#yes this was made vague as to not make it obvious what it was

[rapono-writes-stuff]

Excerpt from a fic I might end up not posting:

Mostly cuz it's a very simplified version of a plot brainworm I've had for the past few months, mixed with my lack of confidence in understanding the fandom source material. Also it's not even finished yet lol.

◇◇◇

The new stranger is familiar, and the hunter doesn't know why.

Tall, too tall, and blind, hair a stark white. Eyes always closed, and yet used their keen hearing to move as if they could see. Nothing about her was familiar, the hunter would've definitely remembered someone so vividly unordinary.

And yet, the song she often hummed scratched something familiar in the back of their mind, an undeniable feeling they'd heard it before. And for some reason, it made their guts twist with a terror they couldn't quite recall, a memory that refused to surface, but was undeniably there.

“Where'd you learn that song?”

They'd eventually been brave enough to ask, pretending they hadn't been putting off doing so, the stranger turning their head to face them, despite never opening their sightless eyes.

“…I can’t recall. Known it as long as I can remember.”

With that, they sung the beautiful tune once more, the mountains carrying their voice. The hunter stood and listened, as if the melody didn't strike them with prey-animal fear.

They dream of losing a hunt that night, but can’t recall what the monster they face looks like.

---

Today, the stranger approaches them first.

“What's troubling you little hunter? I can sense the tension in your limbs.”

They bite their tongue. They don’t want to admit the truth, make her stop singing, but they can’t find a lie.

“Your song is familiar, but I can’t recall why.”

Her posture stiffens, if only for a moment, a beat of silence unbroken. It feels a little too long, before her answer comes.

“Interesting. I wonder why.”

There's an old flatness to her tone, but the hunter doesn’t question it.

They notice she sings it less frequently around them after that, as if she knows the fear it brings. Only catching the tune in the distance, but quieting to silence as they grow close.

The hunter regrets their words, despite the fear it caused, they hadn't wanted this.

-----

The stranger has become a stranger no more. Still unusual, yes, but proving herself in the hunt, despite her lack of sight. A fellow hunter, a friend.

The song loses its bite, the tune becoming familiar for a new reason. Her voice is beautiful, and carries far, able to hear her from across the village on good day.

She no longer shies away when the hunter approaches, as they come to sit and listen.

-----

“Would you still fight alongside with me if I was a monster?”

The question catches the hunter off guard, an unusual question,

“Huh?”

She elaborates.

“If I was turned into a monster, would you hunt me?

Instinctually, a part of them pounces on a yes, of course. She would be a danger to them and everyone if such a horrible thing happened. And yet, they hesitate to answer, as a smaller, quieter voice is the one to break the silence, put the words on their tongue.

“…I don’t know.”

And it, unlike the first answer, feels more like the truth.

The former stranger smiles.

“I'd hope, at the very least, you'd hesitate.”

[magic-owl]

there is a CANON LESBIAN MAIN CHARACTER. has her storyline been totally perfect? no! it could be better! but she has a healthy and loving relationship that is fleshed out and explored and her identity is treated with respect and it matters so so much to the story and it would not be the same without her.

but here people go flinging around “queerbait” and “homophobia” like wet monkey poo because their fandom flagship ship isn’t canon come on you guys

[soyoursoulisgreen]

3, 4, 19, 20!

3. What ideas come from when you were little

I have two OCs that have really stood the test of time: Akane and Kin - though their names have changed over time haha ♪ They were the first ever queer couple I made, long long loooong before I was out even to myself and shock among shocks, they're angels lol ♥ I remember I even wrote a short story about them from like - middle school probably?? as part of an assignment haha. They've been with me for a loooong time, and I'm still very fond of them 💕

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

GLaDOS is so beautiful and I am so bad at drawing machine parts jfdklsasdf. I'm determined to draw her from both games now tho! Her design in Portal 1 is so weird!! <3

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

Plushies, no contest. Drawings the seams and darts and stitches and wear and fluff and fabric vs. fur I just ugh it's all so satisfying! The way the cloth folds over itself or stands firm on its own over well-stuffed filling! I love plushies!! Funny enough, I rarely use them as props tho haha - that's usually things like books, cups, pencils, etc.

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

I haven't heard the complaint in earnest in a while, just in a jokey fashion, but I really really enjoy drawing hands :) Hand expressions are so fun to me! They're just as expressive as faces - especially masked characters haha - and they're so versatile! Come in so many shapes, some hard, some rubberhose wiggly, some sharp and Shaped, but they still all emote similarly. Even just slight position changing can change the temperature of how it reads! It's a challenge for sure but it's just so satisfying >:3c

[satzumosupremacy]

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.10

Desperation

Male reader x Jeon Somi

Tags: Smut, literally face fucking, daddy kink

2.8k Words

You have a history with Somi. Back when you were a freshly new bodyguard, she repeatedly sought out your services. Regardless of whether the close relationship you shared with her is just a distant memory for you, she still thinks of you from time to time—perhaps more often than you'd expect. And here you are, reminiscing about the old days and walking in front of Somi as she follows behind.

“Oppa, y’know my song was inspired by you.”

“Fast Forward?”

There’s a reason why Somi isn’t your client anymore—she switched agencies, that’s the only reason. You advanced quickly, gaining many celebrity clients along the way. It’s the law of attraction: when people seek top talent, companies turn to you. And when Somi needed to make a decision on her own career as an idol, she only had two choices: move to a different agency or continue to have you by her side. It was a hard choice for Somi until she came to the obvious conclusion. You didn’t hold any resentment; you understood her decision. This was all business anyways.

However, the glares in your eyes weren't always so friendly. Your presence was already intimidating, with the black suit, sunglasses, earpiece, and sometimes even a holster at your hip. You didn't smile much, but you got the job done. Initially, Somi thought you were a cold person, but that changed once you became her regular bodyguard. The more time she spent with you, the more her perception shifted. Despite your cold and intimidating appearance, you cared for and protected your client. That was the job you had signed up for.

“I took part in the lyrics,” Somi says, causing you to stop short before opening the door and look back at her.

“What do I have to do with your song?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Just.. just missed you, Oppa. Don’t you miss me too?”

You couldn't give her an answer when she expected a 'yes,' but you remained silent. Was it wrong to forget about her? You had her phone number, but you never called or texted. Not even to wish her something like a 'Happy Birthday' or 'Happy New Year.'

Somi glances around to make sure no one is watching. Once she's certain both of you are alone, she takes your hand. “I know we are parting ways again after this. But can we catch up? I don’t want you to leave.”

“I think your manager is waiting, Somi. We can catch up next time. Promise?”

“But remember the promise you made with me last time?”

You're clueless. Her question was too vague. It's been years. "What promise?"

“May I come over, Oppa? You’ve seen my place. I never saw yours.”

Somi never slept with you, but it was obvious that she wanted to fuck at the hotel when you went overseas with her, which didn't went her way anyways since this was all business. “Does Chaeyoung talk about me to you, Somi? I’m sure she said something.”

“Oppa, just once. Please?” Somi’s begging for you straightforwardly, you can tell from her eyes that she’s been lonely for far too long. “Aren’t we close? How many years have we not seen each other? It’s been too long, Oppa.”

There’s also not a single lie that you can tell Somi was interested in you, not just sexually, but also romantically. When times change, it’s questionable when you and Somi parted ways.

“Ennik,” you say softly. “Somi.”

“Yes?” she smiles and lets go of your hand.

“Come home with me.”

She chuckles, “finally, you’re not playing hard for once.”

———

“Daddy?” Somi says cautiously out of the blue as you pull into the driveway.

“Is that like one of your kinks?” you chuckle.

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m not judging. I don’t mind it, Somi.” You turn the car off and close the garage door. “Let’s go inside.”

She's unusually quiet, waiting impatiently as you both exit the car and walk inside. There's no doubt that Somi won't let you off the hook the moment you step in. She's hungry. She's lonely. As you shut the door calmly, before you can even turn around, she gets on her knees with her hands in her lap, looking up at you desperately.

"Give it to me, Daddy," she softly pleads once you see her kneeling, slowly placing her hands on your pants and pulls down slowly.

“Somi,” you take a breath, "how much did you missed me?"

"So much." Somi leans closer, staring right at you from below and getting a whiff of your crotch.

"Then show me how much you missed me. Be a good girl."

Somi doesn't respond, but you can see it in her eyes that she wants to be proven worthy. And slowly, Somi bites onto the waistband of your boxers, then pulls it down with a wicked smirk, and you felt her nose dragging against your skin.

She’s not someone who you just met. You know that she's a horny one at heart. Somi didn't want to waste any time. Her breaths came shallow and quick, as if each breath were full of desperation. She gulps and stares at your cock the moment it flings out of your boxers. But before you give her a taste, what's the fun without a small tease? You already have her in a chokehold, and she wouldn’t want to escape it.

"Take off your shirt," you demand, caressing her cheeks. Somi didn't even hesitate and takes off her shirt, revealing a black bra as you stare at her cleavage. Her tit's are round and perfect, more than enough to where you would want your face in between.

“Good girl.” you say, smirking.

She leans closer again and only stares at you after a quick kiss on the tip of your cock. “I’ve been fantasizing about you. I thought about you late last night."

“I’ll make it come true, Somi.” You say, brushing her hair and getting a clear view of her beauty. Once her mouth opened, she wanted only one thing: to taste you. But knowing how desperate Somi is, you're not letting her. Not this easily. You pull her hair back and she gasp, staring up to meet your gaze.

Somi gulps, which was loud in this quiet house. “Daddy,” she whispers. You saw your own reflection in her eyes as she looks at you.

“Open your mouth,” you say, wanting to be in control. Quietly, she opens her mouth without hesitation and you slap your cock right on her cheeks, not once, but twice as she flinches and smiles, then Somi wickedly chuckles.

“I’m such a slut for you.”

“It should be that way,” you say, a deeper tone that made her heart to start fluttering. Your cock was right in front of Somi. She’s impatiently waiting like a good girl. “Keep your mouth open and your tongue out.”

Again, she listens to everything you demanded. Her eyes gleamed, begging you so desperately to the point she’ll do anything just for a small taste. And as you’re curious to how desperate she was, her salvia starts to drip off the tip of her tongue.

You slap your cock right on her tongue, then held her nape with no intentions on letting Somi have it her way. You’re planning to ruin her face. She deserves it. There’s no excuse if Somi’s been waiting for this day. And with a small thrust into her mouth, she chokes once you reached the back of her throat. You push harder, slowly every few seconds without pulling out your cock.

Somi's throat expands, and you could feel her trying to choke, when it’s only a weak one with your cock deep in her throat. She leans back, almost falling behind, and you intentionally did it to pin her against the wall. She closes her eyes shut, face trembling to how deep your cock was in. Well, you weren’t trying to make her pass out, but you did start to worry and gave Somi some room to breathe.

She takes a deep breath with your cock still in her mouth. Without a response, Somi grabs onto your hips, bobbing and tilting her head slowly. You couldn’t help but smirk at how much of a slut you made her. There was no sense of pride from Somi. She's going crazy for your cock.

“Good girl,” you groan, complimenting Somi. “Go ahead, have it. Take it.”

“Mhm,” she murmurs. Then there’s a long hum, the type of hum of tasting something delightful. You felt her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin as she grips harder and harder, cock disappearing in and out from her mouth. Saliva drips down from her chin and right onto her cleavage. You give a hard thrust and her head’s now against the wall, perfect as you smirk to what wicked intentions you have for her face—a hard face fucking.

Somi closes her eyes, letting a tear out by how hard you were thrusting into her mouth. It’s the tears of happiness that everyone gets after getting what they’ve been longing for. You decide to suddenly stop, still with your cock deep down in her throat. And with your thumb on her face, you wiped her tears, smudging her mascara in the process. She looked more of a slut at this point, and you aren’t complain of seeing Somi like this when her hair is sticking to the wall.

“Good girl,” you say, more softly with a deeper tone. “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” Praising her is a cheat code, she loves being complicated and praised at, especially if it’s from you. You’re well aware of how much you meant to her. It’s no secret.

