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notanactressyayy · 1 month

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—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.

warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.

notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!

(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)

divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^

You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.

You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.

Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.

To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.

Friends.

The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.

You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.

It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.

So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.

Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.

"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."

"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."

"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."

"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"

Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.

"Natasha."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.

Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"

"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."

"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.

"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."

"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.

"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.

"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"

"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."

"Just what?"

The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.

The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.

You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."

"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.

She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"

The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.

"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."

"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.

"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"

"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"

You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."

She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."

"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."

Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.

You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."

Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.

She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.

"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."

Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.

The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.

"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."

"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."

"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.

Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.

"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.

You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.

"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."

"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"

"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.

"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.

"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."

Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.

The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff soft smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff smut #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha marvel #marvel #Spotify

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waywardcrow · 4 months

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Dress.

Summary: After a mission where they crossed a line, Bucky decides to talk about what happened that night with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader.

WC: Almost 1600.

TW: Avengers kind of things, talk about weapons, sad reader and sad Bucky, misunderstendings, agents talking shit because of jealousy, SMUT (do not interact if you're not +18) some kissing, dancing and boners lol, semi public make out, oral (f recieving) fingering, hint of other things but not so much because I'm so bad a t this, sorry, let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

You hated everything that night, the happy people who were eager to get drunk and forget about the ending year, the music too loud that didn’t let you think, the beautiful dress you bought for that very occasion specifically because you wanted to impress a certain super soldier in the New Year's Eve party but that was before last mission, before you messed it all up.

If you closed your eyes, you could see everything playing perfectly in your mind, how unprofessional you were, how much space Bucky put between you two in the quinjet, the tension that followed you the last days and the words of the agents who probably knew about what happen from him. It was a disaster and you wouldn’t escape from it, Tony would never let you go without an explanation if you requested a transfer to another area.

Distracted, drinking your problems you didn’t noticed Bucky’s gaze tearing apart the pretty gold dress you were wearing as if he could feel your skin against his like that night.

It was a simple mission, find the target, watch it until Valkyrie and Wanda could secured the evidence –an arsenal of Asgardian weapons- and then arrested everyone but your cover was necessary and thanks to your powers, the ability to manipulate brain’s perception to make your audience see what you want- make you perfect to blend with him in that shady club pretending to be just a couple looking for a good time.

Easier to say than done, Bucky fought his boner all night with you dancing too close to him, whispering things in his ear, sitting in his lap… sure you could feel how much he wanted to fuck you there in front of everybody, he indulged in his little fantasy when he feel your own arousal, he told himself it was for the mission when he took you to a semi empty corridor to kiss you dumb.

You tasted better than he imagined, like honey and salvation, Bucky was sure that if he kept kissing you he would find heaven.

“Are you ok, terminator? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm” Sam pulled him out of his mind just in time before he got in trouble righ there in the middle of the party.

“I’m fine” he wasn’t and Sam let out a chuckle.

“Just go and talk to her, you can’t keep avoiding each other forever.”

You were avoiding him, Bucky just gave you space after you walked away from him when the mission was over, like he didn’t almost cum from having you exactly where he wanted you, with your perfect legs around him with just a thin layer of clothes between you.

“I said I’m fine” he said again, not looking at Sam when you made your way to the elevators, going after you.

It was better for you to leave early, too many drinks and you could end up crying or doing something you’ll regret, like talking to Bucky, who jumped in the elevator you called before the doors closed.

“Going to bed already?” he asked and you stared at him like an idiot, how could he look that good all the damn time? A black suit and white shirt shouldn’t make someone that hot, it was cheating “are you alright, honey?”

How have you missed his voice! A simple taste of him and you wanted more, you wanted him to touch you like that night, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like if time was against you both and every second he wasn’t making you feel all of him was a sacrilege.

“Why are you here, Bucky?”

Cornered, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, drawing his attention to your breasts, the memory of his lips pulling softly at your nipple made you want to close your legs to get some sort of friction, trying to calm the need for him.

Like he could read your mind, he licked his lips, wanting to pull your dress and bury himself in your chest but Bucky needed to have a conversation with you first.

“Are you going to avoid me forever, hon?” the super soldier lifted your chin to make you see him when you set your eyes in your heels “I can take a rejection, sweetheart but not you shutting me out completely.”

Bucky had made lots of friends with time but you were his first one, he didn’t want to lose you; you, in the other hand, were more confused than ever.

“What rejection? If anything, you’re the one who is not interested!” boldness coming from the alcohol made you talk before thinking about stopping “and don’t give me that look James Buchanan Barnes, you know perfectly what I’m talking about.”

The elevators door opened and you stormed out, going to you room, the audacity of that man!

“Can you explain to me what are you talking about?” Bucky took your hand and made you face him when you reached your door, all his cocky attitude was replaced by confusion.

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t tell Carla and Ashley what happen that night, I heard them talking the morning after in the gym” Above all the embarrassment there was hurt, you thought he could be trusted but Bucky proved you were an idiot “they were talking how you hated being assigned with me and to pretend to make out with me.”

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, what the hell were you talking about? He didn’t say anything, at all but you looked so sure he couldn’t speak.

“You made it very clear putting distance between us in the ride home but you didn’t have to tell them” your voice trembled, still you refused to cry, if that was the kind of man Bucky was, he didn’t deserve your tears.

“I swear I didn’t say anything, honey, I swear” he promised, making himself small to look at your eyes “I don’t know how they know, please believe me.”

You shake your head; you wanted to believe him but��

“I told no one, I really thought you were mad at me for taking advantage of the situation, that I misread it” he mumbled, desperate to prove you he was telling the truth, taking your face in his hands “I should have been more professional, more of a gentleman, ask you properly on a date, not acting like that, no matter how much I wanted it. That’s why I put space between us; Wanda and Val were looking at me like they would spray me with cold water if I breathed near you.”

Bucky wished you could read his mind to see he was honest but you still could, sensing his desperation matching yours.

“Do you really mean that?”

His heart broke at how unsure you sounded, he would spend every day of his life proving to you how much he meant it.

“I do, honey, you’re not only a friend to me, why do you think I requested to be with you in that mission?” with his arms around your waist, you put your hands in his chest to feel his heartbeat “I can’t be apart from you, I needed you close while I was gathering courage to confess my feelings but then I couldn’t hide it and…”

You interrupted him to kiss him, not giving a damn about anything but Bucky’s lips in yours. He opened the door and you took him with you to your room, tossing his jacket to the floor and taking your heels off.

“You should keep them on” he said between kisses, guiding you to your bed.

“Maybe next time” you promised, opening his dress shirt, he gave you a smirk while he took it off, like he couldn’t wait.

“This dress has to go, even if I love it.”

“I only bought it for you to take it off” you confessed, mesmerized by his hands undressing you before he placed you softly in your bed, earning a grin from him.

“Really? Well, you deserve a reward for thinking about me, honey”

Before you could ask, he was with his knees on the floor, ripping your panties to eat you out like he needed it to keep breathing.

It barely gave you time to let out a lewd moan that only encourage him more, putting your legs in his broad shoulders, nipping at your sensitive bud and teasing your entrance with his fingers.

It was real? It was the alcohol? You could think so if it wasn’t very improbable, your imagination couldn’t make this up, not something this good at least.

“Please” you begged and he shove one finger in you, then almost immediately another while licking you and going back to your clit, moaning at the taste of you, humping the mattress to get some relief, especially when you pulled at his short locks, making him groan.

“Bucky! Pleaseplease…” were the only words you could form but then he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue and you were gone, the orgasm hit you like a thousand waves and you could swear you fainted for a second, only coming back to yourself when you tasted your own arousal in his kiss.

Surprised to being this responsive with him, you kissed him back and he looked at you, fire blazing in his eyes.

“Come back to me, honey, we are just getting started” he promised against your lips and dear God, he was a man of his word. Hors later, the fireworks were loud enough outside but you both couldn’t care less, you finally have what you wanted: each other.

So this is my first time writing smut and I wanted to do it for New year's Eve, it was fun! Tell me what you think and happy new year!

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes angst

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iateyourparents · 5 months

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new girl | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: colby goes live on instagram but not everything goes as planned.

warnings: nothing really, just bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: colby was pacing so much on his ig live and it gave me this idea <3

pictures are from pinterest and colby’s snap:)

Your and Colby’s relationship was still somewhat fresh. And mostly important, hidden from his fans.

It wasn’t that you wanted to keep it hidden forever but you were together for seven months so you both didn’t feel ready for viewers reaction.

You knew he had many fangirls and some of them would probably eat you alive but you were ready for that and didn’t really care, but it didn’t change the fact that hiding it was making it even more exciting for you two, more special. So you didn’t rush to announce it although sometimes you wished you could just say to world he’s yours.

Currently you and Colby were sitting in the living room of your airbnb, waiting for ordered food while Sam was sleeping upstairs.

“I think I will go live on instagram for a few minutes.” Colby told you but didn’t move from his place under you on a couch.

“Okay, do you want me to go to our room?” you asked grazing his bare chest with your fingers.

“No, you can sit here. I will be careful to not show you.” he promised and you smirked at him.

“You better do, I’m not sure if your fans would be happy with some girl wearing only your hoodie.” you both laughed and you rolled of him so he could get up. He quickly kissed your lips and told you that he would start live on the balcony.

You were sitting silently on your phone, sometimes looking at Colby and listening to him answering people’s questions. He moved from outside and now was pacing around the room trying to not show you on his phone.

You started reading something on your phone only giving half of your attention to Colby’s words.

“Let Sam sleep.” he laughed and he didn’t even noticed his mistake, but fans surely did. The little, short flash of you lying on the couch in black hoodie was visible for his viewers for only a second but it was enough for them, they still caught it and started asking about you.

Colby noticed the comments and cursed himself but tried to act like there’s no comments about you. Until there were only comments about you and he just had to adress that.

“What?” he acted surprised “I’m alone here guys.” he looked at the couch where you finally looked at him and immediately understood what happend so you quickly but silently got up and went upstairs “Look, there’s no one on the couch. Maybe it was just a screen glitch or something.” he laughed.

Next day whole fandom was talking about mysterious girl on Colby’s live and him trying to play it off.

“You are screwed.” Sam laughed looking at tweets “Or maybe not. Some girl’s theory says it’s prank, like the one we did with Jake.”

“Maybe Sam could act like your girlfriend again and we would just act like it’s actually a prank again?” you offered looking at Colby.

You knew he was worried that the hate you would get after announcing your relationship would scare you off, so you didn’t want to press him into announcing even if you felt like you wanted to just go in public with him holding your hand and kiss him freely whenever you felt like it.

“We should think about it.” Colby agreed “Would you do that Sam?”

“Sure bro.” Sam shrugged and announced he’s heading to the store.

“Do you think we should do that?” you asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Colby looked at you after placing kiss on your forehead.

“Wouldn’t you want to announce it already?” you squeezed his hand “I know you’re scared I won’t be able to handle the hate but I’m afraid I even more won’t be able to handle not being able to kiss you in public, hold your hand and hug you.”

“You’re sure?” he looked at you with a hope “I really want to tell the world you’re mine girl but I don’t want you to be hated on by my fans, it would kill me.” he placed his forehead on yours.

“I’m sure love. I love you and I don’t care what your fans think about me as long as I have you on my side.” at your words Colby smiled widely.

“I love you baby.” he kissed you “I’m sure Sam will be sad he’s no longer have to be my girlfriend.” you both laughed.

“How do you want to announce it?” you tilted your head looking at him and playing with his rings on his fingers.

“We are supposed to be exploring a house this weekend, would you like to go with us?” he smirked and you nodded with a smile.

“Sounds fun.” after a moment of silence you added “I hope your fangirls won’t be haunting me after the announcement.”

Colby laughed at that.

“I’m sure they will love you, you are just impossible to not love.” he kissed your nose.

“Yeah but they also hoped to be your girl some day.” you giggled.

“Well, this place isn’t available anymore, sorry.” he shrugged “Let’s watch something.”

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #snc #colby #katrina stuart #samuel golbach #sam golbach

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fioiswriting · 5 months

Text

Reunion | Sequel

[Part 1]

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral f receiving, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, anxiety, Reader has a child, grief, fluff, pregnancy, not proofread.

Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

Words count : 9150

Author's note : Hello everyone!! Sorry for the wait, I've been very busy, but here's part two of Reunion (or at least the first part two, let's call it part 2.1 hehe). Thank you again for all you kind comments and the love you've given my fanfic omg!! Spoiler alert: this is the happy alternate ending! But I've got another bittersweet alternative ending planned 😈 If you think the first part was good enough on its own and the sequel may break the vibe, don't force yourself to read!! But if you need a happy ending, here it is <3 The plot still doesn't make any sense, but hey, we're here to have fun so enjoy ❤️

English is still not my first (or second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes <3

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is the reassuring embrace of his arms around you. You don't want to move, not even when the sunlight tickles your face through the opening between the wooden shutters, trying to make the moment last endlessly. But the growing anxiety in your stomach chases away the illusion of your fleeting happiness.

You close your eyes a little tighter. Perhaps if you try again, perhaps if you try harder, the world around you can fade away.

Perhaps you can wake up again, in a different reality.

But it's inevitable. You know that now you're awake, it's only a matter of time before the two of you have to say goodbye forever. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you have to fight the tingling sensation at the corners of your eyes.

Why have the gods decided to be so cruel to you? They grant you one last taste of his skin on your lips before taking it from you, again.

Haven't you given enough?

Could they not show you mercy?

You who had forgotten him, you who had begun to turn a new page, to seek comfort in the arms of the cold, far away from the fire and the ashes, why did you have to touch the poison that would once again stain your soul?

Behind you, Aemond buries his long nose in your hair. His hand absently caresses the skin of your thigh, just where the edge of the linen tunic you put on sometime during the night when you were cold ends. The fabric is pulled up, revealing the outline of your bottom, and you can already feel your uncle hardening between his thighs, but you don't move.

If you move, you'll make everything more real. Tangible.

You'll speed up the process of losing him, of him slipping through your fingers.

How can you let him go, now that your heart is full again, now that you feel complete in a way you haven't felt for over three years?

How can you let him go, now that your body has retrieve the extension of itself in the arms of the man who was the cause of your torment, your moments of joy, your pain and, paradoxically, your happiness?

"I know you're awake."

You hold your breath and Aemond inhales into your hair. His hand moves down the inside of your thigh, along the hollow that joins it to your groin. He doesn't venture any further.

His thumb rests there and brushes your skin, trying to arouse the desire in you with gentleness.

Subtly.

He doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to rush you.

Not when he's been harbouring the impossible fantasy of waking up with you in his arms since the day he nearly died.

He presses harder against you, as if he doesn't want to let you go, as if he wants to be one with you again, and you feel him pulsing against your buttocks, under the linen cloth that has been pulled up a little higher. He says nothing, but he is pleading, needy, in his gestures, which is rare for him.

Something has changed, after all, and perhaps something has changed in him too.

"I am awake, indeed, " you whisper in a voice that is still half asleep. The lump in your throat betrays the feeling of anxiety gradually creeping into your body, and Aemond seems to notice. Under your tunic, his hand moves up along your belly until it nestles against your chest, close to your heart. His thumb draws small circles, once again trying to bring you back to him.

Trying to calm your mind.

"Let us forget for a little longer," he whispers, his clenched jaw resting over your head. "Please."

And you know he never begs.

Aemond takes and doesn't ask.

Aemond believes he is owed everything and never gives in return.

Hearing him beg breaks something inside you, because this is the first time he does so.

Usually it was you, it was always you, begging for peace, begging for more, begging him not to leave you.

Part of him is as desperate as you are; part of him also dreads the moment when you will have to part again. Forever. It's comforting to know that his feelings are sincere, just like yours.

" Make me forget, then." You reply, moving your lower loins back against him, giving him tacit permission to explore your body once more. His fingers move down to your breasts, which he covers softly with his hand, his thumb skimming over a nipple to make it hard. You let out a gasp between your parted lips.

His hand slides lower, his palm flat against your lower belly, his fingertips brushing the light patch of hair at the top of your mound. You feel the familiar warmth growing between your thighs, in your core.

He sighs against the back of your skull, his head tilted forward. His lips search the skin at the nape of your neck, behind the long hair that has become tangled during the night, while his fingers intimately explore the secrets of your body that he knows all too well. The remnants of last night's lovemaking still smear the insides of your thighs and folds, but it doesn't matter; his fingers easily find the little bundle of nerves that they tease until you close your eyes, until your hand grips the damp, shabby sheet that covers the ragged mattress in the inn where you've spent the night.

Just the both of you, in the comfort of anonymity.

"Let me taste you". His voice, still husky, tickles the back of your neck and you feel him shift behind you. When you feel the warmth of his bare chest, against which you're nestled, leave your back, your body automatically tries to move back against him. You still need him. You still need him to chase away the lump of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and the voices that keep reminding you that you're only postponing the fateful moment. Your hand slips under your white tunic and wraps around his wrist to force him to stay there, to hold his fingers against the source of heat spreading from your core. Your hips are demanding, grinding against his hand. "On your back," he insists, and stands up on his forearms.

With reluctance you turn over. You obey, lying on your back, your hair spilled around your head on the flat, uncomfortable pillow on which you slept badly. The white tunic that serves as your nightgown is pulled up, crumpled, just above your crotch, which it barely conceals.

Aemond has swung over your body, silvery strands loosening from the braid that holds his hair behind his head and sliding down his shoulders, falling in loose loops on either side of his face, tickling your cheeks.

His lilac-tinted blue eye glows with a predatory gaze, a ray of light catching in the sapphire he hasn't removed from his socket.

He captures your lips with his own, begging for access. Aemond marks your jaw and throat with light kisses, sucking at your collarbone to make the violets of possessiveness with which he likes to adorn your body bloom. His lips travel down your chest, playing with one of the two small nipples raised by the cool air and by desire, and continue their journey past your navel.

