#bless them they will have a long time to wait

[ghouljams]

This is just Regency!Ghost eating pussy... another aggressively typed piece from midnight that I fell asleep immediately after writing... When are these two gonna get married so they can fuck properly?

You barely have time to pull your skirts up as Simon falls to his knees, pushing you bodily back against the closed door as his arms wrap around your thighs to spread your legs. He makes room for himself, makes you accommodate his large frame. His head tips, eyes lidding as he stars at the space between your legs. He pulls his mask down, his lips already parting as his tongue teases between his teeth in anticipation of your taste. The black fabric bunches around his neck as his fingers leave it to dig into your plush thigh. Getting him between your legs isn't the problem, getting him out from between them is.

Terribly tempting though. Awfully tempting to see him on his knees; to see him so sincerely hungry for you. You swallow down your trepidation, raise your skirt higher for him, and feel him rock that much closer as you reveal more bare skin and soft sticky wetness. Simon's breathing is shallow, his chest heaving with each inhale, gulping down air like each breath might be his last. It might be with the way he attaches his lips to you.

He's so nice, starts so gently with you, kissing your slit like it's something precious to him. Lips press to your folds with a reverence you haven't even seen in church pews, pulling away only to press to another few centimeters of skin. He takes his time with you, thanking you for the blessing of your cunt, paying homage to every millimeter of worshipful skin. Heat throbs through the little bundle of nerves at the top of your slit, your cunt fluttering under his gentle ministrations. His tongue darts out to lick you, one long swipe that dips between your folds and laps at the slick dripping from you. It leaves him groaning. You tip your head back against the door and push your hand to your mouth in an attempt to stifle the whine that forces its way up your throat. It's a pathetic, needy, thing that makes Simon go back to his chaste kisses.

"So pretty for me," He tells you, his voice graveled and rough. You're beginning to wonder if swallowing down the wetness that flows from you like a faucet for him has some sort of negative effect on his voice. It never sounds worse than when he's between your legs, never sounds rougher, never makes your skin prickle with quite the same heat. He kisses your cunt, his lips parting to breathe a shaky exhale over your skin. He swallows, and opens again to scrape his teeth against you. Your hips jump into the feeling, his brows furrowing and his eyes fixed on the mess he's making.

"Cunt's gonna kill me," He rumbles, his cheeks flushed and his tongue swiping to drag the lingering wetness off his lips, "I can't wait." His mouth fixes itself to you and you keen into your hand at the hard suck to your clit before he starts to eat you in earnest. Your stomach twists tight, your pussy warm from the heat of his mouth and the heady drag of his tongue. You can't stop the soft breathy moans that drip from your lips, your clit still tingly and desperate for attention when he leaves it to swirl his tongue around your opening. You're halfway to grinding your hips against his face when he presses a finger into you.

You feel the burn of friction and stretch, the slow drag of his finger tugging at the soft muscle and exploring the fluttering walls of your cunt. His eyes meet yours, his lashes sweeping against his ruddy cheeks with each slow blink. Simon's tongue rolls over your clit, he lets you see it, lets you watch the way he moves as he laps at you. You feel like you must be pouting, your brows drawing together with want at each sinful pump of his finger. Your body responds to him even when you can't put the words to what you want, clenching around the digit to try and keep it inside. You feel so terribly... empty. It takes too little time before the stretch isn't enough, too little time before that delicious burn has evened out into a thrumming heat.

You press your hand harder against your lips to stop from begging for more. You have to be content with what he gives you. Canting your hips in a silent plea until he fills you with a second finger. The way he shifts his attention, his teeth scraping your clit as his fingers jab something tight and wet inside you. You press up on your toes, trying to get away from the feeling even when your hips push into it. He's relentless, quick and dirty, with his fingers. Your legs shake from the effort of holding yourself up, your stomach jumping and swirling with molten heat as he twists and fucks his fingers into you.

Simon holds his tongue out, lets you grind your clit against it while he works you with his fingers. You're too desperate to care for the propriety of it, eagerly moving your hips to try and push yourself over the tight edge you feel poised on.

"Simon," you whine, taking the chance on talking. You're quick to press your hand back where it was when he jabs his fingers against your sweet spot again and again. His pace is relentless, so fast you don't have the time to think of anything but the tight twisting heat that rips through you.

"That's it love," Simon encourages, turning to kiss your thigh, "say my name."

You don't get the chance to, your breath catching in your throat as every muscle in your body locks in place and you feel something warm and liquid drip from you. Simon groans low, knowing, and kisses your stomach, still pumping his fingers into you. When you can get your lashes to stop fluttering at the electric feeling of his fingers dragging over your sensitive walls, you glance down at him. He's got droplets of, well you assume it's from you, all over his shirt and jacket. He pulls his fingers from of you and drags them over his waiting tongue.

His eyes burn into you, making sure you're watching as he sucks them clean. As if he can't get enough of your taste.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x oc #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #f!reader #oc: goose #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #regency au #regency!ghost

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (31)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She couldn't believe it, but the measter left her with no illusions − after weeks filled with fear and prayers, a miracle had happened and she was expecting a child.

She knew it was a blessing from the heavens, that some women waited months or even years for their offspring.

She thought with joy that it was a sign that the gods were supporting them and their cause.

That they also did not desire war.

It seemed to her that, despite everything that had happened, her mother was also reassured and pleased by this information − by the thought that perhaps she would give birth to a son who could be declared heir to the throne and bring a solution that would at least partially satisfy all sides.

The only person who was not pleased by this news was Jace. He was the only one not to congratulate her, and at the common table he pretended not to see her, speaking only to his betrothed.

She realised that their mother, while protecting him all her life, had at the same time weakened him, allowing him to remain immature deep inside while maintaining a semblance of masculinity.

She decided, however, that it no longer mattered.

She eagerly awaited her husband's return, wanting to convey this wonderful news to him in person − she wished to see his reaction and enjoy the moment with him. She gushed with delight when one morning her servant announced that a message had arrived from Harrenhal, hoping that she would read in it when she would see him again.

Her anger at him was now completely passed, replaced by longing and desire to be reunited.

She unrolled the parchment, chewing on the piece of bread she had just had in her mouth, and began to read.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

She swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of discomfort and grief in her guts at the thought that the matter was not yet closed and there was no way of knowing when it would be.

The thought of further separation devastated her.

This made her come up with an idea that her mother did not approve of.

"No. You are carrying your child inside you, I will not let you fly to Harrenhal. It's too dangerous." She communicated to her clearly, shaking her head.

She pressed her lips together at her words, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"The journey to Harrenhal is not long. Who would attack me in the sky? My husband has informed me that the fortress is empty. I will be safe there. He is there to prove his loyalty to me and you."

Daemon chuckled at her words, shifting from foot to foot, amused.

"He's fixing something he destroyed himself. If he had said what he knows instead of playing with us, I would have taken care of the matter myself, and Larys Strong's head would have greeted visitors to Harrenhal on a spike." He said coldly, staring at her expectantly. She looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was what they were discussing then, on the seashore.

Daemon knew of what was about to happen to them and Aemond had thwarted his plans.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

"I…−"

"− I'll fly with you −" She heard Baela's voice and raised her gaze to her, surprised. Jace moved beside her uneasily.

"− what are you doing? −"

"− I've never seen Harrenhal − I'll make sure my cousin got there safely, rest a day or two in the fortress and return to Dragonstone −" Baela said without heeding her betrothed's impatient, furtive gaze.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, turning her head away, clearly frustrated that her daughter wanted to leave her family home, which she felt was the safest place possible for her.

"− if you lose this child −"

"− I won't lose it − I'll look out for myself − it'll be easier for me to calm down when I'm by his side knowing what's happening −" She explained, looking at her with a certainty from which her mother sighed heavily.

She and Baela set off before dawn the next day. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes at the thought that her child was leaving her again.

"− watch out for yourself − you are my only daughter −" She muttered with regret and pulled away, placing a lingering, warm, tender motherly kiss on her forehead.

