crown of love and beauty and riding up to Visneya, crowing her and pulling her down for a kiss in front of the crowds.

“you were a bit brutal, where you not?” she whispered as they broke apart, looking over to Cregan, who despite the broken nose seemed fine, and unbothered with his loss. In fact he had even joined the cords in the cheers.  

Aemond looked over to Cregan, shrugging “he seems fine to me”

She laughed, moving back to sit back in her seat.

taglist

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to be added to Taglist

[honeipie]

CHICK-FLICKS!

eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

synopsis: eijiro was given a tip on a way into your heart

“what are you watching?”

you looked behind the couch to see eijiro leaning himself against it. the sound of uncomfortable groaning came from the television. you grabbed the remote to pause the movie.

"bridesmaids!.. have you never seen it?"

kirishima raised both eyebrows still looking at the screen.

"i think i would've remembered a girl taking a massive dump in the sink"

turning to the television you tilted your head.

"she is taking a massive dump isn't she?" you went to find the remote again "sorry about that. sometimes i forget what i'm watching can be weird since i've seen it so many times. i'll watch it in my room"

he placed a hand over yours to stop you from turning it off.

"whoa! i never said to turn it off. i'm invested now" he hopped over the couch settling in next to you "so what is braidsmaids and what does it have to do with shitting in a sink?"

"well when you put it like that it sounds horrible" you gave him an innocent look making him smile "but it's about this one girl who's friend is getting married and she's doing her best to help plan it. but then this other girl swoops in and acts like she's that girl's best friend so it just makes the original best friends plans look all stupid and messed up so-" you stopped taking notice to the look on his face. the lights were on, but nobody was home "you don't understand a single thing i'm saying to you right now do you?" he rubbed the back of his neck a sheepish smile forming on his lips.

"nah, i'm sorry. i got lost after that one girl.. who was the girl.. who isn't her best friend?"

"don't hurt yourself" taking the remote you rewinded the movie back to the beginning.

"you don't have to do that! i probably would've gotten it eventually!"

you shook your head "nope! you are going to experience everything this amazing movie has to offer" so you settled back into the couch making sure to place your bowl of treats between you.

"oh! i forgot to warn you. the first scene is a little.. much"

but kirishima wasn't watching the screen all too much. he had his crimson eyes subtly gazing at you every chance that he got. the boy had a major crush on you, but wasn't sure how to get an in. every time he tried to start up a conversation with you, he wouldn't know what to say, which would end up with mina coming over to save his ass. that was until mina gave him some pointers.

"listen dude. you can't keep freezing up around her like you’re kaminari after he short circuits" she imitated the boy making him laugh until he realized she was insulting him.

"hey! it's not my fault! every time she looks at me i just want to give her a kiss. a really long kiss"

"ooookay lover boy. let me help you out. i'll list out things that she likes then you can say what you can connect with her on" mina got up and started walking back and forth in her room. she started listing everything that you loved "those cute farming games, crochet, watching chick-flicks.."

kirishima snorted as she said the last one.

"what is a chick-flick?"

"it's like a movie that is made quote unquote 'for women' but everybody should watch them cause they're freaking amazing"

he thought for a good moment. watching movies seemed to be the easiest (and quickest) thing to learn about.

"okay, i'll talk to her about these flicks"

"even better" mina sat next to him with a smile "every friday night when the class goes to those weekly karaoke nights, she stays home and watches them in the common room. she calls it her 'recharging time'"

kirishima nodded with a smile.

"looks like i'm clearing my plans for friday"

He went to say something but stopped hearing the disgruntled moans coming from the screen.

"y/n! what the hell are we watching?"

"that's not fair! i told you that the beginning was a lot!"

the two of you made light conversation throughout the movie. him asking questions, and you asking if he liked it so far. by the end, the two of you were in a fit of giggles as the credits rolled.

"see? i told you that it was a good movie!" you moved to face him fully.

"ok, that was pretty funny. the real question is though, are all chickflicks this good?"

"uhh yeah!" you squinted your eyes at him curiously before putting your hand out "what about this. you come back for the next couple of fridays and i'll show you just how good they can be"

kirishima looked down at your hand with a wide grin. he took it in his giving it a shake “deal” you both let the handshake linger for a couple seconds longer before hearing the door.

letting go of his hand you smiled seeing iida and mina come through the door “hey! we decided to come home early. everything okay?” she asked raising her eyebrows subtly at kiri. he gave her a smile and nodded over at the television.

