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doomedmoth · 9 days

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Three’s a crowd

Pairing : Poly and bisexual fem!reader | reader x alexandra saint mleux x charles lerclerc

Warnings : use of y/n, polyamory, fluff, very light angst, request, not much more tbh

Synopsis : Request : Could you write a poly fic about Charles, Alexandra and Y/N ? Everyone is celebrating Charles’ brand LEC but since Charles and Alex are the public couple (for Ferrari PR etc), Y/N can’t do anything. She’s starting to feel left out because of it since they’re going out and celebrating without her, they keep leaving her out and forgetting important dates (her birthday or smthg). Happy ending please !

Moth’s prophecy💡: Thank you to the anonymous cryptid for the request, I tweaked it a bit but still kept the main plot, and I hope you and the other poly enjoyers will like it ! Thanks again for the support and great ideas !

“Okay one… two… three… and posted !” You threw yourself in Charles’ arms as he clicked on the button and threw his phone away immediately, catching both you and Alex in a cuddle.

“You did it !” Alexandra pinched at his cheeks and you ruffled his hair, hands trembling with excitement.

Finally his ice-cream brand, Lec, was out, the main announcement posted on Instagram. The end of countless sleepless nights and never ending zoom calls, meetings at the worst time possible, and secrets to keep. Of course, now the promotion would be another handful, but at least the three of you would deal with it together. And you had always been pretty good at supporting your lovers.

You got into a more comfortable position on Charles’ lap, head resting against his, as Alexandra had gotten up and started her, as she called it, “happy dance”, which consisted mostly in jumping in circles screaming until she got dizzy. As you snorted, Alexandra very clearly loosing balance, Charles took your hand in his, softly rubbing it with his fingers.

“Thank you… I know it hasn’t been easy to deal with this on top of the races and everything… You’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” You could not help a smirk from coming up your lips, and thought this was the time to charge again.

“I know how you can repay me…” You straddled him, and as he did his best to appear confident and in charge, his blush betrayed his shyness. Alex had stopped spinning, seemingly much more interested in what was taking place on the couch. “Maybe you could…” You got closer to him, and peppered his neck with kisses until you got to his ear, in which you whispered as seductively as you could. “Maybe you could get me a dog ?”

He immediately rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you away as you laughed at his bright red cheeks. You had dreamt of having your own dog for so long, specifically a longhaired dachshund, and both Alex and Charles had said no multiple times. Charles’ arguments were mainly that he was away too often to properly care for it, and your girlfriend, who called the breed “hairy sausages”, argued she would have to deal with all the responsibilities of it because both yours and Charles’ works took a lot of time. And though she actually found dogs very cute, she did not have an interest big enough for them to manage her schedule around one.

You had pleaded to Lewis to use Roscoe to convince them, managed to go partly remote with your job, and flooded their messages with videos of dogs almost daily. At this point, you were seriously considering getting one in secret just to see how long it would take for them to realize, and then argue it is too late to give it back.

“Sure.” What ? You sat straight up on Charles as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t have heard well. You turned to Alex, who shrugged.

“I can’t deal with seeing you cry over reels anymore, and Mimi’s pretty cute.” She gave you a warm smile. Mimi was your friend’s dog, the one who got you into dachshund in the first place.

“You’re not serious, are you ? You’re just in a good mood. You’re joking.” Charles actually laughed, and you thought your heart wouldn’t be able to handle a prank.

“Promis juré ma princesse. Why not, you want one, you can take care of it, who am I to deny you ? Let’s get you a dog.”

No matter how well isolated was your apartment, you thought you would be lucky if no neighbors came to complain tomorrow. There was a lot to celebrate for one night.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really need you to give Leo back, we’re going to take pictures…” Searching desperately for support in Alex’s eyes, you felt sick when you saw her staring at the ground. You were so shaken you let the event coordinator take the puppy from your arms and give him to Alexandra, who sheepishly turned her back to you and walked towards the press wall.

Charles himself was nowhere and everywhere at once, it was no use trying to get him to advocate for you. Too stressed by the beginning of the racing season combined with the launching events for Lec, he had mindlessly agreed to most of his agent’s suggestions, including playing what the Ferrari PR team had called “happy family”. Following the announcement of Carlos’ replacement, they needed good news to balance, and thought emphasizing Charles’ couple and furry kid would pull at a few heartstrings. But in their good Italian traditional beliefs, there was no place for a third, and since you had always been more busy, and therefore more discreet, than Alexandra, the cut had been made. They were to be the hit couple for a while, in a vain but admittedly successful attempt at calming the fans.

You had had little to no say, Charles having always been your voice in those kinds of businesses, and Alexandra being media trained to perfection. You thought back on your promises, on your dedication to be supportive of them, and decided the best thing to do would be to go get some air. It wasn’t as if you would be missed anyway.

As you stepped on one of the secluded balconies, the cold breeze of the night came to slap your face, and without anyone’s arms or jacket to comfort you, you suddenly felt very lonely. The evening had dragged on enough, you just wanted to go home. Debating between taking a cab or waiting for your lovers, you took out your phone, only to be flooded by notifications from your socials. You barely used them, so had no idea why they would be so active all of a sudden.

Both Instagram and Twitter greeted you with the same pictures taken either by fans or paparazzis. You shopping with Carlos’s girlfriend, Leo trotting happily by your side, as well as another few at a restaurant with friends, where Leo was sleeping on your lap while Charles and Alex were somewhere in the background, probably discussing going dancing after. The usual. But this time, all the comments seemed to agree on one thing. The dog wasn’t yours.

“Did they lend her the dog for the day ?”. “Leo’s godmother.” “Is she gonna be the babysitter while they’re gone ?” “Me when my friends get a baby”.

You three had always been private, but not secret. People made their own opinions anyway, and you did not care much about polishing a public persona. You did not use socials, Alex had private accounts, and Charles’ were managed by his PR team. In the end, even though you had dated Alexandra since high school, and Charles for a bit more than a year, the lack of official pictures or announcement, coupled with Ferrari’s new strategy, only served as validation to those who affirmed the real couple were Alexandra and Charles.

You felt sick, cold, and particularly lonely. Cab it would be.

“Babe what are you doing outside like that, you’ll get a cold !” You felt his jacket fall on your shoulders before you even heard him walk up to you. Ears buzzing, eyes watering, you weren’t sure you were able to face him.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend and your dog if you don’t mind.” When you turned to him, you saw right behind one of the girls in charge of the party holding Leo, and your blood started boiling again. Charles was looking at you all confused, and you felt an itch to slap him.

“What ? What are you on about ? How ‘bout you come back inside, I think Leo misses you.” He chuckled, and you thought a full punch would probably be better than a slap.

“I don’t think your dog misses me.” The words felt like poison in your mouth, but you wanted him to get it. To understand how ridiculous this situation was getting. And why wouldn’t the girl put him down, he was clearly uncomfortable in her arms ? Why was no one taking it seriously ?

“Leo’s your dog, Y/N, I don’t get it…”

“Then give him back to me !” You screamed and the puppy yapped back, before jumping from the assistant’s arms, who shrieked and struggled to get him back. Too late, he had found your arms before she managed to pull the leash. “You should probably talk with your team, Charles.” He frowned at the use of his name, which almost always meant you were pissed. “Goodnight.”

As they finished filling their suitcases, you thought back on this evening, and that you probably should have shut your mouth. Following Lec’s launching party, what you hoped would be a wake up call for your lovers turned into something even worse. Charles was indeed called in for a talk with the PR team. And then Alex too. Your turn never came, and the more the days passed, the more it appeared your relationship was being taken over by management and marketing teams.

The following weeks had been a blur of unspoken tensions and meaningless routines. Breakfast alone, walking Leo only in the areas pre-approved to avoid pictures, going to work without him and coming home to new communication materials published with his face on it, work calls for your boyfriend stretching into the night, and your girlfriend going out so often it seemed her side of the bed was getting colder with each passing day. They both seemed to have undergone a sad transformation, their fiery and protective spirits dampened by forced compromises. Something told you they had been pushed to agree to the new directive, and yet you couldn’t help but stay mad at them. You understood Charles. The pressure he was under, the expectations of the whole team, the weight of his responsibilities. But Alexandra, you had known for too long. She had never been one to bow down and blindly agree to unfair decisions. She had loved you, through good and bad. She had promised you, together forever. And now she kept her hands by her side on the street and you wondered when her clothes had stopped smelling like you.

They kissed you goodbye, promised you mountains of gifts and a magnificent restaurant when they returned, but the door had not even closed when you fell crying to your knees. You had moved to the couch and slept there, your puppy watching over you, when your mother knocked on the door the following morning.

“Happy birthday darling !” She opened her arms and you ran in them, grabbing at your siblings behind her to get them in the hug too.

You had hoped to be out of tears by now, having spent the night reading articles speculating on why you were living with Formula 1 hottest couple -were you a distant relative ? A friend of Alex in need of a place to crash ?-, but the warm embrace of family members you hadn’t seen for months was enough to bring you back to the edge.

“Where are my favorite in-laws ?” She was beaming as she settled her belongings on the kitchen counter. “Oh that’s my baby grandson, come here baby !” She took Leo in her arms and you thought you had more time to breathe, but your younger brother tugged at your sleeve.

“Can Charlie take me on the boat ? I learned how to do a backflip at school and he can film me do it from the boat and then the others are gonna be so jealous and” You put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair softly.

“I’m sorry… Charles isn’t there. Alex too.” Your mother furrowed her brows and gave you a puzzled look. “Race weekend, and they were expected at an event they couldn’t cancel.” Your voice, barely above a whisper, was already shaking. You felt your tears ready to spill over, and gritted your teeth. “Last minute decision.”

Your brother only groaned and ran to the balcony to look at the port, already over it, but your mother came to hold your hand, and you exchanged a look of “we’ll talk about it later”.

Unfortunately, by the time you all came back from your evening out, and the kids were in bed, your mother was faced with the situation without leaving you any time to explain.

“Y/N, dear, come here please…” You sat next to her with two glasses of wine, and looked over her shoulder to her phone, where she had some celebrities gossip website open. “Is that the event they couldn’t cancel for your birthday ?” Her tone was cold, and you took at better look at the pictures.