Your heartbeat quickens as he settles between your legs, spreading your thighs to admire the part of you he covets so eagerly. At the same time you bend your legs, your gaze falling on him, on his unravelled hair, on his eye that locks with yours. He is so close to you, so close to your warm centre, and you know that between your folds the sweet nectar that your uncle longs to taste is already flowing.

But his lips trace the inside of your thighs instead, where the skin is soft and tender, and gradually they reach the hollow that connects them to your most intimate part. He takes a malicious pleasure in building up the tension, in savouring every millimetre of you like a fine delicacy, with only the tip of his lips brushing against your skin.

His thumbs spread the tender flesh of your womanhood and then he places a chaste kiss on the very centre of you. His tongue is shy at first, tracing the slit that connects your entrance to your little knob, collecting the evidence of your desire.

As his tongue wraps around your nub, your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white.

Aemond drinks from your essence like a thirsty man, his nose buried between your folds, rubbing your pearl.

The tip of his tongue catches what drips from your opening, and then the flat of his tongue tastes your slit, working its way up to the little nub gorged with desire.

He maintains the same rhythm, revelling in the moans that escape from your half-open lips. Soon his middle finger begins to draw circles against your entrance, the first knuckle sliding inside, then the whole finger. Your head is thrown back and immediately your hand buries itself in his silvery hair, gripping his braid in a messy bun behind the top of his head. Forcing his face against the most intimate part of your body, forcing his lips to work on your wet warmth, you seek more contact.

Aemond adds a second finger. He can feel you tighten around him as he searches for that particular spot, as his tongue continues to play with your bundle of nerves.

As he devours what is his, utterly his.

His fingers, the ones that aren't buried inside you, close around the flesh of your hip in a possessive grip. "Come for me," he whispers against your womanhood, his eyes lifted to you. "I know you can do it."

Your breathing becomes more erratic, faster too. You tighten the grip of your fingers in his hair, your thighs pressing either side of his face, and he collects the sweet taste of your release on his tongue with a hum.

You feel like you're floating. The waves of warmth still wash over you, less and less intense, your breast rising and falling as you catch your breath.

Your hand tucks a lock of his hair back behind his ear as Aemond lifts his face towards you, and you rest your hand against his cheek. His parted lips still glisten with your desire smeared across the lower part of his face. He stares at you without moving, his deep, regular breathing the only sound to break the silence that has followed your release. You stay like that for a moment, his gaze burning into yours. At any moment he might pounce on you. At any moment he might close the tiny distance separating your mouths and press his lips against yours like the starving man he is.

It's you who makes the first move. You taste yourself on his lips and your tongue entwines with his in a fiery, demanding kiss.

Straightening up, Aemond creeps between your legs, his hand on the underside of your thighs, holding them apart. He is still completely naked from the night before, he has not bothered to get dressed after your lovemaking, so you can catch a glimpse of his erect manhood, slightly curved. He wraps his hand around to guide it towards your still sensitive wet entrance.

He slides into you easily, in one slow movement. The haste of the night before, the urgency of the reunion, has given way to the tenderness and laziness of the early morning, and Aemond rocks inside you slowly. His hips undulate, punctuated by long, deep thrusts, in an illusion of domesticity.

But the damp sheets, rough against your skin, the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath your back, remind you that your lovemaking is anything but domestic.

For Aemond is still the enemy, for Aemond is supposed to be dead.

For your family is probably looking for you at this very moment, worried that you have not returned home for the night.

But you push those thoughts away. The weight of your uncle's body on top of yours soothes the knot that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought of time slipping away, at the thought of having to leave him again, at the thought of this being the last time you will taste his lips, his skin.

Aemond is gentle, and that is rare enough to be worth mentioning. He has never been so gentle, so soft, in the limited time that you have been married.

Between you, there had been the devouring, consuming passion, the power play that in your submission had granted you dominance.

Between you it had been raw and devastating more than gentle and tender.

His fingers run the length of your body to your core, combining his slow, deep thrusts with the movement of his fingers against your clit.

There are only few words exchanged between you, as if you were both afraid to break the grace of the moment.

His panting, noisy breath echoes in the silence, skimming the skin of your throat, then mingling with yours as the shadow of his lips brushes against yours. He rests his forehead against yours, your hand cupping his cheek, sliding behind his neck, and you are transported into a cocoon of intimacy where nothing else exists around you.

There is only his body against yours, warm and reassuring.

There is only him inside you and the slow movement of his hips.

There is only your breathing, blending in the space that separates your mouths.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" He whispers against your lips as you close your thighs around him. "How much I dreamed of this tight little cunt?" You swallow his words. Your hips meet his as he pushes against you. He is reaching deep inside you. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his body oozes power and darkness, and you can't help but be drawn to that side of him that complements yours so well.

You can't stop your body from aching for him.

"You could have been my queen," he says as his movements grow stronger. He won't last long, but neither will you. He's inside you, where you like to feel him, and your walls clench around his member. "And I would have set the whole world on fire for you." He thrusts. "Burned it to the ground" He thrusts again. "All for you." And again.

The old wood of the bed creaks with each of his movements.

You seek out his lips, just to brush them against yours.

Without sealing the kiss.

"And I would have accepted," you answer with a whimper. "I would have been your queen, qybor." In another life, you think you would.

In another life, in another universe, you would have been his queen.

A grunt escapes his lips and lands in the hollow of your ear. Aemond straightens on his bent elbow, right next to your head, and he plunges into you one last time, with more power, more vigour, just as his new position allows.

You close your eyes.

A second wave of warmth is about to engulf your body.

And you wait for it, you welcome it.

"Look at me when I come inside you," he growls hoarsely as his seed pours deep inside you, into the most intimate part of your body. "Look at me as I fill you up."

Your eyes lock with his, fiery as ever. A final moan escapes between your lips and you seal them to your uncle's in a feverish, wet kiss. You hold him in your arms for a moment longer, as if to allow yourself the luxury of illusion for a brief instant.

You delay the fateful moment a little longer, fighting the minutes that inevitably slip through your fingers.

"Stay inside me just a little longer," you whisper, burying your head in the hollow of his neck where you can feel the rapid rhythm of his pulse. His arms close around you, holding you tight against him, and you hear him purr against the hair on the crown of your head. He rocks you gently.

The silence welcomes you both into its embrace and you savour it like a treasure. Your body aches in the sweetest way, your insides throbbing around his softening manhood.

And around you, nothing exists anymore.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I've changed, you know." His hoarse voice vibrates against you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You keep them closed.

You're not sure if Aemond has really changed. Aemond is ruthless, cold, brutal, calculating, merciless. Cruel. You're not sure if Aemond can ever change, but he shows unusual tenderness, and maybe, just maybe, you allow yourself to doubt. You indulge in the illusion.

Perhaps Vhagar's death has broken something in him.

Perhaps it's true, perhaps he's not the same man anymore.

He's not sorry for what he has done. He never will be. He's too proud, even if you can catch the glimmer of remorse that colours his icy eyes when he is not looking at you.

Does he think of your little brother? Is he haunted by the memory of him, as you have been for so many years?

Does he think of the innocents he killed without flinching, the blood he spilled in the Riverlands that now stains the burned grass?

Is his sanity slowly being eaten away by the atrocities he has committed with his own hands?

He has changed. You are not sure if he's changed for the better or for the worse, but he has indeed.

Daemon has changed too. So has Rhaenyra. So has Jace.

You too have changed.

For war changes people, war makes them weary and wary, it shatters something in the body that will never be the same again. It hollows out the roundness of the cheeks, it deepens the dark circles under the eyes, it fades the sparkle of childhood that remains in the eyes.

Aemond seems to be waiting for an answer, but the words remain stuck in your throat. I know, you want to whisper, I know, but suddenly you've forgotten how to speak. His thumb draws the soft line of the underside of your breast.

The future terrifies you more than ever. You had made peace with your past, you had come to a conclusion that, even if it pained you, had given you some respite.

Seeing your uncle alive had reawakened your demons.

Spending the night in the embrace of his arms had revived everything you had buried deep, deep down.

The past had returned, creeping towards you, gnawing at the corners of your heart and at what remained of your sense of stability and certainty.

Now you are plunged into doubt.

Just as you were a little over three years ago, when you were informed of his death, when you had to learn to live with the choice that had never really been given to you.

Just as three years ago, when you noticed a familiar lilac-tinged blue in Rhaegar's eyes.

Like when you had to live with the memories that haunted you, that were slowly eating away at what little sanity you had left.

Like when you finally decided to leave for the North.

Aemond seems to sense your anguish, because his fingers get lost in your hair.

"What are we going to do now?"

Finally, you dare to utter the inevitable words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since you woke up, words you've swallowed so many times this morning. You immediately blame yourself.

Saying them only makes them more real.

They tear at something in the imaginary cocoon you've built for yourselves. You bury your face against his skin, breathe in his scent, as if you never want to forget him.

For you know how fleeting memories can be.

You remember how his face faded with each passing day.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to experience it a second time.

"We could leave," Aemond replies, as his fingers venture to your jaw, caressing the line of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles.

He's so pragmatic, as always.

Even in this situation.

Even now.

It makes you want to shake him.

"We could run away," he says again. His gaze, fixed in the distance, falls on you at the same moment. "To Essos. Pentos. No one would know who we are." You close your eyes, and let his hoarse voice lull you into silence. "To start our own family, the three of us."

You know he is not serious. Even though he looks at you with such insistence, with that flame that flickers in the centre of his iris.

You relish his fantasy, this impossible dream.

But you can't leave your family; Essos is not Winterfell. There, they knew where to find you. They knew you were safe. They knew you were sheltered between the walls of the northern castle, under the heavy furs, under the protection of Cregan Stark.

Essos is the unknown.

You cannot let your mother lose her only daughter, not after everything she has already lost.

The itch is familiar, tickling at the corners of your eyes. There was a time when you thought you'd lost that sensitivity. When you thought the war had left you cold, incapable of feeling anything. Incapable of crying.

"You know I can't." Your nose rubs against his milky skin, made clammy by sweat. You keep your eyes closed because you feel the weight of his cold gaze on you, his furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you blankly, his lips pursed in a long, thin line. You don't have the courage to meet his accusing gaze, let alone the wounded look on his face as you crush all his illusory dreams into dust.

When did you become the more pragmatic of the two?

When did you become the one responsible for bringing Aemond back to reality?

It used to be you, the one who filled your mind with unrealistic dreams, the one who dreamed of stories and fairy tales, back when you could still dream. "They need me, you know that."

A sneer stretches across your uncle's lips as he swallows a chuckle that sounds more like an ironic growl. You feel his whole body tense against yours, a sign that he's holding back his annoyance.

A sign that he has something to say, that he's upset, but doesn't quite know how to put it into words.

"Like they needed you back then?" he replies scathingly, bitterness on the tip of his tongue. "When they used you as a bargaining chip to achieve their ends, hm?"

Your red cheeks burn with shame, as if he'd slapped you. You don't move, merely swallow hard. You know there's something right about what he is saying, but you don't want to admit it.

You've done your duty.

You've done what is expected of you as a daughter.

It was not a question of them using you. It never was.

It was your duty, only your duty, what you were always meant to perform, wasn't it?

And yet a small voice in the back of your head had already given you a similar speech, a few years ago, but you had tried to silence it.

You refused to let Aemond admit it. You refuse to allow him to do it. He had no idea, no right to criticise your family when he'd acted like that.

When he has done what he has done.

He has no idea what it is like to be a daughter.

You don't answer, and silence falls between you again.

You wish so desperately that he could go home with you; that he could tell them that he's sorry.

You wish it were easier.

There is no one left to wait for Aemond but you, but his son, you know that. His family has been decimated, as has yours in some ways, though you still have your parents and your older brother.

For your uncle, there's nothing left but the shadow of his existence, the shadow of who he once was, long ago.

You let your hand trace the side of his throat, your nose buried against it, your lips hovering over his skin. You lean against him, your body on top of his, pressed together as if you were afraid to let him go.

"You could come with me instead," you whisper, but you refuse to meet his gaze. There's something shameful in the words you've just spoken aloud, something naive, and your burning cheeks are proof of your embarrassment.

Almost imperceptibly, he clenches beneath you, holding his breath. This is a bad idea and you feel stupid. Naive to have dared to suggest something like this.

His voice purrs in a hm that vibrates against you. He's about to say something. He searches for words. "You know that -"

"I know." You cut him off sharply - a little more than you would have liked, your eyes raised to silence him.

You know what he thinks.

He thinks that Rhaenyra will never be his queen. He thinks he will never bend the knee to his eldest sister and her authority, which he doesn't recognise.

He thinks that with the death of Aegon, with the death of the children his brother fathered with Helaena, the throne belongs to him.

And you are aware of his ambitions. You know how perfectly the conqueror's crown fits his head. You know how it sets off the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. You remember the look of greed in his eyes every time he stared at the Iron Throne, you remember the look of pride on his face every time he scorned anyone who dared to question his decisions as Prince Regent.

You know how mercilessly he made the soldiers at Harrenhal kneel, forcing them to contemplate their impending deaths. You know the terror he has sown throughout the Riverlands.

Even in the Seven Hells you could have found more mercy than at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond may have changed, but you're not sure he's changed enough to put aside the pride that is consuming him from within.

You take a deep breath. "You don't really have a choice, qybor."

Fearing his reaction, you curl into a fetal position, your back to him, your knees drawn up to you. You close your eyes. You wait for his frustration.

You wait for his sentence.

You know that he is aware that he has no choice.

He has only two options: swallow his pride or sink back into the abyss, disappear into the dark meanders of oblivion.

Rhaegar needed his father, of course, but you found him a father in Cregan Stark.

That was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

There was no way you would give up what family you had left.

For Rhaegar needed his grandparents and his uncle even more.

Behind you, you feel your uncle's hand slip under your tunic and around your body, pulling you against him. He presses his bare chest against your back, tucking your head under his chin. His hand caresses your stomach, then his fingers brush the base of your breast.

"You know she will never be my queen. You know the throne belongs to -" But he lets the words drop without finishing the sentence, the knowledge of what he was about to say hanging in the air between you.

As long as he remains alive, will the embers of war never truly be extinguished?

You don't know, but you accept the risk.

You close your eyes, as if you're about to jump into the icy depths with both feet.

"The rest is up to you, Aemond," you whisper, barely audible. "And if you have truly changed, then you will know how to make the right choice."

He says nothing.

You savour the last few minutes of illusion you have left.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The fear of making the wrong choice never really leaves you, but your mother chases your fears away, as she so often did when you were a child, tucking one of your dark curls behind your ear. She has her distinctive little smirk on her lips, the one that pulls the corner of her lips up towards her nose.

The same one Lucerys had, you think sadly.

You still miss him, even after all this time, and sometimes you wonder what kind of young man he would have become.

"You're a clever girl, my sweet clever girl," she whispers against your forehead as she cradles you in her arms. She's as beautiful as ever, as gentle with you as ever, despite the years, despite the wear and tear of war that has hardened her features and hollowed her cheeks. "And I know you have made the right decision." She lifts your chin with her forefinger to look into your eyes, and you feel like you're turning back into that shy, insecure girl who disappeared somewhere in the violence of the war all those years ago.

"And if it should turn out that you were wrong... Daemon will be there to intervene. You know he is just waiting for that." You roll your eyes at her attempt at humour, and she plants a kiss on your forehead.

For a split second, you truly are that carefree little girl again.

But behind your mother's humour lie fragments of reality that make your laughter bitter.

The news of your husband's survival remains a hazy blur in your mind. Sometimes you're not sure if this conversation really occurred or if you're dreaming.

You're not sure if what's around you, if the night you spent in Aemond's arms, is real or an invention of your sick mind.

Sometimes you're not really conscious of the events or how long they lasted, the lump in your stomach grows back, and once again you're destined to carve half-moons marks in the palms of your hands to soothe the tension in your body.

You told your mother first because you knew she'd be more understanding. As a mother, as a woman, she knows the meaning behind certain silences, the weight of words, the unspoken words that float between sentences.

You know she can understand your pain and your doubts, but also your love and your compassion.

She was shocked when you told her that her younger brother was still alive. She smoothed her dress, paced back and forth, then took the time to sit down, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes riveted to your face, looking for clues that would betray what you were thinking, what you might be hiding. She was afraid that he had hurt you. She was afraid that he would rip you away from her, just as he had once ripped your little brother away from her.

Her fingers had gently taken your hand and her thumb had drawn little circles on the back of your hand to comfort you. She listened to you first as you confessed everything.

Where you were that night when you didn't come home.

Who you were with.

And then she took you in her arms. She reassured you. Soothed you.

You had been so afraid of disappointing her, of disappointing all of them, that the tension paralysing your body had finally loosened and you burst into tears.

Things had proved more complicated with Daemon. When he learned that his nephew was alive, that he wasn't forgotten forever in the deep waters of the lake near Harrenhal, he refused to believe you. He was furious. He said he had seen him fall, that he was the one who had taken his life, tearing the sky apart.

You didn't know where to look, and it was in your mother's eyes that you sought support, comfort, anything in the face of your stepfather's rage. You could feel on you the look of disappointment of your brother, Jace, as he held his shoulders up and his chin high. He wanted to prove that one day he would be a good king. With his jaw clenched, he said nothing, looking at you as if you were suddenly so foreign to him. He probably didn't know what to say, for fear of being clumsy, for fear of unintentionally hurting you, even more than by his lack of support.

You know it wasn't his fault.

He simply couldn't understand.

The words stuck in your throat and you found yourself unable to speak, pearls glittering in the corners of your eyes while you waited impatiently for the final blow.

The final death knell that would seal your disgrace in everyone's eyes.

After all you'd endured.

Daemon stood before you, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hard. He was staring at you as if you'd committed the ultimate treason, and you knew he was controlling himself to keep his anger from exploding. "You're going to bring him to me," he had hissed, his hand closing over your shoulder.

" You will lure him here and he will be put to the sword." His tone left no room for argument. With the tension growing in your stomach, you sought your mother's compassionate look to calm you. You could see the fury in your stepfather's eyes, and also a mixture of fear and feelings of betrayal. You knew that, deep down, he was afraid for you because he considers you his daughter. Because Baela and Rhaena are like sisters to you.