“everything’s fine. we’re just watchin’ a movie”

taglist! @sagejin @aejabba

let me know if you want to be added!

[nrdmssgs]

Idk bout you but like hear me out on helping nikto get dressed like securing the man to go on a mission while you stay behind on base yk like helping him wear his gear and kissing his mask I mean what who said that? 🤨

Masterlist

Oh love, in this house kissing your man's mask is a must.

You two don't share many words. You - because you were never a particularly chatty type. Nikto for his part tries to keep his voices to himself, and any conversation would mean another chance to spit out too much.

Yet the connection between you two is obvious. It grows inevitably as you learn your ways around each other. Tread carefully, observe, memorize, analyze.

You don't need to ask him, when does his scarred face burn and itch. You already remember: it happens before the big operations. Nikto stirs himself up weeks prior to that, exercises more than usual, loses his usual appetite, barely sleeps. There is a certain cost to his extraordinary performance on a battlefield, and this is it. The last hours before the mission, he is so pent-up, his nerves eat him alive. It's when his old scars begin to hurt and torture Nikto. He clenches his teeth and hides his eyes from you.

You saw him trying his usual meds and salves before. But the pain is all in his mind, so nothing can fix it. Or so he thought before you touched him for the first time.

It feels as if you knew, where to press to relieve the tension. At first Nikto turns away, avoiding showing you the disfigured part, although this is almost meaningless since deep scars cross him from cheek to cheek, from lips to the forehead. Little by little he succumbs to your touch, leans in and buries his face in your hands.

He craves your touch. There are just not enough words to express it yet.

There is a small spot nestled between his upper vertebrae. You recall that if you press into it with your thumbs just so, he will groan and tilt his head back, murmuring soft, appreciative obscenities as you relieve the pressure on the nerve.

It sends him somewhere deep into the safety and tranquility. Nikto knew hands that could gift him pleasures before yours, but only you can bring him into another state of mind.

All because you don't treat him mechanically as one would treat a random lover. You observe. You learn.

You have meticulously learned how he prefers to wrap his arms, from his knuckles to midway up his elbow: the precise spots where he folds and knots the banding, and where he carefully tucks the ends to prevent them from coming loose during firing or fighting. Given the severe damage to the skin on his arms, he cannot endure the constant abrasion of coarse textiles. This knowledge, acquired through careful observation, surprises him now as you kneel and gently take the banding from his fingers, setting to the task with practiced precision. He watches you in silent awe. How is it possible to be this perfect? How are you this close to him, even though not in his embrace?

Nikto takes on his balaclava and the hood with straps, meanwhile you touch your fingers against a mask, lying on a bench next to him. He doesn't like it, when you take it. Not because he doesn't trust you - he would rip his own heart out and give to you, no questions asked, should you asked him to. But there are faces, grins, whines, laughter, screams, voices behind this mask. All the ugly, grim things, he tries to keep away from you.

When your soft lips press against the scratched black surface of its forehead, Nikto frowns. A hideous grimace of plastic and metal, yet you kiss it?

He remains quiet until you hand it to him. Only then he breaks the silence.

"Because it's prettier than me?"

You help him fasten all the belts and answer. Your words pass his ears and settle straight into his heart.

A relief. A tight lump growing in his throat. A warmth pulsing deep.

"Because it's a part of you."

[yanderepuck]

I already lost just let me write him. I had a bad few days and I haven't written in WEEKS. Leave me alone and let me write this.

Theo AND I deserve this

"Sounds like someone has had a bad day," Sebastian sighs while you two are in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner.

You can hear Theo grumbling outside in the hall. He has been coming home late all week in a bit of a mood, but today is by far the worst.

"Better make sure Arthur stays far away from.him.or who knows what will happen," you jest, but Theo seems on the verge of snapping.

Sebastian starts to fix a plate with what is still warm and not packed away. "Finish cleaning up in here while I take this out to him. Maybe eating will calm him down."

Sebastian takes the plate out into the dining room and goes to get Theo to eat, no matter how much he protests. You finish cleaning up quickly, putting dishes and leftovers away and hurry out of the kitchen.