She glanced at Daemon, who stood in the distance − he was looking at her with his chin raised high, as proud and filled with mockery as always. He nodded as if he accepted her choice, the fact that she had done what he demanded.

She had made a manly decision with all its consequences.

She was her husband's wife.

Flying in the skies alongside Baela and Moondancer, she wondered why she had never done this before; her cousin's dragoness was as beautiful and agile as Larax, her scales shining wonderfully in the light of the rising sun.

She was grateful to Baela for offering to fly with her − her company calmed her and gave her strength, a sense that she wasn't treating her like a traitor, that she was trying to understand her and help her as much as she could.

She thought with pain that if she had opened her heart to her earlier, they would have been close friends for years.

She hoped in her mind that they would make up for lost time when at last the succession issue would be finally resolved.

When peace would reign.

The journey to Harrenhal on the dragon's back proved to be quick and pleasant − they landed just outside the fortress when the sun was already lazily rising in the sky.

She couldn't stop the wide smile that appeared on her face, the rapid pounding of her heart or the trembling of her hands as she slid from her saddle and saw her husband step out of the stronghold gates to meet them, looking at her from afar.

She felt what she had experienced when she saw him for the first time after eight years then, in the courtyard of the Red Keep, when he was duelling with Criston Cole.

She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and whisper how much she missed him.

This time he didn't turn away, and she didn't hold back.

She laughed as she felt her legs begin to carry her forward on their own, her body filled with warm affection and emotion at the sight of his pain-filled disbelief.

As she fell into his arms, as she smelled his familiar scent again, she felt his hands catch her under her hips and lift her high. She threw her arms around his neck, her legs entwined around his waist as their lips came out to meet each other, locking in a sticky, messy, hot kiss from which they both sighed quietly.

She squirmed when she felt his tongue slide deep into her mouth, rubbing her palate, her walls clenched greedily as his throbbing manhood slapped against her lower abdomen, betraying how great his longing actually was.

She pulled away from him, breathing loudly as he did, wanting to look at him and noticed his hazy, dark gaze filled with desire, his lips, puffy from their caresses parted.

She sighed when his broad hand stroked her head and pressed her forehead against his, only to have their lips join again a moment later in a soft, warm kiss with a loud click of their saliva.

Only after a moment did she remember that she had not come alone.

She grunted quietly, pulling away from him − her husband glanced sideways and furrowed his brow, setting her back down on the ground, clearly unhappy with what he saw before him.

Their cousin stood a few steps behind her, smiling at her uncle with feigned affection and mockery, from which his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Baela accompanied me on the journey for my safety. Mother did not want me to fly to Harrenhal alone." She said quickly, wanting to calm the situation and what was surely just going on inside his head.

She saw him glance at her quickly at her words, as if surprised. He hummed under his breath and nodded − his expression softened, as if he recognised that this was indeed the right decision.

"I am grateful to you for your sacrifice, cousin. I will order a chamber to be prepared for you." He announced coolly and matter-of-factly − their cousin nodded, still smiling.

She knew she was trying to bring him out of balance, but there was nothing she could do with it.

As one of the servants took Baela to her quarters, her husband looked at her and licked his lower lip with his tongue, as if he was thinking deeply about something.

"− I must speak to you in private −"

"− I need to speak to you too −" She said cheerfully.

She was so eager to share this joyful news with him.

She closed the door behind her as soon as they crossed the threshold of his chamber, ready to tell him, but he grabbed her violently by the shoulder and turned her towards him, slamming her back against the wall.

She squealed when his lips pressed against hers as if he wanted to devour her, his tongue invading deep into her throat with his loud sigh on the edge of pain and relief.

"− w-wait − uncle − I must −" She mumbled as his hand clamped down impatiently on her breasts and his hips began to rub against her stomach − his manhood was all hard and swollen beneath his breeches, and the very thought made her feel the wonderful, familiar wetness between her thighs.

"− were you touching yourself? −" He breathed out into her mouth, as if he was in amok and hadn't heard her words, his hands trailing from her hair, down her neck, to her breasts and buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for so much.

"− I − y-yes − gods, Aemond −" She gasped in pleasure as one of his hands slid deep between her thighs − his fingers dug into her womanhood hidden beneath the fabric of her breeches, teasing and squeezing it, making her nipples harden all over with desire.

Only a sigh escaped her lips as he turned her with her face against the wall, his moist tongue running over her thrill-warmed neck, his twitching cock pressed against the place between her buttocks.

"− me too − every day −" He hummed into her ear, untying her breeches with his long, nimble fingers − she involuntarily pressed her cheek against the wall understanding and desiring whatever was about to happen, her fleshy insides clenching desperately around nothing.

"− morning and evening − thinking of this tight little cunt −" He gasped with delight, running his fingertips over her soft, plushy folds as he spoke the words, satisfied apparently that she was completely ready for him.

"− as always sticky and warm for her husband − hm? −" He hummed, sliding her breeches down with a single, sure flick of his hand.

She swallowed hard, feeling her thighs and what was between them being enveloped by the cool air of the room, her heart thumping like mad as she heard him try to deal with the material of his garment behind her back, his hot breath teasing her neck again and again.

"− yes − ah −" She mumbled when she felt him grab her with his arm around her waist and pull her hips closer, forcing her to buck her buttocks and bend over.

Pathetic, helpless moan broke from her throat when she felt how swollen the head of his cock was, with what difficulty he tried to force it between her slick, hot, puffy walls.

"− fuck − fuck −" He exhaled, with impatient thrusts of his hips invading deeper and deeper into her warm core, spreading her open on his fat erection.

She gasped, clenching her eyes shut, trying to keep her balance by leaning against the wall in front of her and fit what he was trying to force into her − she thought in disbelief that it seemed more swollen to her than usual, she could feel exactly every vein of it rubbing again and again the wonderful spot inside her.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mewled, moaning like a mere whore as he began to pound into her without any warning, opening her wide again and again on his throbbing cock with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

She felt her wetness run down her thighs − she knew he had seen it because she heard his low groan of pleasure.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He breathed out, leaning forward, slamming into her again and again as brutally and quickly as if he'd lost his mind − he leaned one of his hands against the wall just above her head, the other clenching at the same time on her hip, forcing her to take what he was giving her.

She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the tickling, hot sensation building up in her lower abdomen at a startlingly rapid pace, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts, meeting him halfway, clenching around his manhood, refusing to let him go.

Her nipples swelled wonderfully as she felt him press his face against her hair, as if he was drawn to her scent, groaning and panting along with her, thrusting into her so fast and deep that he was hardly sliding out of her.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He uttered with a heavy breath, and she felt that it was over for her − her body shook with a wonderful, tickling shudder that she felt in her mouth, in her fingertips, in her nipples and in her weeping cunt, which began to suck him inside her in an fulfilment so strong that for a moment she saw darkness before her eyes. She heard his surprised gasp of pleasure, followed by his loud sigh of relief.

She felt his hot seed fill her womb again, his hips rocking inside her for a moment longer, his face pressed into her neck, as if he wanted to prolong this wonderful moment.

They both couldn't catch their breath, panting and quivering, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her from slipping to the stone floor.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, and she sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily, tired and fulfilled.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together into a thin line, for some reason feeling a squeeze in her throat, a wonderful elation at the thought that he craved her presence so much, that he missed her as much as she missed him.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed and heard him sigh in relief, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her neck.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, as if he didn't want to bother himself with this topic, having her at his fingertips again. She smiled at his question, placing her hand on his arm, with which he embraced her at the waist.

Her heart sang with joy.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

She felt him freeze behind her, his breath caught in his throat.

"− what? −" He muttered, as if he thought he had overheard himself and needed her to say those wonderful words again.

She smiled under her breath feeling that, for the first time in months, happiness and hope filled her. With a soft movement, she grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand on her lower abdomen, pressing it against her bare skin. She heard him swallow loudly, taken aback in disbelief.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −" She hummed, turning to face him over her shoulder − her breath caught in her throat when she heard him laugh.