It was his reaction you feared most, not your mother's. His fingers dug into your skin, the floor slipping out from under you, the room swaying dangerously, and your mother had come to your rescue, trying to calm things down with her usual diplomacy.

You can't quite remember the words your stepfather said; in anger he muttered something that sounded like are you really thinking of becoming his whore again? and the words hurt like hell, but you tried to swallow the pain.

Endure, hold your head high. That was what you had learned.

Your mother had suggested you go back to your room or spend some time with Rhaegar, her fingers gently stroking your dark locks, and as soon as you left the throne room you could hear their voices echoing through the door.

They were arguing.

Over you.

Because of you, again.

You took a deep breath and returned to the gardens, where your two stepsisters were making your son laugh by playing with him. They had fun running around in the damp grass to the applause of Baela's little daughter, who clapped her little hands in delight.

Your fingers were still trembling when you joined them.

In the end a solution was found, for your mother feared losing you a second time.

She remembered what had happened to Laenor, your father, when he had grown tired of the court.

She remembered what had happened to Helaena, your sweet aunt, when she could no longer bear to suffer.

It was her worst nightmare to see you torn from her again, now that she had the chance to hold you in her arms every day, to protect you again, to see you grow again.

It was her worst nightmare to see her only daughter, her only daughter and the second of her only surviving children, taken from her.

You and Jace were all she had left of her own blood.

After long negotiations with Daemon, you had managed to bargain for your husband's life in exchange for strict conditions; increased surveillance, no bonding with a new dragon, no carrying of weapons, and the assurance that he would be executed if there was the slightest doubt about him. You proposed that you and he leave the capital, with your son as well. To return to Dragonstone. To start over on a new, blank page in a book that was already too damaged.

For you, it was also a way to ease the tensions between your family and Aemond, and perhaps find a more intimate life with your husband and son.

Rhaenyra had declared that this was the best solution: a guarantee for her to have you by her side again, a guarantee for her that you would be there.

You had been afraid of Aemond's reaction, afraid that his ego would not bear it; that he would refuse, that he would rather sentence himself to his own death than to an existence as a prisoner within his own family, condemned to live as a shadow of the man he had once been in exchange for seeing his son grow up.

But in the end, wasn't he doomed to live as a shadow of the man he had once been, anyway?

He would never be the rider of Vhagar again.

He would never be the ruthless Prince Regent again.

He would never again be the second in line to the throne, the second son greedily waiting for fate to turn in his favour.

He hadn't been all of that for a good three years, lurking in the cold, gloomy corridors of Harrenhal like a lonely monster.

And if he went back, if he rejected your proposal, he would have condemned himself to eternal solitude at the side of a witch you would rather forget.

He had no choice, for he would never be that Aemond again.

When you joined your husband at the meeting place, you were relieved to see him swallow his pride and accept. It was difficult, but you convinced him.

For Rhaegar, for his son.

Aemond had suggested that you run away, far away from everything, and you almost hesitated. Running away would have allowed you to forget, of course.

But your deepest wounds had begun to heal. You had begun to be able to face the ghosts that haunted King's Landing, the ghosts that haunted Dragonstone.

To stop there was tempting, and yet so frightening at the same time.

The unknown terrified you. You needed familiarity now, something to fall back on, for you were so tired.

Now you can't help bringing your thumb to your lips, nibbling the skin at the corner of your fingernail with the tip of your teeth as you walk away from Rhaenyra. A handmaiden brings you Rhaegar, and you struggle to breathe.

You inhale.

You exhale.

The thick tuft of brown hair makes you smile. The sight of your son is enough to give you the courage to walk with a more confident stride. It's as if you were filled with new strength, for you know that he needs you more than anyone else. And for him, you've promised yourself to stay strong.

As soon as you reach him, you kneel and plant a kiss on his plump cheeks.

He's growing up so fast that sometimes you wish you could stop time.

"There's someone who'd like to meet you, sweet boy," you explain, and you can recognise your mother's inflection in your own voice. Sweet boy. Rhaegar looks at you with big, round, questioning eyes, and you wonder if he senses your anxiety, because he takes your hand between his tiny fingers.

"Who, muña ?" he babbles, striding down the cobbled path in the middle of the gardens, hopping on his clumsy little legs, and you smile at his carefree attitude. He stops to watch the bees foraging, bends down to pick up a flower and gives it to you. He's always so curious, so full of life. He's a ray of sunshine that brightens your dull days. You finally understand your mother, the agonising fear she has of losing you. You finally understand the horror she experienced when she lost her four other children.

You also finally understand why Helena threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast.

The thought of what Daemon did still revolts you, and you can't imagine anyone hurting your boy like that.

You turn around. Rhaenyra is still there, in the distance, her crown on her head, her hands crossed in front of her on the heavy fabric of her dress, watching over you. She won't move, a comforting, discreet presence.

A stone bench awaits you by the fountain, on which two cushions have been arranged. A dessert buffet has been set up under the gazebo and you immediately spot your favourite cakes, the strawberry one, the blackberry jam one, and you look down at your son. He hasn't noticed them yet, or he would have already run over, dipped his finger in the whipped cream and stolen a blueberry from one of the tarts, his innocent expression on his face.

He is definitely a lot like you. Mischievous and clever. An angelic air. He is an easy-going child who never throws a tantrum.

Who understands quickly, too.

"I love you. I love you more than anything, you know that, don't you, young boy?" your tone is soft, and you kneel down in front of him, your hands on his small shoulders to emphasise the seriousness of your discussion. You search for your words, hesitating. How do you tell a three-year-old that his father, his dead father, is back from the dead and about to meet him?

Of course, Rhaegar knows that his birthfather was valiant, that his birthfather rode the greatest dragon in the world, that his birthfather died in battle.

But there is so much he doesn't know, so much he will inevitably learn as he grows up, and it is precisely that future that frightens you. You hug him as if you're afraid of losing him.

"Princess."

The deep voice of your sworn protector echoes behind you, and you straighten your skirt.

You know he is there.

You know you will see him the moment you turn around.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Aemond Targaryen stands behind your sworn protector, surrounded by two guards. His hands are bound in front of him.

It is so strange to see your uncle in this vulnerable position. He who for so long has been on the other side, he who for so long has been the one who bent others to his will. He looks at you harshly, and you almost feel the need to apologise.

But you know it is a matter of caution.

You know that Daemon, you know that Jace and even your mother would never have agreed to bring him in if such precautions hadn't been taken.

You admire his resilience, his determination. You admire his ability to hold his head high, to be confident, despite the fact that he is being treated like a common prisoner, about to be sentenced to death.

You struggle to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat.

"Who's that, muña?" Aemond's eyes leave you and immediately drop to the small figure that has appeared beside you, reaching for your hand, huddling against your leg, shy and worried.

Immediately, your husband's icy gaze, his lilac-coloured eyes, soften.

"Thank you, Sir Rowan. You may leave us."

Despite the worry on his face, your sworn protector nods, unties his prisoner's hands and walks back to your mother, accompanied by the other two guards. You watch them leave, and a strange silence fills the space between you and your uncle.

He doesn't look at you; his eyes are riveted to your son, whom he observes with wonder. He looks as if he is admiring the most beautiful and fascinating discovery he has ever seen. You look down to see Rhaegar's reaction, and he seems as intimidated as he is hypnotised by that gaze, by that blue and purple eye so similar to his owns, by this man looking at him as if he were one of the most marvellous things in the world.

"Gods, he's perfect," Aemond murmurs as he looks up at you, emerging from his trance. He comes closer to embrace you. And for once, there is something other than his usual brutal possessiveness and ferocity when his arms close around you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond is shy at first. Awkward.

He's shy and amazed as he follows your son's every move with his good eye. From time to time, his gaze rests on you, as if to make sure he's not dreaming. As if to make sure he is doing right, seeking your approval.

Rhaegar is shy too, at first.

When he sits on your lap, he snuggles up to you, buries his face in your neck, one of your locks curled in his chubby little hand and he rubs it against his nose. From time to time, he turns to give his father a curious look, recognising his own eyes in the unfamiliar face before him.

Aemond's expression grows gentler, a softness never seen in his features before.

Once he has tamed the stranger, the little boy pecks at the blueberries in the tart in front of him. He shakes his legs, hitting your knees in painful little jabs, and your arm wraps around his body to hold him down.

Rhaegar loves cake, and the sugar may be coaxing him, for he's regaining his appetite for talking.

"He really does have my eyes," Aemond whispers incredulously, and his voice, still foreign to his son's ears, causes the little boy to lift his head.

" It is definitely the only thing he has inherited from you," you reply, teasing him with a small smile at the corner of your lips.

Soon Rhaegar finishes the blueberry tart, the cream smeared over the bottom of his face and the tip of his nose.

"He inherited that from you, that is certain." Aemond grins, pointing with his long chin at the boy's voracious appetite for cakes and pastries.

You have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That your husband is really standing in front of you, with your son, like a normal family.

That he was truly trying to tell a joke.

This form of domesticity is so alien to your relationship, and yet so pleasant, that you find yourself thinking that perhaps you have made the right decision, indeed, if every day can be like this.

"Your muña deserves some cake too, what do you say, little one?"

Rhaegar giggles. Aemond cuts a slice of your favourite cake, the one with the strawberries, and puts it on your plate.

You blush. After all these years, he hasn't forgotten which one is your favourite.

You can't even really whisper a thank you because this apparent domesticity, this feeling of completeness, this interlude of happiness makes you uneasy. Anxious.

You have the feeling that at any moment you'll be plunged back into the horror of what you went through all those years ago.

You have the feeling that at any moment the Gods will be cruel and snatch away this happiness that you've barely been able to taste, leaving only the memory of its sweet taste on your lips.

You breathe in and out, as you often do when you feel your palpitations rising in your chest.

"Do you... do you want to take him on your lap?" you ask your uncle with shyness, your hand stroking Rhaegar's thick brown curls. Aemond looks at you as if you have spoken in a foreign language. Lips parted, he is about to say something, but not a sound escapes his lips. His lonely eye travels from you to your son, from your son to you, in silence.

"I don't know if -"

You can hear the doubt in his voice, and it's almost touching to see him lose his confidence in front of his own son, to see him so nervous and unsure of himself.

You let out a little laugh, not in mockery, obviously, just full of tenderness.

You know what he's thinking.

He's afraid of frightening him.

He's afraid of harming him.

"You won't hurt him, Aemond."

He answers nothing. He still doesn't like to look vulnerable, unsure, and you know it has to do with his childhood. With all he has kept bottled up inside him all these years. He will need time.

Your eyes fall back to the little boy sitting in your lap, and you draw his attention to yourself by stroking the curls on his forehead.

"Do you want to go to Aemond for a while? To kepus?"

you correct yourself immediately, and Rhaegar nods in agreement.

You are amazed at how easily he slips off your legs to run to his father, to pull himself onto his lap, when only a few hours ago he was so intimidated by the presence of this stranger with the eyepatch.

Your uncle automatically puts his arm around his waist to make him feel comfortable, his new role taking root in him. His fingers reach for the cloth on the table, and he wipes Rhaegar's face, who can't help but burst out laughing at his father's clumsy gestures.

For a split second you are lost in contemplating the horizon, the stillness of the sea. You taste the sea breeze on your face.

And then you turn your head towards the cobbled path where the guards and your sworn protector are still stationed.

Your mother is no longer there, and you notice that you have not at any time felt the need to seek comfort in her presence.

You smile, for in the end you know you've made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Dragonstone, 6 months later.

When you walk the corridors of the place that saw you grow up, you are no longer haunted by the ghosts and their incessant cries. A kind of peace has settled over you, a return to the pleasant familiarity you've waited so long for.

You still think of Luke, of course. Of Luke and Joff and little Aegon and Viserys, your brothers you will never see grow old.

But you no longer feel their disapproving glances at every step you take. You are no longer kept awake by their cries, by their tears, by the remorse that twists your stomach.

You no longer blame yourself.

Perhaps you've finally learnt to make peace with yourself.

The heavy door of the bedroom you share with Aemond is half open, and you slip your head into the doorway, piqued by curiosity.

Snuggled on your husband's lap, Rhaegar is staring at the pages of a large book, the corners of which you can guess are horned, the cover worn, from being carried everywhere. You can imagine the jam stains that mark the paper with children's fingerprints. You know exactly which page is missing, the one you and Aemond accidentally tore out and hid so the Septa wouldn't notice, so many years ago.

It is a book about dragons, the very one the two of you used to read hidden under the table when you were so young and innocent, long before the torment of war.

Without a sound, you lean against the doorframe and contemplate for a moment the perfect vision before you.

You don't have the cruelty to disturb them.

"This one is Vhaegar!" shouts Rhaegar, and you hold your breath, searching Aemond's face for any hint that might betray his reaction. The mention of his former dragon is still a sensitive subject for him, you know it.

"Yes, that's Vhagar." he pauses. "She was brave."

From the corner of his eye, Aemond spots your silhouette in the faint glow of the corridor, and his attention lingers on you for a moment. He's almost embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable, intimate moment, but you smile tenderly to encourage him.

"And big!" the little boy adds, energetically raising his arms to the sky to emphasise his words.

"Yes, and big." There's a suspended moment of silence where the words hang in the air, and then your husband gently ruffles his son's hair. It's a tender sight to see them bond like this, and your heart fills with happiness.

Taking a step forward, you step into the light of the room and Rhaegar expresses his joy at seeing you. You smile back at him and approach the chair where Aemond sits, your son on his lap.

Your uncle's hand instantly rests on the curve of your belly, which he still stares at with the same protective instinct, the same fascination, as the day you told him the news. His eyes sparkle.

"Your daughter is restless today."

He looks up at you, not without lingering for a moment on your breasts and their new shape.

"My daughter?" he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"I'm convinced it's a girl. You reply, smiling wryly, and take a seat in the armchair next to the one where Aemond and your son are sitting, facing the fireplace. "And she took after her father, given her temper," you tease him, your hand on the top of your rounded belly to soothe the baby growing there.

Rhaegar's eyes close slowly. Nestled against the chest of the man who, just a few months ago, was still a stranger, he fights sleep, he fights to stay awake, but tiredness quickly overcomes him. And then he falls asleep, his mouth half open, the movements of his breath making his chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Aemond finally gets up. You follow his movements with your eyes as he approaches you, the child in his arms, and he plants a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm going to put him to bed. I'll be right back." He straightens and lowers his voice.

"I wouldn't fail in my duty and neglect my wife." The heat rises to your cheeks, turning them red at the implication of what awaits you tonight. You're already wet between your thighs at the thought.

But you nod in agreement and watch him walk away.

You are left alone in the silence of the room. The only sound around you is the steady crackling of the fire.

It's strange, you think, to be back on Dragonstone, in the familiarity of the stones you've spent most of your life between, after getting used to the idea of not surviving the war.

To the idea of dying from a broken heart.

To the idea of dying, the umpteenth victim of the vicious spiral of conflict that has torn your family apart.

And yet here you are.

With your own family.

For once you have hope for the future. You hear the cries of your little brother, lost in the storm so long ago, but they are quickly replaced by the laughter of a happy memory.

And finally, you have the absolute confirmation that you have made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** ***

Thank you so much for reading!! <3

Tag list : @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis (I'm tagging you since you asked for it ❤️)

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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julilovesyou444 · 10 months

Text

looks good anyways ~ tom kaulitz

background ~ you and your band were on tour with tokio hotel. you and tom became close friends, and were now getting ready for a show together.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, steamy makeout sesh, you and tom being cuties 😚

english isnt my first language, dont bully me if there are grammar or spelling mistakes😭🙏 also I love ur guys comments they r so sweet

lowkey inspired by “right side of my neck”- by Faye webster

you were in your dressing room of the venue, blowing on your freshly painted nails.

you spun yourself around in the chair to watch Tom mess with his hair. He was close to the vanity mirror, trying to tie it up in a ponytail. Tom would occasionally get ready for shows with you, but recently, it turned into an every-show habit.

you didn’t know what was up with him today, but he couldn’t get his hair the exact way he wanted it, and it was making him beyond pissed. He put his dreads up in a pony tail, put a little headband and hat on, and stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. Then he would aggressively rip the hat and headband off. This was probably the fourth time he did that. He threw his hat on the floor and buried his face into his hands. he groaned loudly. He looked back up into the mirror, making eye contact with you.

“Sometimes I fucking hate my hair. Like most of the times it’s really nice, and it gets me a lot of girls, but sometimes it’s just a fucking bitch to maintain. Today, it looks horrible and it isn’t doing what I want it to be doing at all. I wish I could change it”, he grumbled.

“well, I think it looks good anyway you put it.”, you quietly and sweetly replied, now gazing up at him.

his eyes immediately softened as he looked back at you, a small smile growing on his previously angry face. You tapped the top of your fingernails to make sure the polish was dry. It was. You stood up and walked up behind him. You were standing slightly aside from him, and you were both looking in the mirror now.

“Give me the hair tie.”, you said, holding your hand out.

He hesitated.

“Why?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t fight me on this, just give it to me. Please.”, you replied, pushing your hand closer to him.

He sighed and placed the hair tie into your hand. You stepped back and looked at all of his hair. He had a lot. You put the hair tie on your wrist before starting to grab his hair and group it together. You could feel him tense up under your touch.

“Relax, it’ll be fine. I’ve got this, trust me.”, you reassured him. You had a good hold of a good ponytail, so you started to tie it up. It took a minute because his hair was so long and thick, and for a second, you thought the tie might break. luckily for you, you were able to put it up and it looked nice.

“whatcha think?”, you questioned, stepping back into his view. He turned his head each way, observing your amazing ponytail skills. he smiled.

“thanks.”, he mumbled.

he sorta just stood there, almost waiting for you to do something.

“do you want me to do the rest?”, you asked, a little confused.

“Oh, sorry I thought you were gon-“

“No, no, it’s okay, I will. I just didn’t know if you wanted me to or not.”, you put your hand on his forearm and gave him a small smile before grabbing the head-band off the vanity. You grabbed him and turned him to face you.