Not even a half hour later Theo walks into his room. The door nearly slamming shut as he groans. He sees you on his bed from the corner of his eye but doesn't look at you. He goes right over to his desk, setting his hat down.

"What do you want, Hondje?" He shrugs his suit jacket off and hangs it up, still not even glancing at you.

"I've noticed you've been having a bad week," he scoffs. 'Bad' is probably an understatement. You stand up, having a fluffy robe cover your body. "And I was hoping I could do something to help."

"Help? What could you do to help?" He turns to look at you finally. The robe is on the floor and you are there in just your underwear and bra.

"I'm sure I can provide some stress relief."

His frown quickly turns into a smirk and steps towards you. He grabs your chin to make you look up at him. His touch is rougher than normal.

"I don't think you could handle the amount of stress I have."

"There's one way to find out. Besides, everyone needs a stress toy," you smirk back up at him.

Something about seeing him in the best and shirt combo has you going wild. Would it be wrong to ask him to roll up his sleeves and keep it on?

He lets your chin go. "Get the rest of those clothes off," you hear his belt being undone. Your underwear drop to the floor and you unhook your bra.

Theo pushes you back onto the bed and drops the rest of his clothes to the floor. Before you get yourself situated on the bed he flips you over onto your stomach. Without being asked you stick your ass up, eager for this.

He leans over you, feeling his hardening couch against you. "Remember that you asked for this. You're staying here until I'm satisfied," you can't help but moan at his words. That's exactly what you were hoping he would say.

His tip pushes in, then he keeps sliding further and further into you. You whine a little. How big is he? Does his cock even end?

With one hand on your hip and one hand gripping.hsir from the back of your head, he starts thrusting into you. He pushes your face into the bed to keep you still.

He didn't gradually get rougher, he started that way. The sound of skin slapping against each other was immediate. You had to quickly get adjusted. His full length driving into your tight hole. He is most definitely pounding into your cervix each time.

Not only are you moaning but he is too.

"Oohhh fuuuck," he grips your hip rougher. Already feeling you tighten around him. "Did you already cum?" His voice comes out as a growl. "You must have been thinking about this for a while."

He smirks and acts like your cum is lube, thrusting in faster, shifting his weight slightly to hit you in a new spot. You yelp as this. Your fingers dig into the bed, bunching up the sheets.

Theo moves you so that your ass is almost vertically in the air, pounding down into you. You're panting, whining a little, but it's all pleasurable.

You don't know how long it's been but Theo isn't slowing down. Somehow he keeps managing to get rougher. His cock really is in there rearranging your insides. You swear you feel his cock half way inside your body.

You weren't able to keep your body up any longer, so you are flat against the bed, wearing one of Theo's hands as a necklace, a tight necklace, more like a choker. His other hand was under you, squeezing one of your boobs to the point of bruising.

He wasn't kidding when he said he had a lot of stress. Your ass is red from a mixture of his rough thrusts and getting spanked from whining a little too much. You said you wanted to be his stress toy so he's going to treat you like one.

His breath was hot on your neck. You are pretty sure you have felt his fangs press against you a few times. It's the only thing he's holding back on.

You feel close to your climax for..what? The fifth time now? You're exhausted and all you are doing is laying there being cock drunk.

You're panting as he keeps going, trying to bite your lip to keep quiet. The last thing you need is someone hearing you, but it's too late to care about that. You screamed his name a few times. As long as someone was around they heard it. If anyone walked past the room they would be able to hear Theo pounding into you.

He suddenly groans. His hand leaves your throat and grabs your hair instead, yanking your head to the side to be able to sink his fangs into you.

Any control you had of quiet you had gone out the door. After the second of initial pain your body was filled with please, like it was flowing through your veins.

He drank from you. You aren't thinking too much into it, and if the mark will be able to be seen while dressed. You can't think at all really.

After a few seconds of his fang in you, his movements slow down a little, but keeping up the same force. He tugs your hair tighter and leaves his cock deep in you to cum.

You didn't think Theo could moan so loud. After licking your wound to taste the last of your blood he pulls out and lays next to you, joining you in your panting.

You can't even move your body. Slowly you let go of the sheets but you don't think you can roll over.

Despite starting to feel heavy himself, he pulls you closer to cuddle, having your head on his chest. He gently plays with your hair, massaging your head as gently as he can after being so rough. His other hand rubs up and down your back.