A sunset movie-worthy, one of those that always brought tears to your eyes. A small table with candles and flowers on the beach, cocktails so colorful you could almost taste them from afar. Holding hands, looking at each other like the world had stopped, your lovers were apparently having the time of their life in a romantic restaurant, on your birthday evening. You took out your own phone. No messages.

The panic attack struck you without warning. Your heart had clenched all at once, and despite your mother’s attempt at laying you on your back, your muscles kept you rolled in a ball. You felt as if every breath was tearing apart your lungs, and could feel your heartbeat from your ears to the tip of your fingers. You could vaguely hear her talking to you, but it was as if a wall was standing between you, yet her touch felt very close, too close, as if her usually soft fingers were now burning your arms. Was it the end ? Was it how your great love story ended, alone on a Saturday night, crying so much you were drooling on the couch ? Your body was aching like never before, were you about to pass out ? To simply die ?

In the end you only managed to fall asleep after your mom calmed you down. You thought before closing your eyes that even your pain was disappointing.

You were helping your siblings pack up their bags when they came home, arms filled with packages. The little ones jumped to them, glad to have at least been able to say hello before leaving, but your mother stayed by your side, not even greeting them. She thanked them coldly for the gifts, and pushing the children towards the door, gave you a sympathetic look. She said she would always be there for you. She said you could come home if needed. But when Leo jumped on the couch and laid next to you, you knew no matter how painful it was, your home was here and there. You just needed time. You would figure it out, together. But not tonight. Tonight you just wanted out.

“Happy belated birthday, princesse.” Charles said tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he gestured to the mountain of gifts piled on the table. Alex sat by your side, but you got up before she could hold your hand.

“I don’t want your gifts. I want an apology. Think well about what you’ve done.” You kissed your puppy’s head and left the apartment immediately.

Almost running in the hallways and stairs, you got to his door panting. You knew he was back, they always made the journey together. So when he opened the door, clearly exhausted and surprised to see you, you broke down once again.

“I’m sorry Max… can I come in ?” He immediately closed the door behind you and called for his girlfriend, while his step daughter Penelope came to hug your legs. You collapsed on their sofa, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to find the words to explain the depth of your pain. Kelly and Penelope tried to soothe you with soft voices and hugs, but Max only managed to pace the room, his jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell happened ?” He had always been so sweet to you, so welcoming in this unfamiliar world. You felt bad for seeking comfort in his home after he had just came back. But the gates were opened, and while you cried, you still managed to make out a few words, enough for the couple to piece out the situation.

Penelope stayed close to you, hugging you with all the warmth a child could muster, while Kelly had been forced to stand in front of the door to prevent your friend from committing murder. They were now arguing silently, and you felt your eyes get heavier by the minute, strangely lulled to sleep by their hushed whispers. You had finally put words on what was happening, and the little girl’s cuddles had managed to calm you down to the point of dozing off.

“I think you should take her home.” Kelly murmured, still worried.

Max nodded in agreement, and he carefully scooped you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your apartment. Charles was standing in the doorway, Alex pacing behind him, and both let him pass, faces etched with concern.

“You two stay right there.” Max’s voice was sharp, commanding not to argue. He laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you and stroking your hair until sleep finally claimed you. When he tried to leave the apartment, your two lovers were still standing by the door, begging to be heard.

“Max, please, what’s going on…” Alexandra tried to get close but he immediately took a step back, and pointed his finger at her.

“You had your chance to make things right by staying this weekend. You blew it up. Take your responsibilities.” He then turned to Charles, and almost spat to his face. “And you… I thought family was supposed to always come first. Maybe I was wrong.” His face was distorted with anger, and his knuckles white on the door handle. “You two have to man up for once in your fucking life. Either you tell Ferrari, and everyone who’s putting their noise in your business, to fuck off, or you loose her.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Charles and Alexandra with the consequences of their actions. They knew they had been fooled. Manipulated. Two nights ago, when the pictures of them had been taken, they were having one of the worst conversation possible. One they wanted to share with you as soon as possible, and in person, and not on your birthday. They were now wondering how they could do so without sounding like liars.

Would you trust them ? Believe Charles, when he would tell you the PR team had said you weren’t cut for fame, that the spotlights were obviously making you stressed, that you would be happier away from it all ? Believe Alex, when she would admit that they had threatened her with your boyfriend’s career, as well as your own, reminding her that she had never needed to work, and that if she loved the both of you, she should let professionals handle the situation ? Believe them, when they would say that’s what they talked about at the restaurant, and that their look of love was captured when they thought of you home, and wished you were with them ?

They weren’t sure. The thought that you could decide to end it all, and you would be smart to do so, frightened them. When they finally went to bed, hands shaking and eyes wet, each one cuddling by your side, hoping this night would not be the last, you did not even wake up.

“Still not forgiven ?” Max pushed Charles’ shoulder softly, half teasing him, half genuinely concerned for his friend, even though he hated to admit it. He had moved away from the group of men having a drink in the shared garden of their building, and had been staring at the moon for too long for someone in a good mood.

“I don’t know… She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clearly not. Even when we told her of our meetings, she was like… she agreed with them ?” Charles turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. “Said they knew what they were talking about, that it was for the best. Keeps walking behind us in the street, encourages us to go out just us two, even refuses to hold Leo when there are fans ! Her own dog, Max !” Charles felt the arm of the taller man lay on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the embrace, sighing.

As he was about to turn for a full hug, he heard Carlos whistle from the table, and Daniel signed at them to get back and away from the hedges.

“Paps.” The Aussie simply said when they got back, pointing a finger at the light of a camera through the bushes. “What a waste of money living here if they still manage to get in.” Max groaned and started to pick up the bottles, inciting everyone to go back inside.

“What a pain those fuckers…” He grumbled, clearly annoyed to not be able to enjoy his evening out with friends without the sound of camera shutters ruining everything. “What fucking interest is there to our lives, go get one of your own or something for god’s sake…” Everyone agreed but still followed him to one of the shared inside spaces, frustration hanging heavy in the air.

As they settled around the pool table, anecdotes about obsessive fans and annoying paparazzis were shared, but Charles’ mind was drifting elsewhere. An idea had begun to take root, a small glimmer of hope for his relationship, to maybe get back his girlfriend, before sadness had taken over most of her. He chugged down the rest of his drink, and called for the attention of his friends.

“What if… what if we used the paps ? What if I said fuck you to Ferrari without dealing with the legal issues ?” A spark appeared in their eyes, and in their last sober decision, they called Alexandra to come down, all agreeing she would be their voice of reason.

Oblivious to it all, you were reading in bed when the gathering happened, and would never know of it.

Only a few days later was the plan put into action. Charles’ idea of using actual paparazzis was turned down by Alex, who reminded the boys of the consequences on their careers if anyone found out who made the call. Despite his drunken arguments of being ready to fuck it all for his girls, soundly supported by his friends, she had found a much safer solution.

When you stepped on the huge balcony, you felt tears come to your eyes, happy ones, for the first time in weeks. Your lovers had crafted a perfect romantic dinner for you, straight out of a movie. The table was laid out for three, candles lit up and rose petals everywhere on the ground. A bottle of expensive champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice, waiting to be popped podium-style, and Leo was waiting by the door with a little bow tie on his collar. You had missed being just the three of you, no waitress, no management, no friends, just a homemade dinner and loving looks.

So when they took you in their arms, wrapping you in love and affection, peppering your skin with kisses and sweet compliments, you simply gave in without a care for anything else. You hugged and kissed until you had no breath left, and let them treat you, for you had deserved it.

Yet the whole time, unbeknownst to you, Daniel and Max had been stationed right under your balcony, hidden from view as they snapped pictures of the intimate scene unfolding. They did their best to capture every shared glance and affectionate touch, every kiss and hug that would make it impossible to deny the love shared between you. They had all warned paparazzis were roaming in the area the night before, which would make the whole thing even more believable for the PR teams. The secret mission was going to perfection, and when you retreated indoors with a seductive wink to your partners, Charles and Alexandra gave a subtle thumbs up to the boys to signal the end of the work for tonight.

As you awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight through the curtains you had not closed well last night, a sense of peace came over you for the first time in a while. Yesterday’s romantic dinner, and night, was still fresh in your mind and body, and you smiled when greeted with your lovers’ sleeping faces when you turned in the bed. Reaching as quietly as possible for your phone, your soft morning suddenly turned to hell as you saw hundreds of notifications and missed calls appear on the lock screen.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrolled them all. Missed calls from Ferrari. Messages from long lost friends. And obviously, dozens and dozens of pictures plastered across every gossip account related to Formula 1. It seemed an anonymous account had taken and posted pictures of your very private dinner during the night, and then disappeared, right after the pictures had been reposted everywhere.

With trembling hands, you turned to look at Charles and Alexandra, still sleeping peacefully by your side. Instead of finding solace in their presence, a wave of dread washed over you, the fear of losing everything you held dear threatening to consume you whole. Would this be the breaking point for them ? Would Ferrari ask you to move out ? Would they all lie, deny completely your existence ?

The sound of Leo’s plaintive cries echoed through the room, snapping your partners from their slumber. They came even closer to you, filled with concern as your breathing got more and more erratic, tears streaming down your face. They took turns kissing away your tears and whispering words of comfort until you managed to give them your phone, as well as theirs. You tried regulating your breathing as they scrolled, and sat down, expecting a tough conversation straight after.

Alex simply threw her phone away after not even two minutes of screen time, coming back to lay her head on your chest and faking purring. Charles sighed, and opened the camera of his phone. Had they asked him to make an apology video ? He turned the camera to Leo, and added his hand to where Alex’s fingers were already intertwined with yours. Snapping a pic of the small dog with your three hands next to him, he immediately posted it on his story on Instagram, which he had apparently gotten back the login details for, with the caption “Family 4️⃣❤️”.

“About time it was out officially, right love ?” Charles stroked your cheek lovingly while your girlfriend hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer to you. “I was thinking your red dress for the event next week, and we could get me a new suit but” He kept rambling on, his phone buzzing non stop on his side table, head in the crook of your neck. Too stunned to speak, you simply laid back in the bed and let him talk your ear off. It wasn’t over then ?