“Close your eyes.”, you murmured as you pulled the head band down over his head. You pulled his ponytail through it, and then put the headband back up so that it rested over his eyebrows and at the top of his ears. He opened his eyes. You could tell he was trying to hide his smile. You turned around and bent over to grab his hat. You pulled his hair through the little opening in the back of the hat and placed it on his head, tugging on it slightly.

“alright, what do you think?”, you questioned.

He turned back to the mirror and finally let himself smile.

“What would I do without you?”, he smirked, taking a step closer to you. you tried to hide your nervousness.

“hmm....I dont know. what would you do without your own personal, very professional, hair stylist? ”, you pretended to think and you replied in a sarcastic manner. he shoved your shoulder playfully and mumbled a “whatever.” You were about to walk away, you started to turn but he grabbed your shoulder and stopped you from leaving.

You cocked your head to the side, like a confused dog. He used his hand to move you to face him again.

“I’m on stage soon, Tom. I’ll see you after the show. Unless you need me to help you with something else?”

“Dont you want your reward?”, he asked, looking mischievous as his tongue played with his lip ring.

“reward? I don’t need a reward for helping out a friend.”, you nervously chuckled as his hand still lingered on your bare shoulder.

“friend?”

“that’s what we are, no?”, you stared up at him, trying not to get lost in his dark eyes.

“do you want it, or not?” his hand trailed up from your shoulder to your jaw, resting his thumb on your cheek. You could feel myself start to blush.

“what is it?”, you managed to whisper, despite your stomach doing backflips. Tom and you were friends, close friends. You would jokingly flirt, but this didn’t feel like a joke. At least not to you. you knew the type of person Tom was though. It was no mystery to you that Tom was attractive. You just didn’t think he saw you in that way.

“Wanna find out?”, he breathed out. Now leaning in so close that your noses were only a couple inches apart. You watched as his eyes darted from yours down to your lips, the ones you were anxiously biting.

You felt the hand that wasn’t on your face place itself on your hip, moving you a little closer to him. the tension between you two was unfathomable.

you nodded. a little grin appeared on his face.

“use your words, sweet girl.”, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

“please.”, you whispered, your eyes looking up at him with the most desire he had ever seen.

with that, he leaned further down and let your lips meet. it was so gentle and soft, there was something so pure about it. the kiss was addicting, yet somehow you managed to pull away. worry glossed over your eyes.

“I can’t just be some random hookup. You know me; you know I’m not that type of girl.”, you whispered, looking down. his hand lifted my chin back up to look at him once again.

“who said you're some random hookup?”

“c’mon tom, I know who you are and what you do.”

“you’re right, but you could never just be a random hookup to me… thought you knew that.”, he sounded serious, which he normally never was.

That was all you needed to smash your lips back onto his into a kiss that was much more rough than the previous one.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss. He moved his hands to your waist, pulling you in as well. He slowly moved his hands from your waist to your hips. Your tongues were fighting for dominance. He began to back you up into the wall, and you let him. You took your hands and placed them on either side of his jaw. Tom took one hand off your hips and put it on the wall before practically slamming you into it. Luckily for you, his hand protected your head from hitting against the wall hard. A little moan escaped your throat. You felt him smirk into the kiss. Cocky bastard. He was leaned over you, kissing you as if it would be the last time.

He moved from your mouth down to you neck, leaving kisses all over. He started sucking on it a little bit, making you gasp a tiny bit. He pulled away.

“you like that huh?”

“just fucking kiss me.”, you said before pulling him back to your lips. He bit bottom of your lip slightly, yearning to hear all the pretty sounds you were capable of. of course, you gave him one. You kept kissing, and it felt like if it went on for just a couple minutes longer, then it probably would've turned into something else.

There was a quick knock on the door and then it was swung open quickly. The stage manager walked in as you flinched and pulled away, unfortunately not fast enough for the person to not see.

“Um… you’re on in 3 minutes. Dont be late.”, they said.

“Of course, I’ll be out in a second.”, you sheepishly replied. They gave both you and Tom a sorta criticizing look before walking out.

“Great.”, you sighed, burying your face in your hands.

“Not that bad, it’s happened to me loads of times.”, Tom tried to comfort you. You shot him a glare.

“Loads of times?”, you raised an eyebrow.

“Well… maybe not loads, but you’re fine! Trust me.”

“Okay well I have to go… I’ll see you later?”, you asked, hoping he would say yes.

“You know it.”, Tom responded, looking you up and down. You walked out before he could see you blushing.

Your band and Bill were waiting by the door that led to the stage.

“Where have you been?!”, your band mate yelled.

“Sorry!! I got caught up in my dressing room.”

You heard someone’s shuffling footsteps behind you.

“Tom! Where have you been?”, Bill asked.

“And what is on your face?”, he added.

I looked at Tom, who has lipstick smeared on his lips. His hand flew to his face and he started rubbing his mouth.

"Must be from something i ate, i don't know.", he mumbled, looking away.

"Okay, whatever. We will leave you guys, good luck! I knowyou'ree gonna do great.", Bill said to you and your band before dragging Tom away with him.

The stage manager came over and let you guys know that you had 1 minute.

You stood by the door with your band, trying to ignore how flustered you were.

"Your lipstick is a little smeared.", one of your bandmates told you before helping you wipe it off.

"Oh, thanks."

"Hey...your lipstick kinda looks like the same thing that was on Tom's-"

"UM- we're on!! Lets go, lets go, lets go guys!", you interrupted. You opened the door and as your bandmate walked past you, they raised one of their eyebrows. You smiled nervously. You couldn't believe that you and Tom Kaulitz, your friend, the guitarist of the band you were on tour with, had just made out. It felt like you had just made a mistake, but you couldn't help but want more.

a/n~ ahhh this one is a mixture of cute and hot i think?! thank you for the love on my last oneshot, it was the first thing i had posted to tumblr and some ppl left some nice comments <3 also... bill smut is in the making LOLLLL stay tuned !

#tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #georg listing #gustav schäfer #2000s core

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weird-is-life · 1 year

Text

Sweet talk

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: You tell Spencer how handsome you think he is and he gets flustered

Warnings: use of y/n and petnames, fluff

Words: 0.6k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm sorry this is trash lmao

Spencer is reading on the other side of the couch and you are, well were reading too. You stopped for a second to give your eyes a little rest, but Spencer's pretty face distracted you.

You are now just looking at him, wondering how can he be so handsome. It's actually really unfair, that he gets to look like that.

The sun shining from outside is making it even worse for you, because it perfectly highlights his features and it makes his gorgeous brown locks look even prettier.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Spencer breaks you out of your thoughts, his eyebrows are drawn up in a question. Your cheeks go pink, but you are only a little embarrassed about getting caught.

"Nothing" you mumble, before you break into the biggest grin,"it's just, that you are so pretty!"

It's now Spencer's turn to blush. Suddenly, you realise you don't say how handsome he is to him as often as you should, so you make it your mission to tell him how handsome he is right now.

You crawl across the couch to his side and put your legs over his, so you are basically sitting in his lap.

"It is actually unfair, Spence!" you dramatically pout at him, "how did you get so handsome?" you playfully poke his cheek.

"Stop...."Spencer begs, as his cheeks get visibly redder.

"I'm just telling you the truth" you giggle, " I mean, look at you!"

"You have such a beautiful hair, how is it so soft? " you say as you play with it, " and such a lovely skin, have I told you, I'm jealous of it? No? Well, i am" Spencer just shakes his head, you don't know if he's answering your questions or if he's shaking his head to stop your praises.

"Do you know what I also love?" you grin at him.

"What?" his asks, as if he wants you to humor him.

"Your eyes", you say softly, " they are the prettiest ever. I could look at them for hours." You are perhaps being a little dramatic, but it's all true.

"y/n-" Spencer would be lying if he said, he isn't enjoying your sweet words, but he's never had someone say these things to him. Yeah, Derek calls him 'pretty boy', but that's just as a teasing. He knows, when you say it, you mean it and your loving looking eyes are studying him so closely, that he thinks, he might just melt under your gaze.

Spencer is just about to say something, when you speak again,"But most importantly, I love your kind heart and your beatiful mind, it's my favourite thing about you how selfless and caring you are-"

That's it, Spencer can't let you ramble anymore, because he knows, he'll cry if he does. He tackles you gently to the side. "Wha-,"you start.

"Baby, I love the sweet praises, but I m-might just cry, if you continue" Spencer confesses and frankly, he's not far from crying.

"I'm sorry, d-did I say something wrong?" you immediately sober up from your cheery, teasing mood.

"No no, sweetheart. Far from it, it's just- nobody has ever told me all this at once before, i-i guess it feels a little overwhelming hearing all of it, that's all" he explains and your worry fades away a little.

"Really? I didn't say anything wrong? Because if I did, you should tell me Spence-"

"Really, sweetheart."

"Promise?" you ask, just to be sure.

"Promise." He smiles at you and can't help it, so you hug him tightly. " I'm sorry," you mumble into his chest.

"For what? I told you, you didn't do anything wrong."

"For not saying how wonderful you are often enough," you pout.

"But you do, " Spencer argues," you literally told me at least 5 times today, how handsome you think I am."

"Still, it's not enough," you stubbornly reply, which makes Spencer chuckle.

"Okay, pretty girl, whatever you say," he smiles again at you, before pecking your lips.

"I love you, Spence," you tenderly say and fuck, Spencer doesn't know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you.

"I love you more, sweetheart," he replies, eyes almost watering again from your affection. You sigh happily at that and continue to cuddle him. Both of your books long forgotten.

Thank u for reading! Hope you liked it, feedback is always appreciated.

Have a great day☀️peace out

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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femd-archive · 6 months

Note

HIII omg I love your sub satan fic it's so hot 😩 do you accept a request for sub Lucifer who loves being praised?? With Fem reader as well🙏

sorry for taking too long to reply! i've been busy with collage and so, but here it is!

PRETTY BOY

pairing: obey me! shall we date? — lucifer x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

📎 side note: english is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes.

The only thing praises do to Lucifer is fulfill his ego. Makes him act more gracious that he already is as he gives a simple smirk as a response.

But your praise? His cheeks grow red before he even realize, his body starts to tremble and grows hot. «When did he start acting this way because of a human?» He asks himself everytime, but he already knows the answer, and it's because it's you.

Lucifer lets out a sigh as he puts the last archieve of the day in the pile with the others. You look up from your book, smiling as you see him relax back in his chair.

"Are you done?" standing up from the couch, you ask as you walk over to him.

"Yeah, finally" he answers with another sigh as one of his hands starts to undo his tie.

Without even asking ᅳbecause it wasn't necessaryᅳ you take a seat on Lucifer's lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaves a kiss on his cheek, close to his lips.

"Good job, Luci. I'm proud of you and your hard work" you coo softly as you start combing his soft hair with your hands.

His face stays unreadable for a few seconds, before it melts into a soft scowl as he moves to hide in the crock of your neck

"Please love, don't do that" he whispers, yet, with his arms, he pulls you closer to him as to indulge you to keep caressing him.

"Don't do what?" you ask between giggles.

"Saying those sweet words to me" he simply answers, his thumb starting little ministrations in the skin of your hip.

"Why? You deserve to know that you're doing great" you left another kiss on your boyfriend's forehead. "If you need reassurance I'll remind you everyday"

Lucifer stays quiet for a few seconds before speaking again from his hiding spot. "Actually, I think that's gonna make it hard"

You frown. "Make what hard?" you ask, genuinly confused. You move around, trying to pull him away to face you, but in the motion you feel what's hard.

His hard dick pokes the side of your thigh as he thightens the grip of his arms around you, still hiding his embarrassed face from you.

"Luci…did you get hard because of my praise?" you ask, stating the obvious. He didn't need to answer verbally, since his silence already did it for you. You laugh again, embracing him back. "Aww, Luci ~ that's so cute" you coo.

"It's embarrassing" he mutters, pulling away just as much so he can rest his cheek on your chest.

"Well, I think is the cutest thing ever" you leave a kiss on his head. "You're the cutest" you add.

Lucifer slowly pulls apart from you, looking up with cute teary eyes and blushing cheeks. He pouts his lips a little, and you know that's a sing that he wants a kiss.

Taking his face in between your hands, you push your lips against his on a soft kiss. At least, that's how it started. With every second passing by, Lucifer grows more needy and by his state of lust he can't even think of hidding it.

His gloved hands run all over you body, yet doesn't make any further moves, waiting for you to give the first step.

Pulling apart, you say the next words as if you read his mind. "Want me to help you out with your little problem, pretty boy?" you ask as you take his gloves out, followed by his tie.

"Please…" he whispers, black eyes following suit your every move.

"Good boy" you whisper, leaving another kiss on his cheek as your hand travels from his chest to the bulge in his pants.

He hisses softly as you caress his swollen cock over his dressing pants, looking up at you in hopes he gets another kiss. He's not that lucky, since you're busy teasing him where he's more vulnerable now.

"Such a hardworking man, always busy to even take care of himself" you coo softly as you undo his belt, followed by the buttons and the zipper.

Moving his underwear a little, his hard dick finally gets freed, making him gasp at the cold air. "Look at that, all pent up. Poor baby" you whisper, starting to caress him slowly.

Lucifer rests his head on your shoulder as you keep your ministrations slow, moving your hand along his length. He grews impatient, though does nothing about it since he wants to be your good boy.

"Do you always wait for me to take care of you, baby? Bacause you're too tired to do it yourself?" you ask softly, resting your cheek upong his head, your free hand caressing his cheek lovingly.

"Yes…want you to touch me. I love your touch" he whispers back, closing his eyes as he melts in your hands.

"Yeah baby, I know you do" you leave another kiss on his forehead as you start picking your pace. The Avatar of Pride throws his head back, moaning softly as his precum quickly becomes some kind of lube that makes the job easier.

Lucifer's office quickly fills with the wet squelching sounds of his cock and his soft moans that he tries so hard to muffle.

"Keep making those sounds baby. I love how you sound for me" leaving another kiss on his cheek, you chuckle at his embarrassed face and his attempts to hide his moans. "Come on baby, be the good boy you are for me and tell me how good I'm making you feel" besides your praises, your soft command affects his pact mark, and he speaks before he can even think about it.

"You make me feel so good, my love…I've never felt this good in decades. O-only you can make me feel this way" he confesses non-stop.

"Yeah? Only me?" you whisper.

"Only you" he whispers back.

You attack his lips again, finally picking a rather fast pace as your free hands moves under his shirt and starts toying with his chest.

His moans dies on your lips as he pathetically humps your fist, trying to get even more friction that you're giving him, feeling the pleasure in his low stomach as he's about to cum.

"Please darling…" he whines, erratic breathing because of the kiss. "Can I cum? Please, please…" he begs again and again, and you wish anybody could see Lucifer Morningstar in this state, but that's a sight for your eyes only.

"Go ahead love, make a mess for me" you allow along a kiss to his nose.

He spruts ropes of thick cum as you keep whispering in his ear how good he is for you and how well he takes it, making him shout even more embarrassing moans as he hugs you closer, feeling his legs starting to shake.

You stroke him through it until he's finally done, slowly taking away your cum covered hand to hug him back as he calms down.

"Are you okay?" you ask once you notice he's breathing normally again.

"Yeah…" he replies softly, still lightheaded after that strong orgasm.

"Do you want to take a shower and go to sleep, pretty boy?" you question once again as you kiss his forehead lovingly. He looks up at you with tired eyes and a soft smile.

"Yes please"

"Good boy ~"

#obey me! shall we date?#lucifer #lucifer x reader #dom!reader #sub!character #dom reader #sub character #sub!lucifer #sub lucifer #sub!obey me #sub obey me

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currently-reading-a-book · 1 month

Text

A Tale of Two Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The seemingly shy Dr. Spencer Reid is interrupting you at the library, but don't let his quiet demeanor fool you...

Genre: smut

Warning: crime scenes; talking about murder, heated kiss, made up facts (let me know if I forgot something)

Word 1118 Count: words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language. Not proofread.

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

The building was huge. The dull grey walls ran through the whole building, seeming to never stop. You could easily get lost in one of the many departments of the FBI. An outsider would declare this building old and labyrinthine. However, for you, it was home or the closest place to one. Of course, you only have limited access as you’re just a trainee. You could only get inside the school side of the building, but you only needed the library to feel safe. Every possible minute of your free time you spend there. Being surrounded by piles of thick complicated books, trying to study every field of knowledge that exists.

The sternmost part of the library was your favorite. Nobody was there and you could enjoy your peaceful solitude. This was also the part where unsolved closed cases were located. Reading through them, trying to find a repeating pattern, and making an accurate profile. Hoping the police can then find a suspect that fits the criteria. With this method, you have quite a success and solved relatively a lot of cases. That is actually how you got into the special program of the FBI. It all started when you were solving a case of strange murders your local police couldn’t solve. It turned out the priest took justice a bit too personally. You analyzed the victimology of the murders and started to make a profile. The police just needed forensic evidence, which luckily was found quickly.

As you were nearly done with your profile on a murder case, in deep focus, someone disturbed your beloved peace.

“You know sitting on the ground could raise your potential of getting sick by over 18%.” A shy voice stated.

Letting out a breath, you snapped your head around just to see a guy with long blond curly hair. You lowered your glance a bit and saw his ID Card. Your eyes shot open. You're on your feet within a few seconds. “This can’t be true, can it?” you thought.

“You’re Dr. Spencer Reid!”, you said, a bit too enthusiastic.

He backed up a bit, startled by your elation. He hesitantly nods his head. Of course, you heard of him, like everybody did. Maybe you liked him a bit too much, like not everybody did.

He worked at the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI and was also a professor at the academy. One of his most impressive traits was undoubtedly his intelligence. It was hard not to be impressed by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, which set him apart from others. You would often hear amazing stories about how his mind solved cases. He was incredibly skilled at what he did and a huge role model for many, also for you. Working with him was always a dream for many and again of course you dream about it too, maybe even more than others. “Suddenly, you remember your position. You’re a forensics student and he was an agent, even a doctor to begin with. Another point would be that you had a crush and didn’t want to scare him away.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was too excited,” you slowly admitted, locking down.