And it’s clear that you’re using her mouth like a toy, she’s choking and gagging. You could care less while you chase this peace of mind from a singer’s mouth. Somi’s not stopping you, neither would you want to.

“Fuck,” you groan softly, taking a quick breath, and seeing how much of a mess her face was and pulls out. Saliva drips down to her tits after she spits more out to make a mess. You love it how she’s just a slut taking your cock like there’s no tomorrow. Her lips are coated in saliva as she worships your cock with her lips pressing right on it.

“Am I being a good girl, Daddy?” she mumbles, lips on the tip of your cock.

“You are. Maybe you should stop talking and show me that you’re even better than a good girl.” Somi’s face was all fucked, a whole hot mess. She’s even more beautiful like this.

“I want it all over my face, Daddy.”

“Should maybe get ready then.”

You grab onto her face, squeezing her cheeks with your fingers and palm right on her chin to make Somi look up at you. You were once her love interest. You were her protector. And now, she’s on her very knees, in a mess taking your aggression. Somi couldn’t say anything, she’s more mesmerized by your glare. You push your cock back into her mouth to make Somi gag and continue to choke all over your cock.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” you groan. Your cock was shoved deep down to the point it bulges out her throat. Her eyes are closed, tears slowly coming down her face. You felt saliva dripping all the way down to your balls. Her small mouth couldn’t take it, but she's not stopping you from using her like a toy.

Your cock begins to throb, violently more as you keep shoving your cock into her mouth. There’s a whole mess on her tits as it’s drying out layer by layer. Somi’s taking it like a slut that she is. It doesn’t matter how rough you were, Somi loves the way your cock throbs. After a deep gasp, and a moan, you pull out. Webs of saliva flows out her mouth and on your cock down to her chest.

She grabs onto your cock to start stroking it. Somi knew what to do. She wants to make you cum all over her face. Her hands squeezes your cock, stroking it faster and faster while looking up at you.

“Make me cum, Somi,” you uttered quickly. “I’ll cum on your pretty face.”

“Give it to me, Daddy,” she murmurs. Her mouths wide open, tongues out, eyes all closed.

You cum by her small hands squeezing and stroking your cock, releasing all the built up sexual tension for years, but all Somi can feel was how much cum there was on her face. With a bright smile, and a couple flinches from cum shooting onto her face, she finally got her fantasy to come true. It’s warm. It’s thick. Just what she’s been craving for.

Somi’s face is the definition of getting face fucked. Her hairs a mess, cum all over her lips, cheeks, and even up to her hair as she couldn’t open her eyes but smile. Then strands of cum stretch and drip down her chin to her tits.

“What a mess,” she utters after swallowing your cum, and the biggest smile you saw from her today. Somi scoops all the cum on her face and licks every single finger.

“You’re missing more, Somi,” you say, wanting her to lick your cock clean. She crawls on her knees to suck you off without a word. “There’s some on your hair too.”

“It’s fine,” she says after pulling off your cock with a loud pop. “You taste good.”

“Was I too aggressive?”

“Kind of. Tolerable thought. But why should I complain?” She then leans in again to give your cock a quick kiss. Her chest is pumping after being used as a toy.

“Water?” you say, wanting to give her some care.

“No,” she whispers shyly.

You grab your pants and gently hand Somi her shirt. She’s still on her knees with the shirt rolled up into a ball as she covers part of her chest. “It’s not a problem if you want get in my panties if you’re thinking about it right now.”

Well, you did give her a hard face fucking. It’s only right that you give Somi a time to rest. As you put on your pants, she’s just staring down at the floor, lost in thought.

“What are you thinking, Somi?”

“Are you gonna kick me out?” she says, looking up at you. There’s a pure moment of silence, you couldn’t believe what she just said. After face fucking her? Why kick her out?

“Do you want me to, Somi?” you smirk, teasing her when you aren’t planning on kicking her out.

“You want my pussy? I’ll give it to you right now for as long as you want. Please let me stay for a while, Oppa. Please, Daddy?”

You’re dumbfounded to why Somi thinks that you’ll kick her out. “Calm down, let’s go sit on the couch. I’m not telling you to leave.”

“Oh,” she embarrassingly says and puts on her shirt. After Somi stands up, she follows you to the couch and sits right beside you. Somi couldn't belive that she got naked and took your cock like a slut. Neither did she want to fully admit of being one.

“How was it since you changed agencies, Somi?”

“I really missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking that I might of made the wrong choice to leave you behind. And now you’re with Twice.”

“I’m just a bodyguard,” you chuckle.

“So what? You’re so comfortable to be around with. Isn’t it obvious?”

You shrug, “don’t know.”

“Oppa,” she takes a deep breath. “Was it also obvious that I was interested in you?”

“It was. Why are you bringing this up, Somi?”

“If I can’t buy your love, I’ll sell you my body. That’s the most I can do for you to want me in a way.”

You sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to word that, Somi. C’mon.”

She then sits closer to you and puts her head on your shoulders, “we never had a proper farewell to each other. I want to thank you for everything.”

“It’s..not like I’ll never take you in as a client again, Somi. If both our schedules are right, I don’t mind taking you.”

“Really, Oppa?”

“When’s your next concert? I’ll come with Chaeyoung.”

“Why come with her when you can be alongside me like we used to? Be backstage and we can eat at a restaurant after with my manager. I want to treat you for everything you’ve done with me.”

“Just text me, Somi. I’ll be there if your agency reaches out to me.”

“Mhm, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Do you plan on spending the night here?”

“I’m busy tomorrow morning, Oppa,” she sighs.

“I’ll take you home later, Somi.”

A/N: Lost motivation to write more, but hope this is enough. Half ass edit too.

[pablitogavii]

Well I have an idea in my mind Pablo and the rest of the team were talking in the locker room that making the woman reach orgasm was very difficult and required a lot of time So Pablo was worried that you were faking your orgasm because it only took ten minutes. So he started talking to the boy to find a solution, telling him to make sure she wasn't faking it I don't even know how this idea came into my mind

All real with you, mi amor

"And it took hours, tío! I was so exhausted by the end that I just fell asleep" Ferran talked rather loudly about his newest fling and Pablo listened secretly curious about the conversation.

"I know! Sometimes it takes them hours to cum, and we're done in minutes" Fermin added to it and Pablo thought about you instantly.

During your "sexy times" ;) it never took you too long to cum, and Pablo prided himself in making you cum multiple times in a duration of an hour.

"Can't she just fake it at that point like all women do?" Ferran added and now Gavi's hand turned around quicker than ever before..what did they mean all women fake it???

"De que hables?" Gavi said and both boys smirked at their rather shy friend for being so interested n the topic all of the sudden.

"About women faking orgasms because it takes a long time for them to cum.." Ferran said and Pablo felt uneasy thinking that you would fake anything with him but he couldn't help but wonder now.

"Why do you think they fake it if they cum fast?" Gavi said genuinely trying to understand but boys were taking it as a joke.

"Looks like Pablito is not only the beast on the cancha, but in the sheets too..lucky Y/n!" Ferran teased as did everyone else but Gavi kept thinking about their conversation..how would he know if you were really faking it with him?

"Do you really think women fake orgasms?" Gavi asked Marcos Alonso as an older guy and the man rubbed the boy's head telling him that it is common but not always the case and he shouldn't worry so much about it.

But Pablo was very worried now..he loved making you cum, and what if it's all fake? How horrible he would feel if that was true...

He came home exhausted from the intense cardio training and his girl waited for him excited to jump into his arms and cuddle for a few minutes.

It was obvious that he was not in a good mood, and you noticed like always asking if everything was alright at work.

"It's fine preciosa..I'm just thinking about something" he said vague and you wondered what it was that got your boy so concerned. You were worried that it was something you did that made him upset.

"Is it something about me, amor?" you asked innocent eyes looking at him and he couldn't stop staring at them..kept wondering if the way they glisten when you cum was just a source of his imagination.

"Yes, princesa.." was all he said not wanting to lie since you promised to always be truthful.

"Que? No me quires mas?" you say sadly knowing of course that's not the case, and Pablo was quick to kiss you in reassurance.

"Te quiero con toda mi alma, te lo juro princesa..only.." he said and you turned around on his lap so you could face him. Your hand moved his hair so you can look each other in the eye.

"Que te pasa? Dime?" you say still caressing his face when he took both of your hands in his veiny ones and kissed them.

"I want to know if you ever faked an orgasm with me?" he was direct because he wanted a direct answer but you as always got very shy talking about this, so you blushed bright red.

"Don't tease me Pablito! You know I get shy.." you answer hiding your face in the crook of his neck not really knowing how to talk about this.

"Look at me muñeca..estoy hablando enserio" he said holding your hot face in his hands and you were once again looking at him.

"Did you ever fake an orgasm with me?" he repeated his question and now you knew he was serious about this.

"Where did you get this idea from amor?" you ask and he felt like you are avoiding a question when you were just confused why all of the sudden he would assume something like this?

"Guys said women often fake it because it takes them long time to cum..and you always cum in ten minutes with me, so it makes sense." he was mumbling his thoughts until you shut him up with a kiss and he leaned into your touch.

"Pablo..ven conmigo" you say taking his hand and you two walked into your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed and pulled him to do so as well.

"I want you to hear me say this.." you say moving closer and snaking your arms around his broad strong shoulder.

"It's all real with you amor..te lo prometo" you whisper the last part and Pablo smiled big moving your legs so that you were straddling his lap now as he started kissing you hungrily.

"Really?" he asked hopefully and you nodded with your forehead against his as he started to kiss don your neck to your shoulder blades and you were already a moaning mess.

"Why do girls fake?" he said still kissing you and driving you crazy.

"Because they haven't found a man able to satisfy them properly mi amor..f..fuck right there" you moan and he lays you back slowly sucking the marks into your skin.

"Hmmm then I guess you're lucky preciosa..because I live to satisfy my perfect girl..you taste so sweet" he kissed down your stomach and you opened your legs out of instinct as he pulled down your panties.

"Hmm how loud you get when I make you cum, it's impossible to fake that preciosa.." he was talking with his face between your thighs which only intensified the feeling of ecstasy right now.

"U..ugh..you know my body so well P..pablito" you moan and he smirks nodding his head and pulling your thighs even closer to his face.

"It's MY body preciosa.." he said and that was enough to have you over the edge with your thighs shaking from the intense orgasm you just had.

"Oh yeah definitely real, perfecta mia.." he said licking your juices clean before kissing your lips and making you taste yourself which only turned you on more.

"M..mas Pablito.." you begged and he smirked nodding his head and pulling the rest of your clothes off..let's just say you spent the whole night proving to him that it was all real just for him ;))

[mariahcarreyyy]

Hi!!! I absolutely adore your writing!!! Could I please request prompt number 8 from the angst dialogue list for Charles Leclerc? Thank you!!!

# prompt no.8, "what do you want from me? to throw away all i've worked for?" // "all i'm asking for is your time."

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

Change was something you did not lightly graze over or dismiss with a nonchalant wave of your hand. It slowly seeped inside the cracks of your monaco apartment walls, finding solace in your discomfort. But once even a portion of it was there, there was no denying its presence.

Not when the dent of Charles' curves is no longer easy to trace; yours was everpresent, wallowing and growing familiar with the ache in your bones every time you'd wake up to an cold, empty bed.

Not when, despite being allocated time off from work, Charles had let his job consume him. Nipping at his heart and head, wrapped in a frantic worry of not living up to his potential. Lately, it was as if it held greater priority than the peace you'd once been able to bring him.

He's slouched on his chair, fingers tightly wrapped around the wheel of the simulator; his movements are jerky yet cautious, risky, yet he is all but willing. Standing at the burgundy doorframe, you felt like you'd regressed to the age of a toddler—thrashing in your father's hold, begging for an ounce of attention, of care.

"Charles?"

The word drifts away, following the breeze of the opened window, swirling in the starry night sky. He does not answer. That's fine, nothing new. Your lips part to the shape of his name again, timid and picking dutifully at your fingertips. An exhasperated huff escapes his mouth, latching on to the side of his headphones and not-so-lightly placing them on the table.