It was not a mocking or cold sound, more an expression of joyful disbelief, there was a warmth and happiness in his gaze from which she felt moved.

She felt the tips of his fingertips dig into the soft skin of her stomach, his lips found hers in a greedy, wet, deep kiss, his half-soft manhood pulsed deep inside her again.

"− Rheanys − oh gods − this must be a dream −" He breathed out into her mouth, slipping his slick tongue deep into her throat, panting with delight − her walls squeezed him tight with pleasure as she felt him involuntarily begin to root into her again with the tentative, soft thrusts of his hips.

"− then it is a good dream −" She whispered tenderly into his mouth and he murmured loudly, saying no more.

This time, knowing she was expecting his child, he took her to his bed, wanting to look at her face and what he was doing to her, panting into her mouth at how much she pleased him, how well she did, already carrying his offspring in her womb.

He pulled their garments off of them, ripping his eye patch from his face, wanting to be vulnerable with her, wanting to be exposed with her.

She knew what she was to him at that moment.

A dragon egg that had cracked.

As his swollen manhood pushed against her moist slit again, he slid into her with ease, slowly and unhurriedly this time, merely rocking his hips back and forth inside her, making her lips part in delight at how gentle and tender the experience was.

His cheek snuggled into her hair and his face sank into the pillow under her head as if he didn't want her to see the expression on his face, how much pleasure he was getting from this soft intimacy.

They both moaned shyly as he slowly began to accelerate his pace, each time slapping his bare skin against her buttocks − her lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on his bare shoulder and neck, her hands ran down his back and buttocks making his soaked cock pulsate impatiently deep inside her.

"− I've missed you −" She whispered, answered by his low sigh, his hand blindly finding her breast and squeezing it lightly, as if the sensation of that plump, soft structure under his fingers gave him a sense of security and reassured him.

"− me too −" He muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, a lazy smile filled with happiness spread across her face as she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

When it was all over, her husband, all breathless and sweaty, laid his head on her womb, facing her, looking down at her belly, running the tips of his fingers over it as if he was thinking about what was hiding under her skin.

"− how did you find out? − are you absolutely sure? −" He whispered, as if doubts were beginning to invade him, as if he feared it was too beautiful to be true. She sighed quietly at his words, the smile never leaving her face.

"− I fainted and was examined by the maester − I am sure −"

At her words her uncle furrowed his brow, raising the gaze of his healthy eye at her, his sapphire shone dangerously in the sunlight.

"− you fainted? −"

"− yes − I despaired because I didn't know when or if I would see you again −" She mumbled in embarrassment, combing his long, snow-white hair with her fingers. He closed his eye and murmured contentedly, opening his eyelid again after a moment.

"− if you had only written to me − I would have flown to Dragonstone immediately −"

"− I was afraid my message would fall into the wrong hands − I didn't want to take the risk −"

Her husband hummed at her words.

"− wise girl −"

She smiled, letting him place a warm, moist kiss on the skin of her lower abdomen.

"− I have a gift for you −" He murmured, running his fingers over the hot skin of her stomach. She looked at him, surprised, her heart beating harder in excitement.

"What's it?" She asked, curious.

"I give Harrenhal into your possession. I hand it over to you in my letter, which I have already sent to King's Landing. The fortress is your property until your death. It will then fall as a inheritance to our offspring."

She blinked, twisting in her place, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing that he grinned, she covered her mouth and giggled like a little girl, unable to contain the joy and warmth that spread through her body.

"Do you mean it?" She mumbled, unable to believe that he could do such a thing without consulting his brother and mother.

That he had made this decision alone.

Her husband hummed under his breath, trailing his fingers from her lower abdomen to her chest making goosebumps appear in the places he ran over her bare skin.

"You are your father's daughter. This is your legacy." He replied, his wide hand stroking her belly with a tenderness from which shivers ran through her.

"And my brothers?" She muttered, reminding herself that, after all, her father, although she didn't know him very well, had sons too. Her uncle smirked at her in a way that was disturbing, to say the least.

"I don't give a shit about your brothers." He sneered, making her swallow hard, wrinkling her eyebrows but unable to hide the smile of amusement from which his face lit up.

"You're cruel." She mumbled, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her fingers, softening her words and their overtones in the process. Her husband snorted at her words.

"I am. I am a walking cruelty." He whispered maliciously before he lifted himself on his hands, moving towards her, leaning over her face − his tongue invaded deep between her lips with his hum as his mouth pressed against hers in a loud, sticky, messy kiss.

She squirmed as his fingers slid from her womb between her thighs, warningly beginning to tease and squeeze her sore bud, puffy from earlier caresses and fulfillments.

"− uncle −" She mewled weakly into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tickle in her lower abdomen again, tentatively parting her thighs apart, his half-hard erection slapping impatiently against her belly, demanding her attention.

"− I warned you −" He exhaled, shifting the weight of his body to his elbow, spreading her legs apart with his knee. "− open −"

She obeyed his command obediently and whimpered loudly with exertion as she felt him try to force his long, throbbing manhood into her again with the impatient thrust of his hips.

She threw her head back as he finally broke between her oversensitive, swollen walls, pulsing around him in panic, her short nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as he began to sink into her again, panting with pleasure.

She felt her moisture mingled with his seed ran down her buttocks.

"− too much −" She mumbled out, moaning each time he teased the sore, swollen spot deep inside her again, trying to pull out of him at the same time and bucking her hips in response to his thrusts, feeling both the discomfort and the wonderful, tickling pleasure shaking her body.

"− shhh − I know − we'll take it slow − there's no reason to rush −" He whispered tenderly, placing comforting, soft, warm kisses on her face, leaning on one forearm, his other hand stroking her effort-warmed cheek, as if trying to give her reassurance.

"− I warned you − I warned you that I wouldn't pull it out of you today − didn't I? − is your husband lying? −" He cooed, as if he were speaking to a small, frightened child. She shook her head, struggling to fit him deep inside her again and again, feeling his thighs hit her buttocks with loud splats of their shared wetness.

"− n-no − no, husband −" She mumbled, looking up at him pleadingly, running her hand over his scarred cheek, her puffy lips parted in heavy breaths. He gasped with satisfaction at her words, pressing his forehead against hers, with slow, deep thrusts making his way to his next fulfilment.

"− just like that − let me do my duty to my wife − as many times − ah − as necessary −" He exhaled, quickening his pace, swollen and already completely hard deep inside her, slamming into her with greedy, sure thrusts from which she felt like she was losing touch with reality, the chamber around them, the bed she lay on seemed blurred to her, she could only smell his scent, only feel the strong grip of his hands.

"− g-gods, Aemond −’" She mumbled out, feeling the way his bare chest pressed against hers with his low groan of satisfaction, her nipples rubbing against his exposed skin with his every push making his cock pulsate aggressively inside her with pleasure, intensifying her sensation.

She gasped when she felt him grab her thigh and lift her leg higher, putting her knee on his shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"− uncle, what are you − o-oh, fuck, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle −" She whined out, tilting her head back with her lips parted in disbelief, her eyes closed with her loud, shameless moans as she felt him like never before, his entire length pressing wonderfully against a place inside her with each of his thrusts, from which her body quivered all over with pleasure, writhing before him.

Nothing more than a babble and a plea left her lips as he watched her in awe, not slowing his pace, placing hot, sticky kisses on her knee, stroking her thigh with his wide hand, panting loudly along with her.

Something like a smirk of satisfaction flashed across his face as she threw her other leg over his shoulder on the other side of his head, his body leaning over her in such a way that she could in no way escape his brutal thrusts, which again and again teased the intensely oversensitive spot inside her.

"− I can't − I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, p-please −" She cried out, but her husband didn't stop, bringing her to a state where pleasure different than usual took her speechless − she felt a sudden, wonderful relief, her walls began to squeeze and suck him inside her, she heard him hiss quietly, clearly feeling what she was feeling.