Embarrassment was written across your chubby face. He took a step closer, gaining confidence. He smelled incredible, masculine yet fresh and pine. Just like you imagined.

“I see you’re trying to solve the “Lucifer Case” and have you gotten any further with it?”, he asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

You look into his eyes, trying to read him. Confused why he would show any interest in you, you try to find out any motive by analyzing his body language, but you can’t find anything too convincing. A moment later he was standing beside you, looking through the files spread around you on the floor.

“I was just about to finish my profile before you interrupted, Doctor Reid”, you told him quietly. Your shyness got the best of you.

“Oh, please call me Spencer, Y/N”, he responded promptly, “and I apologize for interrupting you.”

Your cheeks heated up. Looking at him shocked, he looked back smiling. Too astounded to notice that he had called you by your name, which you hadn’t told him yet.

“Wait, how do you know my name?”, she questioned him embarrassingly late.

His smile got bigger. Even though he was close before, he reduced their distance some more. Now your back was pressing against the bookshelf, unable to escape his intense gaze.

“Your reputation precedes you, Miss Y/L/N.” he hushed seductively.

You swallowed hard, staying quiet. “What could this mean?”, you thought to yourself. Everybody in the study facility always said Spencer Reid was a shy nerd, but now you’re standing in the library with him towering over you.

“I was very impressed by your profile of the Cryptic Puzzle Killings,” he whispered into your ear, “it was a genius profile.” His voice was sending shivers down your spine.

“Doctor Reid,” you stuttered, but then interrupted you.

“it’s Spencer, remember?” You couldn’t think straight anymore. “I was holding back too long, I couldn’t resist any longer Y/N, please forgive me for my bad-mannered roughness,” he muttered as his lip brushed faintly over your neck. This was the moment your breath stopped. Am I dreaming?

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he muttered as he placed sloppy kisses around my neck.

“No, don’t stop.” That was the only thing you could say; his hands feeling too good on you. How he griped your hips pressing your hips more into his clothed erection. Feeling his touch like hot burns all over your body.

“I needed to use this opportunity,” he breathed .

As you wanted to reply to his confession, all of a sudden, another voice was calling for Spencer. Your cheeks flushed even more at the thought of getting caught with Spencer at this situation.

“Spencer, I said I would talk to her!” A stern voice was speaking with such authority.

Spencer quickly stepped back, taking all his warmth with him. You were looking around, overwhelmed with the situation, trying to figure out what was happening. Still feeling hot after your heated situation with Dr. Reid. Spencer was now around two meters apart from you, smiling at you shyly. His duality will kill you someday.

“Hotch I am here,” he quickly yelled back.

Whispering a quick apology to you before the tall black-haired guy showed up before us. His firm eyes looked into yours. He was standing in front of you with a straight face. Frankly, he seemed like a strict guy who didn’t understand any jokes. You’re starting to get the feeling that you did something bad. Your mouth got dry.

“Are you Y/N/Y/L/N?” the man asked you.

You nodded your head skeptically. Unsure of what consequences it might bring.

“I am Aaron Hotch, Supervisory Special Agent and Unit Chief of the BAU,” he continued, “And I am asking you Y/N to join the team of the BAU.”

Your head began to spin.

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leennaan · 4 months

Text

Alessia Russo// Take on the world pt1

Warnings: fluff, mentions of anxiety, sickness-corona, it gets a bit angsty at the end, English isn’t my first language so there could be some grammar and spelling mistakes, it got pretty long so I hope you don’t mind

This story is based on the song „Take on the world“ by You me at six. The song gets a bigger role in the next part so if you haven’t heard it before go check it out🙃

The first time that you had met Alessia was in 2019 when you started your Freshman Year at UNC.

Alessia being a Junior and also Captain of the Tar Heels soon took you under her wing.

The two of you became inseparable in a really short time.

The team started to tease you endlessly but you didn’t mind it.

Lotte was the one that made you realize that you felt a bit more than just friendship for Alessia. She came to you after a really intense practice and basically told you to make a move already. And you did. After you ignored her for a week because you got to much into your own head.

Alessia noticed your absence and forced you to speak to her. It was the best thing that she could’ve done.

„Y/N what happend? Did I do something wrong?“ She had cornered you after the last training session of the week.

You just shook your head, painfully aware of how close she was.

„Just say the word. Whatever it is. I can see, see the pain in your eyes. I care for you. You know.“

„I’m sorry. I just… it just got all too much and than Lotte got me thinking… and you are my best friend I don’t want to lose you…“

„Hey hey breath. Look in my eyes, I will never desert you.“

And you did. Her blue eyes were filled with concern and something else. Something that was reflected in your own. She was just as scared as you.

In that moment you remembered something that your father had said to you when you were younger.

„You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.“

So your took your chance, be damned the consequences.

You leaned in and kissed her, slowly and with out much pressure, prepared for her stepping back or even pushing you away but she didn’t.

Alessia tensed for just a second before she realized what had happened.

She was the one to deepen the kiss, pulling you towards her.

The both of you couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your faces, that ultimately made you both stop the kiss.

„You have no idea how long I wanted to do that.“ Said the blonde when you looked at each other again.

She pulled you into a bone crushing hug. Oh how you loved Alessias hugs.

„If I didn’t make myself clear. I really really like you Lessi.“ You whispered in her ear still scared that she was somehow only messing with you.

„I really like you too. Y/n I would love for you to be my girlfriend, i care so much for you.“

Instead of giving her a verbal answer you just leaned in again and kissed her . This time the blonde striker kissed right back. It felt so right. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it felt so much better than any other kiss you had before.

Lotte would later tease the both of you that she was the reason the two of you had got together but she would shut up when the two of you started to kiss each other in front of her.

„Alright alright I stop, I don’t need to see the two of you shoving each other’s tongue down the other’s throat. O what have I done.“ Lotte shook her head disgusted but the smile on her face betrayed her. You could see how happy the defender was for you and her best friend.

Your first year at college was one of the best years of your life.

You felt like you were on cloud nine. Alessia and you were stronger than ever, wether it be on the field or off.

Alessia scored the goals, you gave the assists.

So when the new year came you were exited for what was coming.

2020 started as good as 2019 had ended. Alessia and you had both been called up for the senior team for the first time.

It was the highlight of your young career, something that you hade dreamed of since you were a little kid. But boy were you nervous and you weren’t the only one.

The day before you were meant to travel to base camp was spent with Alessia.

The whole day you could feel how nervous she was.

At lunch with your friends she zoned out every few minutes, her leg bouncing up and down until you laid your hand on her leg in silent support.

But that didn’t stop her from biting her lip.

You didn’t comment on it, just silently supporting her. You knew that she was in her own head and that it wouldn’t help her to draw attention to her fidgety nervous self.

You were glad when Alessia asked you to sleep at hers and Lottes because you knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep otherwise and also because it would help you too.

She pulled you close once the two of you had settled in bed, silently rubbing her hand up and down your back. It was not only helping her but you too. The both of you relaxing for the first time today.

“Silence the voices, that haunt you inside.” You whispered in the blondes ear and you couldn’t see her smile slightly. Glad that the both out you knew each other so well.

“You deserve to be called up, you deserve this place. You don’t have to be great, hell you don’t even have to be anything. It’s our first camp, they don’t have any expectations. Just show them what you are made of, what you train for every day. And most importantly just be you.”

You smiled proudly at Alessia and kissed her forehead.

When she looked up into your eyes she could only see trust and love.

The national camps went better than expected for you as well as for Alessia.

But shortly after the international break everything became a lot messier.

In early March you watched the news at one training, seeing how the whole world started to shut down.

You could see the uncertainty in a lot of your international teammates.

Lotte and Lessi also looking on in concern, especially when pictures from the hospitals in Italy were showed.

You could see the worry in Alessias eyes, so you pulled her into your arms, squeezing her tight.

The next evening you walked with Lotte to her dorm after class.

When Lotte opened her dorm room you saw Lessi sitting on her bed, talking on her phone, tears silently running down her cheeks.

You immediately walked over to her, pulling her into you and silently supporting her.

“Yeah mum, I… look into flights… I try to be home as soon as possible.”

She said and your heart sank.

Lotte had come over as well and had sat down on your Girlfriends bed.

Alessia ended the call and sunk into your arms.

“My Nonno got covid, he was admitted to the hospital yesterday but my Nonna said that they don’t have enough rooms anymore so he ha sto stay in the corridor.

My Mother is scared for him, the situation in Italy is escalating so quickly. She wants me home before we are not allowed to travel home anymore.” She said and you watched as more tears streamed down her face.

“My mother called me this morning. She wants me back home too.” Said Lotte and pulled her best friend into her own arms.

You remained quiet.

Of course you understood that Alessias and Lottes parents wanted them home. The virus was spreading quicker than anyone had anticipated.

But you couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish. You didn’t want them to go back to England, to leave you here in America, but most of all you were scared what that would mean for yours and Lessis relationship, but you loved her and you knew that it was the best for her to go back.

„I don’t want to leave. I know I am selfish and that it’s best to go home and be with my family but I don’t want to leave you.“ Alessia was close to tears again when she looked at you, her lip quivering.

„I know Baby, I don’t want you to leave either, but it is the right decision.“

You noticed that Lotte had slipped out of the room to give you some space and you were grateful.

You kissed her soft lips, trying to convey your own feelings, your love for her.

„Love, I think over the last few months was fortunate to get to know you and I would say that I sometimes know you better than you know yourself.“ You were glad when Less chuckled.

„Do you remember what you said to me that day, we got together? Look in my eyes, I will never desert you. I say the same to you now. I know it will not be easy, but you just need to say the word and we will take on the world together, okay?!“

The smile on Alessias face was all you needed for you to know that whatever may happen in the future the two of you would be alright. You knew that even around 6.500 kilometers wouldn’t destroy what Alessia and you had.

Still you were not prepared for the day were Alessia and Lotte actually left.

It was one week after that fateful evening. Lotte and Alessia had talked with your coaches and teachers and they weren’t the only international students that were leaving campus.

The Virus had only spread and even your own family became increasingly worried. So you too were thinking about leaving campus to go back to your family in New York.

With the pressure of international flights being canceled left and right, the English girls had booked the next possible flight. So with in 5 days they had packed their thinks and were now standing with you at the airport, luggage by there side.

All three of you had tears streaming down your faces. No one knew what the next few days, weeks or even months would bring.

„I will miss you guys! Just promise that whatever happens we stay in contact, okay?!“

Alessia was hugging you her face hidden in your hair, hands grabbing your shirt as if she could take you with her.

„I love you so much! No matter what ok? We will call and face time and we will back in no time.“ Your heart shattered hearing her broken voice. And you couldn’t help but just nod. You pulled Lotte into your hug, you would miss the brown haired defender almost as much as Alessia. She had become one of your closest friends over the last year.

„I am just one phone call away. No matter the time difference. Just call me whenever alright? You too Lotte! You don’t know how much the two of you mean to me.“

„You too Y/n. We will see each other soon.“

With one last hug you said goodbye to Lotte before pulling Lessi into you for one last time.

„I‘ll miss you so much!“ You whispered and kissed her hard. A promise of Love and forever.

„Remember, we will face the world together ok? We will be alright.“

Alessia was looking into your eyes with so much love that you could only smile before kissing her one last time.

With a heavy heart you watched as the two girls left for security. One last wave from the two and they were gone.

Gone for an unknown amount of time

—————

Pt 2 is already in the works so stay tuned 😀

#arsenal women fc #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #lotte wubben moy #unc tar heels #unc #woso x reader #woso #women’s football #uswnt

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annawritesblog · 8 months

Text

Eyes off you (c.l.)

Summary: Y/n and Charles have been together for 2 years and Charles has a special surprise for her.

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago so if there’s any mistakes in it, feel free to tell me:) Also, English is not my first nor my second language so excuse my spelling and/or grammar errors. I recommend listening to the attached song as it plays in the background later in the story. Enjoy🤍

Charles' P.O.V.

Are you still at home? Came the message from Arthur.

Yes, we're leaving in 15 minutes, come in about 30. I wrote back.

I put my phone in the right pocket of my suit pants, the left being full with the red velvet box. I took a final look in the mirror and after a few quick breaths, Y/n appeared from the bathroom.

"I'm ready." She says and puts a lipgloss in her purse. Her purple dress showing her curves just right, like a princess.

"My God. You look absolutely stunning, chérie." I say and wrap my arms around her waist leaving little kisses in the crook of her neck.

"You don't look bad yourself." Smiles the girl I've been in love with for almost 2 years. "Stop." She warms as I still kiss her neck slowly moving down to her collarbone.

"Can't we just stay home?" I ask, but I realize that that would be the worst idea ever, considering that in less than 30 minutes my brothers will be here. "I mean, no. We should really go, hurry even."

She turns around and furrows her brows. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's wonderful, love." I grab her small hand and guide her out of the penthouse. After locking the door, we take the elevator to the underground parking house. Opening the door for her, she sits in the black Ferrari.

The ride is less than 15 minutes, but it feels so much more than that. She talks about how happy she is that we're going to this birthday party, but I can barely process anything she's saying. "Oh, I left my phone at home."

"Are you serious?" I ask and she nods worriedly. "I can't turn around."

"Why?"

"We're already late, Carlos will kill me if we make it there after Isa." I try to lie, hoping she doesn’t suspect anything.

"Okay, you're gonna have to take pictures then." She lets go easily.

A few minutes later we arrive at the beautiful venue in Monte Carlo. We walk inside, hand in hand and see that almost everybody is there.

"You were right. We really are late." She says and we giggle a little, just the two of us, our little private space.

"Sorry, mate. We're here." I half-hug Carlos, who just shrugs it off saying it's fine.

"Okay, okay. She's coming." Carlos tells us and when his missis arrives we all scream happy birthday to her.

Y/n and I spend a little time talking to Isa, but I excuse myself to another table where some strangers sit. I open the last texts from Arthur, saying that they have arrived about 10 minutes ago. I quickly text some informations, although I explained everything to them yesterday, but I want everything to be perfect, she deserves nothing less.

"Boo." Y/n says behind me, which does scare me. How long has she been staying there? Hopefully not long at all. "What are you doing?"

"Answering some texts from the team." I say and she gives me a dissapointed look. "I know and I am sorry, chérie. That was the first and last, I promise." I put my phone in my pocket and I kiss her hand sweetly. We walk to Carlos' table where he gives me a reassuring look.

"Y/n, come, you have to look at this." Isa grabs her arm and drags her away.

"How are you feeling, man?" The spaniard infront of me asks.

"Nervous."

"You don't have to be, she'll say yes." Carlos comes closer to me.

"What if she won't? Maybe she's not ready yet. We have been together for almost 2 years, that's soon, isn't it?" I go in full panick mode.

"What? It's not too soon, if you're ready, than nothing's too soon." He pats my shoulder. "They're coming." I look behind me and I see Y/n and Isa walking towards our table.

"Look what we found. Chocolate covered fruits, this is the best day of my life." Isa says with a full mouth and my missis just laughs next to her. I wrap my arm around her waist, securing her close to me.

About 2 hour later, after I got a text from my brothers saying they're done with everything, we decided to go home.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." I whisper in Y/n's ear, letting her go from my embrace.

"Okay, I'll be here." I give her a peck on her cheek and walk towards the restrooms.

Kicking the door open with my feet, I rest my hands on the sink trying to catch my breath. I promised my brothers that I would call them before we start heading home. After 2 rings Lorenzo picks it up. "Hey, what's up?"

"We're just leaving. Everything ready?"

"Yes, everything's disgustingly perfect." My little brother yells and drops something.

"What was that?" I ask immediately.

"My phone, fuck."

Lorenzo sighs and says something to him that I don’t hear. "Are you okay?"

"Not really, shitting my pants right now." I sigh.

"You don't need to be scared. She's gonna say yes, I'm sure." My big brother says.

"One hundred percent. Who wouldn't wanna marry you?" Arthur laughs in the phone.

"Thank you?"

"I was trying to lighten the mood." Arthur says and I let out a little laugh.

"Listen. Do you remember the Australian GP? How nervous you were? For days, you couldn't think straight you were that scared and you ended up winning it. Think about this as a race. You're nervous before it, but the outcome will be perfect." Lorenzo says and I can sense that they're both smiling.

"Thanks, both of you. I owe you both."

"You don't owe us anything, this is what siblings are for." Arthur says and we hang up. I go back to the main room and after a few short goodbyes, we get in the car.

"It was so much fun!" Y/n exclaims and I put my hand on her thigh.

"Yes, it was." I agree.

Se turns her head my way as I start my car. "Where's your mind?" She tries to be cool about it, but I know she's worried.

"In Australia." I answer with a smile.

"Oh, really? What kind of mistresses do you have there?" She smirks and I slow down a bit. We can't be home, before they've left. For once I'll keep the speed limit in mind.

"One, only. I spent like a week there with her. She was wow, like she had a blue lingerie set that she wore after I won. That was something, kept me up all night." I smirk smuggly and my hand travels further up her thigh. She lets out a shaky breath and looks at me.

"Do you remember that?"

"I think I'll remember that forever." We stop at a red light. "Where's that set, anyway?"

"You might see it around this weekend." She looks out the window, clearly blushing.

"Then, I'll have to give my best in this race." My hand travels even more north on her, already feeling her warmth. Althought, this is not going anywhere for a little while.

"You better, mister."

"You already know I will."

"Mrs? I'm not married." She says followed by a few giggles. I messed this up.

We spend the rest of the car ride listening to music and talking about the party. By the time I park the car, I'm sure that my brothers are already home.

I take my keys out and try to put it in the keyhole, but it falls to the floor. I pick it up and place it in again, only for it to slip out of my hand again. "Merde." I curse as I pick it up from the floor.

"Okay, babe. What's wrong?" Y/n asks as I can finally open the goddamn door.