With gritted teeth and a slight crane to his neck, barely allowing you to enter his peripheral vision, he mutters, "Yes, y/n?"

"Dinner's ready," you house your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting patiently for the dismissive 'not hungry right now' that would roll off his tongue in mere moments.

And Charles does not fail you or your expectations. He motions a hand to his simulator, sending you a pitiful excuse of a sorry smile that makes your palms furl into fists.

"Charles, I said—"

"I know what you said, mon amour," he sighs, and the pet name feels foreign on his tongue and bitter to your ears. "'Can't leave the sim."

Any shame you have left dwindles next to your bruised ego and non-existent dignity.

"One dinner, Charles, 'won't even take twenty minutes out of your day." Your voice is small, directed towards the back of his head, satisfaction pricking at your heart when his hands freeze, sending him crashing through the virtual track.

Desperate, do you even care anymore?

Abruptly, he stands up, arms extended on the table, to steady himself. The shift in atmosphere made you gnaw at your lip harder, and the metallic crimson made you wince. Your feet are glued to the floor.

Charles turns, standing up right to face you. He looks normal, you realize. You've been trying to figure out how to breathewithout him near you, and he looks normal.

"What do you want from me? To throw away all I've worked for?" He raises a predatory brow, malice dripping from his tongue. "Eat, y/n. I'll probably order something later, but I'm not wasting my time with—with."

He makes a vague gesture with his hand.

With you, is left unspoken.

"All I'm asking for is your time." You meet his hard stare and refrain from cowering at the sight. "But it's obvious you don't give a fuck to at least give me that."

You don't run, but you'd never walked so frantically out of a room before. A small part of you is waiting for Charles to scurry behind you, shouting a 'wait! wait, y/n!'. Which would probably not grant him immediate forgiveness but perhaps warm the shivers coursing through your body.

He doesn't.

[charliemwrites]

Soooo a while ago I introduced a “rabid reader.” A reader character with a (non-sexual) body count and a nasty temper.

Anyway, I started thinking about her - and the discord does what it does - and realized that Pathetic Stalker Konig would be a great pairing for her.

So, CW for light stalking, violence, and slightly mean reader

You have a stalker.

He’s… not a very good one.

For one, you know he’s there. Have known since pretty much the beginning. He’s a big fucking Austrian that covers himself head to toe. Not even in subtle colors, but in primarily black. Maybe at night he’d stand a chance, but he follows you in broad daylight too. So, there’s that.

Then there’s the fact that you’re not really bothered by him. What’s there to be bothered by? He keeps his distance, doesn’t interfere with your life. Even when he finally does work up the courage to enter your home, he puts things back where he found them. So, again, not a big deal.

You keep waiting for the escalation. For gifts or letters or some obvious sign of his presence that even the most oblivious person couldn’t ignore. But none comes. Partially, you figure, because you’ve shown no interest in anyone. You have friends, yes, but those are so obviously platonic that even your stalker doesn’t seem jealous. And the few times someone else has made a pass at you, a quick and merciless shutdown follows. Your lack of romantic intentions for anyone seems to be coming him semi-level.

You wonder if this is how religious people feel, that vague sense of being watched. Though you don’t think your stalker is judging you. Be a hell of a thing if he did.

Then one day, things change.

You have this new coworker, Brandon.

Your other coworkers already seem to like him. They say he’s funny and charming and handsome, that he’s such a great fit for the team. You have no particular opinion because most people just aren’t interesting to you, and Brandon is Most People incarnate.

But Brandon seems to have an interest in you. Which, really, is such a poor choice.

He keeps ending up in the break room at the same time as you. Or passing by your desk for a quick question, only to try to lengthen the conversation with the casual chat. Makes a point of saying hello to you in the mornings and walking down with you in the afternoon.

You’re not annoyed yet, not really. It’s a change in your routine, but you’ve been told those are good, so fine. He’s about as bearable as anyone else (besides the rare few you call friend) so you don’t think anything of it. Even when your coworker giggles that he was asking after your romantic life, you tolerate him.

A few months later is the annual office party, a celebration of… something. It seems different every time. Record profits, company anniversary, CEO’s birthday… it doesn’t matter, really. Free food, socialization. It’s something to do.

You go, of course. As ambivalent as you are towards the majority of your coworkers, they do seem to quite like you, and insist that you come.

So you go. You plaster on that mild, practiced smile while they chat and joke, contributing readily when prompted. At the end of the meal, you’re wheedled into going out for more casual celebration. Again, you agree.

Brandon comes along.

And somewhere, throughout the night, Brandon thinks it’s okay to start touching you. An accidental brush here and there is fine, unavoidable really. You’re not opposed to touch as a rule.

But then the occasional bumps and grazes become more frequent, consistent. Purposeful. A hand on your arm, then your shoulder, then your back. When you step away, he somehow ends up right back by your side. So you resort to telling him not to touch you so casually. He scoffs, already past a healthy buzz, and dismisses you as being “uptight” because you’re still treating it as a “work thing.” That you just need some more drinks in you and everything will be fine.

You can feel it bubbling up in you, that inky rage. Maybe something flickers across your face because your coworkers are quick to divert his attention. Smart.

But twenty minutes later you’ve had your fill of socializing. The bar is too loud, people are getting too drunk, and you don’t like the looks you’re getting from more than just Brandon.

You say your goodbyes while he’s in the restroom and leave.

You’ve only just made it to your car when you hear quick footsteps, turn just in time for Brandon to catch up. It’s all just noise to you now, his tense laughter that you left at the worst time, that you’re mean for not waiting. That he wants to walk you to your car like always.

He tries to curl an arm around your waist. It takes restraint you don’t usually employ not to break it. To just step away and repeat (fuck you hate repeating yourself) that you don’t want to be touched.

And then he makes the fatal mistake of just not fucking listening. Of insisting. Of doing what he wants anyway.

So you break his hand. And while he’s still screaming in pain, you notice the shadowy flicker of your stalker ducking out of view.

It’ll stay your secret, you figure, and go home. Expect that to be the end of it.

Until you hear glass break when you’re just about to go to bed. You step out of your room, shoes on and knife in hand, to a fuck-off sized Austrian strangling Brandon. Oh, and stabbing him with a large piece of the lamp someone seems to have broken.

There’s water all over the floor because it started raining an hour ago. It’s mixing with the blood, diluting it pink on your floor. You retrieve a towel from the kitchen to mop it up before it reaches the rug.

All at once, things go quiet. Your stalker is kneeling over a still, dead-eyed Brandon, breathing hard. But his eyes keep flicking to you and then away, shoulders slumped and head ducked.

“You’ve made a mess. Clean up.”

Your stalker jumps into action. Seems to already know where all the housekeeping supplies are. In the meantime, you go digging through your closet for clothes. Can’t find any, so you settle for getting the washer and dryer ready. Order yourself a new lamp online.

By the time you’re done, the body is gone, the floors are clean and dry, and your stalker is fidgeting in the living room.

“Strip.”

He startles. Stares. You arch your eyebrows. Wait him out. But then he does as he’s told. Peeling off cold, wet layers with mechanical precision, until he’s got a damp pile at his bare feet. You give his mask an unimpressed look. That comes off too with an audible gulp.

You don’t really get attractiveness, as a physical quality. You understand proportions and features, and recognize that this man has some pleasing, if atypical, ones. Even with the scar.

“Good.” He shivers. “Now shower.”

He nods, ducks past you to the bathroom - again without having to be told where to find it. You gather up the clothes and toss them in the machine with a little extra detergent.

Walk into the bathroom and ignore the way he tries to cover himself, flushing tomato red from head to toe.

“Your name.”

“Konig.”

You narrow your eyes, but don’t press.

“Are you military?”

He’s built like it. Thick with useful strength, not aesthetic muscle. And he’s scarred all over. Some new, some old, all earned through violence and suffering.

“Military contractor,” he says. Then, quieter, “please don’t stare.”

Your eyes snap up to his. He can’t even hold it for longer than a second before dropping his gaze. You cross your arms.

“You’ve been watching me for 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days. Put your fucking hands down.”

He twitches, but drops his hands to his sides. His cock - and it is, you acknowledge, very impressive - is filling out slowly but steadily. You consider it for a moment while he fidgets beneath the steaming spray.

“If you fuck me, will you be satisfied?” you ask.

Like touching, you’re not against fucking by default. It’s just one of those things you don’t think about often because you’re not especially interesting in most cases.

This - Konig - is not most cases.

But konig’s eyes dart up guiltily before he shakes his head. Surprised, you tilt your head.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods so hard the back of his skull bumps into the shower head.

You hum. Stand there and watch him while he awkwardly shuffles until the washer buzzes.

“Finish showering, get your clothes from the dryer, then sleep on the couch,” you say. He swallows again and nods. “You can get blankets if you’re cold. Be here in the morning.”

With that, you turn to switch his clothes over. Then head off to bed, wondering if you’ll see him come sunrise.

Next

Masterlist

[munivrse]

hc for what Bada would be like when she’s pursuing you? Extra points if the reader is a lil oblivious and Bada’s just like ‘this girl is mine she doesn’t even know it lololol’

this is so cute thank u for this idea 🫂🫶🏼

bada is so in love with you and IS SO OBVIOUS ABOUT IT

it starts out really sweet and bada is just softer with you than she is to others.

you took one of her classes, loved the way she taught and her dance style, so you naturally began to attend more.

you really wanted to improve on your own dancing so you were taking her classes to learn more.

slowly bada started to notice you becoming more of a regular

when you walked in the doors to her class, she'd send you a small wave

eventually she asks for your name, you squeak it out, and she falls in love immediately

she just thinks you're so cute she wants to shrink you and put you in her pocket

with each class she begins moving you closer to the front

if she notices you struggling with a move, she'll personally run through it with you and you alone.

"bada, why do you give me private lessons?"

and bada is EMBARRASSED LMFAO so she just says

"i think you have a lot of potential as a dancer"

internally facepalms but whatever.

you hang out outside of classes now, and she pays for everything

and then she starts buying things that remind her of you

accessories, clothes, shoes, little knicknacks

she spoils you so bad

when you guys go out, she's got her hand in yours, swinging your arms as you walk.

and now you guys are showing up to her classes together...

and now her students are badgering her about who you are

she gives a vague answer and keeps it pushing

you, none the wiser, just think she's being nice

do you think shes talented, fine, tall, and overall the full package?

yes

yes you do

BUT theres no way she's into you

that is until... uh she's dancing to takeout.

and right before she hits the floor-

she takes two fingers and points at you in a "come here" motion.

takes her fist, hits her hips with it twice, takes one last glance at you and starts basically fucking the floor

and you're like damn😳 maybe she does want me

after that class she makes you stay with her while she packs everything up.

you're just dying to ask her if she was pointing at you before she... she did what she did to that floor.

"yeah i was. why?"

DAMN U SAID THAT SHIT OUTLOUD LMFAOOOO

"i- why would-" *clears throat* "why were you pointing at me?"

bada just laughs, taking off her hat and putting it on your head.

"i'll see you tomorrow."

and then she just leaves you alone to process your thoughts.

and you do

you think for hours

and shit just starts to make sense

why she insisted on paying for everything. the way she kissed your hand whenever you guys were holding them. the way she'd stand behind you, hands on your hips while the guys from her classes would try to talk you up

it also made sense why during sleepovers she insisted you sleep in the same bed, bada's limbs entangled in your own. why she would wake you up with gentle kisses and make you breakfast in the morning

and you are just DUMBFOUNDED 😭😭 YALL BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME

so you call her that very night and the first thing out of your mouth is-

"ARE YOU MY GIRLFRIEND???" and bada is just losing her shit on the other side

just cackling at you

"y/n... baby. yes. yes i am your girlfriend. we are girlfriends. we've been girlfriends for a little while now."

you're having a crisis and she just

"i'll come over there and we can talk about it. is that okay with you?"

"... yeah."

"good. i'll see you in 10. love you."

"love you too. WAIT-"

[adascore]

Captain Obvious

pairings: lionesses x lioness!reader

warnings: sarina scaring the hell out of us. fluff.

author’s note: I know this isn’t how captaincy is announced, but all of this is fictional anyway so it doesn’t even matter :)

masterlist

•••••

''Is everyone in?'' Sarina asked, scanning the room to ensure the complete attendance of the squad and necessary staff.