By the time of the next Lec event, you were sure it was far from over. Alex was holding your hand, and you had gotten matching nails the day before. Charles had insisted you were the only one to wear red tonight, and he kept you as close as physically possible, one hand always on your waist. The little pup struggled to find his place in all this affection, but you made sure to keep him in your arms whenever he needed comfort, and otherwise refused to give the leash to anyone else. When Charles’ agent came to warn you there would be trouble, Alex stepped in front of you with the look of defiance you had always loved, and simply told him “With all due respect, fuck off.” Charles shrugged, saying this wasn’t a Ferrari event anyway, and smiled as he took you two away.

You finally stood tall and proud, at peace and at home. The party was quite private, you were mostly surrounded by friends and well-wishers, and one in particular came to greet you with the biggest smile on his face.

“As pretty as ever querida !” Carlos took you in his arms, and gave a small pet to Leo’s head. He congratulated you, and gesturing to the PR team seemingly having a breakdown in the corner of a room, he chuckled. “The only thing I won’t miss at Ferrari is their shitty strategy.” He winked at you before going back to the buffet, not without a last word “It’s clear the only happy family they should advertise is you three, with how they’re looking at you.”

You turned back to meet their eyes. Charles raised his glass to you, and Alex’s smile was brighter than the neon lights. You felt filled with pride, love, a sense of validation like no other. You thought of your mother, of her warm embrace and comforting words. You hoped she would see the pictures of tonight. You hoped she knew you had a home away from home in them. And so you ran to them, and laughed until your cheeks hurt, and danced until the lights went out, and promised to love until the very last star in the sky burnt out.

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eternally-racing · 5 months

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not private, not secret | oscar piastri

wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

genre: fluff

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: you and oscar have kept your relationship secret for this long, but oscar can't help but celebrate with you for his very first formula 1 win.

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You were well accustomed to being a shadow in the McLaren garage. It’s the way you and Oscar had decided you liked it best.

There was no pressure from the media, no mean comments on social media, and the less prying eyes into your relationship, the better. Only a select few people on the team knew that you were Oscar’s girlfriend, the rest easily bought up the lie that you were the daughter of a very rich investor in the team who wanted to be at every race. It usually wasn’t that hard to keep quiet, but today was a big day and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest at every turn. For the first time in his Formula 1 career your boyfriend was leading the race, and with only a few more laps to go you were praying that today would be the day that his dream came true. As you looked to the pit wall you could see Andrea’s foot nervously twitching against the foot rest of his chair, he felt it too. This would easily be the biggest moment of Oscar’s career if it comes true, and there are only a few more laps to go.

It’s a moment you never want to forget as the checkered flag comes out for Oscar’s car. You can’t stop the tears leaking out from your eyes as you hear the jubilation on his voice through the radio. This is a moment that both of you imagined for so long, but the reality of the situation surpassed all of your expectations. It’s a full celebration with the team as everyone is thoroughly overjoyed. You’re swept up with thinking about Oscar that you don’t even notice the other papaya car cross the line after Oscar. It’s a 1-2 finish, there’s not much more a team could ever wish for in a race. McLaren hasn’t felt joy like this in years. There’s a full sea of papaya out in front of the podium to greet the race winner, and you’re not sure where you fit into things - you blend in easily with the crowd while simultaneously being swept up in it. You’ve made a couple of friends in the garage and stick closely to them as the party already seems to be beginning on the paddock.

You’ve never seen Oscar like this before - he takes a minute in the car before getting out (you can only assume he was wiping his tears of joy, even if he is too stubborn to admit it). You have your phone out taking a couple of pictures yourself - you know that there’s 1000s of cameras around that are also pointed at your boyfriend, but you want to remember what it feels like to see this moment through your eyes.

After hugging his engineer and the rest of the team members, you can see Oscar’s gaze start to wander around the paddock, and it’s only once he changes directions do you figure out that he’s looking for you. There’s cameras flashing and the live TV feed clearly following over his shoulder, but your eyes are only locked on each other as Oscar reaches out for you. He stays in your arms for long enough that people can probably get the hint that you’re someone special.

“I really couldn’t have done this without you love, thank you” Oscar says with tears pooling in his eyes. This is his “I made it moment”, and he wants nothing more than to share it with you. There’s so many words that you want to say, but you find yourself speechless as you stare into Oscar’s eyes. Instead, you go with the action that you’ve dreamt of doing ever since you started dating. It’s your first helmet kiss of what will be many more to follow. Oscar warned you that it wouldn’t taste very good, especially given the dusty race conditions of the day, but it brings such joy to your heart to be able to celebrate with him.

When Oscar’s up on the podium he points to you as he lifts the trophy up to the cheers of the crowd, mouthing an “I love you” to you down below that you know will make the rounds on social media. But you don’t care one bit about that anymore. People could throw all the hate in the world your way, but there was nothing like the pride of celebrating your boyfriend’s first f1 win.

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author's note: was in a bit of a writing slump working on pt.2s for a lot of my other fics so i just wanted to write something short and sweet! hope u all enjoyed it :) My ask box is still open as always if you have any requests. Until next time! - Em <3

#oscar piastri #formula 1 fic #oscar paistri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #op81 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x yn #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fic #mclaren f1

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emphistic · 2 months

Note

hiii can i request a scenario like sometime before sukuna and reader got together like what pushed sukuna to ask reader out :)))

pls don’t be lonely, in time your anons will have emojis/names ^^

A/N: ugh i hate beta reading (im sorry if you find any typos or mistakes), and i hate how this turned out — definitely gonna rewrite another version for this request

"Alright, your total is coming up to $11.89 Would you like to pay with cash or card today?"

You cleared your throat, "Could you give me a second?"

"Of course!"

You turned away from the cashier to face Sukuna, who stood behind you, and probably playing some dumb video game on his phone. When he noticed your gaze on him, he looked up at you, raising a brow.

"We ordered two croissants, two drinks, and two cookies, right?"

Sukuna hummed

"So why is our total so low? We always get this as our order and it always costs more than $11.89."

Sukuna shrugged, "Why would I know?" Then, an idea came to Sukuna — his eyes lighting up. "How about . . . we don't say anything, that way we get to pay less. See? At least one of us has brain."

You frowned at that last part, "Says the one who literally tries to cheat off of me on every test we take. Anyways, that's not a good thing to do. If we did that, we would be making this business lose money. What if this store goes bankrupt because of us? I really like their croissants."

Sukuna was taken aback, were you really this nice of a person?

"No way. Are you stupid? This is the perfect way to save—"

You turned your back on Sukuna and faced the cashier, "I have a quick question."

"Yes?"

"We order this every time we come here and our total is always higher than just $11.89, is there any reason why it's lower today?"

Sukuna facepalmed after hearing you.

"Oh, right! I forgot to mention, we have a 35% discount for all couples today — in honor of Valentine's Day being right around the corner. You guys are together, right? As in you're dating?"

"We are—" Sukuna began, eager to get a discount, as he knew you were paying with his card — not that he minded spending money on you.

"We are not, actually," you finished his sentence.

Sukuna's chest tightened at your words. He didn't know why. You guys weren't actually dating, so why did he feel the need to say you were?

"Oh, my bad. I just assumed because you guys were ordering together. Sorry again," the cashier retyped whatever they had recently put in on their screen.

You laughed, "Don't worry about it."

"Grandpa, how do you know if a girl likes you?" Sukuna had called for a meeting in the dining room with Mr. Itadori — the grandpa in question. The pink-haired elder sat on his chair, with a cup of still smoking tea in his hands, taking occasional sips here and there.

Mr. Itadori laughed, a boisterous, and clearly very amused laugh. "You've had plenty of girlfriends, how do you not know?"

Sukuna winced at the deluge of memories, because the only reason he even had girlfriends before was to get you out of his head. You were the only one he ever thought of, ever dreamt of. You were the only one so unfortunate as to have him thinking of you night and day. Well, that's what Sukuna thought. You, on the other hand, had a different idea of him.

"I just," Sukuna scratched at his nap, "don't know."

"Well, boy. It can be a very easy thing to know. Or it can be a very hard thing to know. My best piece of advice is—"

Sukuna sat at the edge of his chair, impatiently waiting for his elder to advise him further.

"—you never know. You can never know."

Sukuna's mouth fell to his feet. "You've got to be kidding me — Grandpa, please. I need your help."

Mr. Itadori laughed, again, "You've asked me your question. I've answered your question. What more do you want?"

Sukuna grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to do . . . about you.

This time, Sukuna had planned to meet with your parents, in order to further investigate and see if you had even a speck of feeling for him (besides friendship, of course).

"We've seen you two kiss before, a multitude of times actually. Why would she not like you?"

Sukuna immediately reddened in the face, "She's only kissed me on the cheek. And, ah, I've done the umm . . . same to her. I haven't done anything bad to your daughter, I swear — on my life." He held his hands up in a defensive manner.

"Relax, Sukuna. You seriously think we haven't seen your guys' photos from the photo booth at the fair last week? Besides, you're the only boy she has movie nights. You're the only boy she would ever work with on a group project. You're the only boy she ever talks about. You're the only boy," your mom said.

Sukuna gulped. "So, can I ask her to be my—" He winced. "—girlfriend?"

Your parents both sighed, "Kids these days. Always asking questions they already know the answer to."

Sukuna's heart hammered in his chest; this was it. He finally got his answer, the answer he's been dreaming of. Now here comes the hard part: figuring out what to do next.

"Wait, hold on Zoe. Sukuna just texted me," you turned your camera off in order to view your messages.

"Ooooh, it's Loverboy. How romantic of him to be texting you at 8pm on a school night. Shouldn't he be getting his Z's in, considering he's like, what, 80 years old?"

You laughed, "He's only a year older than us, he just got held back."

"Uh huh." You heard the squeak of a chair from the other line as [you assumed] Zoe leaned back in her seat.

Kuna

Hey

Meet me @ the beach

I need your help rq

You

Wtf??

Why the hell r u at the beacj at eight?