"Nothing is wrong, love. I drank too much coffee." By this time I'm sure she doesn't believe a word I'm saying, but I can't just tell her that I'm nervous she'll say no to marrying me. She'll found out soon anyway, I won't blow it at the last meters.

"We really have to stop drinking so much coffee it's not-" Her words are lost. She looks outside our balcony and slowly back to me. "What is this?" She starts walking towards the table full of her favourites.

I wrap my arms around her waist, while she wraps her hands around my neck. "You deserve it. You've been next to me, when I was at my worst, especially nowadays. Thank you, chérie."

I kiss her passionately and she fumbles with my hair.

"You didn't have to do this, Charles. I will always be there for you." She sits on one of the chairs and looks at the beautiful view of the city. I sit in front of her and start the light music from my phone.

"Oh my God. Macarons." She exclaims and pops one of them in her mouth.

"It's from the bakery you like so much." I say and just watch her face light up. I don't know if it's because of the lights or because I'm obsessed with her, but she's glowing. Just as beautiful as she was when I met her on the streets of Monte Carlo two summers ago. Walking up and down confusedly in her white sundress.

"What is it?" She asks looking deeply into my eyes

"I'm just so in love with you." I take her hand and rest it on top of the table. "That simple."

"You're gonna make me cry."

"Don't cry, baby." I lock our fingers together. "Let's dance instead." I guide her to the end of the balcony where there's space for us to dance. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her as close as I can and rest my forehead on hers. Eyes off you starts playing just in time. Just like I planned it would.

It's our song. It played in the restaurant I took her to on our first date, only knowing each other for 3 days, a few days later when we first kissed and I played it when I asked her to move in with me in Monaco. And now when I propose to her.

"Do you think about the future?" I ask her slowly swaying her to the music.

"I'm only thinking about the future." She giggle then adds: "But yes. Although it's pretty foggy, you are crystal clear." She says sweetly which makes my heart melt. How did I deserve her?

"Same here. You're light as the bright sunshine for me, angel. Always be with you." I lean in closer and whisper in her ear. "This song is gonna play at our wedding."

I can tell she doesn't know where to put this information, but she nods slowly. I step back from her and I can tell that she has realised what's happening. With shaky hands I take the velvet box out of my pocket and get on one knee. She covers her mouth with both of her hands and tears have already filled her eyes. "Chérie. You don't even know what you do to me. For almost two years now, you're the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last when I fall asleep. I have never even dreamed that I would end up next to someone as perfect as you are." She now covers her whole face with her palms and silent sobs leave her mouth. "Look at me, angel." She looks at me and I can already feel my eyes watering. "No matter what happens, you will always have me, I promise you. I promise to give you everything your heart desires, everything you need. So, my love, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?" I open the small box revealing the rare diamond ring.

"Yes, yes. A thousand times yes, Charles." She says and I hug her closely. We only part for the few seconds it takes to put the ring on her finger. Without hesitation, she kisses me and I caress her cheeks with my hands. A few minutes later we pull away and I wipe away tears from her cheeks.

"Don't cry." I say.

"You're crying too. It's allowed." She laughs which makes me too.

"Look at you, already acting like a wife." I pull her close yet again and breath in her scent. My fiancee's scent.

#charles lecrelc #leclerc brothers #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #carlos sainz #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1blr #Spotify

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alexa-fika · 4 months

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Can you create a story about Mihawk's son who gets injured or kidnapped ?

More Mihawk please 🙏

( sorry for the grammar or spelling mistakes am not good at English )

A/N: Again, I don't know. if this is good, but you guys are popping off with Midnight Lessons so maybe this is up to your tastes? Thank you for the request Anon! Feel free to drop by my ask box to requests or simply to say hi!

Also don't worry English is also not my first language!

Dividers by @/saradika

Papa to the rescue ( Mihawk x male!reader)

Sniffles and stifled sobs could be heard in a cold, dark cell of a ship sailing somewhere on the East Blue.

“Shut up, you damn brat!” Growls Don Krieg.

Glaring at the child, he walks toward the cell, a smirk suddenly replacing his sneer.

“Do you know why you are here, you little twerp?

He sniffles, shaking his head

“Oh my my, aren’t we scared? A shame your papa can’t come and save you; what a disappointment.”

Krieg laughs mockingly and looks toward the small child.

“It’s because of him that you are here, brat so that I can finally have revenge on that bastard! It will be perfect for breaking down your stubborn, cocky father. I bet having to see his little boy die will make the bastard come around, kneeling in front of me and begging for mercy. Or he’s too much of a coward. Either way, win-win for me.”

“Papa wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh no, you misunderstand. Your papa won’t see you die. He’ll see you in agony, a slow, excruciating death by starvation or a beating, a torture that will make you beg for death. All by my hands, too.”

“He wouldn’t bow down to you! “

Krieg grips the small boy by the collar and picks him up to his eye level. His dark scowl is met by the red face of the boy, tears filling his eyes.

“He will, little brat.” His voice is low, threatening.

“Or you die.”

“He won’t! Because he will slash you! You can’t beat papa.”

Krieg’s grip tightens at the mention of Mihawk, his sneer returning in full force.

He growls out a sharp response as a fire of rage sparked in his eyes, his hands tightening around the kid’s neck.

“I will! And he will beg me for mercy before you die in front of him!”

He said, dropping Reader to the ground.

It all happened in an instant; Reader’s mind could barely keep up with what happened in the next few minutes.

He remembered that screams started coming from upstairs. He remembered Kreig turning towards the dungeon entrance, equally confused about the sudden chaos that had erupted from upstairs.

The next thing that happened Reader could remember clearly, as the familiar silhouette of their father came down the stairs into the dungeon.

“Papa!” They cheer as he closes in to the cell Reader was in and towards Don Krieg, who stands in front of it

Krieg made quick work of the cell lock, running inside and grabbing the kid, putting them in a chokehold, and holding a gun to his neck.

“So you finally show yourself, you bastard! Better start kneeling, or you can say goodbye to the brat,” he cackles.

Reader is quick to dig their tiny teeth into Don Krieg’s hand, taking advantage as he winces and slightly lessens his hold to raise his head to headbutt him, quickly running to his dad the moment Don Krieg let go of him to hold their bleeding nose.

His head snaps back as the young man headbutts him; Krieg grunts in pain. A burst of blood spurts down from his nose

He scoffs,

“Damn brat!”

“You’re not going anywhere!” he growls, pointing his gun towards the child and taking the shot.

The next few seconds, although hard to keep up with, Reader was quick to understand what had just happened as his father now stood in front of him, Yoru unsheathed and a sliced bullet landing on each side of Reader.

“Reader. Wait upstairs,” his words curt, but one could hear the aggravation in his tone.

Reader nods, running upstairs to wait for his dad; he does not have to wait long, however, as Mihawk joins him no more than a minute later.

He gently picks him up and jumps onto his small raft.

“Are you hurt?”

The child looks up at him, his eyes watering.

“I’m okay ’cause Papa is here,” he says, hugging him tightly.

“Good,” he says as he puts a hand around the child and smiles.

“I’ll make sure it stays that way,” setting his course back to Karai Barai Island.

“How did you find me?”

“Do not worry about that.”

They smile, a slight idea as to who aided his father in finding him.

“Im glad you found me, Papa; I was scared,”

It’s okay, son,” he says, rubbing his head.

“Let us get you to bed.”

Reader nods, watching dazed as the splashing waves soon turn into flowing grass and soon into the familiar floors as they arrive at their headquarters, soon arriving at their own room as Mihawk gently lays Reader down on the bed.

“Can you stay with me tonight, Papa?”

“I will only stay for a short while; there are things I must attend to.” He responds, sitting down on a chair next to his son

Reader smiles, staring at his father as he slowly lulls himself to sleep after a long and terrifying day.

Despite his words, Mihawk could be seen sitting down next to his son all night; of course, no member of Crossguild would ever comment on this, and neither would they ever comment on the soft look he had on his face as he stared at his son, finally home safe

What do you guys think? Was it as good as Midnight Lessons or kinda, eh? Please let me know so I know what I can improve on next time! Do we like child! reader more than the romantic pieces? Who's next?

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caramel-maveeato · 7 months

Text

ᴅᴀʏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: baby fever is in the air… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff ♡ TW: So Mun being a husband material ♡ word count: 2k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

“Just one day! One day and I’ll go pick her up as soon as possible!”

“…Fine. You better not leave her to me overnight again.”

A weary sigh slid out of you as your friend hung up. You were now completely left isolated in your living room with her four-month-old, round eyes gluing on you with wonder.

It wasn’t like you disliked kids, you were just unsuited to keep one around when the responsibility and unexpectancy of being a counter were holding a knife to your throat. For example, what if you had to leave her alone for missions when some evil spirits popped up? Maybe you were just letting loose your overthinking habit, but this certain “job” was always full of unforeseen occasions.

However, all uncertainty vanished as there was a pull on the hem of your shirt by small, chubby fingers. You felt your composure peace out at that sunshiny smile and it took you less than one second to haul the infant into your lap, internally collapsing in cuteness overload while texting Hana that you needed to take a day off due to “unpredicted inconvenience.”

You were prepared to spend your peaceful rest day until the sound of your doorbell abruptly chimed in just thirty minutes after you informed your teammate. You picked the sweetheart up and approached the front door, wondering who would possibly be standing in front of your house at 10 a.m. if it wasn’t the delivery man.

Turning the brass doorknob with anticipation, you watched as the door revealed your boyfriend, who was standing under the warm glow of the mid-morning sun. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips, mirroring your own sense of elation at his arrival.

“Hi…” So Mun trailed off upon seeing the bundle of happiness in your arms, paving the way for a vague gasp and a look of pure exhilaration to emerge: “Whose baby is this?!”

“Mine, obviously.” He playfully pulled a face at your words, completely unamused by the apparent lie. You chuckled, explaining: “I ‘stole’ her from a friend. Some urgent family things came up so I’ll be in charge of this cutie until she comes back later. Why are you here, by the way?”

He gave the little girl a tiny wave before turning to you: “Just wanted to check whether or not something happened. Also Ms. Chu said if no evil spirits show up today, I can leave for the rest of the day too.”

As much as you refrained from displaying too-obvious excitement by your boyfriend’s presence, it already appeared crystal clear just how notably happy you‘ve turned: “Let’s hope no third wheeler would interrupt us.”

When a baby was in sight, most people tended to head for the little chubby face before anything else. So Mun was not the exception. He stared at the girl—who was also staring at him without blinking—and carefully extended his index finger: “Can I?”

“Of course!” That was all it took for him to nudge his finger on one of her plump cheeks, smiling widely when the squishiness melted on the tip of his digit like a marshmallow.

“Oh my god!! Look at how soft she is!”

You laughed, enjoying how he went smitten over an infant before taking his hand: “Let’s go, you’re not going to stay outside all day just poking her face, right?”

He followed your footsteps through the living room: “I can if you insist.”

“Luckily I won’t.”

All three of you settled down on the couch. The sweetheart chewed on her tiny thumb while she comfortably nestled on your lap, eyes glistening like two gemstones of fascination in return for the bright smile So Mun gave her. He leaned down to poke her cheek again:

“What’s her name?”

“Bora.” You answered, chuckling at how joyfully he beamed just from Bora reaching out to grab his finger, cooing the softest of whispers in her own language on behalf of you calling her name.

“Aww. Hi Bora! I’m So Mun-oppa, nice to meet you.” His voice unconsciously eased into a more childish, playful tone. Bora’s chubby hand grasped around his finger to explore the unique touch coming from someone she hadn’t seen before. The difference in size was laughable, yet exceptionally cute.

The air was perfumed with melodic gurgles and murmurs, easily dissolving anyone’s heart into slush. You dipped your head to make eye contact with So Mun, directly bringing up the suggestion: “Do you want to try holding her? Like, holding holding.”

He pointed to himself, eyes slightly widened as if not expecting you to ask this: “You sure? I’ve never held a baby before…”

“Don’t worry, I'll make sure you won't drop her.” The answer slipped out as naturally and confidently as if you were speaking a matter of fact. You lifted Bora off your lap, moving over to him with unfaltering trust.

Holding a baby was not only an act of affection but, furthermore, a timeless configuration of art. You started off by showing him how to support Bora’s fragile head and neck. Her little skull was cradled in the palm of his hand by his trembling fingers, which were loaded with the pressure of responsibility.

You guided her body to rest against his chest with the utmost attention. The delicate yet soul-stirring feeling of carrying such a beautiful miracle built his heartbeat in synchrony with your own, each breath conveyed nervous euphoria. His other arm carefully curled to surround her lower body in a loving cocoon, embosoming the bundle of innocence with his warmth.

With reverence, he let out a contented sigh while admiring how perfectly the girl fit in his embrace. His whispering voice became hushed and almost inaudible as if he were afraid that even a single noise could startle her: “She’s so adorable, what should I do now?”

“I don’t know, keep holding her?” You had to fight for your life inwardly to not snatch some photos from such a heartwarming view, not knowing if you should focus on him or on Bora.

“I am planning to do that.” He started swaying her with a slow, steady pace, a bit clumsily but wholesome nonetheless.

You quickly grabbed some of Bora’s favorite colorful toys, wiggling them in front of her while you and him attempted to make silly faces. Her soft giggle sparked like a star during the night, quickly expanded into a whole sky of glitter.

“Oh my god, we’re making her laugh!” Seeing the effect they had on Bora, he seemed to get even more excited than her. The laughter spread as vigorously as a wildfire that infected you with merriment, both at how precious the little cutie was and how hilariously you two were acting.

Bora looked up at So Mun with her eyes like twin constellations of delight, following each of his movements with tireless attention. Her faint breaths against his skin as she bloomed a toothless smile, unbridled chuckles singing like a symphony that both of you couldn’t help but melt: “She seems to really like you. So this is the ultimate power of being handsome, I can tell.”

He squinted with a smile, bashfully nudging your side as he caught you throwing a cheeky wink: “You’re embarrassing me…”

“Just admit you like it, babe.”

The three of you spent the whole day eating and engaging in playful activities together (with you and So Mun occasionally getting into plushies-fighting battles, no plushies were harmed during the process) until your friend came back from her trip later that evening.

You shared your introductions and goodbyes, ignoring an itty-bitty tug in your chest when you now ought to hand the sweetie back to her mother. It was hysterical how you unreasonably felt like a parent escorting their kid to kindergarten for the first time when this wasn’t even your kid. It was only because the day that had passed felt like such a magical adventure, and you admitted that never in your life was babysitting this memorable.

How wonderful would it be for the moment to last a bit longer…

At least this statement earned an approving thumbs up from, believe it or not, Bora.

Your friend cupped the little girl’s tiny torso, deliberately removing her from So Mun’s hug, her voice soothing and tender in hankering to reunite with her daughter after an exhausting day: “Let’s go home, dear. Mommy is so sorry for making you wait this long.”

Though, nothing seemed to successfully detach the baby from him, the pulls on her body converted into pulls on his sweater, which her hand was clutching onto with an impressively tight grasp. The more they tried to tug her away from So Mun, the more her cherubic face contorted unpleasantly as a warning before a tentative whimper was molded, and finally, a swelling cry.

‘Awkward’ was a minimization to describe the atmosphere, all three of the elders exchanged looks in puzzlement.

Each whine intensified after each second, every sound was a sincere plea that tugged at the heartstrings. Your friend bit her lip, along with you not knowing if she should crack up or freak out at her daughter’s sudden change of heart: “Bora-ah, w–what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You noticed So Mun shooting you a panicked look before turning back to the little one, trying to mitigate her harrowing cry with the gentlest jiggles and back strokes: “Don’t cry… You’re a good girl, right? So don’t cry.”

Bora clung onto him with an iron grip as she mewled, curling into a tiny ball and tucking herself against his chest. It was both sweet and surprising how fast she became attached to him, but it also didn't seem like the right time to laugh so you only let out a quiet titter, moving your attention back to her tubby fingers and trying to unhitch them from his clothes.

“Bora-ah, look at me.” He tilted his head to reach eye level with the girl, his voice consoling like a mellifluous lullaby and a murmur of the wind; you were unaware that, simply by watching, you were also struck with profound adoration: “Oppa promises we’ll see each other again, okay?”

It took them about 10 minutes to separate her from So Mun. And this was obtained as solid proof that your boyfriend wasn’t just good with kids, he could even mesmerize them without acknowledging it.

During that teary-eyed leave-taking, you spotted your friend gesturing something with her mouth to forward a nonverbal message to you, which you recognized as:

“He’s a keeper.”

Heat blazed on your cheeks, but that didn’t stop you from pridefully accepting the comment: “He sure is.”

Bonus:

It was undeniable that Bora has grown to be significantly bonded with So Mun since the time they first saw each other. But as her uncertified “daycare provider,” you were still proudly her favorite person in the house every time she came over.

Your gut clenched as you contained your laughter, pretending not to notice your boyfriend’s adorably sulky face and instead pouring all your affection onto the cutie, kisses freely landing on her forehead.

From his direction, a heavy exhale filled in your ear yet you were too invested in the act to drop it. You soon heard some faint sounds of motion before a weight pressed down on the side of your shoulder, lovable curly hair chaotically snuggling on your shirt:

“Love me, too.”

“C’mon, it’s just Bora.” You burst out giggling and held the little girl closer in your arms just to tease him.

“But you’ve been ignoring me, you know. Can you at least make it equal for both of us? I mean, she’s very cute but…” He pouted, intentionally or not flashing his puppy eyes at you as he mumbled: “Give me attention, too.”

Your speech was replaced with a pause. At this time, you had stopped questioning why merely a small moue could cause such an enormous impact on you that it was no longer practical to keep up with your game. You wasted no time wrapping your free arm around So Mun, drawing him into a side hug where all three of you now huddled into an enclosed position, sharing the same connection and same sentiment: “Damn… Now you’re the one being too cute.”

“Am I?” So Mun grinned, gleefully reciprocating the hug before adding: “By the way, don’t “damn” in front of Bora.”

“She’s not gonna understand.”