A few heads nodded at the manager. ''Good.'' The Dutchwoman concluded.

''Before we talk about the upcoming game against North Macedonia, I would like to say something else.'' Sarina began the team meeting, her gaze lingering on Y/N.

The player curiously turned her head to Mary, who was sitting next to her. The goalkeeper merely shrugged in response.

''I didn't want to do it like this, but I think this is the only way to get my message across… Y/N, can you please come stand next to me?'' Sarina's invitation sounded more like a demand, leaving the striker slightly confused at the stern tone.

Y/N hesitated for a moment but stood up, making her way to the front of the room as requested by Sarina.

Glancing at her teammates, she found it challenging to read their expressions. Some were nervously biting their nails, while others were avoiding eye contact altogether.

Strange, the striker thought.

Sarina maintained her serious tone, making Y/N's heart race with anticipation. ''We have noticed some issues lately…'' The room fell silent, everyone's eyes fixed on the player, who was growing more bewildered and scared by the second. She tried to recall any recent incidents that might have triggered this discussion.

''The communication on the pitch, the communication off the pitch, the passes, the attacks… it is all anyone has been talking about on this team.'' The coach's vague explanation was making her worried, because it implied people had been speaking about her to Sarina.

''It forced us to reassess your position in this team.'' The Dutchwoman continued, maintaining her stoic stone.

It was a difficult task to make the Lyon captain nervous, but Sarina was doing an amazing job so far. ''My… position… on the team?'' Y/N spoke slowly, not quite knowing what to make of all of this.

''Yes, we're sorry to tell you this,'' she turned towards Arjan, their assistant coach, who handed her something the player wasn't able to see, ''but you are our new, official captain.'' Sarina's expression did a complete 180, a big grin on her face.

The room erupted into cheers, her teammates bursting out laughing at the player staring at their coach in stunned disbelief.

''Wait, what?'' Y/N mumbled as Sarina handed her the captain's band.

''Did you really think I was going to kick you off the team?'' The older woman exclaimed, surprised her player actually fell for it.

Y/N awkwardly chuckled. ''I mean- you sounded super serious! You should become an actress or something.''

''Congratulations, captain!'' Her team engulfed her in a group hug, feeling pats all over her head.

''I was wondering why none of you were looking at me.'' The newly appointed captain said, everything making sense now.

''I was having such a hard time,'' Ella sighed, before glancing over at Mary, ''you were awful!''

''What? Tooney!'' The goalkeeper exclaimed, clearly offended.

Alessia chimed in. ''You kept hiding your face cause you couldn't contain your smile.''

''I'm just happy for my friend!'' Mary defended herself, trapping Y/N in her arms.

Some of the girls made ‘Awh'-noises, dramatically swooning over the striker-goalkeeper duo.

''Took you long enough to figure it out.'' Mary teased, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Y/N scoffed, slightly offended. ''How was I supposed to know?''

''I'm roomies with the captain.'' Alex proudly stated, her eyes sparkled with pride as she side hugged her roommate.

''That's not fair! Alex already has an advantage over everyone!'' Georgia interjected, loudly.

Y/N frowned. ''I've been captain for like 2 seconds, what are you talking about, G?'' She chuckled, befuddled by everyone's enthusiasm.

''You'll understand what I mean when she's suddenly being a lot nicer to you.'' Georgia explained, making wary eyes at the blond defender.

Lucy approached her and grabbed the captain's band from her hand. ''Come on, put it on.'' She held it open for her so Y/N could easily slide her arm through.

As soon as it was tightly attached to her arm, the entire room broke into cheers again.

''You wear it well, Skipper.'' Lucy teased with a playful grin.

She felt someone hugging her from behind. ''Congratulations, darling.''

''Thanks, Jill.'' The new captain smiled, glad her older teammate was happy for her.

Girls like Jill, Ellen, Alex, Lucy and Jordan had been there since she first joined the England team- it was a special moment for them as well to see their younger teammate take over the reins of the team.

''Congrats, sweetheart. You deserve this so much.'' Ellen embraced her, her fellow striker grinning from ear to ear.

''Thanks, El.''

''Speech! Speech! Speech!'' A couple of the girls (Ella, Georgia, Keira and Leah, to be specific) started chanting.

Y/N chuckled at the impromptu request for a speech, feeling the weight of the moment. She raised her hands, signaling for a moment of quiet amidst the cheers.

''Okay, okay!'' She began, a genuine smile on her lips. ''First of all, I want to thank Sarina, and whoever decided this, for giving me this huge honour, and for trusting me to lead this incredible team. I know to some people it's just a band, but I do feel a responsibility to lead by example and for me this means so much more.''

She paused, letting her words sink in. ''I joined this team when I was 18 years-old, and I've experienced so much already. I just want to thank all of you, and also the teammates that aren't here today, for making this such a beautiful group of people and for making this genuinely fun to do. I'm lucky to have you guys as my teammates.''

Her gaze swept across the faces of her teammates, feeling herself getting emotional. ''I will continue to do my best. This isn't just about me, it's about all of us. We're here to support one another and to enjoy all of this together.''

''I'm looking forward to the rest of the year, and it might be to early to say this, but fuck it,'' she chuckled, resulting in laughter from the entire room, ''this summer is ours!''

The meeting room echoed with applause, and somehow she ended up in the middle of a group hug.

Sarina and Arjan watched on as their team celebrated together, content smiled on their faces.

''This is the team.'' He told his boss, a confident tone.

The Dutchwoman nodded. ''This is the team.''

[yuzuki-ero]

Increased circulation

Gyomei x y/n (AFAB)

MDNI – Minor do not interact

Word count: 1300+

" " is dialogue

' ' is thoughts

Warning: involuntary erection, nudity, vaginal intercourse, internal ejaculation, size kink, embarrassing moments ,hook up

Ahem ahem pls be kind to me this is my first smut Did you know onsen weren't separated by gender in old jp?

"Ding dong ding dong"

The sound of the bell

The signal that the end of today has come

"Hhphew..." you nearly lay your tired body on the training grounds

After a long day of training, you decided to treat yourself to an onsen

You missed the group onsen yesterday because you were on your last day of periods

"Hm..."

You couldn't resist humming as you submerge yourself in the water, it's one of the most comfortable feelings in the world, along with the texture of freshly made mochi in your mouth

Your journey to dreamland were interrupted as you noticed the toned foot by the corner of your eye

a deep calm voice replied

"Hello"

"... ... ..!!!" it took you a while to recognize that voice

You sit up straight and bashfully make space for his size

"Ah... thank you"

You swear the pool level raised a little when he sits in it

"Ah, hm..."

- An uncomfortable moment of silence -

Your mind were racing a mile per minute

Nervous, due to your limited experience as a demon slayer

Frail, Weak, Ordinary and way too unskilled to find topics to talk about

Yet, you do want to become stronger

"Eh... Gyomei-sama?"

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me how do I get stronger?"

His stoic face breaks into a warm smile

"Sure thing, but why do you ask me? Aren't you under some Cultivator for your breathing style?"

"Because.... I want to look like you, I want to have the muscles that you have"

he could vaguely feel the shape of you from the ripples that reflects on the surface of the water from even your most subtle movements

"Hm... do you really want that? You're cute as you are, I think- "

"I think your body is reflective of your strength Gyomei-sama! I wish I could get stronger, like you do!"

And poor him, it's getting more vivid as you crawl closer to inspect and admire his features. You nearly touched his skin.

...............................................

'Is that supposed to be standing up?'

"Oh" you exhaled shakily softly when you noticed it and turned your face the other way

'It could be normal...' you thought as you draw circles in the water to calm your racing heart

You can tell without looking that Gyomei is bashfully crossing his legs to try to hide it somehow

'It's so big... maybe it's a sign of strength- BAHHH! what am I thinking! Stop right now!'

*splash splash*

You tried to hit any sort of sense back into yourself, with the onsen water, slapping your face, anything

'I bet I would choke on it- STOP! STOP IT'

"Uh- don't- don't drown yourself in the onsen, please..."

*gurgle bubbling noises*

He clap his hands together and chant "Name Amida Butsu..." as tears flows freely from his sightless eyes

…..

You eventually calmed down and sit beside him quietly

At a comfortable distance

But his- um

His erection is not coming down

“So… Is this like… uhhhhh…..”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to offend you”

“Is this part of the result of your training”

“What???”

“No? Oh… ok”

………...

You can’t help the way your eyes linger

It’s throbbing, it’s veiny, it’s moving to the currents created by the waterfall in this onsen

Your head was turned to the side but your pupils are glue to that trunk

You hoped it wasn’t too obvious- Himejima-sama is quite a gentle person, after all, from the way he speak so softly to everyone

But he can feel it, he was ‘staring’ at you too

“Himejima-sama…

Can I help you with that?”

His entire face was heated up with a fever blush down to his neck

“You’re so forward…!”

“Is that a yes or no, Gyomei-sama…”

*gulp*

“Yes” He nods

You scooted to sit closer to him, touching his skin, and hold his face

“May I…?”

He doesn’t reply, only squeezely shut his eyes tight, and lean in to start kissing you

His tongue lightly dabs on your bottom lip, and grazing your teeth

Which is met by your own tongue, receiving his techniques and ministrations

As your kiss stays connected, he lifted you by the hips, under the thighs, to straddle him

“Are you ready?”

“Ready? Ready for- oh… ready for that”

He bit his lip slightly it as it touches the inner your two thighs

“yes” He whimpered out desperately

He gasped as you grabbed his cock and instinctively get a hold of your hips

*gulp*

“Ah…” His mouth wobbles as you start to take him in, slowy

He feels so much but it was so good, he’s gritting his teeth and popping veins on his forehead and neck trying to hold back from setting his own pace

He’s even tearing up a little waiting for you

“Tight…” He hissed out under his breath

He lets out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you finally managed to let him sink into you as deep as you can

Your gasps and warmth eatting away at his restraint

He gently moved strands of hair out of your forehead, and held you close as you ground yourself for his size, caressing your arms and your sides, thoughtfully

“Ah…!” winds knocked out of his lungs when you started.

He tried his best to withstand it, his fists clench and release on to the decoration stone he was leaning on for support

It felt so good he wanted to thrust back with his own fervor

But Gyomei don’t want to hurt you, so he just sighs and blow air out of his mouth frequently in his best attempt to let you set the pace, but he hyperventilates so much people might think he’s about to pass out.

He bit his lips, pinch his thighs, flex his abs, anything to make sure he doesn’t start making decisions subconciusly

“Oh…Ah…” He almost congratulates his prayers that you finally starts to move faster

The water starts to spill out of the onsen from the impact you both were making

He grabbed your hips and move it to the pace you’ve set

It felt almost unreal-

Your hips in both of his hands- and that his member disappears in and out of you

Just fast enough to make his dick feel the tingles and goosebumps

“Can we go faster? Please…y/n?” He sniffled out, tears almost fall from the corner of his eyes

He’s so cute! You just want to give everything to this man

You put your hand over his, and say:

“Yes, please guide me”

Feeling your arms draped over his shoulders, he sits up and starts to bounce you off his hips

The water splashed out of the pool so much it’s flooding the surrounding floor

But he has stopped caring about that

Your skins met and clapped together the walls and doors counldn’t hide what you two were doing anymore

Not to mention the both of your faint moans that follows, in sync with each slap

Gyomei was salivating and losing his composure, with his half-lidded eyes and arch in his torso

“Ngh…gah-ah…” That was a raspy grunt of effort, and groan of pleasure,

But his speed is not faltering

In fact, it feels like it’s sped up 3 times more

“Y/n are- are you close too? I don’t think I can hold on much longer” 

He’s biting his lower lips, eyes wide, blushing and sweating all over his face

Goddamn

that’s the sexiest face you’ve ever seen

He starts to jack-hammering as soon as you nod- bulging his arms and wheezing through his teeth

You start to pant and gasps as he nails that G-spot inside you over and over while grazing all the other spots just from his girth alone

It took a few more strokes, before you finally-

“Ah…!”