Kuna

Just get over here already

You rolled your eyes at his bluntness. "Sorry, girl. He needs my help with — actually, I don't even know what he needs my help for. Anywho, I'll call you back after."

"Sureee you will. After he kills you or something. Y'know, from the moment you introduced him to me, I knew there was something off about his demeanor—"

"Okay, bye!" You hung up the call and quickly slipped a pair of sneakers on.

When you pulled up to the beach, you saw a figure sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. You recognized said figure are none other than Sukuna.

"So, what's up?" You approached Sukuna.

He looked up, somewhat surprised to see you arrive so fast.

"Um—" He looked around, searching for something, before standing up quickly.

"You gonna tell me what's going on? Are do you want me to figure it out myself?"

"I'd rather you not do the latter."

"Oh my God, just tell me," you spoke, with an exasperated expression on your face.

Sukuna sighed, before thrusting a bouquet of roses (he's not that basic, he just didn't know what flowers you liked best, and was too scared to ask) into your arms, saying, "Be my girlfriend."

"Sorry — be your what?" Your mouth fell open in utter disbelief.

"My girlfriend," he muttered, now turned away from you; you could see the tips of his ears reddening. "Are you deaf or something, kid?"

Even when he was flustered he worked hard to keep up a cold attitude.

You regained your posture, clearing your throat, "Does that line work work with all the ladies? Is that how you get all your girls? Oh, please. 'Be my girlfriend'? What the hell, Sukuna? Is that seriously the best you've got?"

"Ugh, forget it." Sukuna stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and began to walk away.

"Wait — I never said my answer was 'no'."

That made him turn around instantly.

"But I never said my answer was 'yes'," you teased, flashing a grin in Sukuna's direction.

"You're so annoying," he met you halfway.

"And you're such a silly goose," you booped him on the nose, earning a grunt in response. "Of course I'll be your girlfriend, 'Kuna," you stood up on your tippy toes and placed a chaste kiss on Sukuna's chapped lips.

As you pulled away, he brought you back in for another, more zealous kiss, this time. One of his arms wrapped around the curve of your waist while the other played with your hair; you placed your hands on his shoulders.

This was it.

Sukuna now knew what to do. Sukuna now knew what to say. Sukuna now knew what to think. Sukuna now knew what to feel. Sukuna now knew you.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

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honey-milk-depresso · 1 year

Text

“He wonders…” TWST boys dreaming about their crush (Heartslabyul)

Ace Trappola

Ace would never admit it to you that he actually fell for you. And hard. Most of the time he just tried to cover it up by teasing you a lot. In reality, Ace can’t help but constantly dream about you all the time. And he hates it.

The thought of your laughter and smile while he drones out makes him dazed and hypnotised while in the middle of class, before he’s snapped back to reality by the teacher sharply calling for his name with a stone cold glare to wake him up.

When he’s in his basketball match and you suddenly pop up in his head in a pretty outfit while asking him out on a date, his lips subconsciously pouting a little while his cheeks darkened in red shade by just a tad bit, eyes clearly not focus… and he gets hit straight in the face by the ball.

He went to the infirmary for that one, since Floyd threw it to his face a bit to hard and it gave him a nosebleed. Ace hates it that you came to the infirmary to see him, with a worried look and nagged at him things that ring out white noise to him as he starts to dream of you again while you’re here.

The effect you have on him is very clear to Ace, that you are bold enough to run rent-free in his head almost everyday and not spare him an ounce of mercy. You’re the one teasing him all the time. That’s so unfair, as if he’s in a game he has no chance of winning.

His cheeks slowly turn red again, and he looks away. “Excuse me? Are you even listening to me? I said be careful next time!” You grabbed his face by cupping his cheeks and turning him towards you. “I was seriously worried you broke your nose!”

His dreamy thoughts of you raced in his head once more. You’ll be the death of him until he could finally utter out his confession. <3

Deuce Spade

The moment he fell for you, his teenage hormones didn’t help him even try to repress it. Once he dreamed about you, he really dreamed about you.

From how he dreamt about you on a date with him on a motorbike, or the both of you having a picnic together, to dreaming of you in a white dress… n-no wait, t-that’s too early- w-wha- “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!” He shouted in the middle of the hallway while walking to class, suddenly embarrassed he yelled that while other students were around.

Every time he dreams of you, he makes it obvious that he is, unintentionally. Deuce would look dazed and almost vulnerable, cheeks flushed slightly pink, and most importantly, smiling stupidly to himself as his cheeks rest on his hands. Of course, Ace would take advantage of this to scare him while in this state, but even then would Ace start to get bored of it. Because he’s still not making a move.

He wants to tell you his little (very much an understatement) crush on you… but when you really face him he suddenly goes quiet and talks about everything but his confession. Not only that, he knows he dreams about you, and Deuce feels rather guilty for doing so and can’t overcome his shyness because of it.

As a result, Deuce came to his seniors for advice and all of them said the same thing: it’s better out of your system now than later. His dreams of you became more and more frequent, where he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. “Deuce?”

Deuce blinked, suddenly realising he was with you in PE Class and he’s just sitting down looking aimlessly. “Come on, silly. Don’t doze off in the middle of class,” you smiled. He blushed, he was dreaming of you again. It’s now or never for his dreams to become reality… <3

Trey Clover

It’s not easy knowing if he’s dreaming or not, and he rarely does anyways. He doesn’t even know how could ever dream something so sappy and romantic… until he does.

Trey would only realise he ever has a crush on you the moment he realises he spent 5 minutes thinking about you without realising he was. He dreamt about how you two would bake together, smear frosting and batter on each other, laughing together as he hugs you from behind…

…Ah. He definitely has a crush on you. As much as Trey want to deny it, the thoughts of you loving him in a way that most definitely wouldn’t be classed as “just friends” is something he can’t reject either. So he sort of just… accepts the fact he does indeed have a crush on you.

Trey ultimately treats you the same: your kind upperclassman you can always come asking for his help. It’s just that he makes himself more obvious that he wants the relationship to bloom into something more, and open up parts of him you that he doesn’t often show. He can be a mischievous little guy if you really ask for it~ ofc he is I hate him Argh *kisses him* >://

When his dreams of you frolicking in a field of daisies while smiling warmly at each other with loving eyes makes him really embarrass, and it’s something Cater definitely teases him about because it’s just so sappy, he still wonders. And he wonders if you dreamt of him in similar situations. Not in a creepy way but… he’s be really happy if you do, he hopes you do. Because that way, he knows that perhaps his feelings are being reciprocated.

When the time is right, when the both of you are alone in the kitchen, when you two are fooling around with oblivious joy, to not care about what anyone says about the two of you teasing each other with frosting and toppings… he would tell you… tell you tha-

“Trey? Are you gonna tell me the recipe on what we’re baking today?” You giggled, snapping him out of his thoughts. Huh… his own dream had come true. Now it’s only a matter of time, just when it’s right. “Oh! Of course. I have a little surprise for you afterwards, I hope it makes you happy.” <3

Cater Diamond

He shamelessly dreams of the both of you on dates, taking couple selfies together, and so much more. The only thing is that Cater doesn’t tell anyone that, although Trey pretty much has a hunch of who he’s thinking about when he sighs dreamily with a love stricken smile.

Cater dreams very fondly over each selfie you took with him, dreaming that one of those selfies would have you kissing his cheek, or the other way around whichever you prefer. Every flirt he sends your way back then was always platonic, and you knew. But now, it seems that he desperately hopes you do pick up that there’s something slightly different.

He dreams you picked up on his flirts and just kiss him on the spot, he dreams you fell in love the moment he fell for you too, he dreams that one day the both of you could live together… wait- JFKSKDJF OKAY WOW- HE WENT THAT FAR HUH-

Cater smiled sheepishly to himself, blushing furiously as the sudden realisation hits him that his feelings for you has grown beyond just a crush. Like a… super crush…crush. Yeah, that’s it. That’s gotta be trending.

Trey shakes his head as he listens to Cater ranting about how stupid he is for realising (and as if Trey would have DEFINITELY immediately know he had a crush on anyone I wish it was me-/hj )and tells him he should really try to tell you since you’re not really picking up on any signs he throws in. “It’s either you do or you don’t Cater,” Trey’s words would always ring in his head.

If only he could skip pass the whole confession anxiety and cut straight into the acceptance of being in a romantic relationship. If only he could… “It’s either you do or you don’t, Ca-”

“Cater?” “Gah!” The poor boy being startled by you, causing you to flinch. “I-is there something wrong?” “Wrong? Me?? Pshhh, nah, never!” “…you’re not a very good liar right now.” He sighs, suddenly feeling his cheeks burning hot. It’s either you do or you don’t…

“Well, maybe one thing’s on my mind…” <3

Riddle Rosehearts

He dreams about you the moment he fell for you, but the latter feels quite guilty about it. He knows what he’s thinking are romantic fantasies but why does he dream of such when he shouldn’t? When you two clearly establish that you two were only friends?

His dreams of you at a tea party where your hands covered his, or how the two of you play croquet alone with one another, or how the two of you kiss under the rose shelter… no. He shouldn’t… Riddle believes that his thoughts were unacceptable, especially when you two are friends. And you think you two were only friends, right? Then he can’t.

Unfortunately his dreams turned him to spending less time with you, so that he’d stop dreaming of you in such way. Of course, it didn’t work. He dreamt of you more frequently than before, and sometimes even nightmares of you leaving from him for good. He knew deep down he wanted you to stay, but why such dreams?

“Well it’s pretty normal to feel some romantic feelings for your friend. I mean I had a crush on someone when I was a kid, of course, backfired hard and we moved on.” “Trey, that doesn’t sound like a good example.” “Aha… well, I wasn’t serious about it since I wasn’t thinking serious, but if you really are serious about those dreams you have of them, Riddle, you should just tell them. You never know, maybe they feel the same way about you, too.”

The boy pondered for a while. “You feel the same way”… what if you do? And yet again he dreams again. He made it his plan, to apologise to you and explain why he did so, and tell you he’s come to accept his feelings and confess. Simple, practical and straightforward. He just hopes you think it’s genuine, because he really is.