He groaned low as he came a moment later, clenching his eye, panting hard and swallowing loudly as he looked down at the sheets beneath them, under which a huge wet spot had formed.

"− did I hurt you? or the baby? −" He exhaled horrified, thinking that perhaps she had miscarried due to his brutal treatment, however there was no blood after all. She shook her head, rising on her elbow, struggling to collect her thoughts, panting loudly, her body quivering all over.

"− no − b-but − this time − it was different − I mean − my fulfilment was different − and then I felt...this −" She muttered in shame, feeling that her whole buttocks were wet. Her uncle swallowed hard at her words, embarrassed, his lips tightened into a thin line as he looked at their sticky bodies.

"− I − I think I read about it − in one of the books −" He said uncertainly and grunted softly, sliding out of her gently with a click of their shared wetness. She hissed quietly, pulling away and noticed a large, colourless stain under her buttocks, as if someone had poured water there.

"− the maester wrote in it that a woman is also able to − well − come as well as a man if she is properly… teased inside −" He hummed, licking his lower lip involuntarily, looking at the stain beneath them as if he was proud of his achievement.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and giggled involuntarily, feeling some kind of relief.

"− what kind of books do you read, uncle? − what would your mother and Ser Criston say? −" She sneered, smiling broadly. Her husband threw her a frustrated look, which however softened after a moment, his grimace turning into a mischievous smirk.

"− in the same book I also read about this position − after I became your husband I began to delve into the mysteries of these…sensations − what else can I do with you −" He murmured, running his index finger along her thigh, a glint of satisfaction and contentment in his eye from which she sighed heavily.

She leaned back and made herself comfortable on the bedding, shifting her body closer to him so that she wasn't lying on a wet spot. Her uncle leaned on his elbow, watching her intently in silence − they stared at each other for a moment, with only the rustle of leaves and birdsong outside the open window around them.

"− I'd like to rest now −" She muttered, running her knuckles over his bare chest. Her husband hummed quietly under his breath and nodded, his broad hand stroking her head.

"− sleep − rest after the journey −" He murmured, combing his fingers through her hair the way he had when they were children. She closed her eyes and purred softly when she felt him lay his head beside her, his gaze on her face, his warm breath enveloping her cheek as his free hand covered their naked bodies with warm furs.

"− do not fret − your husband is by your side now −"

_____

Author note: Those who were to know know. I promised you, didn't I? Hehehe. 👀👀👀👀👀

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond one eye #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond angst #canon aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond x female #aemond x female character #aemond x oc #aemond x original character #aemond x original female character #aemond hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd angst #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell angst #aemond x wife

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Tour, which affords me the opportunity to be supremely self-indulgent]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) 13: laugh

Is this still the number for John Watson?

John pauses, thumb hovering. Before he can choose a response, another message flashes in.

It's Harry

He nearly drops the phone. Or maybe he nearly throws it against the wall. Hard to say. 

His reflex to caretake wars with his lingering resentment of her absence. But he knows he would regret ignoring an olive branch… or whatever this is.

Hi

Everything okay?

No small talk, got it

Yes I'm fine, good in fact

and no I'm not going to ask you for money

He breathes in deeply.

I'm glad things are going well for you

And he is, at least in the abstract.

Thanks

I know this is the part where I'm supposed to ask how you are

But you know I'm pants at texting

Can we just have coffee or something?

John taps his phone to his lip absently and considers his options. A public reunion seems like it could be a volatile mistake, not to mention it's 7pm on a weekday. Sherlock is at the lab, Rosie is having her after-supper blanket time, and John is catching up on charting.

And to be honest, he's pretty bored.

Come to mine for tea?

Harry's three dots wibble for a while, which John supposes is fair.

Right now?

With my schedule, I have to take opportunities where I can

Okay, yeah, I'm free

He sends her the address, feeling both pleased and annoyed. One would think that hitting his own rock bottom would make him more sympathetic towards his sister. But really, it just piles helpless anger on top of guilt on top of anger, ad nauseum.

He's not even sure she knows he's a father, for Christ's sake.

Turns out, she doesn't. She walks through the door he holds open for her, and stops abruptly when she sees Rosie. 'Oh my God,' she breathes, staring. 'Oh my God. You--' She turns to John, eyes wide. 'She-- Johnny. She's yours?'

He nods, and despite everything, he feels his face curve into a proud smile. 'Her name's Rosie.'

'Can I--' Harry indicates the blanket with a sharp movement. 'Can I say hello to her?'

'Yeah, course.' He follows her, and folds himself down behind Rosie. 'Sweetheart, this is your Aunt Harry.'

Harry makes a bit of a squawking noise, probably at the 'aunt' bit, but tamps it down. 'Hi, Rosie,' she manages, her voice rough but determined. 'It's lovely to meet you. What are you playing with?'

'Avocados,' Rosie mostly manages to say, then holds one up for Harry without hesitation. Harry takes it with a giggle, and before long they're thick as thieves with a pile of emoting avocados between them.

Harry glances up at him when there's a lull. 'So. The dad life is treating you well, yeah?'

He hesitates, then nods. 'It is now.'

She eyes him, but doesn't ask about what came before now. Instead, she says, 'I'm just going to ask, alright -- who's the other parent?'

He raises an eyebrow. 'Why d'you say there is one?'

Her eyes twinkle. 'Because you do not have the fashion sense to have bought her this outfit. Your bird rich, then?'

He coughs. 'Well. No.'

She waits, though he can see she's trying not to be annoyed by his reticence. She's never understood people wanting to keep things private. 'No?'

'My… flatmate. He's able to buy her things I don't give a toss about, yeah.'

She blinks. 'You have a gay flatmate?'

John feels his ears heat up. 'I do, yeah.'

She seems weirdly impressed. 'You've come a long way from being a rugby lad, haven't you?'

He snorts. 'I'm learning how to do plaits, if you'll believe it.'

'She's not got enough hair for that yet.'

'Sherlock--the flatmate--insists it's a useful skill, though I've no idea why.'

She doesn't reply, and he looks up from where he's helping Rosie with her current avocado. 'What?' he asks, though he knows it's useless. Harry is no Sherlock but honestly, she doesn't have to be, because his emotions have always been written all over his face. It's a curse and a blessing.

'Oh holy shit,' she breathes out.

'Language,' he admonishes reflexively.

'Sorry, I mean-- Holy noses, Johnny.'

'Don't be smug.'

'Oh, I take no credit for this, I always knew the overcompensating locker room talk was hiding something.'

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching. 'Yeah, insecurity about willy size.'

'Okay, ew, first of all. Second of all-- What the--' He gives her a warning look. 'Ever-loving heck.'

'Short version?' She nods quickly. He decides to also give her the slightly-less-mad-sounding version. 'Got married, got pregnant, had baby, wife passed away, realised I had feelings for my flatmate. Who is a man. And who is effectively fathering my child.'

She claps her hand over her mouth, and for a moment he fears she's going to cry, but then realises she's laughing.

'Oi, that's just not on,' he protests.

'But it's ridiculous!' She holds out a hand to him placatingly, speaking through continued laughter. 'It's lovely and sad and all that, but you have to admit--'

There are tears escaping the corners of her eyes, and he feels it begin to bubble up in his chest, too. Her laugh has always been a thing of beauty, of loud, annoying, contagious, unforgettable beauty, and he can't help it.

And she's right, really. It is kind of ridiculous.

He lets out his own laugh, finally, and reaches for her hand.

[❤️]

#it's gonna be MAY 2024 #May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #Parentlock

[helloaugustmoon]

·˚ ◌༘͙[his favourite thing about you…] ! ˊ

If you ask him his favorite thing about you, Michael will laugh and say “Everything, baby!”, and if you insist on the question, he’ll start pacing because he doesn’t want to disappoint you by not answering you, but he sincerely does not want to have to choose one specific thing about you that he loves more than the rest of you; that thought makes him feel sick with guilt, so it’s best you don’t ask him this question. However, if you were able to take a peek into his mind, or perhaps if you were particularly observant with Michael’s behaviors, you’d discover his favorite parts of you that he may not even willingly admit to himself.