After all that you weren't sure that he could actually be gentle. Even though you won't be able to walk right in the morning you don't regret letting him use you.

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

[inkonparchment]

re6!Leon x agent!Reader drabble. Decompressing is not as easy as it seems.

mentions of ptsd, implied age gap, slightly graphic scenery but nothing we aren't used to in the RE-verse.

Your fingers flex by your side. Fingers splaying out against your thighs as though in search. In search for the feel of cool metal against your skin. Your hand feels empty, too light, the weight isn't correct. And then you clench your hand, rounding up your fingers in a fist.

Breathe. Breathe.

Maybe you should have stayed home instead of coming to the office party. You couldn't even remember what the celebration was for. But what good would it have done you by staying home? Staring at the walls, watching the paint peel, letting the harsh blue glare of your TV bathe you.

Breathe. Breathe.

You bring your glass to your lips, taking a small slip, rolling the liquid around in your mouth to coat it with bubbles. What was it your therapist had said? Find other ways to ground yourself. The tonic water did help put your mind off your hand. No alcohol for you though, no. So afraid that if you ventured once to seek comfort at the bottom of the bottle, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You squint against the harsh lights. Are they harsh or do they just seem like that to you? You can't tell the difference right now. The music is nice, low and soft, the sight of your coworkers intermingling keeping your eyes busy. But you can't help it, can't help your eyes darting across the room.

Locate the exit. Any hostiles? How many active shooters? Anyone with their skin peeling off, eyes popping out of their skull with their hands outstretched, mouths upturned in a snarl, the scent of rotting flesh-

Breathe. Bubbles. Breathe.

You take a step back, melting more in the background. Best not to attract attention right now, you don't think you have the energy to muster up a social conversation. You exhale a deep breath, looking down at your shoes, slight pain starting to creep in your toes from standing around in your heels too long.

You don't notice someone slide next to you.

"You're standing so far back, people might mistake you as part of the decor."

You freeze, recognising the voice. The soft, gentle low cadence that you're sure you'd be able to recognise anywhere. You lift your chin and the gnawing voices in your head cease.

The lights cast a shadow on his blond hair, almost creating a halo, blue eyes hiding under his bangs that are gentle in their way of looking at you. His warmth, the scent of his cologne drifting around him wherever he goes. And suddenly you feel awake, brought back to the ground with a sudden yank to your chain.

"Agent Kennedy!" You sound surprised and that amuses him.

"And here I thought we were finally going to be on first name basis."

You look away, put at an ease by his teasing tone. A running joke now between the two of you. Passing each other in the hallways, he would greet you by your name and you would greet him with an 'Agent Kennedy'. You don't know what it is but you can't seem to find it in yourself to call him 'Leon'.

He watches you carefully, a little shake of his head to move the bang from his eyes. "When did you get back?"

You shift the glass to your other hand, "Yesterday."

When he doesn't respond, you look up at him again to see a small smile on his face, a question dancing in his eyes. So blue. You could almost drown in them.

"What?"

"Can't believe you came to this party right after an assignment." He shrugs his shoulders. "I would've headed out to Hawaii instead."

A chuckle escapes from your lips, "Well we can't all do what you do, Agent Kennedy."

He's grown his stubble out a bit more, you notice. Eyebags lighter, more colour in his cheeks, like he isn't carrying around an unsurmountable exhaustion.

You want to know how he does it. How he's so much at ease right now. How much he's able to handle the shitload well that he's not standing in the middle of an office party of one of the most secure departments in the country, mere moments away from a breakdown.

Your eyes get a bit hazy, not wanting your state to be put on such a display, especially not around Agent Kennedy. You can feel a slow spiral beginning to grip you but it almost immediately stops.

Warmth blossoms against your skin and  the sound of your name falling on your ears brings you back to reality. He's standing more closer now, a reassuring hand pressed on your wrist where neither your dress shirt nor the coat of your pant suit covers your skin.

His face is full of understanding as though he knows, knows exactly what's been running your mind like he's been there himself. A soft squeeze. "You know where to find me."

And with a final smile, he let's go, walking away from you. You watch until he disappears into the crowd, leaving the ghost of his burning handprint against your skin.

The lights feel softer now.