You feel your pelvic floor tensing and squeezing on him hard in waves of tensing and relaxing

Then it was not long before you feel a surge of fluids busted and filled you on the inside

He pulled you to kiss softly before letting you rest on his body

As you ponder how your relationship with the stone hashira have changed

[glaciertea]

It's Our Paradise, and It's Our War Zone

Another Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

I wrote this as a very small collection of one-shots from my longfic (you don't need to read that to read this). I made some minor changes, but it's nothing too crazy. Also, if the Spanish is off, let me know~

Word count: 3.5K

Content Warning: 18+, Pwp, PinV, bondage, overstimulation, toy usage, he uses his webs (not just for tying things up), blindfold, cunnilingus, bad jokes :]

Summary: Miguel helps you out with a daydream you've been having for awhile.

For the past few days, you've been self-motivating yourself to finally tell Miguel about a fantasy that's been lingering on your mind from the moment you realized you held that attraction to him. Specifically, sexual attraction.

You wanted to dangle from his webs, completely exposed and restrained, bounded by trust and that gripping lust.

You would stand in front of the mirror, reciting how you would blurt it out or ease it into a conversation; however, when the time seemed permitted, you would chicken out the last second, pretending as if it was some other ‘important’ thing, such as ‘pancakes, waffles, or French toast?’ Or, ‘did you watch that one show as a kid?’

So far, the mission has been an obvious failure. But that wasn't going to deter you from it. Far from it. Tonight was the night you would finally megaphone your burning desires and sensations to him once and for all.

When he arrived (through the window, because he doesn't believe in the key or door), things went as normal. You made some homemade burgers and pre-cooked fries, watched random episodes from some show, and played a few rounds of your karting game. 

There was some chit-chatting in between, but the main topic refused to show itself on stage. Your palms were sweaty as you wiped them on your shorts for the umpteenth time in a row. You battled with how exactly you were going to say this; all that practicing you did began to clash, and it wasn't helping you one bit. You were scattered.

“Alright. Tell me what's on your mind before you blow a nerve over there, amor.”

You yelped at the sudden confrontation before nervously laughing louder than you expected. "Oh, it's nothing, Miggy. I'm just thinking about some funny jokes in my head.”

Miguel raised a brow. You weren't very vague; there was more to it, and he knew it, but he wanted to see if you could get it out with just a bit of a push from him.

“Okay then. Tell me a joke.”

“Wh-what?” You blinked, a bit stupefied.

“Tell me a joke. I want a good one. So go ahead and make me laugh.” His body was facing you fully. 

You were thrown into an unwarranted spotlight. All eyes were on you. You hated that you got yourself into this.

“A… a joke.” You gulped loudly.

“Si. Give me a joke.” Miguel's authoritative tone seeped out, and it wasn't helping you at all. 

A joke? That's a difficult thing to serve, especially when one is put on the spot, unless you're a professional. Witty one-liners and puns are easier, but having to come up with the starter, the execution, and the punchline is a whole process in itself.

You thought about stalling and beating around the bush.

“No stalling either.” 

At this point, you believed he was a mind-reader. There was no other explanation for it.

He was intently staring into your soul with those mesmerizing eyes, as you did your best to look at everything else besides him. 

“Right. So, here's my joke. It's coming up right now, right this seco-”

“You're stalling. Joke. Now.” 

You felt yourself straining in more ways than one.

“Okay, uh, let's see… How do you catch a squirrel? Climb a tree and act like a nut.” You drummed the air, tittering, before tightening your lips together.

The air was cumbersome, and Miguel's dead gaze wasn't helping.

“That was bad. Muy mal.”

“Hey! I don't think it was that bad. You asked for a joke, and I gave one.”

“Yes, but a joke that makes me laugh.” He leaned in, entrapping your body. “That didn't even get a chuckle, corazón.”

You squirmed on the sofa, his husky breath traveling through your veins. How you disliked, but loved the easy affects he had on you.

“So tell me, what's really running through there?” He skimmed his knuckle from your forehead to your chin, your breathing picking up.

He wanted you to speak your mind. He often reminds you not to be scared to do it, especially around him. He loves listening to your thoughts and observations. And one thing he also adores hearing is your wants and needs. He's always ready to care for and respect them.

“I-I…”

“Go on. What's going on in that brain? I know for a fact that it isn't just jokes.”

He had you cornered. Figuratively and literally. That stare wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you. He could do this all night if he really strived for it. He is a strong-willed man after all.

“Fine! Back when we were first getting to know each other and all, we knew each other, but we didn't have that ground of–”

“You're stalling!” He snarled out, pressing his body into yours. “To the point. Now!”

Your eyes widened at that domineering voice. You didn't even realize he could get that booming and demanding. He started to tense up when he recognized that change.

“I'm so sorry, mi corazón. I didn't mean to sound like that. I usually don't use that voice unless others refuse to listen. Wa-wait! I'm not saying you're not listening; I mean–”

“I had this fantasy of being fully tied up in your webs. A sense of trust and longing to be there.” You bumped your forehead into his, that burning passion glazing over.

Miguel's breathing became rapid. Was this what you really wanted? Or was it something that you would believe he would want? He couldn't lie that he also didn't have those lingering around his brain, but would you truly be okay with it?

“I- are you sure you want something like that?”

“Yes, this is what I want to try. This is something I want.” You were determined to do this, praying that he would accept your fiery cravings.

“Corazón, will you allow me to–”

“Yes, I will allow you to take control. To tie me in your webs.” You placed your wrists together, expressing that vulnerability. “Please, Miguel.”

Miguel nodded, knowing that no more words needed to be said. Everything was now on the table. He lowered his head until his lips were on yours. Folding your legs around his waist and your arms over his neck, Miguel picked you up, placing your body on a nearby wall.

“Mi hermosa amor, te adoraré ahora y siempre. Siempre me preguntaré cómo te conseguí.” Miguel whispered against your neck, causing you to moan and writhe. 

He nibbled the crook of your neck and collarbone, his tongue gliding over the delicate skin. His hands dragged down your shirt, lifting it over your head. 

He brushed his claws over your hardened nipples, tweaking them before bending forward and nibbling the nubs hungrily. You blissfully sighed out, when a sudden memory popped up in Miguel's head.

“That vibrator… It's in your left bottom drawer by your bed, right?”

You froze. “You… I… How did you know about that?!” You honestly assumed you swept that in the corner, hidden away from the naked eye.

“I found it when you told me to bring that bottle of lube.” He flicked his tongue over your cleavage, leaving hickies on your chest and the valley.

“How—but you had to really peek to have—”

“You were the one who told me to put it there, baby.” His claws made their way to your shorts and tugged them down, caressing your thighs. “It rolled out when I pulled the drawer out.”

You were flustered, stuttering, when Miguel planted a kiss to quiet you down. “Do you want me to get it? I will only do it if you want me to.”

It took you exactly one second before wholeheartedly agreeing. You wanted to know how far this fantasy of yours would go, and you were excited that there was an unexpected but welcome addition.

You slid out one of your dining room chairs and sat down. Miguel held that confidence in his walk, and you knew it. Strolling back out with your purple and white magic wand and the bottle, you gave a thumbs-up.

Retaking your earlier positions, he sat the items in the chair, pressing your body back into the wall, two fingers making their way in your panties, rubbing the folds, proud of how wet you were.

“Mm, I–ah–want to be gagged and blindfolded.”

“You really want to be tethered up, don't you?” His thumb rolled over your clit as he stared for any signs of displeasure.

“I have an eye mask in the same drawer, and the fantasy includes your webs in between my teeth.” 

Miguel made no hesitation; he was back with it in a blink of an eye. You could tell how roused he was by the throbbing bulge in his pajama pants, as you swore you could see some damp stains. 

“If I do this, you'll need to have a way to alert me if you start feeling uncomfortable. Safewords won't exactly work.”

You closed one eye, thinking for a few seconds, when you snapped your fingers. Propping your hands over your head, you gave a thumbs-up. 

“Thumbs-up means you can go; bunny ears mean slow down; and when I snap, stop.” You demonstrated each motion as Miguel nodded.

“Vale, vale, bien.” He brushed the side of your face and smiled. “You ready?”

You nodded, arms still above your head. He picked you up with ease as you examined him shooting his webs at the wall and the ceiling. Carefully sticking you to the netting, he bound you in a dragonfly shibari tie, thoroughly taking his time. 

“How many times have you done this?” You eyeballed his work as much as possible.

“A few.” He pressed a kiss on your stomach. “But that's all I'm going to say.”

You hummed out at the intriguing fact that'll now be stuck in your brain.

Putting the eye mask on, he waved his claw in front of you, happy that you didn't react to it.

“Okay. Ready to be muted?”

“I'm ready to be partially subdued.” You chuckled as he joined in.

“Okay, just let me know if you feel uncomfortable.” He shot out a long string, double roping it around your mouth and part of your head. “Bite down.”

You obeyed as you tried to get used to the thick organic webbing. It was like a rope, but not. A feeling that if someone asked you to describe, you wouldn't know where to begin.

He strummed over your curves, crooning at the beauty that was secured before him. His full lips and tongue were dragging and wetting your body as you felt two unsheathed fingers hook the bands of your underwear, drawing them down until they were on the floor.

His eyes were locked on your arousal. You exhaled out contentedly, knowing that you were in safe hands. Even if you weren't in control, you still felt like the leader of this.

He dropped to his knees, eye level with your clenching heat. You awaited him, electricity coursing through your veins, desperate to know when he would have his way with you. You could only groan, not being able to move any part of your body as you spread open like a buffet exclusively for him.

“Always a delightful sight.” He nipped your inner thighs, adding suction to leave markings. 

“Mine.” He trailed his tongue over your vulva, making sure to get every part.

A while escaped, your chest heaving from the sensual lick. You yearned for more as you tried, but no matter what you enunciated, only jumbled-up groans from your throat came out.

He pretended not to hear your neediness, teasing your folds with a flick here and there. He would quickly bury his head into your entrance, pumping his tongue for a couple of seconds before pulling out. He did it several times, and you weren't happy with the taunts.

“Mmm! Mm mmmph!” 

“Mmm, no puedo escucharte. All I hear is murmurs, amor.” 

You could envision his condescending smirk just from his voice. You growled, but stopped when you felt the familiar head on your clit.

On a low setting, Miguel settled the toy, knotting the web around your waist and hips so it could stay attached right to the fleshy bud.

“Now, you will cum when I tell you. Understand?” He slid two fingers into your core, scissoring to help with your urges. 

You hastily gave the thumbs-up, and your moans in his ears made him grunt. “Muy bueno, muy, muy bueno.”

He yanked his two fingers out, causing you to panic and request that he keep going as best as you could, when he suddenly upped the power.

“Mmmm—Mmph. Mmn!” 

He removed his clothes and sauntered over to the seat you left out. Cozily perching himself down, he squeezed some of the clear substance on his hands, pleasuring his throbbing cock.

You despised that you couldn't see a thing, but you loved the feeling that he was still providing, even if you didn't know what it could be. You listened to his praises, your ears picking up squishing noises. You couldn't tell if that was from you or if he was doing something to himself.

“Look at my gorgeous moon. She's doing so well, trying not to cum. You're such a good girl for following my rules.” 

He stroked himself faster as he eyed your messy, trembling figure. The vibrator went wild as your legs spasmed, but with the restraints, it barely seemed as though they were moving.

He licked his lips at your dripping pussy—a nice puddle formed on your wooden floorboards. A delicious view for only him to behold.

Your muffled screams and begs were music to his ears. Your face drenched in sweat, tears, and saliva, your mind ragged, knowing that he's observing every reaction and every moment. You knew he was enjoying himself way too much.

“Let's see if we can add a bit more, corazón.”

You shook your head; your faint pleas went unheard. The fact that he already denied you to orgasm, and now he wants more? He's torturing you at this point just because he can. And you adored it.

“Mmph! Mmm!” You wriggled as you sensed him getting closer to you.

“You doing okay?” He stroked your hair, and you gave the thumbs-up to have him keep going.

“Bueno.” 