Above all else, Michael’s favorite thing about you is your heart, your mind, your very being. He loves the way you think, how your mind works, how you express your feelings, your love for him, your love for anything else. He adores the ways in which you inspire him, each and everyday, in every conceivable way. That’s a poetic answer Michael will be happy to give, if you can get through his stressed-and-pacing headspace and make him aware that there is such a thing.

When it comes to your body, though, Michael is beyond the realms of devoted. At his core, he is a man, so is a natural lover of the most intimate parts of you, but his adoration runs so much deeper than that. He loves your silhouette, seeing it displayed in the form of a shadow; he loves the curve of your hips, your waist, your legs, and he will sing your praises (literally) for every intricate detail of your body. But, if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice that Michael does - very subtly - favor your face, specifically your eyes and lips. You are the person to see the eyes behind his sunglasses more than anyone else, and if Michael could dedicate his life to staring into your eyes, he would in a heartbeat. And your lips? Every time you speak, it’s like he’s watching a tennis match between your eyes and lips, the way his gaze flits from one to the other. There is no better feeling in Michael’s mind than your lips on him, blessing him with the sweetest kisses. While he does, obviously, love kisses that he can return, the way the feeling of your lips lingers on his cheeks long after your kisses have left his skin…it’s heaven, and that heaven can’t wait. To say Michael’s a sucker for your kisses just doesn’t cut it.

“Baby, baby, one more. Just one more.” He pleads, his voice no more than a soft murmur against your lips, barely kissing yours in between words because if you call them out he’ll tell you these kisses don’t count.

“Hm, just the one?” You question quietly, a little breathless.

“Three more. Maybe four. A hundred, my girl, if you’ll let me.” Michael’s voice is no more than a whisper now, and with his last syllable, his lips are on yours and there’s no room for another word.

And the next time that kiss needs to pause for a breath, he’ll be asking you all over again.

#michael jackson x reader #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #x reader #headcannon

[tsunami-of-tears]

Draw me like one of your fae girls

Feyre x Reader (sapphic)

A/N: okay I may have plotted too hard before the porn

Thank you so much to ✨ anon who sent this request in. I’ve diverged a little bit, but most of your points are covered 💛

Wordcount: 2.4K

Warnings: Female reader; we have a little bit of angst/pining; smut (oral - f!receiving, fingering, soft d/s, mommy kink)

The rushing of the Sidra, a crisp breeze rustling through the trees, the soft tap of footsteps on the cobblestone streets, people laughing and chattering as they mill about. Velaris, the city for the dreamers. 

I meander through the artist’s quarter, arms full of my new supplies. A big gust of wind blows down the street and I spin to shield my face, clutching the bundle close to my chest. As I turn, a sign comes into view: 

“Help wanted. Any artistic experience is desirable. Enquire within.”

What are the chances? I’ve been looking for a new job, and being surrounded by art all day sounds like a dream come true. I shift my supplies into one arm and open the door. 

Inside the studio is bright and welcoming. Easels line the room, some holding paintings in various stages of completion. The walls are scattered with artwork, all portraying different subjects– flowers in vases, scenes of restaurants by the Sidra, a boy throwing a ball in the park– all breathing life into the space. Vibrant, joyous life. 

A high-fae female stands behind one of the easels, she has smears of yellow paint on her cheek and smock. Her grey-blue eyes are narrowed in concentration and waves of gold are tied messily in a bun on her head. She bites on her lower lip as she continues painting, her nose scrunching ever so slightly. 

She is captivating. 

She looks up from her work, finally noticing my presence in the room. 

“Oh hello there. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in. My name is Feyre,” she smiles warmly at me before setting down her brush and palette. She wipes her hands on her smock, though it doesn’t help much. 

“It’s okay, I just got here. I’m Y/N, I saw your sign outside.” I return Feyre’s smile, and gesture to the door behind me. 

“That didn’t take long,” she laughs. “I put that sign up an hour ago. You’re an artist?”

“Yes, I paint and draw, but my preferred medium is ceramics. I like using my hands.” 

“We have that in common,” she says, her smile turning slightly playful. “I’m looking for someone to assist during classes. It’s gotten so busy, which is wonderful, but my attention is stretched too thin. Do you think that’s something you’re interested in?” 

I nod eagerly, “Absolutely. It’s my dream to be surrounded by art all day. Would you like to see some of my work? The sculptures are difficult to transport but I can deliver some of my sketchbooks.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not required for the position. How soon can you start?” 

I blink a few times, repeating her words in my head to make sure I heard Feyre correctly. “Does next week work?”

———— 

I’m unpacking the fired pottery from the kiln a few months later. Feyre had bought it soon after I started working for her. With her blessing, I’d begun teaching ceramics classes. This last batch was from my regular students who attend once a week.

I’m holding the last piece when Feyre enters. “Wow, these are amazing. You’re doing so well with the students,” she beams. 

“It’s all them,” I respond, setting down the pot carefully.

“Don’t do that,” Feyre tuts. “You’re a great teacher and I’m thrilled to have you working with me.” 

“Thanks, Feyre. I really love it. It’s so rewarding.”

“I’m still waiting on my personal lesson though,” she laughs. “Are you still up for drinks tonight?”

“Definitely. I just need to reload the kiln, the next batch should be dry enough.” 

———— 

Feyre and I walked to the bar arm-in-arm, already giggling at each other and we hadn’t started drinking yet. Since I joined Feyre’s studio, we’ve developed a close friendship, though a small piece of my heart yearns for more. 

She’s mated, I remind myself for the hundredth time. 

As we enter the dimly lit bar, Ressina spots us, calling us over to her booth. I take a seat next to another instructor, Coral, and Feyre slides in beside me. Across from us sits Ressina and her partner, Pollux. 

Ressina had bought a round of drinks for our group just before we arrived. We raise our glasses, clinking them together in cheers before taking a sip. 

“Coral was just telling us about her hot date last night,” Ressina explains. 

“Don’t sound so excited,” Pollux says sarcastically. 

“Oh it’s just fun, we have to live vicariously through our single friends. Feyre gets it, right?” Ressina gestures vigorously towards Feyre.

“Oh actually,” Feyre says, “I might be back on the market.” She takes a casual sip from her drink, as if she had just said the most mundane sentence in the world. 

My jaw drops and my eyes widen in alarm. Across the table, our friends are sporting similar expressions. No one saw that coming. 

“Oh no, not like that!” She quickly reassures us. “Rhys and I are quite happy, we’re just finding it a bit… stagnant. We’ve discussed it at length, and have decided to open our marriage one weekend every month.” 

“Wow Feyre,” Coral says. “Are you and Rhys equally excited about that?” 

Feyre smiles, looking down at her glass, the flush on her cheeks deepening in colour. “We’ve both got different reasons for wanting it but yes, we are. I’ve had my eye on someone,” Feyre’s gaze meets mine for a split second, “and Rhys knew that. It took a lot of conversations to figure out our boundaries, and they’ll likely evolve over time, but we’re taking the first step.” 

“Well congratulations,” Pollux says, raising his glass before taking a swig.

“Thank you,” Feyre says, her eyes finding mine again. I can detect a hint of… longing? Surely not. This wine must be going straight to my head. 

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch. We drink and talk and dance until late into the night when we stumble out of the bar, waving goodbye to our friends who are heading in the opposite direction. Feyre’s arm is wrapped over my shoulders as I do my best to keep her upright. 

“Mmms love you, Y/N,” Feyre slurs, drawing out the syllables of my name. 

“I love you too, Fey,” I answer, quickly grabbing her forearm to stop her falling to the ground. 

“You’re the bestest,” she sighs, slumping in my arms. 