#so mun #so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #uncanny counter #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

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yurislotusgarden · 3 months

Note

Hii!! I have a request if thats okay!! :) i love your works btw! Keep up the good work and dont forget to drink, eat and sleep well!<3

So i was thinking of Chuuya, Dazai, Nikolai, and any others if you wanna add with a reader with a ability who can talk, see and hear ghosts! I think its very cool and it barely has any recognition.. Its like toritsuka (from saiki k!) but the reader is less pervy.. and if its okay; can the reader be female? Its okay if its not!! I dont mind!!

So the reader has this ghost ability thing and they used to get bullied and shamed for it because people caught her talking to nothing but she was talking to ghosts, so she became insecure of their ability and sees it more like a curse. So technically a socially akward reader?

If you arent taking requests then you can ignore this!!

Also can i be 💞 anon?

ʚїɞ Separate! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nikolai Gogol x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ word count: 3208

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way bcs of how I wrote this

ʚїɞ We're gonna ignore how long it has been since I posted, dear 💞 anon I'm so sorry bcs of how long this has been in my inbox ;-;, I decided to wait with writing this until I watched some of saiki k so I could understand the ability at least a little, Nikolai's part is damn short bcs I didn't really have any ideas for him </3, Only Dazai's part was proofread, I'm gonna edit this post later on to correct mistakes on Chuuya's and Nikolai's parts since the person who grammar checks my works is on a short break rn

ཐིཋྀ He loves it

ཐིཋྀ This idiot didn't even realize that you have an ability at first because you didn't show any kind of signs😭

ཐིཋྀ He thought you didn’t have one like Ranpo but was told by Kunikida that you do, however, what it is was gonna remain a mystery until you decided to tell him yourself

ཐིཋྀ He found out on a mission where you guys had to chase down a guy with the ability to create a smokescreen

ཐིཋྀ Was about to say that it's over for the day because the guy was gone before you two could realize it (He had a plan to get the man anyway but didn’t feel like it) but then saw you talking to… air???

ཐིཋྀ Like you were just standing there while looking up and seemingly talking to someone

ཐིཋྀ You ignored his ass when he asked wtf you were doing

ཐིཋྀ The brunet was confused until you finally turned to look at him and said that you know where the guy went

ཐིཋྀ You had to briefly explain your ability when you walked to where the guy ran off to

ཐིཋྀ He does anything to make you more open about your ability because he adores it <3

ཐིཋྀ He wishes you showed your ability off more AND HE VOICES IT OUT

ཐིཋྀ Odasaku is his guardian ghost so you told him without thinking about it since most of the time a person doesn't know the ghost protecting them

ཐིཋྀ He actually teared up when he realized you were serious and that Odasaku was watching over him :(

ཐིཋྀ He told you about Oda after that

ཐིཋྀ He randomly asks you if you see a ghost nearby when you two are outside (does it inside buildings too)

ཐིཋྀ He does it a lot

ཐིཋྀ Please hit him

ཐིཋྀ Dazai said that he wanted to kill your past bullies and you didn't believe him -he was serious-

ཐིཋྀ And no, he didn't find dirt on those people, not at all

ཐིཋྀ And he totally didn't use it later, not at all :)

ཐིཋྀ He once asked if you ever used it to cheat in school (let’s say you had a normal enough life like Tanizaki’s or something) and when you said yes he nearly yelled out “That’s my girl!” with a grin Kunikida scolded him for being loud, and for not doing his paperwork

ཐིཋྀ Sometimes he hears you talk without looking over and assumes you’re talking to him before realizing that no, it’s actually to a ghost that’s in the room

ཐིཋྀ Once Kunikida and he had a mission but the brunet was not getting up from the couch, so you walked up and after a few seconds you told him that there was a ghost, butt naked, right by his face

ཐིཋྀ He did not look up to see if you were lying or telling the truth, he just jumped up from that couch without a second thought before he was gone out the door. He only realized that you lied once they were back and you were laughing at him with Ranpo

///////////////////////////

Seiji thought he had everything planned out. He really was sure that there was no way to find him after he ran away from the two detectives. After all, who would search for a running thief in the damn sewers when there were so many better places that could’ve been used to hide in the area?

The plan was in fact a good one, in fact. Kuwahara made it look like he was going towards the warehouses nearby to camp out, while in reality, he came down to the sewers using the ladders, as there was one of the many entrances underground right behind a warehouse.

He was so sure that he wouldn’t be found, that he wasn’t seen, so pray tell, why was he standing face to face with the exact two people he was meant to avoid. The atmosphere wasn’t nice, it was cold, and the smell was even worse, Seiji was trying heavily not to let it show on his face since the two people that were after him seemed to be completely unaffected by the environment they were in. What he couldn’t hide instead, was distress. He did not plan on getting caught any time soon, and yet it looks like he’s 8 seconds away from being behind bars.

“How- How did you guys find me?!”

///////////////////////////

This was not what Dazai meant when he said that he would show you how useful your ability can be (you refused more against it being useful than anything else he said about it, so that’s what he settled for), but it kind of worked so he wasn’t complaining.

“How- How did you guys find me?!”

Kuwahara Seiji, a 25-year-old thief that uses his ability to make himself invisible for all of his plans, making it hard for the police to identify him.

“It was kind of easy, actually!~”

“You’re talking as if you had any part in finding him.”

Dazai really didn’t. Once the criminal ran away after throwing a smoke bomb on the ground, (The brunet has to give it to him, It was annoying as hell and many people would give up on going after him once the smoke settled down) the two of you had no idea which direction he went off to, as there was a few possible exits from the warehouse you first caught him in.

His solution? Asking you to question a ghost nearby if they saw the man. You were really skeptical about that, he could tell. What he also noticed was how confused you were about his question. You didn’t understand why he would want that, at least at first. It was soon after that you realized he meant.

You can see invisible things, ghosts can see other invisible individuals as well, rendering Kuwahara’s ability useless when it comes to you chasing him down.

He realized that little advantage of yours some time back while lazing around on his favorite agency couch.

Your ghost acquaintances can be quite the helpers when it comes to investigating stuff. He heard from Kenji, that not too long ago, you had solved a case that was meant to take around a week, in a day, simply because it just so happened that a ghost was on the crime scene when it happened. You had an easy time getting clues and proving the words of the ghost to the police with their help.

He knows that a few times like those won’t stop you from being so negative about your ability, he’s aware of the impact your bullies had on you mentally even if you try to not show it, but all of those instances give you a step forward to seeing what Dazai and the others do.

“Oh c’mon ‘donna! I was the one who gave you the idea of asking someone!”

“We would be able to track him down anyway. Asking someone just made it faster.”

Catching him in the end was not hard at all. Kuwahara tried to sneak away using his ability once again, but you could still see him without him realizing it. You could see where he was walking off to, making it possible for Dazai to nullify the guy's ability and catch him before leading him to the police vehicle near the warehouse you guys were under.

“See? I told you your ability is really useful and fun!”

“Where do you see the fun in my predicament?” He could tell you were just done with him for the day, besides being confused.

“I mean, you’re almost never alone, right? You always have someone to talk to!~” He knows it’s annoying to see ghosts all the time without the option to just… not be able to do that.

A sigh came from you before answering, “Exactly, complete silence for me is a rare blessing.” in an exhausted tone.

“I would love to never be in complete silence.” He wished that you could have some sort of an on-and-off switch.

“Samu… That’s because your voices would be quiet-” “I do NOT have voices, bella!”

“Sure, continue being in Egypt.”

“What-”

ཐིཋྀ Thinks it's very cool actually

ཐིཋྀ Imma put you down as a florist in this one, or just some small/calm kind of job

ཐིཋྀ When he first met you, he didn’t think about whether you have an ability or not since it wasn’t his business in the slightest

ཐིཋྀ Let’s say that you’re a florist and the ginger came in to buy flowers for Kouyou for example. It just so happened that one of the ghosts hanging around in your workplace was feeling silly, and had been pranking the customers the whole day, Chuuya being no exception

ཐིཋྀ When you were at the back getting the bouquet he ordered the day before, his hat was randomly taken off of his head and was floating in the air

ཐིཋྀ Bro was so confused because he knew his ability was off at the moment

ཐིཋྀ Every time he got the hat back onto his head it just floated back up😭

ཐིཋྀ The menace of a ghost stopped only once you got back out of the backroom and scolded them

ཐིཋྀ Chuuya was confused because ‘Who the fuck were you talking to???’

ཐིཋྀ He asked that exact question and even though you were visibly hesitant and nervous, you still explained your ability since he already saw it anyway

ཐིཋྀ You did not get the reaction you expected, which was being made fun of as that was what you were used to, but he instead complimented it <3

ཐིཋྀ Make sure you don’t let a name slip when it comes to your past bullies because you will see them on the news, missing :)

ཐིཋྀ On one of your first dates/early stages of dating, he gave you Marigolds which you lightly laughed at, causing him confusion before you explained their meaning to him

ཐིཋྀ Yeah, he settled for mostly giving you Cyclamens, Blackthorns, and Bluebells alongside your favorite flowers after that, just for fun

ཐིཋྀ Going with the florist thing or just generally, he would help you around with his ability if there’s something heavier to move around

ཐིཋྀ He would voice out how often he actually wants to see you, albeit embarrassed, but he will show it in lil gestures a lot more <3

ཐིཋྀ I can just imagine him putting his hat on your head and sliding it down over your eyes before giving you a peck on the lips as a goodbye if he was at your workplace and he had to suddenly go

ཐིཋྀ He would try to slowly get you to not be so insecure about your ability

ཐིཋྀ I feel like one of The Flags would be his guardian ghost which could actually make this man cry at the thought :(

ཐིཋྀ Alright but if you met a past bully of yours, or someone newer, that would try to shit on you for your ability, just tell him, and he will beat them up happily <3

ཐིཋྀ Or just go and have a nice talk with them about their behavior if you don’t want him to beat them up, I can promise that they will never again be rude to you if they value their lives (Or you will see them on the news or hear about them being in the hospital if they don’t ^-^)

///////////////////////////

“Are you sure that you don’t have work right now?”

“Yes, so shut your pretty mouth up and show what else you need to be moved.”

Renovation. A simple small renovation of your small shop was all that you planned. Moving some of the furniture, and changing the place of a few products for easier finding. You had thought that it would take a few days to take care of it since you planned on doing a few things every day so as to not close up the shop for a whole day unnecessarily (and you didn’t feel like doing everything in one day).

The problem was, he was supposedly not meant to know about that. Chuuya found your graphic open on your laptop and saw the renovation plans before realizing that you didn’t speak a word about that. At first, he was confused. Why didn’t you tell him? He could certainly make it faster by helping you.

Yet soon after that, he realized why. You didn’t want him to know because you knew that he would help and, therefore not do his work, something you were always worried about when he stopped by your shop. Well, he was never one not to help you, especially when there’s such an occasion. he wants a thank you kiss besides being a gentleman, your honor

“Is it really that hard to focus on your job instead of helping me move the furniture?” You sighed, pointing to a bookcase and then pointing to a place where a table stood before. “You’re gonna get in trouble.”

“I’m not, besides- HEY!” Looking up, his hat could be seen slowly floating away. He ignored you stifling a laugh as he chased after the hat. Chuuya would ignore it and just continue on with moving your stuff around, but the last time he did that, the hat was later found in a pot, making him have to wash it as it had a lot of soil on it. (A lot of his subordinates wondered why he didn’t have his hat on the next day, he didn't explain it to anyone)

“Can you tell them to stop?!” He could only guess how funny the situation looked to you. To anyone else, it just looked like the ginger was chasing after a floating hat, but you could see the menace that was taking the object away, so it ended up being funnier to you, if you nearly laughing was anything to go by.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear.”

“You’re so mean!”

You hummed softly before answering, “I would prefer to be called entertained.”

“It has nothing to do with what I said, doll.” Was said by Chuuya just as he finally got hold of his hat. Even if the ghost was still holding onto it, at least the hat wasn’t continuously floating away toward the flower-bare pots with just soil in them again.

“Let them have some fun in a while, Chuu, they don’t do it too often.”

“Yeah, and it just so happens that they decide to have their little fun almost every time that I come here.”

“They love you.”

“I wish they didn’t.”

“It’s better than if they disliked you.”

“Why?”

“There’s a customer that they don’t like for being rude to me,” The ginger frowned at that information but you continued on, “And they are rude back to him every time he comes by my shop.”

“What do they do?”

“Y’know, pull on his clothes and hair, steal his things, and make them completely dirty on purpose, make him think he heard or saw something and that kind of stuff. Pretty sure they stole some of his money from the guy’s wallet.”

Chuuya was quiet for a moment before speaking up. “I think I prefer my hat being occasionally stolen…”

“Exactly!” You shouldn’t smile like that after what you said, but he’s not gonna comment on that one.

“...So the bookcase is the next to be moved, isn't it?

ཐིཋྀ He fr felt betrayed that he didn't know immediately

ཐིཋྀ Like he could know you for 5 minutes and be offended that your ability wasn’t one of the first things you said about yourself

ཐིཋྀ He finds it so fascinating that you can contact the dead so easily

ཐིཋྀ Don’t tell him who his guardian ghost is, no matter how much he asks

ཐིཋྀ Just hit him every time he asks, I promise it works to keep him from asking for the next 3 hours <3

ཐིཋྀ You can bet that he talks to Fyodor and Sigma about your ability (He asked you to tell Sigma that there’s multiple ghosts watching him all the time, he believed. Sigma did not sleep for the next 5 days at all because of that thought)

ཐིཋྀ You said it to him again because at some point there was a ghost actually following him, but Sigma didn’t want to believe it

ཐིཋྀ He’s gonna ask a million times for you to join him in pranks if you won’t agree the first time

ཐིཋྀ Just imagine telling someone a ghost-related thing that they can’t prove is not true

ཐིཋྀ You caused someone to be in hospital after they didn’t sleep for way too long

ཐིཋྀ You told Fyodor that there’s a ghost hanging around him all the time, but didn’t say whether it’s the guardian one or some random one, you just left the rat to ponder on which one you mean (Nikolai died when he found out)💀

///////////////////////////

“WAIT! What do you mean there’s some ghost stalking me?!” Nikolai could tell that Sigma didn't expect to be told something like that today, but again, who would?

“I didn’t say stalking, I said following you around as they seem to be interested in you.” Why did you smile so innocently at that? He doesn’t know but he does encourage you since it gets more reactions from the bi-colored-haired man.

“It doesn’t make it better?!”

“I think it does! Some ghosty is interested in our little Sigma!” He had to add something to the fire, what kind of a person would he be if he didn’t?

“Don’t call me that, Nikolai!”

“But whyyyy?” It was Thursday, the day that the white-haired clown dubbed ‘the best day to prank Sigma!’, even though he says it every week. He also deemed himself lucky as you finally agreed to help him prank the younger man again after rejecting him multiple times.

“Because I’m not little! And I won’t believe you guys again.”

“I don’t agree,” You spoke up, “Even the ghost agrees that you’re small!”

“See Sigma? We even have your beloved ghost on our side!”

“That’s no ‘my’ ghost, and I don’t believe that they said it. [Name] could be lying for all I know!”

“But do you have any way of proving that it’s a lie?” Nikolai couldn’t wait until he took the bait.

“...”

“Exactly!” You grinned before speaking up again a moment later, “They actually have a cute nickname for you that I’m thinking of using now…”

“Should I be scared?” Nikolai regrets not getting you into the pranks earlier, after all, the younger one had no way to prove you wrong. Sigma looks genuinely frightened that it may be real this time.

“No… It’s really a cute nickname that the ghost calls you by because they didn’t know your name when they first started following you around.”

“Stalking.”

“No.”

“I wanna know it! Tell us, dove!” Was it a nickname he could use himself? Or were you lying about it being a cute one and instead it’s weird? He doesn’t know which option he would like more. If he was being honest, Nikolai was feeling like you were telling the truth and not lying again like the last time.

“Cotton.”

“Cotton? Where did that come from?”

“That’s adorable! Let’s call him that!”

“I think that’s a perfect idea, Niko!”

“No!”

Nikolai can already tell that he’s gonna have a lot of fun with that nickname in his vocabulary now.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ Taglist ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

@sukiischaotic

Marigolds - Often called “flowers of the dead”, are symbols of positive emotions, like joy and excitement. They also represent energy, good luck, warmth, creativity, prosperity, passion purity, divinity, and the connection between life and death. These flowers' fragrance is said to attract souls to the altar.

Cyclamen - symbolizes the eternal cycle of life, which makes it the perfect flower that means 'forever'. In Japan, cyclamen holds a special place as the holy flower of love, causing it to be a popular choice for Valentine's Day

Blackthorn - Fate, protection, hope against adversity, good fortune, strength, overcoming adversity, purification, and protection

Bluebell - Loyalty, constancy, humility, gratitude and everlasting love

Keep in mind that flower meanings may somewhat be different depending on what site you look at, so excuse me if anything in the meanings is wrong! (hopefully not)

#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs #chuuya bsd #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #nikolai gogol #bsd

217 notes · View notes

silencesscreams · 10 months

Text

be my mistake

steve harrington x f!reader (smut)

“steve, how could i avoid you? it’s impossible, you’re everywhere i look!“

a/n: also i slipped in a little amy march reference in the discussion part, its my steve fic, sorry in advance if you dont like it and its shitty!! english isn’t my first language so sorry about any grammar mistakes

warnings: angsty-ish, best friends w the scoops troop (i love them so muchhh), afab reader, crying, swearing, kissing, praise, oral (f receiving), begging, a bit of degradation, penetration, unprotected (do not do this pls.),

MINORS DNI

you could say that working at the local family video had its perks.

specially when your two closest friends worked with you but, of course, none of them knew about your recently resurfaced crush on one of them.

steve was not the same guy he was when you met him, sure, he flirted with a lot of girls, and with you, but he was nicer. he was sweet to customers, he even occasionally 'babysit' (that was how robin called hanging out with the kids he was friends with).

recently, steve had become more touchy towards you, he was constantly giving you hugs, he even held your hand at the movies once! sure, you and steve had become best friends, but did he know the effect he had over you? he must know. you blushed whenever he barely touched you, and you felt like your feelings were pretty obvious, you never knew how to hide them properly. he must know, right?

something else, which robin had noticed and commented on with you, was that steve hadn't flirted with any girls in a while now. sure it was weird, because thats basically the thing he did the most, but you didnt really bother, it actually made you a bit less insecure.

you, steve and robin started to watch movies every late monday, since you had less customers on those days, so you'd usually 'work late' and get some takeout and watch some shitty movie you'd probably talk through and make very bad jokes about later.