He’s thought of the scenario over and over again, smiling softly to himself about how you’d nod your head and throw yourself at him to hug Riddle, and- “R-Riddle..?” He perked his head up with a startled look. You were right in front of him, suddenly bumping into you. “Er… how are you?” You smiled sadly, and he remembered how he had secluded you from himself. “W-wait, y/n I… I’m sorry…” “A-about what?” With his cheeks tinted pink, he took a deep breath… <3

Reblogs help!^^

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ham-st4r · 7 months

Text

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓽.3 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

📞 Pairing: heeseung + female reader!

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, cursing.

Genre: PSO (phone sex operator) heeseung.

Summary: too lazy to make one honestly :/ but y’all know the drill probably a couple errors in here too my bad 😣

Number of words: 1,981k

Feel like this is turning into my other work “cyber sex” and I’m highkey disappointed but I hope y’all will still like it

Pt.1 pt.2

Find your way around!

“You always make me feel so good, angel.” You hear Ethan panting on the other end after what had been nearly two hours of being on the phone doing and saying things that you never even dreamt of until you found him.

Despite your initial plans of not calling him back, you found yourself coming home from school the very next day and doing just that. You felt pathetic about it, using what little money you had scraped up from your part-time job just to have phone sex with a guy that was probably millions of miles away, and to top it off, he was probably also laughing all the way to the bank with the ridiculous amount of money you had already spent on these risque calls.

You shifted uncomfortably on your bed, pulling up your soaked panties and fixing your disheveled skirt.

“You had a good time, too, right?” He asks a bit hesitantly because of your sudden silence. He knew it always got a little awkward after you both came together, but you’ve never been this quiet after.

“Yes, Ethan. It always is,” you reply quietly, and he smiles from ear to ear on the other end, happy that you’re just as satisfied as him. You cleared your throat softly before speaking again. “Ethan, you don’t always have to pretend that you’re into it too. I’m fine with you just guiding me,” you say shyly, but it was the truth. You didn’t want him pretending that he was enjoying himself when he clearly wasn’t.

“W-what?” He asks, completely and utterly puzzled by your statement.

You giggle softly, finding it amusing how he tried to act like he didn’t know what you were saying, but it didn’t surprise you cause he’d always been professional at his job. “Ethan, I know you’re not really enjoying it, and that’s fine.”

He just laughs on the other end. “Angel, I think enjoying would be an understatement. I fucking love it when you call me. Love how sweet your moans sound in my ear, and you know what I love most?”

Your face feels hot from his words alone, but you’re still not convinced he’s telling you the truth, especially cause his job was all about pleasing people. He was probably just saying what you wanted to hear. “What, Ethan?” You ask him.

“Love hearing you cum for me,” he sighed softly, looking at the mess of cum all over his chest and stomach. “More than you know,” he whispers.

“Ethan, It’s fine if you do-“

“Angel, let me prove it to you, yeah?” He cuts your words, his voice sounding a little desperate to get you to believe him.

“How?” You question, not taking a moment to stop and even process what exactly is happening, only curious to figure out how he’s gonna prove to you that he’s telling you the truth.

“Do you have any socials? I would ask for your number, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” he chews on his biting lip, hoping he wasn’t coming off as some type of creep, but this is the only way he could think of to prove it to you.

Your heart rate picks up as you mutter your social to him, hoping it wasn’t a mistake giving your account to some random stranger. Well, not exactly random, but a stranger nevertheless.

“That’s my Angel,” he said softly and quickly typed in your account, following you at light speed.

Without thinking rationally, you immediately accept his follow request and open up a DM from him, anxious to see what it says.

Ethan: Hi angel!

You smiled when you saw what he sent. It was a picture of his palm that read angel on it with a little heart drawn next to it.

But before you swooned over him too hard, that could have been anyone’s hand, so you weren’t so quick to believe him just yet.

You: 🤨.

You typed out your reply, and you hear him laughing softly on the other end.

“Still not convinced, huh, angel? Fine, tell me what you want. I’ll do anything to prove it to you. You have every right to be apprehensive.” Your timidness wasn’t at all surprising by now. After a few calls with you, he was well aware that he had to take things slow, which was fine by him.

“Uhh, maybe a picture of your face?” You say more like a question, and it comes out sounding more than offensive. “I-I mean, n-not like- I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, it’s just- ” you sigh, deciding to just give up on trying to explain yourself, and you hear him laugh once again as you whine in defeat.

“You’re so cute. Fine angel, my face you shall get” he opened his front-facing camera and put his hand in front of his mouth, palm open so you could see the word that he had written prior, and what better way to prove that he was l telling the truth than to show the residual cum coating his upper body from your guys not so quick session earlier.

Your breath hitched the moment you saw it, and your hands fumbled on your phone, trying to exit the screen, shocked by the image you saw. It’s not that you didn’t like it, but it was so unexpected.

So unexpected that not only did you accidentally screenshot it, but you hung up on him as well.

He heard the rustling on your end before everything went silent. “Angel?” He peeked at his phone, seeing that the call had been disconnected. He almost had a heart attack before he realized he could quickly get a hold of you because of your shared socials.

Ethan: Hope I didn’t scare you off ☹️

He anxiously awaited your text. Minutes passed, and you still hadn’t replied. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to pressure you into responding if you didn’t want to.

You clutched your chest, face completely on fire from the picture he sent, and you shamelessly eyed every single last inch of his body that was in the frame, and he looked so hot.

While you were having your fun, he was having a complete meltdown, especially cause he saw that you had saved the picture.

Were you sending it to your friends? Were you laughing at him because he looked stupid? Did you find it disgusting?

Ugh

You probably did. Why did he think sending you a picture of him covered in his cum would be attractive?

Speaking of, he got up and went to the bathroom, wiping himself completely clean. Hopefully, by the time he was finished, you would have responded.

That was wishful thinking cause when he looked at his phone, he could see that his message was left on read.

He had the right mind to just block you and save himself the embarrassment, but it kinda was too late for that already.

Ethan: You there? 😬

The ding on your phone finally brought you back to reality, and you quickly typed a reply.

You: Yes

You felt bad you just left him waiting, but how could you be calm and collected enough to type a coherent reply after what he had just sent you?

He sighed in relief now that you had finally replied.

Ethan: So, is that proof enough that I’m not faking it?👀

You cupped your mouth, head hanging low in embarrassment because you practically called him a liar earlier.

You: Yes, sorry for not believing you 😞

Ethan: It’s okay, my angel girl 😘 so I saw you took a screenshot of the picture.. does that mean you liked it👀

You: Screenshot?

You reply confused

Ethan: Angel, you don’t have to pretend you didn’t. It’s fine

Your eyes nearly bulged from your sockets when you saw his reply because you didn’t screenshot anything.

You: Ethan, I didn’t

You told the truth you’d never screenshot anything without his consent.

Ethan: You sure? 🤨📸

He took a screenshot of his screen, clearly showing the part where it said you had taken a screenshot.

You: No…

Ethan: 🤥 yes

He sent back, laughing hysterically because why were you lying over something so trivial? Sure, if anyone else had taken a screenshot, he would have minded, but it was just you, so he wasn’t mad about it. He even thought it was kinda cute, in a way.

You: You calling me a liar? 🧐

Ethan: I never said that. I said, “🤥”

You: That’s the same thing!!?

Ethan: No, it’s just 🤥

You: I didn’t.

You stood your ground, but that screenshot of you clearly saving the picture was not helping your case. It was clear evidence.

You: You know what? fine, I’ll screenshot my gallery and send it to you.

Ethan: K 😌 I’ll give you time to delete it.

You ignored him and went into your gallery, and low and behold, that picture was the most recent one, and the pieces slowly came together.

Fuck.

Ethan: I’m waiting 🤥

You: Umm… so about that

Ethan: You did, and it’s fine, Angel. I’m not mad. I’m glad you liked it enough to want to keep it forever 🙈

You: Hear me out, I took it on an accident.

Ethan: 🥱🤥

You: STOP 😩 When you sent the picture, I was fumbling with my phone and accidentally took it. It was never my intention to save it. I’d never save a picture of you.

Ethan: Never? OUCH 😔

You: No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant without your consent, of course.

Ethan: So you would? 😃

You: Yesn't?

Ethan: Yes or no?

You: I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it…👀

Ethan: So yes? Okay then!

Before you could reply, he had already sent you another attachment, one that made your face heat up by a thousand degrees.

Ethan: You can save that one, too, angel. I like the idea of you having me in your phone 🥰

You hesitated for all of a second to save it, not thinking about the fact that you’d have a random bulge pic in your gallery, but who cares? That would only be between you and him.

Ethan: That was fast. You’re making me blush🤭

You: And you’re turning me on 😶

Heeseung had to look at his screen again, a blank look on his face as he blinked a few times to make sure he was reading that correctly. That wasn’t the angel he knew. How the heck were you so shy over the phone and so bold over text?

Ethan: I can show you more, you know? That’s if you want it.

He’d be lying if he said his boxers weren’t becoming taut. He’d also be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing in his chest cause it most definitely was cause he was literally about to bare it all to you.

You: More of what?🫣

Ethan: More of this

He took another pic. This time, his underwear around his thighs, his semi-hard cock resting in his palm while he turned the flash on so you could see the scribble of your nickname next to his cock, which had already grown more than an inch.

You: 😳

Ethan: Don’t get shy now. That’s exactly what you wanted, and we both know it, Angel.

You: I know, it’s just so….

You can’t believe a single picture of his cock could have you so turned on. You were heating up down there, and the faint pulse between your legs only amplified the longer you stared at it. He was so big and thick you nearly drooled at the sight on your phone screen.

Ethan: So???

He pulled his underwear back up while waiting for your reply.

You: Big 🫣

He smirked reading your text, and he swears you were the cutest little thing ever, so shy yet so bold he liked that about you a lot.

Ethan: That’s not even as big as it gets 🤫

You: Oh? So, just how big does it get, Ethan? 😝

Ethan: FaceTime me and find out 👀

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

Permanent taglist🔖 @hee-pster @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @heehoonsnemo

Just a call away taglist🔖 @heeseungshim @rayofsunshineeee @fakeuwus

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen #lee heeseung #smut

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2kiran · 7 months

Note

same anon here, but id love to have a one-shot of hesh/keegan/reader :0

゛ KEEGAN & HESH ⸝⸝ “uh oh, hesh's been caught.”