Just as I’m wondering how we’re going to walk home, the darkness in front of us ripples, revealing Feyre’s mate. 

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys coos, scooping her into his arms like she weighs nothing; a stark contrast to my earlier struggles. Feyre wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. My heart constricts at the sight.

“Perfect timing,” I smile tightly in an attempt to hide my true feelings. 

“The bond was muffled and I got worried, though I now understand why,” Rhys explains. 

Right, the bond. 

“You must be Y/N,” Rhys continues. “She talks about you often.” He smiles, looking down at the female cradled in his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her, do you need to be dropped home?” 

“No, thank you. The walk will sober me up.”

“Of course, I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point. Goodnight, Y/N.” Rhys inclines his head before disappearing into the night with Feyre safely in his arms. 

The walk home certainly was sobering. How could I be silly enough to believe she thought of me in any light other than as a friend? Surely she meant she was opening her marriage to other males. Not me.

———— 

A few weeks after our night out, I’ve finally given in to teaching Feyre how to use a pottery wheel. She’d been gushing over my latest collection all week - a series of vases celebrating the divine feminine, the Mother. She was dying to get her hands dirty, quite literally. 

The reason I was hesitant to teach Feyre wasn’t because of her artistic talents. No, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her confession. I hadn’t stopped hoping she meant me.

Feyre is perched on a stool across from me, the pottery wheel in between us with a lump of earthenware clay. Feyre had quickly picked up how to work the peddle, now she just needed to use her hands to shape the clay.

She put her fingers into the centre of the ball like I demonstrated, easing the sides outwards as it spins. As she concentrates, her nose scrunches up and she bites her lip. It’s the same face she always makes when she’s engrossed in creating something. 

“It keeps getting wider, how do I make it go back in again?” Feyre asks. 

“Here,” I put my wet hands on top of Feyre’s, helping her ease the clay in the direction she wanted. “Perfect,” I smile. Feyre looks up from her work to smile back at me. With her focus shifted, her foot slips and the wheel spins out, spraying both of us with muddy water. We both erupt in giggles as we look at the mess covering each other. 

“And I thought painting was a messy hobby,” Feyre laughs. 

———— 

Feyre finished her creation - a simple round vase that she has plans to paint once it’s fired. 

The two of us are cleaning up our tools and hands in the large basin. The laughter from earlier is gone,  leaving us with a comfortable silence. 

Feyre sighs, “It’s the last weekend of the month.”

“I do have a calendar,” I tease. 

“No I mean, it’s the weekend Rhys and I decided on.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “Do you have anything planned?” 

“I have someone I’d like to ask, but I’ve been a bit worried about how they’ll react,” Feyre admits. 

My heart breaks a little bit at her admission. “You do not need to be worried, you’re gorgeous. I doubt anyone could reject you.”

“I guess,” Feyre sighs.

The silence has now grown deafening between you. 

Finally, Feyre breaks it. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks. 

“Hey, I thought we were talking about you here!” I exclaim. 

“We still are. I was hoping you’d like to join me.”

Oh. 

OH.

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I know my mouth has fallen open. 

I look down, unable to meet her gaze as my heart races, the sound pounding in my ears.  “Yeah, I would like that,” I respond. 

———— 

Kissing Feyre was everything. 

Soft lips against mine. Soft hair between my fingers. 

Her scent is dizzying. 

This kiss is all-consuming. 

Every thought, every touch, it’s all her. 

Slowly, her hands slip down my body. Brushing down my neck, grazing over my breasts. 

We’re in her townhouse. I’m lying on the couch with Feyre on top of me, her thighs on either side of my hips. 

We barely made it through the front door before our hands and lips were all over each other. 

Feyre sits up, panting as she regains her breath. She peels off her top, throwing it to the side before doing the same with mine. 

“I can’t believe you asked,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” she retorts, leaning down to kiss me again. 

Feyre kisses down my exposed neck, teasing along my collarbone, surely littering my skin with marks. 

She keeps kissing lower, taking one of my hardened nipples into her mouth and sucking. She takes the other between her thumb and finger, pinching softly. I gasp at the sensation, my hips roll, desperately begging for more.

Feyre hums against my chest, nipple still in her mouth as she grazes it with her teeth, eliciting another gasp from me. 

“You make such pretty sounds,” she says, swinging her leg over my body to stand on the floor. Feyre extends her hand for me to take. “Let’s go somewhere with more room, I want to explore every inch of you.” 

I take her hand, following her upstairs to the bedroom. 

We remove the rest of our clothes before Feyre motions for me to lie in the centre of the wide bed. She crawls between my legs, her face hovering centimetres above mine, her hand gentle against my cheek. 

Feyre leans down to kiss me again. Each stroke of her tongue is intentional. 

I wonder what that tongue would feel like in other places. 

I’m not left wondering for long as Feyre moves down my body. She pauses above my exposed sex, stroking down the outside of my thighs. 

“So pretty,” she says. “May I?” 

“Please,” I moan. 

“Such good manners too baby,” Feyre purrs, dipping her head between my legs.

She starts slow, lapping at me like a cat laps at milk. 

My hips start rolling and she presses them down firmly. 

“So responsive,” she laughs and I whine at the loss of contact. 

Feyre goes in with her fingers next, softly tracing along my clit at an agonising pace. 

I moan as the strokes turn to circles, giving me even more friction. My eyes close, allowing my body to focus on the feeling. 

“I like that noise,” she says, “but what sound do you make when I do this–” Her fingers slide down inside me and she starts to fuck me slowly. My moans get even louder as she starts to curl her fingers, hitting my sweet spot. I writhe beneath her fingers and she starts to pick up her pace. 

“You’re doing so good baby, tell Mommy how good it feels,” Feyre says, lowering her mouth to my clit once again. 

“Mmmm Mommy, feels so good. Mm so close.” I babble, eyes rolling as Feyre’s tongue circles my clit in tandem with her fingers. 

“Cum for me baby,” Feyre says, her fingers keeping their steady pace. 

A few more hard thrusts are all it takes to send me barrelling over the edge, crying out as the waves of pleasure roll over me. 

“Such a good girl,” Feyre says, slowing her thrusts as I ride out the high. 

My body stills as Feyre crawls beside me, wrapping her arms around me. She softly kisses the top of my head as I sigh contentedly. 

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asks. 

“Phenomenal.” 

Feyre laughs at my answer. “Are you tired, or do you want to keep going?” she questions.  

“I’m not even close to being done, it’s your turn.”

“Well then, come here and show Mommy some appreciation.” 

“Gladly.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #requests #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #feyre x y/n #feyre oneshot #acotar #acomaf #feyre smut

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

ASTROLOGY EDITION - THE SENSUAL APPEAL OF THE NAKSHATRAS

Hey, so I've been more focused on the nakshatras lately.. and love getting into how sensual, flirtatious, raw and powerful some of the nakshatras could be. I may start this off with just the nakshatras itself, focusing on the sign and its energy as opposed to the planets in each of these naks. So yeah. Lets get into it ;)

So first is up, Hasta. There the ones who really inspired me to do this so here we go.

Hasta - Delicate. Refined. Opened Hearts. Very sensual beings who know how to ease you into to their souls. They have a replenishing auras that could fulfill the desires of another. Oop, did I say that? They are indeed the temptress, the ones that will make you fall in love with, as they know you will never get anything from the in return. Having been hurt in the past, they usually carry themselves with a tight armor, only this time they know they wont have to... Because someone will always take the bait ;)

Hastas are truly amazing at crafting their hearts into the desires that they want. So much so, they'll utilize their sex appeal in order to get what they want. Very smart, coi and productive... Their like the jaguar you dont see coming. They always get what they want, because others are more than likely to give to the hastanian babe whenever they please.

Rohini - Ooooooh! They are sooo seductive. They have a quiet temper that is aroused when the right soul meets into their arms. They're only lovers for the plot. If it gets too deep and on the wrong foot then their outta here. Sorry busta!If you don't give it to them the right way, then they won't be here for long. They are only here for one purpose, and that is to fulfill their desires in more ways than one. Like their hasta friends, they know how to go for what they want, and they'll get it by any means necessary.