You heard another buzzing sound. Did he have a second vibrator? Did you? You swore you only had one, so you had zero idea what it could be.

“Mmmm? Mmm?”

Miguel chuckled at your curiosity, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Remember, mi amor. No cumming unless I say.”

The sound was getting louder. You really wanted to see what it exactly was, so you snapped your finger, and Miguel immediately tore the silk from your mouth.

“Corazón? You okay?” He examined your face for any indication of uneasiness.

“I'm fine, Miggy. Just a bit interested if you had another vibrator.”

“No. It's my web.” 

You were a bit lost. His web? But the ones around you weren't humming or anything like that, so that probed the question: what type of web was this then? 

“But how is it buzz–” Your mouth was once again covered as you screeched when Miguel took hold of the toy, rubbing and pressing it harder on your clitoris.

“Laser web. Now remember. No. Releasing.” You gasped when something heated was pushed into your opening, convulsing and pulsating lightly.

Your toes curled at the overstimulation. You sobbed, your heart hammering at a treacherous tempo. You wanted to cum so badly; you wanted that sweet release of relief and satisfaction, but he wasn't going to allow it.

“There you go, such a good girl.” He pushed the web in and out in a rhythmic pattern. The drones from the objects, the squelching from your pussy, and those cute noises emitting from you made him twitch madly.

Your juices trickled down his claws, the other side wanting to escape as the nectar from your delectable pussy stickied his hand and web, as he knew you were doing everything in your power to not release.

He dropped the web when a raspy, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. “Fuck, fuck—I want you, corazón. I need you. Please.” 

Miguel grasped the webs, his eyes lingering, waiting for that signal. You nodded, as he saw the thumb. He smiled and removed the mesh and blindfold, revealing that warmth and faith in your smile and gaze.

“You are beautiful, you know?”

“You mention it every chance you get.” You giggled out when he pushed his forehead on yours.

“Then I will continue to do it. You are very beautiful.”

He kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, before shoving himself in one go. You threw your head back at the suddenness. A cry quickly turned into a shriek when you felt the familiar buzz on your clitoris once more.

Miguel began to thrust maniacally, your back rubbing against the wall from every pump he gave.

“You like that? Mmn, mmm, fuck, mi corazón, such a perfect little pussy for papi.” He grunted in your ear, licking the lobe.

“Mi-Miguel! Too… too much!” Your screams sprang out, your walls constricting with every deep impact.

“You can- fuck… You can take it—ah, mierda, so good…”

He released his firm hold on the netting to your hips. Pulling all the way out, he paused for a few seconds before ramming himself back to the hilt. He repeated this, prizing himself on the reactions.

Tears rolling down your chin, your shudders, and whimpers that merge into strangled moans. Your disheveled state as you took Miguel, feeling the tip brush against your cervix, as your belly bulged from every breach.

His hips grinding against yours, your brain foggy with white, and him in the center. The vibrator was whirring with every rock; you were losing your mind.

“Too sensitive- Miguel. Please!”

“I'm not stopping. Going to fuck–ah–going to fuck you until you can't walk.” 

“Miguel!” You wailed out as drool leaked down as he rubbed against your g-spot.

“That's right; let them know who's doing this. You're mine. I'm going to have you and everyone else remember.” He rasped out in that ragged, husky tone, making you quiver all over.

His name was the only thing leaving your lips as your soaking walls clenched. The sensation from his throbbing, heated shaft as he hit every point perfectly. You slowly began to garble out his name, slurring it into one incoherent sentence.

“Mig-Miguuel!”

“There you go, who owns this pussy?”

“You.”

Miguel snarled in your face, yanking your head back. “I don't like repeating myself. Who? Owns? This? Pussy?!”

His hip bones slammed into yours. You were aware you were going to be overtly sore and bruised in the morning, but it was all worth it in the moment.

“Miguel! Miguel owns this pussy!” 

“¡Sí, joder! ¡Buena chica, qué buena chica! ¡Papi es dueño de este coño, papi es dueño de este hermosa coño!” 

You were far gone; the sounds of your wet, erotic bodies covered every square centimeter of your living room and kitchen, and maybe even out of the door.

Your feverish sobs and his primal growls sent you into a frenzy. A strong yearning began to creep itself into your stomach as Miguel's brutal pace refused to let up.

“I feel—ah—Miggy! I'm going to—I'm going to—”

“Cum, cum, my love. Yes, yes, cum on my cock. Do it. Cum!”

His hand reached between you two as he pressed the overwhelming toy more on your sensitive bud, jerking it back and forth like a joycon.

Your mouth opened wide, and your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head when you snapped.

“Miguel!” 

The bubble burst. You squirted out on his abs, your thighs, the floor, and who knows what else. Your body quaked as if someone were trying to perform an exorcism. But whatever was possessing you, you didn't want it to leave.

He growled out, pushing your legs up to change the angle. He propelled sporadically as he was close to his own climax.

“Sí, sí, sí, joder, joder, joder—corazón!”

He roared out, his talons pricking your hips, as he emptied his entire soul into you. 

His chest heaved, your bodies glistening in sweat, as he pressed his forehead into yours, a shaky breath released.

“Ah… ah- ha…. Fuck. Baby? Corazón? You… you okay?”

“I…”

“Yes? You okay?” He wiped some moisture off your face.

“I- if the dove is the bird of peace, what is the bird of true love? It’s the swallow.” You gave a goofy and sleepy grin.

Miguel froze before he snickered and began to laugh. 

“I did it! I made you laugh.”

“Ay, yes… Yes, you did. What am I going to do with you?”

You both smiled into the kiss, happily swirling your tongues in a messy dance.

“Did I fulfill your fantasy, amor?”

“Mhmm, but let's go another round, just to be sure it was completely satisfactory.”

“Dios mío, me estás matando, luna mía. Pero maldita sea, si no es de la mejor manera posible.”

You didn't understand, but your eyes were right back covered, and that was enough for you to know.

[my-castles-crumbling]

The Art of Gift-Giving

@wolfstarbingo2024 - prompt: gift giving - word count: 592 - warnings: none - rating: g - link

It started out small. Little bars of chocolate and tokens of affection left on his pillow, handwritten notes in block letters explaining secretive feelings and intimate desires.

But then it got more elaborate.

Every time a gift was left it seemed to be hand-picked for him. If he ripped the elbow of his favorite jumper, it seemed a new one was left for him on his bed within the day. If he expressed a desire for a specific quill or a flavor of his favorite candy, whatever he asked for always appeared.

He began testing it. Trying to figure out who his secret admirer could possibly be. And he realized quite quickly that it had to be someone who lived in his dorm.

It was pretty obvious after a while. He didn't hang 'round a lot of people, and many times his expression of needs or wants was only in front of his three closest friends. So, he started trying to narrow it down.

"Ugh, I'm almost out of blue ink," he lamented in front of James one day as they studied alone in he library.

"Sucks, mate," James replied vaguely, staring over at Lily, who was chatting with Marlene McKinnon.

His present the next day was a scarf, made of the softest wool.

"The pudding tonight was awful," he complained to Peter as they played chess quietly another night, Peter solidly kicking his arse.

"It was!" Peter exclaimed. "Checkmate, by the way."

And his present, he found, was a new journal, bound in leather.

But the next night, when he said to Sirius, heart beating nervously, "My quill broke yesterday. My favorite one," he was half-hoping not to find the stunning, gold-plated quill he saw on his pillow the next day. Because he knew what that meant.

"Sirius!" he called to his friend in the hall, embarrassment and a bit of anger flooding through him, grabbing the shorter boy's hand and pulling him into an empty classroom. "We need to talk."

"What's up, Moons?" Sirius asked. And Merlin, he was pretty. Remus hated himself.

"You need to stop," he said softly, tears in his eyes. "It's not fair."

"S-stop what?" Sirius stammered, but they both knew what Remus was talking about.

"I don't know if you're teasing me, or you're doing this out of pity, or what," Remus said, trying to keep his voice level. "But it's got to stop. I don't want any of this. I-"

But Sirius interrupted him, looking shocked. "Rem, I'm not making fun of you, and I'm definitely not doing this out of pity. Fuck, I- I'm doing this because-"

"I don't want to hear this, Sirius," Remus cut him off. "I can't hear it." He wanted to cry. To run. It was impossible, to hear that Sirius didn't feel the same way. He knew it, of course, but to hear it aloud would forever change him. The dread was sitting in his stomach like a sludge and he just needed to scream.

"Remus, I like you!" Sirius nearly-yelled, throwing his hands out desperately.

And Remus stilled, hope blooming in his chest, a single tear escaping his eye and slowly moving down his cheek. "What?"

"Yes! Merlin, I wouldn't have done all of this otherwise," Sirius said, face a bit nervous, gaze at his feet as his confession sat in the air.

But, rather than taking too long to search for words that he wasn't sure he could find right now, Remus chose to reach for Sirius instead, drawing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

Leave comments and kudos here!

[toms-cherry-trees]

Not Worthy Of You || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: An unexpected visitor at night brings some clarity to the last months

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Mention of B&C and Storm's End. No beta reading

Author's note: This was supposed to be short. This was supposed to be 1k words. But I got carried away. Enjoy!

The candles had long died out, and only dying embers remained in the smouldering fireplace, too feeble to give the room any light. Piercing darkness entered through the gaps in the drapes, the moonless night shrouding the Red Keep in a thick, ponderous veil of black. Not a sound disturbed the quietness of the Holdfast, nor the peace of those sleeping in it.

You stirred in the bed, the sheets rustling and a pleasant tingle spreading through your body as you stretched your limbs lazily. You felt well rested, perhaps for the first time in many moons. It had been a long time since you last woke up naturally, instead of being forcefully taken from your slumber by aches, cramps, and most recently, little cries throughout the night. At that thought your eyebrows furrowed, and still partially asleep you rolled over in the bed, your hand searching in the darkness for the little wooden cradle by your side.

Your fingers only found emptiness, the abandoned blankets still holding your newborn’s warmth.

Whatever drowsiness lingered in your mind soon dissipated as worry crept upon you, settling like a heavy weight atop your chest. You sat upright with such haste you felt faint, having to hold onto your head until the bright lights vanished from your  vision. Fright quickly overcame your senses. You double checked the crib, pulling blankets out and looking under your bed, as if somehow the babe, barely a fortnight old, could have climbed out and hidden somewhere without you noticing. 

Desperation clouded your thoughts, your heartbeat quickening and your breath coming in shallow pants. You scrambled from bed, barely having half a mind to grab a robe; the parky night air covered your skin in gooseflesh. You headed for the door, the call for help ready to sprout from your lips, when the smallest, softest of coos drew your attention to the opposite side of the chamber. 

Now that your eyes had adjusted a bit, you could vaguely make out the shape of a person sitting in front of the large windows in a sturdy rocking chair your family had gifted you when they received the news of your impending motherhood. Slightly hunched forward, gently swaying back and forth, the rockers barely made noise against the thick carpet they laid upon. At first you believed it to be the wetnurse, who usually sat there to feed the baby, but you had specifically requested to have no servants in your chambers at night, wishing to carry the bulk of the childcare yourself. Hoping that that way you would feel more connected to your child, instead of staring at it like a foreign being that had been dropped on your lap by the Mother. Lovely, yes, and so dearly loved, but foreign nonetheless. 

Soon it became obvious, however, that it was not the wetnurse, nor a maid, the one who sat in the chair. The dark figure sat tall, shoulders muscular and long legs stretched out, rocking the chair with a lazy sway of heavy boots. Oppressive panic stole the breath from your lungs at the vision of the unknown man, his arms positioned in a way that could only mean he currently held the infant in his embrace. The memory of what had recently happened to Helaena and her sweet child remained fresh in your mind. 

You considered screaming for help, but not even a choked cry managed to come forth. Or maybe it did, and you just couldn’t hear it above the frantic hammering of your heart, rumbling in your ears like menacing war drums. Blindly you sought a weapon, any means of protection you could grasp to defend yourself and your child. Your trembling fingers gripped tightly the handle of an ornate letter opener you so happened to have left in the nightstand. You tried to swallow, but found your mouth to be as dry as the Dornish deserts. 