★﹐caution.﹑ sub top hesh. switch bottom keegan. top male reader. threesome. sex against a window. praise + degradation kink. name calling (baby, slut, bitch, sweetheart). marking. nipple play. unprotected sex. orgasm delay. fingering. dacryphilia. overstimulation. | word count. 1288 ◞

hesh's tongue ran across the width of the bottom row of his teeth. it was a knock to the door of reality, reminding him that the scene collapsing before — or rather above — him was very much real.

he realizes in this paused moment, he was fucked.

metaphorically and literally.

his feet drill into the ground, his throat dehydrated. his vision had betrayed him, a traitor to himself. he could've looked away, he could've walked, he could've forget. but he didn't. incapable, he was.

your hand melted into the shape of keegan's neck, keeping his body close. your hips met his ass, cock stretching out his insides as an audience gazed upon the scene. he was the only person foolish enough to have glanced up, directly landing on the window. keegan's heavy panting fogging the glass before his flushed face reappears clearly.

keegan leaned back, his body familiar with yours. it could be viewed as instinct; with the uncountable times he has met with your unescapable hold. your cock kissed at his walls, bringing him to a high he wouldn't forget no matter how hard the attempt.

hesh was there to watch, silently. unknowingly, somewhere in between the seconds of being the viewer, his length stirred with interest. the texture of his underwear was becoming coarse, begging to be freed from its confines.

he felt ashamed.

yet he couldn't bring himself to dwell on the emotion, because his feet took him to the building. his mouth has a mind of its own, forming an excuse on the spot when asked. his legs walked a steady pace, similar to your demanding hips that smacked against the back of keegan's.

hesh's face burned with embarrassment. even the cool breeze couldn't lessen the flames on his cheeks, as his hand clenched into a fist just mere moments away from knocking on your apartment door. it was wrong; terribly wrong. he didn't mean for it to land, thankfully soft but you and keegan still heard.

shit.

the breath in his lungs was knocked out. you had a towel wrapped around your waist, seemingly fresh out of a shower. anyone who paid attention more could tell that it was not the case, the scent of sex prominent to his nostrils.

"david?"

fuck, he always loved the sound of your voice.

"uh, hey." what the hell was he doing? this wasn't him.

he cleared his throat. "i'm sorry," he breathed out, huskily, "i didn't mean to s–stare." quit looking at him like that. he felt as if your eyes were piercing his soul, words tumbling recklessly.

your chuckle sent a shiver down his spine, your hand bunching up his shirt as you pulled him in for a kiss. "mmph!" immediately, he shut the door with his hand while you lead him in the room. you could feel the obnoxious warmth of his face, your palms easing his nervousness.

his tongue shyly slid against yours, connecting with each other. he whimpered, helplessly following after you and your lips.

keegan spoke, a hint of teasing within his tone, "aww, look who finally came." he didn't seem like he was doing any better than hesh, his hair disheveled and torso marked with hickeys and sweat. a strange emotion bubbled up in his chest.

was it... jealousy? anger? possessiveness? want?

"you have a lot on your mind."

the mattress was soft, perfect to be dreamt on. "y'know, i always thought highly of you," you mutter, lips pressed against his to prevent him from speaking, "but now?" breaking away, you gasp for breath, "you're just a pervert who doesn't know when to look away. you don't even know how to hide."

"i–i don't know what you're talking about." he stammered, the other man chuckling behind you.

"don't lie to us," keegan chirped, his hand gently taking hold of your hair for his lips to meet yours. his eyes didn't shut, maintaining contact with hesh's.

hesh squirmed in his place, nervous. this sight was foreign, unraveling like a crumbled paper. he was beginning to overthink, prepared to take his leave despite his eager cock that was straining against his pants. a thin trail of saliva hung onto the tip of your tongues, one that hesh wished to break.

"hesh, baby," you call, panting. "y–yeah?" his voice was small, cowering. keegan crawled on the bed towards hesh, hand curling around his thick thigh. keegan leaned closer, whispering, "you sure you want this?"

he nodded in response, yet it wasn't enough for the other ghost. "i need words, baby." hesh whined, as keegan's hand palmed his clothed dick. pressing down against it gently, "i want this. please."

tight.

warm.

and so fucking tight.

hesh's hands wrapped around keegan's hips, grip bruising. inch by inch, keegan sinked down on hesh's sensitive cock. he clenched around the man, calming his breathing in an attempt to relax. why did he have to be so big?

his confident demeanor weakened at the edges, biting down on his lip to muffle his whimpers. "can't take it?" you tease, brushing away a loose strand of hair from his eyes. he shook his head, brows furrowing in concentration. "does he seem any better?" keegan tilted his head, gesturing the man beneath him.

you cast a glance towards hesh. he appeared as drunk; drunk off the pleasure that he was receiving. both of you barely even began.

"pl–please, slower." hesh groaned, twitching inside of the other man.

keegan scoffed, experimentally rolling his hips. he can't deny it, though. he found hesh's submissiveness attractive. his head spinning when your teeth nip at his skin, your gentle hands carefully guiding him over the other man's cock. "fuckin' slut," you flick your tongue at his nipple, "letting anyone fuck you." he shook his head, pouting.

"what's this then, huh?" hesh answered for him with a low whine, "take it easy on him." you remind, pinching his other nipple. "f–fuck—aah!" he inhaled sharply, hesh's cock being completely situated inside of him at last. "cum—m'gonna cum!" hesh warns, his eyes rolling back.

keegan lifts himself up, dropping back down until he was able to search a pace he could maintain. "i can't—i can't take it anymore. please, please, wanna cum. i need it." pleading, hesh was. it was nearly incoherent, syllables no more than babbles of lust.

hastily, keegan quickened his movements. hole sucking him back in, urging for hesh to let go. it didn't allow him to last any longer.

ropes after ropes splattered against his walls, painting his hole white. you press down on keegan's tip, earning a groan. "mmng– shit, why–gah, m'already close." his eyes were similar to a puppy's, lips in a pout.

"look at him."

hesh lets out a soft 'hm?'.

you grab keegan's jaw, forcing him to look back at the man beneath in the eye.

"do you think he deserves to cum?"

that caught him off guard. he nods, rather a little hesitant. it was barely noticeable, before a meek 'yes' follows.

keegan whines when your hand leaves his dick, but he regrets his reaction as you prod at his stuffed hole. "wh–what are you doing?" he internally panics, the digit slipping in with no restraint. "hngh?!"

"such a greedy little bitch, aren't you?" your finger brushes against hesh's twitching length. "taking us so well." the two of them were dizzy off euphoria while you appeared so unbothered. it made them helpless. "too–too much, (name), it's too—" you interrupt hesh, "shh, sweetheart."

a sniffle.

"fuck, are you crying?"

keegan clenched at that. "don't stop." hesh immediately croaks, his back arching at the abrupt squeezing. indeed, he was crying.

you pretend to contemplate, humming softly in amusement, "what am i going to do with the both of you?"

the beginning. thirst. masterlist.

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lauraneedstochill · 2 years

Text

Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it’s just silly fluff author’s note: this was inspired by “Crazy, stupid, love”, particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story (also, I may or may not have a thing for men’s hands... you’ve been warned)

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don’t really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

“If you don’t stop, I might bite your hand off,” she says, sitting across the table.

“Then I’ll use the other one,” you huff but pause your fidgeting. “Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good.”

“But I like your head very much,” she pouts. “Is this about Thomas again?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can’t stop thinking about his words.

“He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know,” you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

“I hope he won’t.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!” you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man,” her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

“Mar, you know I don’t have much of a choice,” you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. “He isn’t that bad, really. He’s always been kind to me.”

“Sounds like every girl's dream,” she rolls her eyes. “And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?”

“What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I’m clearly missing something,” you cross arms on your chest. You know she’s right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“All I’m saying is that for as long as I can remember you’ve always dreamt of something more,” she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?” you giggle at the memory. “You’ve got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story,” there’s a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

“And you think Thomas is not the one?” you sigh.

“He’s epically boring at best,” Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. “I know he’s not the one — and you do, too.”

“My parents approve of him,” you try to argue, but she’s quick to object.

“They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it,” Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

“You are aware that I can’t wait forever, right? I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor smarter,” she snickers.

“Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of ten-and-two,” you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

“Fair,” she beams, and you can’t stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

“Maybe the concept of love is overrated,” you ramble. “It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I am growing older, it’s getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I’m trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away,” you quote your mother. “Yet all of them just make me feel nothing. At all. And I—” you realize that Margaret isn’t listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. “Hey, I’m pouring out my heart of gold,” you hiss, and her sight shifts to you.

Before you can question her behavior, she informs. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you.”

“Margaret, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about my future,” you fight the urge to turn around.

“Maybe this is your future!” she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

“We are in a tavern out of all places! I’d rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one,” you’re about to scold her, but your friend’s eyes go wide.

“His hair,” her voice is barely above the whisper. “I can make out the strands of silver,” Margaret slightly leans towards you. “You know what that means?”

“That you had too much wine? Mayhaps we should head home,” you suggest, but your friend protests.

“Sit down!” she shushes. “He is coming over here,” Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you’re too tired to play along.

“Mar, it’s been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man’s arrogance and...,” you don’t get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought.

“What if a man entertains you?” his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don’t want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He is taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it’s not hard to guess that he’s a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don’t stand up in his presence.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine,” he is only looking at you.

“We just met, you should not jump to conclusions,” you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

“Sharp tongue,” he notes.

“Will this be a problem?” you challenge him.

“On the contrary,” it sounds like he’s actually enjoying it.

It is tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there’s no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

“What brings you here, if I may ask?” you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

“It is a nice tavern, wouldn’t you say so? Since you are here, too.”

“No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could’ve graced with your presence.”

“Something must’ve caught my eye,” he says, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Some thing? Well, the interior isn’t very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that.”

“You aren’t being very agreeable, it seems.”

“That’s what servants are for, and I’m not one,” you’re being defiant yet it doesn’t bother him.

“Please, do tell me more about yourself,” he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

“Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space.”