There temptress powers they carry can attract an audience if they let it. There touch can last for hours, penetrating into the skin like magic. They are the doorway to salvation. Pleasure is their profound language. It is a blessing and a curse to be this type of delight. A special occasion, they keep anyone anyway who is not deserving of their love.

Anuradha - I feel like this one deserves a round of applause ONLY because they do not share these gifts so easily. The people could want more but that isn't enough. Once they get a hold of your tempting magic people will definitely try and take you to the pits of hell. So its kept in a jar, locked away for a while until the anuradha babe is ready to go for the kill. When she wants it, she will. And when mama's hungry, shes gonna eat ;) Siren-like eyes that can penetrate into your soul. It can spook you ;) But all the Anuradha wants is to entice, it is how she gets what she desires. She has a flow that is naturally pulling like the Jyestha, we don't know what it is but its powerful, convincing, and its rare. The anuradha is the type to pull yu in, to the point that when she catches you in her spell.. she will eat you alive. Its better to stay away if you dont want to be bit, but her allure is just so damn powerful. It'll have you begging for more.

Krittikas - Their raw sexuality will pour into your skin, and before you know it.. they've already gotten you into their mini web. Darling.. the ones who where this nakshatra on their sleeves use every bit of their power to seduce the right one.. sometimes it catches others too. There striking presence keeps the others wondering where have they been all of their life. The one who moves to the beat of their own drum, tameless. It is why so many try to focus on wooing you in order to make you into what THEY want you to be.. and you beat em at their game every time. The seductive prowess they carry show a reflective force from the moon down to the sun, with its rays being so powerful it has everyone looking at them.. waiting to explore what is deep inside the krittika, only to be found later in their dungeon. Taking their souls, and never to be heard of again.

Shravana - They have a very powerful aura that pushes the narrative about themselves. They have the gift that keeps on giving. They know what to do with their seduction, its the one that gets them the highest bidder! What shapes you, is the power of the mind, the soul and the spirit. So they do themselves the diligence to create from within, and not without. They are hungry to learn more about their presence as their gifts connect to the souls of thousands.. What I mean is that these babes have a gift of opening up the godlike force that many try to emulate.. but many can't do. There seductive prowess inspires thousands to watch them as they watch to the shravana native, craving for their affection.. As they can be so very giving, but with a price. It all comes down to them wanting to be at the top, and they'll whatever they can to get it. It comes with a sense of ease, and they'll choose their favorite worshiper to teach ;)

Mula - HOT HOT HOT!!!!!! They don't even know how deep this goes.. but they penetrate into your skin with no effort. There gift is in spiking you with their mind, and leading you in with their heart.. They know how to entice you into doing for them and fitting to their needs.. You wont even blink an eye and yet wont even care. You'll just be glad to be in their presence is all. They have a special aura that most find pretty enchanting, and their souls spark a conversation one what makes them so unique.. because most people are mystified by them and begin to take notes.. but they will never know what that is to be exact. Which is what makes their seductive prowess just that damn good. It exists for them and them alone.. if they decide to share this with you consider yourself LUCKY.. Because they like you more than the rest, and who they are and how they carry themselves is a gift you when they want to share it.. Whew.. they'll really touch you in ways you won't forget.

I will post on the rest of them soon. Let me know in the comments how you feel about the nakshatras !!

#rohini #krittika #jytesha #astro vedic #vedic astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astro observations #astrology sidereal #sidereal charts #sidereal astro #astro observations

[propertyofwhitney67]

For the prompt event: Can you bless us with Bunny Whitney + Domestic stuff (Baking/Cooking)?

We gotta bring the bnuuy back

Carrot cake

Bunny!Whitney x Gn!Reader

Prompt Event: Domestic Stuff

Words: 578

Tw: none

Note: Oh how I've missed bunny Whitney. Things got crazy irl when I was trying to write this, sorry it took so long.

I’d like to think the smell of grated carrots lured him into the kitchen, “What are you making?” Whitney asked, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking over my shoulder.

“A cake.” I answered, cracking the eggs and adding them to the bowl of wet ingredients.

He hummed, nose twitching at the smell of carrots. “What kind of cake?”

“Carrot…” I mumbled under my breath, knowing he wouldn’t be happy with my answer. He can be quite sensitive sometimes.

He loudly thumbed his foot, “Say that again, I didn’t hear you.” Yeah, he isn’t happy. I could sense his anger growing.

I held back a laugh, “Carrot cake…” I said, this time louder. He thumped his foot again, tightening his grip around my waist. 

He glared, ears twitching. “Is that supposed to be funny?” He grumbled angrily while I whisked the wet ingredients.

I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, still as sensitive as ever. “It’s a cake, Whitney.” 

This only seemed to anger him further, “I know it’s a cake.”

“So you don’t want any?” I asked, adding the wet ingredients to the dry ones.  He huffed loudly and let go of my waist, eyeing the carrots before leaving. “Oh come onnnn!” I called after him, playfully pouting. “It’ll be good!”

He waved me off and went to the living room. I could hear him turn on the tv and put on some show he liked. I chuckled to myself and got out the cake pans, he can be such a child sometimes. It didn’t take long to grease the pans, add the batter, and put them into the oven. Now all I had to do was wait and hope the smell lures him back, which it probably will.

It didn’t take long for him to wander back into the kitchen while I was getting out the icing for the cake, “What are you doing?” He asked nonchalantly, nose twitching at the smell of cake.

Before I could answer him the time went off, letting me know it was time to take the cake out. I quickly turned off the timer and opened the oven, pulling the cakes out. I put them on the stovetop, checking that they were fully cooked. “Perfect.” I mumbled happily to myself, finding that they had cooked perfectly through. 

I turned my back, leaving them to cool and get the icing ready. That was all it took for Whitney to sneak past me and start eating the cake, “Whitney?” 

The only answer I got was a mumbled, “Hmm?” I looked to see him stuffing his face full of cake with his back to me.

I decided to mess with him a little, “So you don’t want any cake?” He only grunted this time, “Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re loving it.”

His head shot up, looking at me and wiping his mouth of crumbs. “No…I was just…” He desperately tried to think of some excuse, his ears twitching and his foot lightly thumping.

“Just eating the cake?” I asked, smirking. He huffed loudly, knowing he’d been caught and couldn’t come up with an adequate excuse. I tried to shoo him out of the kitchen, “You can have more when it’s cooled and iced.”  

He grumbled but stuck around, watching me work. “When will it be done?”

“Be patient.” I scolded him, despite knowing he’s never been patient a day in his life. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Better be…”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

#bunny whitney #dol #dol whitney #whitney dol #dol fanfic #dol fanfiction #dol x reader #degrees of lewdity whitney #dol whitney x reader #whitney degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #whitney the bully x reader #whitney x reader #whitney x reader fanfic #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity x reader #degrees of lewdity imagines #degrees of lewdity imagine #degrees of lewdity fanfic #degrees of lewdity fanfiction

[weshallc]

(Original post @ilovemushystuff )

What do you mean it’s 1968 and we don’t have Deliveroo?

#call the midwife #bless them they will have a long time to wait #Heidi killed off the takeaway last series

[ayoyoungg]

SCREAMING!! AND CRYING!!

ATBO covered B.A.P’s Warrior!! And it’s really good (as expected)!!