Your feet barely made a sound in the flagstone as you carefully approached the intruder. Your mind overflowed with horrifying images of what had occurred to sweet Helaena. Even though you had not been witness to the act, the whispers reached you nonetheless, despite the Dowager Queen having carefully instructed the servants to not mention the crime near you, for fear of upsetting your mood and spoiling your health, right in the middle of your seventh moon of pregnancy. Despite the efforts, the nightmares lasted for weeks, fuelled by the clamour of your good sister’s wails as she escaped her chambers at night and wandered the halls calling for her lost son.

Slowly, as if wading through mud, you approached the chair. But it seemed the distance lengthened with each step, or perhaps your imagination had fooled you and you remained rooted in the spot. Your brain overflowed with horrific scenarios, a million outcomes to the situation, and the hopeless need to cry out, even if your mouth refused to open. As your eyes finally adjusted to the pitch darkness, however, you noticed silvery white tresses covering the person’s shoulders, and a thin dark strap wound around the head. The arm carrying the weapon lowered slowly, and the letter opener slid from your sweaty grasp onto the floor. Although weightless, in the silence of the night, the little piece of metal resonated like thunder.

The man didn’t flinch nor move to seek the source of such scandal; his smooth voice echoed in the chamber, a careful murmur to be heard without waking the baby. 

“Abrazȳrys” 

The familiar term of endearment should have calmed your nerves, but the word spoken so abruptly made you jump in your spot, hand coming to your bosom as your heart raced, as if ready to escape from the confines of your chest and make a run to safety. 

“Seven hells, husband. You scared me half to death” You protested, pressing your cool palms against your heated cheeks and taking slow breaths. An immense wave of relief washed over you, mixed with an overpowering sense of weakness; all your energy had been consumed in the eternal moments you thought yourself and your child in danger, and now it took all you had not to collapse on your knees.

“My sincerest apologies, wife” He replied with a tone of propriety so usual in him, as if he merely apologised for bumping on you in the hallway, instead of scaring the living daylights out of you. His violet eye met yours as you moved within line of vision, taking seat in a low cushioned bench against the wall.

The bundle of blankets wrapping their firstborn appeared small and radiant against the dark planes of Aemond’s chest; the child tightly tucked in shades of green and trimmings of gold, chubby cheek snuggled against the warmth of her father’s body as she slept soundly. It amused you how easily the girl cozied up to Aemond, considering that, as far as you knew, they had not met before.

Fifteen nights and fourteen days had passed since their daughter Daenys came into their arms, letting her powerful cries be heard throughout the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast as the hour of the bat reached its peak of darkness. The child stunned those who helped bring her forth into the world, having been born with her eyes open, the right one violet like a Targaryen, and the left one with her mother’s colouring. A full head of silvery hair mixed with stray wisps of darker hues, giving her a colour no one could quite describe. 

The day of her birth, her father shone in his absence. He evaded the Holdfast as if it were a cursed place. First he escaped towards the sparring yard, demanding to be taught the usage of a bastard sword, and turning a deaf ear to Cole’s comments that he should be with his wife. When the pestering became unbearable he tried to see his sister instead, but his wife’s screams echoed through every hall, making it impossible to ignore. Defeated and overwhelmed, he turned towards his dragon, far away from everyone. The smallfolk saw the massive shadow of a winged beast soar the skies, framed by the last rays of the setting sun as if engulfed in a fireball. Sight of him was lost with nightfall, but the dragon’s cries could still be heard, hidden behind clouds. 

Aemond would have remained airborne until sunrise, had not young Daeron been sent out to pursue him and inform him that his wife had brought forth a most precious healthy girl. But not even such joyous news managed to lure the Prince back to the Red Keep. He flew again, towards unknown destination, not to be seen until the following day, well after the sun had begun its journey across the sky. Yet instead of rushing towards his family, he locked himself in the library, buried between books and scrolls until past dinner.

His attitude puzzled many around the court. Even if he perhaps found disappointment in the gender of his firstborn, his commitment to avoid his wife and child surpassed all levels of understanding; whispers began to spread of all sorts, most showing support to the beloved lady than to him. Some even said it was for the best; who would want a kinslayer to come near a newborn anyway?

No one could come even close to understand the why of his actions..

He had not been the same since Storm’s End. After his return, while his brother rejoiced and his elders frowned in worry, Aemond found himself numb, cold even, as if the icy winds and gelid rain that accompanied his flight that night had seeped into his bones. He only recalled broken fragments of what had occurred after he flew in pursuit of his nephew; the rattling of the saddle chains against the wind, Valyrian words shouted into the storm he did not remember pronouncing; a feeble, pathetic little fireball blown into Vhagar’s eyes, not doing more harm than a pebble would against the mountain. The horrific crunch of Arrax’s bones under ferocious jaws, as whatever remained of him and his rider floated down towards the restless sea.

The horrifying knowledge that his actions had caused the death of not one, but two boys.

After that, he shut himself more, if possible. He refused to see anyone, spending days and nights alone in his chambers, permitting only the presence of a servant to bring him his meals and news from the outside, isolated like a common prisoner. He abandoned his marital chamber, moving instead to the ones once meant for his wife; connected by a door he kept permanently locked and blocked. 

His mother attempted to coax him out with gentle words and his grandsire with stern reproaches. You knocked on his door at nights, softly whispering his name, almost like a plea. He saw your shadow under the door, pacing or sitting on the floor against it, waiting for something to happen, to at least receive a word of acknowledgement; but night after night your hopes crumbled into dust, and soon you gave up. There’s no helping someone who doesn’t want to be helped

Yet a flicker remained, that the ice would melt with the fire of newborn life. That the cries of their so awaited child would break the trance Aemond had submerged into and return him to his senses.

He opened his door that day, yes, but only with the intention to flee. 

And now, without warning or explanation, he showed up in the dead of the night, hidden by darkness like a lowly criminal, pushed by some unknown force to finally hold the being that had changed his status from man to father. 

You sat with your hands on your lap, patiently awaiting for an explanation. Yet Aemond didn’t move, nor spared you a second glance; his whole focus on Daenys. His eye fixed on her soft features, arms protectively around her, holding her with dexterity you did not yet possess, but he had acquired with his little brother and his niece and nephews. One arm around the body, the other under, lithe finger cradling her head and gently caressing the silvery hair. Even in the dark, you could see the enthrallment in his gaze. The fearsome warrior Prince, wrapped around Daenys’ minuscule finger

“Husband?” You called out softly, trying to attract his attention

“I heard her cry” He replied, his thumb brushing across Daenys’ cheek “Whenever she cries I hear her from my chamber. You always tend to her so quickly, almost as if you awake before she makes a sound” You blinked fast, perplexed. You never imagined he could hear from his chambers, but again, Daenys had a pair of lungs that could be heard from across the city if you wanted to. 

“But she cried and cried tonight, and nothing happened. I thought you could not settle her, but I didn’t hear your voice like when you speak or sing to her. So I came” 

You wanted to be embarrassed that he had heard that too, but instead focused more on the fact that if Aemond knew all of that, he lingered at the door whenever their daughter cried, wishing to know what was happening with her. For a moment you imagined him with his ear pressed to the wood, holding in his breath to not miss a sound.

“She kicks a lot when she cries” He commented “I thought she wanted to be fed, or was cold. But you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, and I-” He swallowed before continuing, His index traced the baby’s features, from the roundness of the cheeks to the sharpness of the nose, a perfect match of his own.  

“I took her in my arms and she settled. I suppose she didn’t want to be alone” 

His voice held amusement. As if he could not believe his daughter, his own blood, could find comfort in his embrace. He had expected her to kick and scream and alert the world that a monster had come for her. But she didn’t. She just snuggled close to him and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the safety of her dad’s arms.

You felt your heart ache for him, as you finally began to comprehend some things. The why of Aemond’s distance. He had killed a boy. His bastard nephew, and the object of his ire, but a boy nonetheless. Because of that, Jaehaerys had been lost. And now he feared something similar would find his girl, for it seemed that a path of tragedy and blood followed his every step and dragged those close to him into the same fate.

You stood, not without difficulty, and moved to stand behind him, one hand on his shoulder. He shifted position, holding Daenys on one arm and holding your hand with the other, thumb caressing your knuckles. They remained in silence, both staring at the fruit of their love with adoration only a first time parent can conjure.

“She’s beautiful” He whispered “Gevie hae se hūra”

You only understood ‘gevie’, and that sufficed to make you smile. You leaned down until your chin rested atop Aemond’s shoulder, cheeks pressed against each other “She’s perfect. And she looks so much like you” 

“Only the good parts” He replied, almost a bit harshly, the mere notion of his daughter resembling him setting him off. But soon he relaxed as Daenys stirred, mouth open in a quiet yawn which left her tongue trapped between her lips. 

“She will be the best of us” You commented, your arms coming under his own to hold her. To hold them both; Aemond needed your support as much as the babe did. Right there, maybe even more. 

“I will hurt her” He whispered, barely audible, his grip on Daenys tightening as he leaned down, his forehead against hers as he closed his eye. “If something bad happens to her, it will be on me”

“You would never” You rushed to reply, a coil tightening in your throat. How could Aemond think such a thing? He could never. You knew it. You knew it from the moment you saw him with the child in his arms, that he would burn down the entire country to safekeep that little girl

“Directly or indirectly, but I am dangerous for her. I’m not worthy of her” Sorrow laced his words, a sentiment foreign to your husband, who always held his emotions carefully and kept them well hidden under a mask of serene indifference. Seeing his vulnerabilities surface felt wrong, as if you had witnessed something private, a crack in the surface of an indomitable mountain. But he had no privacies with you; you were his wife, and you were meant to know him whole.

You moved to crouch before him, hands cradling his face and forcing him to meet your firm gaze “You are her father. The Gods blessed us with this gift because they deemed us worthy of her. And I know you won’t let anyone touch a single hair in her head, because they will be ash and dust before they can even get close” This time, you flattened your forehead against his, never letting go of him “You are worthy of this. Of her. You are worthy of good things” 

His eye closed and he leaned into you, your bodies together shielding Daenys, keeping her warm. You two remained there for who knows how long, in silence, holding each other again after so long apart. It was him who broke the spell, his hand coming to circle your waist

“Let’s put her to sleep” He replied in a soft whisper “And then I’d like to sleep in your bed, if my lady wife will have me tonight”

You smiled without meaning to, feeling his warmth spread over you

“Tonight and every night. All the nights you want”

[resonatorover]

WHEN RAINDROPS FALL UPSTREAM... SEEK GENERAL JIYAN OF THE MIDNIGHT RANGERS.

In which, you, are requited to be with the General, in a prophecy by Jué.

[ c.w ] — not proofread, incomplete and diverts from the canon storyline. reader is a havoc resonator.

[ g ] — gender-neutral, they/them used.

[ t ] — subtle fluff/comfort; star-crossed lovers.

[ a/n ] — should i make this a fluff or angst? i'm not tooo sure, but we'll see. feel free to leave your comments or any requests !! have a nice day and stay hydrated <3.

To be mentioned in a prophecy said by a Sentinel itself, one must either be of great importance, or destined for great demise. However, what the General of the Midnight was not expecting was a silent saying by the Loong, that, "On the blue-lit night right when the moon rises, will come a resonator that can annihilate matter at the Gorge of Spirits. Protect them with all your might, or watch them turn to the void."

Before, Jué had always made purposefully vague prophecies or comments, yet this one was relatively not as much. In fact, it is probably the most concise prophecy he's been told. Although, this one was similar to the one of the Rover's, it felt a lot, lot different.

And so, Jiyan waited patiently, for the day that prophecy was to be fulfilled. However, when the day did come, it was of a sight he was not used to— although, undeniably, was prepared for.

The lines in the sky were brighter than before, and the moon casted down its grace to the land and sea. Many citizens had come to view the scenic moon, taking spots at high altitudes to gain better view of it. The Magistrate had deemed it as a safe occurrence, yet Jiyan could not help but feel unsettled as he made sure to keep his guard up whilst travelling to the Gorge of Spirits.