“ladies! im going on a second date tonight!” he said, barging in with a smile on his face. you could feel your heart fall to the ground, you didn’t even know he had a first date with someone recently.

“what? with who?” robin asked confused.

“her names camila, she goes to state college, i think”

“hm, and did you tell her you have no dreams for the future and work at a family video?” robin teased him.

“oh please, i have a lot of dreams!” he complained, putting on his vest.

“sure you do, stevie” you commented, rolling your eyes playfully. why were you feeling so stupid?

you could feel your stomach fall to the ground, god, that hurt.

it was not like you ever even kissed him. so that meant he was just flirting with you for the fun, then, god, that hurt even more.

and plus, it was steve harrington.

you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship ever, specially not because of some crush you had, if you could even call it that.

it lasted so long it was probably a free fall at this point.

and so steve went on the date.

and with that, steve had a new girlfriend.

and you hated every single cell in her body.

camila was mean, evil, sick, twisted, a bitch, disgusting and she had this god awful breath. her perfume left you with headaches. and did i say she was mean? because she really was.

but you couldn’t help to not be at least a bit angry at him, and so you found yourself avoiding him at all costs. mostly because he was always with camila and you found her insufferable, but it was also because, yes, you were hurt.

then steve and camila broke up.

so you found out, you had no excuse not to hang out with him anymore. you had no excuse to skip movie sessions, outings, or anything else.

and so whenever a hang out would come up, you suddenly had a sore throat, a headache, a fever. and you don’t know why, but robin wasn’t judging you for it.

you told her about your crush and told her that was the reason you weren’t hanging out with them outside of work, and she understood. she didn’t even question it, and that made you feel worse about it.

“okay, whenever you’re ready to hang out again, feel free to come over, alright?” that was all she said. and it hurt deeply, because you missed your best friends.

but being around steve was unbearable.

and you still, gave it a shot.

monday came around, and robin invited you to hang out at steve’s and watch friday the 13th. for the first time in 2 months, you said yes.

punctually, you were at steve’s, it was 7pm and that was half an hour later to what robin scheduled with you, but her car wasn’t on the driveway. that definitely made you nervous. one thing was hanging out with steve AND robin, the other was hanging out with steve.

took a while for steve to answer the door, once he did, he was standing there in all his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and shirtless. you could feel all your dignity (which was very little) leave your body. you were feeling your body get hotter by the second and the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy.

“hey, come in” he smiled awkwardly, looking around his house nervously.

“sorry i didn’t answer the door earlier, my family’s out of town and i forgot and assumed someone else would answer it.” you smiled at him.

“no problem” you said, trying so hard not to look at him.

“hm, i’m gonna put something on, sorry about that. feel free to sit on the couch, eat, whatever you want to do is fine”

“okay” you smiled, heading over to his living room. there was popcorn on the coffee table, the vhs tape on the table and there was a half filled dr pepper bottle on the floor. you thought it was sweet steve put this together, why aren’t you that mad at him anymore?

when he came back, he was wearing a old t shirt, stained with something that looked like ketchup. he was smelling good. had he put on perfume? god, you missed his smell.

“you wanna start now?” he asked, putting the tape in the vcr.

“maybe we should wait for robin, right?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“she’s not coming. didn’t she tell you? she got caught up with something at work.”

“oh, right.” she didn’t tell you, and you were sure that was written all over your face.

“y/n?” he called.

“yeah?” you looked at him, your ears flushed.

“have you been avoiding me?” oh shit.

“what do you mean?” you decided to lie shamelessly was just the way to go.

“you know what i mean. you never go out with us anymore, and now i’ve just mentioned robin isnt coming, i realize its because of me.” oh shit.

“what?” you laugh anxiously. “no, i just wanna see the movie, its not like that.”

“stop it. you havent been able to look at me for weeks now and i dont get it. goddamn it! im your best friend!” he sighed, rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was nervous.

“steve, how could i possibly avoid you? you’re everywhere i look!” you blurt out, he was looking at you now. “you’re at my job, you’re near my house, you give me a ride home, you’re in my fucking friend group!”

“i just wanna know what i did, because i never meant to hurt you-“

“steve, stop it, you’re being mean.” you were looking at his hairline, not actually being able to see his eyes in that moment, you were about to do it. “you know how i feel about you and you always have.”

that was probably it, that was the death of the friendship.

“what?” he lowered his head, trying to get something out.

“you dont get to do this to me, okay? you don’t. not when you desperately flirted with me for months just to get a girlfriend. not when you tricked me into thinking that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. not when i’ve been in love with you since middle school.” you felt like you just had a knife shoved into your stomach because of the way he looked at you. brows furrowed, eyes empathetic, but not looking at you directly.

“im going home.” you managed to get that out, with eyes watery and cheeks flushed. you got up, trying so hard not to look back at him, counting your steps to the door.

one,

two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven.

you felt a hand gripping your shoulder.

“stay.” he whispered.

“what?” you turned around, looking up at his hazel colored eyes.

“stay.” his hands were on your waist.

“okay.” you answer, looking directly into his dark pupils and that was probably it for you. someday this man might just kill you, your heart was beating faster than ever and you could feel your stomach knotting and knotting and knotting, it was so silly. you felt so incredibly silly.

until he pulled you in. until he was just a few centimeters away from your lips.

it all happened way too fast.

his lips were touching yours, his hands all over you. you ran your hands through his hair, your mouth parted as his tongue slides into your mouth, licking over yours. his hands on your waist.

your hand goes under his shirt and he felt so warm, until he pulls away. you look up at him, doe eyed and he smiles at you.

he doesn’t even have to say anything, and neither do you.

he takes you up to his room, his hand pressed against your lower back, leading you upstairs with the biggest smile on his face.

he opens the door for you, as you head in you notice he’s just looking at you, blushing and shifting from foot to foot. he gives you a look you had never seen before and it makes your heart pound faster than ever. you can’t bear to hide a smirk.

he stood still in the doorway, but he quickly steps forward once you go up to him and peck his lips, giving him a perfect view of your bra.

holy fucking shit.

then, like it didn’t drive you insane, you pull away, grinning at how he went forward with you.

you were sat at the edge of the, bed legs crossed and eyes observant as he locked his door.

with a speed that drives you crazy, steve lifts you and pulls you into his lap, so you’re straddling him. he does that so quickly, it makes you yelp once you land comfortably, instinctively grinding your hips down, making him groan, the low tone of his voice making heat shoot between your thighs.

“such a tease.” he was toying with the hem of your skirt. “this is hot.” he whispered, voice thick as he lays his left hand on your overexposed thigh.

you go over to kiss him again but stop in the middle of the way, liking the way he looked at you. you lift his hand, from the fabric of your skirt up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles. the action feels so intimate and sweet it makes him smile a bit (he also gets a bit hard but that’s not the point).

you look down at him from where your sat, eyelashes batting as you stop kissing his knuckles when he pulls his hand from you, slipping his fingers between yours and gripping your thigh with the spare hand. you kiss down his neck and he can’t stop thinking of how pretty you looked, really.

that shirt, that bralette he knew was under it.

its not fair you looked like that. he just couldn’t help himself at the sight of you.

his hands coast up your bare sides under the shirt, that made you shudder and rock a little in his lap, the relief of the friction ended suddenly as he grabd your hips and pins you down firmly onto him, so you can’t move.

it was useless to try to roll your hips, specially with his hold pinning you down.

he hums, hand sliding further up your top and squeezing just below your tit.

you can’t help but moan a little as he palms your skin, his voice low and thick as honey,

“you look like…” your head tips back at the feeling of his hands on you and he takes that as an opportunity to trail soft kisses along your neck “like you’re mine.” you mewl weakly as his hand cups your breast, his touch clouding up your brain.

“you’re mine, right?” you nod eagerly, pushing up against the hand tucked under your shirt. he clicks his tongue and rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, “not an answer, hun.”

he had barely touched you and you’re already shaking, breathing heavily and face flushed.

he started kissing your neck, nipping at it.

“answer or you’re not cumming tonight.” the timbre of his voice was incredibly low once he said that, it made your eyes round and your hips buck into air.

“steve, yes, i’m yours. i’ll be so good, please.” you whined.

he squeezes your breast in approval, humming at the way your eyes shut when he touches you.

“good girl.” he lifts you up, manhandling you as you’re being laid down on the bed, his hand leaving you and making you whine. you can feel him moving downwards, trailing kisses down your neck, stomach, before arriving between your legs.

he chuckles ad you whines, trailing soft kisses down your body.

“don’t be greedy.” he looked up at you from where he’s kissing, the waistband of your skirt, eyes wide as he takes in your already fucked out and needy expression.

“my greedy girl” you nod at that, head tilted up as your back arches up a bit, his mouth still pressing messy kisses to the inside of your thighs, “practically begging for me, huh?”

he’s mocking you, nipping at your inner thighs, marking up anywhere except where you need him. his hands are gripping and rubbing soft circles into your thighs, feeling you go lax and needy under him.

“steveee” you say, blushing at how desperate you sound, “please.”

you feel him smile against your inner thigh, looking up at you, “what it is it, princess? can’t even speak and i’ve barely done anything to you, huh, so needy.” his head drops down as he sucks another hickey into you hip, “use you words.” you grind upwards and he pins your hips down, tutting. he looks at you expecting something and you know he wont give you shit until you beg for it.

“steve, please,” your voice tapers into broken whines as your hips move on their own accord, missing his mouth. “need you in me, please, i’ll be so good for you. need you so bad, please.”

“that’s all you had to say, baby.” with that, his fingers push the fabric of your skirt up, showing your lace panties. he groans at the sight.

“shit, you’re so pretty.” he presses a kiss to your clothed core, making you moan, “gonna fuck you with these on, okay?” you nod lazily, the feeling of steve mouthing over your panties makes speaking very difficult. he grins,

“so fucked out.” he flattens his tongue over you, pushing your panties aside as he swipes his tongue over to your wet heat, lapping from your slit to your swollen clit, “haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re practically soaking.”

your hand has gone to his hair, your grip tightens. he knows that your pouting at that, even if he’s not looking.

steve pushes your legs farther apart, pushing your thigh up slightly as he lapped messily at your pussy.

your hands are tugging on his hair, stirring him on as he flicks over your clit in quick strokes that leave your legs shaking around his head. he looks up at you, your head thrown back slightly, shirt hitched up showing your bralette. he reaches up with one hand, helping you take of the shirt.

once its off, he sees your lacy bralette fully, straps falling down as your back arches. it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

he lifts your hips slightly, pressing two digits to your slick entrance, watching how you try and push against them, hips pinned down as you buck down mindlessly,

“steve!” you mewl, voice wrecked. he hums, flicking over your clit with his togue. “aw, doll, is that all you can say?” he gently fucks his fingers into your tight heat, feeling the way you clench around him as you let out another mewling main, legs thrown over his shoulders as he crooks his fingers upwards, pushing up against the sweet spot inside of you. your legs tighten on either side of his head, fingers fucking faster into you, “so fucked out, its cute.”

you blush red, eyes shut and lips parted in soft whines of his name. he liked the way you said it.

his fingers curl against your g-spot, fucking into you in tune with the quick movements of his tongue.

“fuck, steve, ju-just like that, please” he’s placing sloppy kisses over your clit, his fingers thrusting into you, picking up their pace as you clench around him, dripping over his hand.

“fuck, so pretty for me, baby” he groans as he kisses your clit, “such a pretty pussy, can’t wait to fuck you, gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?” he watches how you nod weakly between your choked moans of ‘yesyessteve’. you clench around him, his fingers fucking rapidly in and out of your cunt. you were just about to scream once he leaned forward, taking you clit in his mouth, lips latching the sensitive bud and sucking hard, fingers still curling up against your overworked spot as you grind upwards into his mouth and hand, his palm grinding against your entrance.

his fingers fuck into you fast and rough, his free hand reaching up to palm your breast through the fabric of your bra, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer to your climax.

“i’m gonna cum, oh my god, i’m gonna cum don’t stop please-“ you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. your thighs were clenching around his head, your hands curling in his hair as he lapped at you clit, his fingers hooking against your heat, watching how you fell apart at his touch, hips bucking as you chased your high.

“steve- fuck- you’re so fucking good” you can barely finish a sentence, grinding against his mouth desperately.

he loves you like this, whimpering and so needy, talking through broken little whines. the way you’re begging has him working over you faster.

he groans, feeling the was you clench around him, your slick walls contracting around his digits,

“fuck, you like that, don’t you? being mine? only good for me, huh?” any coherent answers get lost in your pleas of yes, please. he chuckles, fucking his fingers harder into you.

“ohmygodsteve” you’re a moaning mess, legs spread wide and shaking, his tongue circling your clit after his hand dropped, gripping your hip to lift you up slightly, fingers fucking into you slightly deeper. you’re praising him breath;essay, making his fingers move faster, sucking harder on your clit. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, the sight of you making him impossibly hard as he ground his hips into the mattress, taking in the way your head was tipped back, how your mouth was parted in soft moans of his name, how your fingers are gripped at his hair, grinding into his mouth and hand.

“aw, are you gonna cum already?” you nod as best as you can, his fingers are moving roughly in you, pulling you towards your finish. you try to hold off when he murmurs, flicking your clit with his tongue.

“cum for me, let me feel you squeeze my fingers with that thigh pussy.” you cum hard on his tongue, his digits still fucking into you, drawing you out of it. your climax crashes over you in waves, the feeling of being fucked open when you came making you whine.

you’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out of you. steve reaches up and pins your legs up to your chest, kissing you hard and rough. he nips ate your lips and murmurs,

“still need me, baby?” he’s rubbing your cheeks and you can’t help but push against his touch. your voice is broken and whinny,

“yes, please, need you so bad.” he kisses you again and you can feel his hair brushing over your face,

“good fucking girl.” you practically preen from his praise, as he sits up, taking off his shirt and lowering his sweatpants, he takes a moment to dip his hand below his waistband to palm himself through his boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad,” you whine in response, as he pushes is boxers down, his erection hitting up against his stomach. you moan then, seeing him stroke his cock at the sight of you, he chuckles, running his hand down his shaft at the way you’re whining for him.

“needy little slut, aren’t you?” you feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against your slick entrance as he lines himself up to you.

“your needy little slut” you say, grinding against his tip, your slick coating him. he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his voice low as he presses himself closer to you, stretching your cunt around him.

“of course you are” he’s spreading your legs and kissing you. he rocks his hips forward, not fucking you, but enough to make you moan, “tell me if you want to stop, okay?” with that, he pushes into you.

pushing his thick length into you in one stroke, the sudden stretch making you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on that soft spot,

“still so tight” he wastes no time starting to ove, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. “fuck, feels so fucking good” he kisses your neck, cooing at you. “pretty girl, look at you, taking it like such a good little slut.” he’s pulling your bra down, the flimsy lace pushed back. he fucks you harder, your tits bouncing with each hard thrust into you. you’re moaning lewdly as he thrusted forward, his cock stretching you open. it feels so good, the feeling of him filling you up. you cried out and gripped at his arms, each hard thrust fucking you into the mattress.

“fuck, steve, harder” he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the lost.

“you asked for it, doll” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted harder. “can you take this?” he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard. “you said you wanted it harder, didn’t you?”

your cheeks burn at the way he degrades your his relentless thrusts making the heat in your abdomen start to build. you’re moaning soft chants of ‘yes, please and steve’, babbling nonsensically through your moans. his thrusts are hard and deep, pushing against your walls, filling you in perfectly.

the rapid slap of skins fills the room as his hips pick up pace, slamming against yours with each thrust, the base of his cock grinding at your clit, the friction making you moan.

“fuck, taking me so well” he’s kissing your neck and playing with your tits, “you were made for me” he groans.

“oh my god” you moan as his cock pushes into you faster, the brutal snap of his hips making you cry out, you start babbling again, chasing your high. he feels so good inside of you, the roll of his hips bringing you closer to the edge.

he can tell you’re close, from the way your hips have started bucking upwards excitedly, grinding on his cock, the way your hands are gripping the nape of his neck. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you deeper as he angles his dick perfectly against your g-spot, ramming against it with every thrust.

“please, need it so bad” you beg, steve hums, his pace unflattering as he pounds into you,

“need what, baby?”

“need to cum” your voice sounds destroyed, “please-! please, need you to make me cum, steve” he grins, grabs your hips and lifts you up, fucking into you faster than before.

“only i can do this, huh?”

“you! only you, steve!” you moan out, trying desperately to press yourself against his his harsh hursts. you clamped around him as you felt your high building again. he must’ve felt it, reaching down between you two and pinching your clit, thrusts getting faster as you cried out.

“i want you to cum” he says, fucking you onto his cock, “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

his thumb rubs your clit faster, moving in time with his rapid thrusts, hips pistoling into you, fucking you hard as you came with a loud cry of his name, this one harder than the last. walls clenched hard around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, face screwed up in pleasure as you cry out his name, has him groaning. head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

“fuck, so good for me, honey” he kisses your shoulder. “such a good girl” he murmurs. he pulls out slowly and takes you in his arms, laying you down.

he starts getting up and you tug gently at his wrist. he kisses your forehead smiling.

“don’t worry, i’m just gonna get some things in the bathroom”

when he gets back, he throws you an old shirt, which you quickly put on.

“i can go, if you want to.” you mutter, looking down at your hands.

“what? no, are you crazy? stay. come on, lets watch that movie” he smiles at you, opening the tissue case.

“okay, i will then.” you couldn’t help but smile.

“hey, about that thing you said earlier” he looked into your eyes. “i love you too.”

tag: @nix-rose

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