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

“I think we have that in common,” he bites back, but there’s no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don’t take offense at his wit.

“Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?” you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

“I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think,” you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

“You don’t trust people easily, do you? How’s that for an observation,” his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

“Men,” you correct him. “I don’t trust men.”

“Any of them dared to break your trust?” he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

“That would’ve required them to gain my trust first,” you retort.

“And what would it take for me to do so?”

“Do you expect me to make it easy? That’s not very observant of you,” your grin matches his own.

“Nothing good comes easy,” he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. “But I expect it to be worth it.”

You feel a pull toward him, something that’s hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn’t intimidating but rather attractive, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can’t throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

“That is enough entertainment for today,” you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” the blond comments.

“You should manage your expectations.”

“Maybe I should manage yours,” he has some nerve.

“That would be very time-consuming,” you suddenly realize that he’s sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn’t going to move.

“Are you in a rush?”

“I am” — “She isn’t,” you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

“Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?” he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

“Does this usually work for you?” you get up, thinking of a way out.

“You tell me,” he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

“Cornering women in taverns is your way of courting?” you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. “And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?”

“They come voluntarily,” it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. “I happen to live nearby,” he notes casually.

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

“Want to bet?” he sits up straight.

“And what do I get out of this?”

He looks you up and down before answering:

“Me.”

He’s pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That’s when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

“Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?” you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he’s now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you are not going anywhere. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don’t have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive,” you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret’s face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

“I need you to explain what the h—” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“Please, don’t,” you snarl. “Don’t say anything, just give me five minutes.”

You can’t even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you are dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you’ve learned — and it wasn’t that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn’t stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn’t want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn’t talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can’t stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don’t know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn’t seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he’s agitated, and it looks weird. That’s also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven’t done much kissing after that. You wonder what it’s like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

“I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement,” he starts his pompous monologue, “that may not come as a surprise to some of you.”

You cautiously look at the door.

“But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods.”

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you’ve known Thomas, he’s never been to the Sept once.

“And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

“May I have a word?” you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

“It is about your speech,” you clarify. “It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um,” you’re trying to formulate your concerns. “I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say,” you give him a tight smile.

“Oh,” his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. Oh?

“I am actually glad you asked,” he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

“You know, you’ve been a great companion of mine,” his voice is as weak as his smile. “And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy,” his hands feel like jelly, and you don’t want to hold them. Like, ever. “But now that I’m choosing to follow my destiny,” you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. “I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us.”

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

“You need... some time?” you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. “You? Need to think about us?” you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There is a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can’t control it as you’re overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There’s no way you’ll ever marry this man.

“I am the one who should be glad, Thomas,” you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. “Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

“Where are you going?!”

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

“I have a meeting, it’s of great importance,” you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it’s already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you’re torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won’t be there. That he doesn’t remember you. That he’s with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he’s sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond’s lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it’s the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

“You remember me?” you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

“Still believe that nothing good comes easy?” you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

“Definitely,” Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

“Is the bet still on?”

“Yes,” the corners of his mouth curl.

“Lead the way, then.” By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can’t tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

“You need to get out of these,” he points at your coat and dress. “They’re soaking wet.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me naked?” you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he honestly states. “I’ll fetch you a shirt of mine.” Sensing your doubts, he adds, “Don’t worry, it is long enough.”

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It’s spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

“You take interest in philosophy?” his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

“I do, indeed,” you confess. “And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart.”

“You can take mine,” Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

“Shouldn’t you change as well?” you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head.

“No need.”

“Oh, was it the Targaryen’s dragon blood that helped you dry up?” you tend to jest when you’re nervous, and right now is no exception.

“My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too,” his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back. “Thank you for the shirt.”

“It looks really good on you,” the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh.

“I must admit, I like this way of courting better,” you place the book back. “But you can cut it short. What’s your move?”

“My... move?” Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“Yes, your big move. Show me,” you request eagerly.

“Don’t know what you're talking about,” he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

“What do you usually do to impress a lady?”

“I don’t really need to do anything,” Aemond shrugs.

“What a humble individual you are,” you chuckle and give him a minute to think. “So what is it?”

“I just told you...,” it seems like he’s trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

“Oh, come on! You princes always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big,” he snorts. “No? Try to win her over with your...,” you gesture at his bookshelves, “...precious collection? Although it’s risky because what if she’s not into reading, that would be awkward,” and then it hits you. “Wait, it’s the dragon, isn’t it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it’s well-fed, though, otherwise you’ll have a date with a roasted —”

“It’s my sword,” he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

“Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth—”

“Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with.”

“That description didn’t help,” you tease, and he groans.

“You know what I mean,” Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can’t take him seriously.

“I do, you just look really charming when you are embarrassed,” you say cheekily, which makes him huff. “My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?”

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in.

“I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them,” he talks with his hands when he’s uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” Aemond nods.

“They watch you train, and that’s what does it for the ladies?”

“I don’t know why, I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, someone should. Can’t imagine it ever working on me.”

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You’re standing a few feet apart, and he’s yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

“I’m not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain,” he concludes.

“But it’s not about the place, is it? Must be something about you,” now you’re the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

“I don’t have a sword on me.”

“Opt for something smaller, I am sure it will do,” you hint at the dagger that you’ve seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it’s the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you are focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He’s maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

“Are you weak in the knees yet?” his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you’re surprised you are not sweating yet.

“Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?” your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn’t budge. For a short while, you’re taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you.

“Wait, how many ladies were here before me?”

“I never said I take them here,” he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

“But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them.”

“In the training yard, with other people around us, yes.”

“So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel,” his actions confuse you, but while you’re looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

“It would’ve been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them,” he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It’s the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you’re the one at fault. But you aren’t — and he isn’t, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

“I shall consider myself lucky, then,” you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

“You are... something else,” Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn’t used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face.

“Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?” Aemond narrows his eye.

“I never said that,” you smile coyly. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder.”

“I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve,” he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can’t stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

“Don’t,” you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn’t fight it. You would’ve been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn’t completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It’s cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There is a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that’s close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that’s been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

“Wow,” you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

“...What?” he manages to ask.

“You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?” you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue.

“A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I’ve heard,” you can almost feel him swelling with pride. “He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible,” your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

“A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn’t averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would’ve been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure,” you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. “Yet I am the one who’s been honored to see all of him,” you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to pick which one I like more...,” you are barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He’s been holding back the first time, but he isn’t now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

“Was that impressive enough?” he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

“Yeah-yes. Yes, very,” you utter, at a loss for words.

“Good. Because I’m about to outdo myself,” he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

#aemond targaryen x reader #not gonna lie the main reason I'm finally posting this is because a few ppl on AO3 liked it and it gave me a *little* boost of confidence #kinda??? I mean it also took me a few days of trying to convince myself to post it on tumblr #(also I've been staring at this draft for 4 hours)#my confidence is non-existent lmao #my stuff #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #oh god how many tags can I come up with #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #hotd fanfiction

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rodolfoparras · 9 months

Note

Corruption kink with Noir where he's so gentlemanly and polite and we (being the pervert we are) wanna crack that surface and make him so horny and drunk on pleasure he can't think clearly enough to be a gentleman anymore

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Spider-Man Noir x Top Male Reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, Sub!Noir, Dom! Male reader, corruption kink, accidental voyeurism, alluded gun play, power dynamics (Noir’s a detective, reader is a criminal), riding, rimming, alluded oral sex, non consensual recording

A/N: corruption kink is on my wont write list since it’s not really my thing but I’m ok with this pair’s dynamic so I decided to give this a try (and added my own little spin to this)! However pls make sure to read my list before requesting! Also I tried a different style of writing here since I really wanted to expand on the elements mentioned in Detective’s work. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Ever since Noir entered the police academy he’s dreamt of making a name for himself.

He just never thought it would be this way, sat in front of three burley men known as disciplinary officers, watching what’s supposed to be interrogation tapes but were anything but that.

“This is detective Noir at New York Police department. Today’s date is Wednesday, March 13th 1934. The time is 08:45 AM. This will be a recorded conversation with…..”

It’s clear that Noir’s nervous, you can hear it in his voice, can see it in the way he’s constantly straightening out his uniform, even in the way he’s adjusting his glasses and rearranging things on the table.

You’re seated opposite to him and despite the bright orange uniform you’re wearing and the cuffs around your wrists, you’re smiling while listening to him.

“Could you tell me a bit about where you were…”

When Noir first got tasked with this job, he couldn’t believe his ear.

He’d just graduated from the police academy, barely made a place for himself at the station before he’d been assigned to deal with the most prominent criminal plaguing the city.

He was very well aware of the name you’ve made for yourself, reminded himself even to be careful when starting to work on your case.

He just never thought things would turn out this way.

The tape freezes for just a second before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir perched on your lap, uniform long discarded onto the floor and voice hoarse as he desperately tries to make himself cum.

“Please please” Noir sobs out while practically bouncing on your cock.

You’re still sat in your chair, wearing the very same overalls as before just with your bottom half pulled down to expose your cock. Your arms are still cuffed but pulled behind your back and you’re sporting the very same grin on your face while facing the camera lens.

“You can do it doll, I know you can” you say, eyes half lidded and mouth agape, sounding relaxed as ever as if you didn’t have the head detective of your case riding your dick.

And really that’s all it takes for Noir to start unraveling, coming with a cry spilling all over your overalls and his abdomen.

The recording’s abruptly cut off, his pulse is roaring in his ears, shaky breathes escaping his lips as he scrambles his brain for something to say.

But just as he’s about to say something, another tape starts playing

You’re in the same room as before but this time Noir’s sat on the table rather than on the chair. He appears much more confident, arms folded over his chest and looking down at the notes next to him.

So far the interrogations are going well , everyone’s amazed with just how much information the newbie is able to get. When asked about it Noir says that confidence is key, you can even see it oozing from him in the recordings.

But this is just a facade. His arms are folded over his chest to hide the sweat stains. He’s sat on the table in hopes of disguising the tent he’s sporting in his pants while staring down at his notes to avoid your burning gaze.

“Alright, we talked briefly about….”

You’re still sitting in the same chair, looking just as relaxed as before, even appearing intrigued with the interrogation or rather the interrogator.