Lo and behold, there they were. With no one else in sight, it was obvious that the one in front of Jiyan was indeed the one Jué had talked about. It further proved his confirmations, when they glanced his way, querying with a shy, or embarrassed, smile. "Excuse me? Do you know where Jin..zhou city is?" The horrible accent was enough to explain that they were from a foreign land, if the apparel did not. Nodding, Jiyan would escort them there. But, what they did not know was that Jiyan was keeping out an observant eye for the other whilst they chatted leisurely.

Days passed steadily, yet Jiyan was uncertain what he was in actuality protecting them from. But, his silent determination never wavered.

However, he did not expect to get closer to the person themself. Whether it be talking to them at a distance where their shoulders touched, fixing little mishaps in their apparel, or even teasing them occasionally. The soldiers have gotten used to the resonator's appearance already, as Jiyan offered to keep them safe in the company of his quaint cottage, albeit it was neglected before their existence in his life. The shared home was made into a cozier place, almost reminding Jiyan of his mother.

The plants they brought in provided a freshness to the ambience of the home, the paraphernalia being remnants of their hobby strewn around. Jiyan did not mind, not when they brought such a positively light presence, releasing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"Wait... you're a General?.. The General of the Midnight Rangers?" it was evident from their voice, that they were both embarrassed at their own informality and nonchalance regarding their introduction, but Jiyan was swift to soothe any worries.

"Yes, but don't feel obliged to speak formally with me. You're fine as you are." He spoke, offering them an almost imperceivably visible smile.

It took a while, but eventually Jiyan managed to calm them down, and make them comfortable around him.

Little did he know, peace and their amity was just a red herring for what would appear next in the two's lives.

© @resonatorover do not reproduce.

[multifandom-pleasures]

shadow x reader

A/N: sorry for dying on y’all - work was kicking my ass ! but i’m back with another shadow one shot because i’m obsessed with him. enjoy !

2:43 am. the light from your clock made it glaringly obvious the ungodly hour your found yourself to be awake at. your mind was much too busy to keep still in bed, tossing and turning and shifting as your thoughts screamed at you. you were starting to have too many nights like this.

you shoved your blanket off from you and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, rising to your feet. you padded your way to the door and opened it, peeking out into the dark hallway, squinting to make sure your roommate didn’t hear the creaking of the wood before you slipped out to make your way to the kitchen.

you flicked on the light, buzzing of the bulb the only sound to fill the silence as you began to rummage through the fridge for something to snack on. might as well occupy yourself with something good if you were going to be awake. in your concentration of debating whether to have an apple or a sandwich for your late night meal, you didn’t hear the steps following after you to join you in the kitchen.

“ what are you doing. “ you jolted and nearly hit your head on the roof of the fridge on your way out, turning to the voice. shadow stood there with his arms over his chest, still wearing his shoes and gloves. you squinted at the sight.

“ grabbing a snack. “ you replied, nabbing the apple before shutting the door, “ what about you? it’s late, I’d expected you to be asleep. “

“ I don’t necessarily need to. “ he replied with a small shrug, leaning against the doorway, “ I was cleaning my gun when I heard you leave your room. it’s late. “

“ oh wow, really? “ you craned your neck to look out of the window, faux awe on your face. you smirked at shadow’s humorless scoff, “ I couldn’t sleep, and I don’t think I will be able to for a while so.. apple. “ you lifted the fruit unceremoniously as you passed him to leave the kitchen.

“ any particular reason? “ he questioned before you could head back to your room, and you turned to face him again. the light illuminated the outline of his form.

“ just.. “ you waved vaguely to your head, “ busy up there. “ he hummed in acknowledgment, his face flickering with familiarity at the feeling. you were about to start turning again when he spoke up.

“ I could help. “ you rose a brow at him, “ since sleeping isn’t a necessity for me, and you won’t be asleep either.. I have something that could help. “ he motioned for you to leave your snack, and with a frown at having to discard a barely eaten apple you left it on the counter of the kitchen. he flicked off the light and began to make his way to the front door.

it was an outside thing then. you slid on your shoes and trailed after him as he stepped outside, making sure the door was locked before leading you to the side of the building. you stood patiently aside as he opened up the little garage, and as he pushed up the door you were met with something reflecting the moonlight.

shadow sent a smirk your way as he stepped into the darkness, and emerged with a sleek black and red motorcycle, his familiar insignia decorated on the sides. your lips parted in awe as he wheeled it up to stand it beside you.

“ you’ve had this the whole time? “ you gave him a shove to his shoulder, and he chuckled as he stood proudly before his bike.

“ I only use it for work; and at night. there’s no real reason for me to use it any other time. “ he hopped onto it, turning on the engine and giving it a little rev. you had a feeling he was showing off a bit. you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“ you’re offering me a ride then? “

“ no, I pulled it out just for you to take a look. “ he mimicked your earlier sarcasm, and held his hand out to you, “ yes, come on. before I change my mind and leave you to suffer with your thoughts. “

you didn’t hesitate then to take his hand, climbing onto the seat behind him. after a beat he motioned for you to wrap your arms around him.

“ you have to hang on. I hope you realize these things don’t have seatbelts. “ you let out a small embarrassed huff as you obeyed and wrapped your arms around his torso, clinging onto his back. he gave a small nod in satisfaction before kicking up the stand, and after making sure you were going to stay holding onto him; he rolled out of the driveway.

with another rev of the engine, he peeled out onto the road and the sudden speed startled you, making you tighten your grip on the hedgehog. you could feel the wind nipping at your skin, and you had to duck behind shadow’s back in order to keep your eyes open against the wind. you focused onto the side views instead; watching trees and buildings and eventually, other cars as they whizzed by.

your heart was racing at the adrenaline of the quick drive, and yet, shadow moved with precision. he was quite talented on the bike. he weaved and steered between vehicles, clearing out of the busy night streets before he found a nice empty road; and from then on out, it was only you, him, and the rumbling of the bike.

it was peaceful. you looked up to the night sky, the moon bright as it shone onto you and the sky freckled with stars. it was mesmerizing. as if shadow could sense your awe, he glanced back to you with a smug little smile.

“ enjoying yourself? “ you huffed and lightly hit his chest, and then pressed your cheek to his shoulder as you nodded. he chuckled, “ whenever I happen to find myself.. lost in my head, or lost in general; I do this. I find an empty road and I drive, until I find myself back home or until the sun rises. whichever comes first. “

“ you do it a lot? “ you asked quietly, and he was silent for a moment before replying.

“ often enough. “ you fell silent again, and shadow seemed content with that. his hand came back to rest on your knee and give a reassuring squeeze, in a simple gesture that eased the rest of whatever worries you had lingering.

the ride lasted for a good few hours, and by the time you found yourself back home you were drowsy. the rise and fall of shadow’s breathing underneath your cheek and the rumbling sounding from the motorcycle, feeling it reverberate through you seemed to soothe you enough to relax you into such a state. when the bike wheeled back up to your shared home, you lifted your head tiredly to let shadow slide off.

you could barely keep your eyes open as you moved to get off as well, and you could hear shadow chuckling as his arms reached out to help you. you fell forward into his chest, huffing as you closed your eyes fully and mumbled, arms wrapping around his shoulders in a silent request for him to lift you.

“ I don’t wanna walk. “

“ what are you, a child? “ you gave a huff and light kick to his leg. he sighed and after a moment to see if you would budge, he relented and wrapped his arms around your waist. he lifted you, and as you wrapped yourself around him, he made his way to the door. you could feel yourself beginning to nod off, cheek resting on the hedgehog’s shoulder as he made his way inside and towards your room.

you felt your sheets beneath you as you were settled onto the bed, your shoes being slipped off of your feet and then your blanket enveloping you. you squinted your eyes open to look up at shadow as he tucked you in, a small look of concentration on his face, as if he’d never done it before. he only frowned at your sleepy smile.

“ go to sleep. “ he murmured, his hand covering over your eyes to make you close them again. you laughed drowsily and swatted his hand away, then covered your mouth as you yawned. god you were tired. you nestled yourself comfortably in your pillows as you listened to shadow’s shoes thumping against the floor as he made his way towards the door of your room.

“ shadow? “ he hummed in acknowledgment, his steps pausing, “ thanks.. for taking me out. It helped a lot. “

“ I’m glad. “ he replied quietly.

“ can we do it again, sometime? just for fun? “ he chuckled softly.

“ we’ll see. get some rest. “

“ you too, okay? “ it was silent then, and you could faintly make out the click of your door as it closed, already fading out of consciousness as your lack of sleep finally caught up to you. you dreamt of riding out on shadow’s back under a starry sky, content and at peace with the hedgehog before you.

[semifilms]

☆HE HAS A CRUSH ON YOU | toru oikawa

a/n - this been marinating in the drafts since june. COLLECTING DUST BUNNIES.

cw - none

okay, oikawa has a flirty personality but when he is romantically interested in you i think he flirts completely differently. like he wants it to be obvious he’s into you without saying he’s into you. maybe he’s walking wi you to class and some girl comes up to him like; “oikawa can i talk to you for a moment?” he knows just by that twin she wants to confess to him. his eye merely twitches at the fact. “ah, sorry maybe another time i’m kinda busy.” he’d politely say to dismiss her. these small acts he starts to do when developing a crush on you, and they go completely unnoticed by you until someone else brings it up.

you wouldn’t believe it at first until you finally notice. then you tease him about it to get him to tell you. mainly to see if it’s true because you’re still skeptical. “oikawa what do you think about going on a date?” you’d ask him suddenly while walking to the train station. he tenses up, “on a date..?” he muttered with a raised brow. “yeah, some guys asked me out during lunch and i’m considering it but i’m asking you because you’ve been on plenty i assume.”

you’re lying, but he doesn’t know that so in the moment he feels stupid. stupid for even thinking for a second you were trying to ask him on a date. “what makes you think i’ve been on plenty?” he asks offended, hiding his disappointed look with a confused one. you shrugged and glanced at him “you get confessed to a lot so i assume you’ve gone at least one date.”

neither of you speaks for a few minutes. you walk in silence, you’re not really sure why but you didn’t feel the need to speak up until the setter breaks the silence.

“i don’t think you should go on a date with him, he’s a bad guy. i’ve heard a lot about him.” you smiled to yourself at oikawa’s delayed response. “that’s funny,” you scoff before slowly lying down your pace and coming to a stop at a stop light. you turned to him with a smirk on your face. “what’s funny?” he asks

“i didn’t even tell you who he was,” you stated matter-of-factly. you swore you could hear his heart drop as he stopped to face you with a wary look on his face. “didn’t you though?” he hesitantly asked and you shook your head ‘no’.

the brunette rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “well what’s his name?” he asked. “doesn’t exist.” you stated with a shrug.

“is he a foreign student? that’s a weird name-” you laughed at him and cut him off. “no, he doesn’t exist. i made it up, i just wanted to see how you’d react.” you said as the light turned green and the walking figure lit up causing you to cross the street on instinct. oikawa followed quickly behind.

“why would you want to see my reaction?”

you shrugged again, you were now at the train station and you had pulled out your ic card and tapped it while walking into the station.

“do you have a crush on me?” your question was sudden and you caught oikawa off guard for the umpteenth time today. “why?” he asks his voice quiet. you both stood on the platform with other waiting people for your train and you glanced over to oikawa.

“does it matter? i just want to know if it’s true or not.”

there was another moment of silence between the two of you. though it wasn’t too quiet as trains could be heard getting closer and people around you kept talking. “what happens if i say yes?”

you don’t respond for another moment as you thought carefully about what to say next. “to be honest, i’m not sure right now, but we’ll figure it out together.”

he didn’t want to ruin his opportunity. though your response was vague he took it as his sign. the setter took a deep breath and turned his whole body to face you, you did the same.

“yes, y/n. i have a crush on you and i have for a while now and i’d really like to take you or on a date or something—only if you want to.”

your stomach fluttered and twisted into knots. you didn’t know if actually hearing it from his mouth made a difference but whatever feelings you had for oikawa. that you thought were just platonic did not feel like it at the moment.

“i want to.”

©semifilms do not copy, repost or translate my works

reblogs appreciated!