#y’all I’m being so literal #my friend is at the twice concert rn so I can’t scream to her #I don’t recall if trcng covered warrior (probably) but they were in the same company #so this is basically the first cover (at least in a REALLY long time) of warrior #and like ahhhhhhh #like we BEEN KNEW that boy groups train w/ BAP songs #so where have our covers been?! #I have been WAITING for ateez or stray kids #thank you so much atbo #and they did a stellar job #I need to go finish the actual performance because I was freaking out the whole time #y’all I am so happy #like sometimes I need reminders that bap really are/were THAT group #because folks don’t be talking about them #this whole revival stuff lately is seriously amazing #peak time truly was a blessing #wow wow wow #admittedly atbo wasn’t a group I paid much attention to during peak time but now I’m wondering if any members had interactions w/ jongup #there was this one fanboy from a lesser known group but I wanna say he was in blk not atbo #ima double check #anyways screaming crying quaking in my boots #bap #atbo #me #jt #just thoughts #sorry idk how to post YouTube videos here #so I’m kindly & patiently waiting for someone to post the vid here

[strwbrymlkshake]

finished my normalcy phase returning to the horrors

#mine #HELLO HELLO whats up yanchamps i am insane again once more god bless. feeling like a yandere prophet returning to his followers #i havent been experiencing The Horrors quite as much still been having ups and downs but normal otherwise #but my brain has been tormenting me a lil bit so i figured i might as well post about it #so i got confessed to recently and my brain exploded out of my head onto the wall and it was like ketchup and everything #brain is unable to process it bc it was from a guy i am not 100% yandere insane over (yet?? maybe?) and its probably not the best decision #since i am not mentally stable or sure about it and other factors. but we are still friends he is very swag and cool i think and enables me #and my yanderism which i post ever so slight morsels of from time to time on main #i mean like it is what i asked for technically? to be loved? cherished even!?!? to be cared for?!?? #yet i still am fixated on a guy who treats me like a crumb. sad. literally that one meme #i cannot control which man my brain dissects daily why does it have to be the one who doesnt care about me bruh istg. i mean its not rly #romantic i am just more fixated on him than others? theres way more to it but only so much can be explained in tags. and both these guys #are too old for me anyways. hell on earth. well thats an excuse for me to try and improve more i guess before i rush into anything. #it really sucks that ive waited so long for a serious relationship and everyone who wants one is too old anyways. and those who DONT want #one. well i dont want them they are not committed to the yandere grindset #im getting way better at not being super sick in the head or making rash decisions but those were just some things annoying me<3

[remcadll]

#IM FREEEE #IM FINALLY DONE FOR THE YEAR #MY GOD i can finally get more than 7 hours of sleep #I have so many comics sketched out that Ive been waiting to draw and like half of them are spinaraki and now I finally have time #to work on them bless the lord #also #my bad 💀💀 #Im so sorry it's been so long since the ask thing and now i feel bad so I'll do like two or three

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

[augustinewrites]

“itadori, please respect his personal space—”

“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”

“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”

peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.

you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.

a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.

[satoru]: send nudes?

you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.

peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.

he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.

but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.

when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.

luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.

he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.

[satoru]: haha jk

[satoru]: unless…?

huffing, you quickly type back a response.

[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.

[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)

“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”

“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”

yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!

megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.

sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.

thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.

he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.

your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.

[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?

[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…

[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you

oh, that’s actually kind of—

[satoru]: nude, preferably

maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.

[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.

there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.

[satoru]: shit

[satoru]: is this a scene?

you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.

[you]: i hate you

he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.

you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.

once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—

you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.

he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.

you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.

“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”

“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”

“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”

“a nap does sound kind of nice…”

he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.

“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”

it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.

so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.

because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

[certifiablyinsanez]

I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.

Edwin Payne is THE character.

#i am unwell #i am unstable #i am so sorry this was so long #but I’m not actually sorry #because you all need to know about Edwin Payne of the dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #niko sasaki

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki “asking” you to move in with him

You were almost back home when you got a call from your boyfriend. He didn’t even greet you when you answered.

“Where are you?”, he grunted into his phone.

“Well hello to you too handsome.”

“Yea, yea… where are you? I’m at your place to pick you up and ya ain’t here.”

“Heh… maybe if I knew you were coming over I would’ve been home. Why didn’t you text me and let me know. I don’t have any clothes packed or anything.”you informed him.

He does this all the time. Just comes over to your house and tells you that you’re coming back to his place with him. So very demanding.

“You have a dresser full of clothes in my room, your toothbrush and all your toiletries… what do ya need to pack?”

“Ya got me there. I’m almost there. I got stuff to drop off then we can leave.”

When you get through the door Katsuki is digging through your fridge.

“Why do you never have groceries in your house?” He questions you.

“Because I’m never here sir. They always go bad because I have a needy boyfriend that wants me at his house 25/8.”, the sarcasm drips out of your voice as you head to drop off the things you had bought.

“ Tch…. Needy. Please. You’re the one always complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.” He states.

“This is true.” You shrug your shoulders. “Anyways I’m ready. Let’s hit it.

“It’d be easier to spend time together if you just moved in with me” he mentions all causally as you guys head out to his car. You pause a little and look at him a little baffled.

You and Katsuki had been dating for about 8 months but you didn’t know he felt that seriously. Maybe he was just joking, so you shake it off and continue on like he didn’t say it.

The next thing you know you’re at his house getting ready for bed.

Kats comes to the bathroom and leans against the counter while you’re in the middle of doing your skincare.

“Do you wanna say something?” You ask because he’s just sitting there staring at you.

“Do you not wanna live with me cuz you could’ve just said that when I mentioned it earlier instead of fucking ignoring me.” He asked it harshly but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. Like he didn’t want to bring it up but it was bugging him bad enough that he had to say something.

“I- uh…”

Apparently you were taking too long.

“Just forget it.” His eyes fell from yours and he started moving away towards his room. “Are we watching the next episode of that stupid show of yours? If not-“

“I didn’t think you were serious Kat.” And you reach your hand out to catch his arm before he can leave.

“I thought you were joking or something. Also it wasn’t a question so I didn’t know you were waiting on an answer babe.” There’s a small grin pulling at your lips when he looks at you again.

“Why the hell would I joke about that? And it was obviously a question…. So answer it dammit.”, his brows were furrowed and he was scowling a little.

Poor nervous boy.

You reach both of your arms up and wrap them around his neck. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his pouting lips.

“Katsuki Bakugo *kiss* I would absolutely *kiss* love *kiss* to move in with you *kiss*”

His arms have wrapped around you waist pulling you tighter to him.

“About damn time. I’ll have people come over to pack your shit tomorrow.” And this time he leans in to give his a deep kiss. His tongue reaching out to invade your mouth.

When he pulls back you’re all twinkle eyed and dopey in love. It takes a second for reality to catch up to you.

“Tomorrow?? Kats I have a lease and I don’t want movers breaking and throwing my things around. I’m gonna need at least a week or two. And I’m gonna have to pay-“

“I’ll pay for the lease break and you have til this weekend. If ya don’t want movers I’ll get our shitty friends to come over and help. Ain’t waiting no two weeks.”

“This weekend? It’s Wednesday. That only gives me 2 days!” You reason.

“Yea and I don’t wanna give you that so count your blessings princess. And I’m done arguing about this.” He sweeps you up bridal style and carries you to bed. Then He dumps you down onto it.

“Now how about we start christening your new place,” he says while hovering over you with a sexy smirk playing at his lips.

Hmmmm….. and just like that you forgot why it was you weren’t moving in tomorrow. He could be so very convincing when he wanted to be.

Katsuki Masterlist

#tootietalks #imagine #bakugou x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #bakugou katsuki x reader #drabble #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo headcanons #fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugo #bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo katuski

[fangisms]

hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific

darling socialite

A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words

Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)

Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.

Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.

"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"

Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"

"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."

"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"

"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"

"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.

"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"

Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.

If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.

You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.

It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."

"What are you talking about, P?" you say.

"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"

"Thanks, Pansy," you say.

"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"

You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.

…

There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.

"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.

"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"

"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"

"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."

Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.

And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.

"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.

"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.

"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"

Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.

"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."

You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.

"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."

It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.

"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"

He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.

“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.

“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.

“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”

He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.

“Like that?” he says.

“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”

He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”

“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”

masterlist

#theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #x fem!reader #theo nott x fem!reader #friends to lovers