Your cuffed hands are resting on the table, the overalls you’re wearing clearly straining as you lean closer to him, while your eyes trail along the length of his body.

Once again the tape freezes before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir with his ass up in the air, chest flush against the table. His hands are behind his back, fingers parting his cheeks while you’re tonguing his puckered hole.

“Please please-” Noir slurs out while erratically bucking up against your mouth.

“Tell me what you want pretty,” you say as you pull away and he almost sobs at the loss of contact.

“Let me cum, please, please I need it,”

The camera’s a bit further away, video lacking color but it doesn’t take much to see he’s got flushed cheeks, drool dripping down his chin as he desperately chases his release.

Theres a string of words he wants to say as an officer turn off the tape, a flux of emotions bubbling up in his gut as he takes in the disgusted expressions of the people that once admired him , a burning need to walk up and take the tape away as he digs his nails into the palms of his hand but before he can do so the officer puts in another one.

There’s no video, only an audio recording, no introduction this time around, no question being read out loud. It’s almost like the people aren’t even aware that they’re being recorded.

That’s when it hits him, they must’ve secretly been recording you and him. They being the police squad. They had started to get suspicious, huge parts of the footage from the interrogations had started to go missing, suspicions rose even more when he had requested to stop all recordings so they had to decide the bug the room while Noir was holding an interrogation.

Hushed words sound through the speaker, then there’s the sound of something shuffling around, accompanied with squelching before he hears you speaking.

“Fuck, you wouldn’t even care if you got your head blown off huh?” You say whilst laughing hysterically in disbelief.

There’s more squelching sounds, more shuffling around, a groan leaving your lips that’s being picked up by the mic.

“Just like that keep going ah fuck!,”

His gaze meets the officers’ as he hears you say

“What would the officers think if they saw you like this?”

#spider noir #spider noir x reader #spider noir x male reader #top male reader #bottom male character #dom male reader #sub male character #Alec writes #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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girlactionfigure · 15 days

Text

"From the River to the Sea"

@Daniel_Sugarman

In this thread, I’m going to go into some detail about what the phrase “From the River to the Sea, Palestine will be Free” means to many Jewish people. You may not agree, but I hope that it may enlighten those who simply don't understand the almost visceral reaction to it.

🧵

2) For the benefit of a number of students at some of America’s most expensive higher education institutions, let’s start by clarifying - the river is the River Jordan, the sea is the Mediterranean.

3) So what do those chanting it mean? When asked, a bunch of them will say they want a single state in this area in which all people can live together in dignity and equality. Sounds great, right? Who would argue with that?

4) That claim is somewhat muddied when one particular version of that chant is used in Arabic, as has been heard and seen at various protests - من المية للمية / فلسطين عربية “From water to water, Palestine is Arab”. But let's leave that aside for the moment.

5) Note that the protesters are not calling for Israel to be *changed* into what they see as a free and equal society. For them this can only be achieved by Israel being *ended* and replaced by Palestine.

6) Objectively, you can say that the reason for this is that the protestors believe that Israel (and Zionism) is fundamentally incompatible with what they see as equality and freedom for all, which is why for them it has to go in its entirety. But...

7) But there is a significant degree of ambiguity as to what the end result *actually* means. And it’s that question mark which is why so many Jewish people see this slogan the way they do.

8) Because Jewish people have lots of different examples of what happens to Jewish communities who are minorities in countries in the MENA region. They get destroyed. I'll give you some examples.

9) Egypt. 1948 - 75,000 Jews. 2024 - 30 Jews.

10) Lebanon. 1948 - 9,000 Jews. 2024 - 20 Jews.

11) Syria. 1948 - 15,000 Jews. 2024 - 4 Jews.

12) Yemen. 1948 - 55,000 Jews. 2024 - 1 Jew.

13) Iraq. 1948 - 156,000 Jews. 2024 - 1 Jew.

14) Iran. 1948 - 150,000 Jews. 2024 - 8,750 Jews (under the strict control of the Iranian regime).

15) Libya. 1948 - 40,000 Jews. 2024 - No Jews.

16) Algeria. 1948 - 150,000 Jews. 2024 - 150 Jews,

17) Tunisia. 1948 - 105,000 Jews. 2024 - 1,500 Jews.

18) Morocco. 1948 - 270,000 Jews. 2024 - 2,000 Jews.

19) The anti-Zionist narrative is that this mass Exodus was the fault of the Zionists, who created Israel. No Israel, goes the refrain, and all those communities would still be there.

This ignores a very simple point.

20) In every single one of these countries, to a greater or lesser extent, Israel’s independence was followed by significant repression of local Jewish populations.

Every one.

21) Remind me, what’s the way to describe holding members of an ethnic or racial group responsible for what other members of that group may have done elsewhere?

22) By doing so - oppressing the local Jewish population via pogroms, repressive laws, denying Jewish people full citizenship, confiscation of land and property - these MENA countries made a more effective argument for Zionism than Israel ever could have done by itself.

23) What that said, very clearly, was that Jews as a minority in a MENA country lived there strictly on sufferance. That at any time they could be deprived of everything - including their lives.

This had been clear pre-Zionism too, but the reaction post-'48 put the seal on this.

24) Which brings us back to now. The one-state Palestine being dreamt of is one where, at best, Jews will be allowed to live as a minority.

25) I put it to you that the experience of more than half of Israel’s Jewish population - descended from those who had to leave MENA countries, means that they *know* what the end result of such a Palestine will be.

A land without Jews.

26) This, by the way, given most Israeli Jews now are descendants of MENA Jews is also why the “post-colonial” depiction of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as some sort of “white vs brown” battle is so utterly brainless. And that’s before we discuss Israel’s many Ethiopian Jews.

27) I’ve gone on too long, I know, but just one final point. If the anti-Israel protestors really wanted to assure Jews - all Jews - that there would be a real future for Jews in their hoped for future one-state Palestine - they would be doing their best to engage with Zionists.

28) They would be saying “Zionism is an ideology built on numerous examples - in MENA and in Europe - that Jews are, in the long term, only safe in their own country. Let us show you that this isn’t necessarily the case. Let’s talk. Find common ground. Try for friendships.”

29) Instead Zionists are told they are Nazis. The same age-old antisemitic conspiracy theories about Jewish control are applied to “Zionists”. “Zionists” are excluded from the Community of the Good.

30) Congratulations!

You’ve just proved every single Jewish Zionist’s point for them - and you’ve helped create new ones. In a very similar way to those MENA countries post 1948.

*Thread ends*

#Israel #Jews #Middle East

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dragon-kazansky · 25 days

Text

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Seven - Burgess curse

☆☆☆

"You have to wake up."

You're not sure exactly what happened or who that man was, but you were afraid. Dream wasn't opening his eyes, and you didn't know what to do.

Matthew stood next to you, looking at you both. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the unconscious Dream.

"So, uh, I have to ask..." Matthew started. You glance at him, but only for the briefest of moments. "Are you two... close?"

"No."

"You seem kind of close."

"We're not." You curl up into a ball and take some deep breaths. You're not sure what's going to happen if he doesn't wake up.

"But he was worried about you."

"Look, Matthew... it's complicated. I'm his soulmate or whatever. It doesn't mean anything. The only reason he is tagging me alone is because of that. Once we're done here, I plan to leave. I don't know where I'll go, but I'll figure it out."

"You're not going to stay with him?" Matthew caws.

"No."

"Maybe you should."

You look down at the raven again. You're sat there talking to a bird waiting for the Sandman to wake up. Nothing is making sense, and everything is overwhelming. You just wanted to rest.

"Why don't you get some sleep. I'll keep watch," Matthew offers.

You feel like you would rather stay awake, but you csnt dent how tired you were starting to feel. Matthew seemed trustworthy, and after everything that's happened, you needed to trust in something. Maybe this was your new normal, after all.

After a few hours, Dream wakes. He opens his eyes slowly and takes a moment to gather his thoughts together. He remembers being in Hell and then coming to get his ruby. When he touched the ruby, he could tell something was wrong.

Morpheus pushes himself up with a soft groan. Matthew hops into view and looks up at him.

"Matthew."

"Uh, my lord." Matthew bobs his head down into a bow. "We were worried about you."

"We?"

Matthew turns his head and looks over at where you're sleeping. You're curled up against the wall. Dream gazes over at you. This is the quiest you've been since he rescued you.

Morpheus moved over to you quietly and took a moment to admire you. You're very pretty.

He thinks back to what you said to him. You dreamt of him when he was trapped. As you lay there in front of him now, he wondered what you dreamt about now.

He raised his hand toward you, feeling tempted to touch you gently, but you began to stir, and he took his hand back quickly.

You wake up and turn your eyes toward him. "You're awake!"

"Yes." He watches you push yourself up into a sitting position. He wanted to ask how you were doing but resisted. "The ruby?"

"Gone. There was a man. He came and took it. I don't think he saw us, but he's gone. I'm not sure where."

Morpheus looks at you. You had stayed by his side. You could have left at any point, but you didn't. That meant quite a lot to him, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

"I can find the ruby. It has been altered, but I'll be able to find it. Come." Morpheus leads the way out of the storage unit.

You get up by yourself and take a moment to look down at Matthew before following Morpheus out of the storage unit. You have no idea just how much time had passed while inside there. It took a while for Morpheus to wake again. You can tell he knows more of his power is gone. He is weaker than he was before. The ruby has robbed some more of his power at seemed.

You find yourself outside a diner. The place was in disarray. Something had clearly happened here. Morpheus glances at you and then steps inside. You follow him quietly.

People lay dead in the middle of the room.

You stand by the door as Morpheus approaches the man sitting at the counter alone.

"Hello." The man sighs. "I'm John. I'm glad you're here. The power has gone out. So there's no TV, and no one left to talk to."

"What is it you think you're doing?" Morpheus asks.

"Saving the world from its lies."

"The ruby wasn't made for that."

John gasps softly. "Oh, you're the Sandman. My mother was right. She said you'd be coming for it."

"You must return it to me so that I can repair the damage you have done." Morpheus tells him.

"I'm not giving it back to you, it's mine."

"It is harming you, John, and your world."

"It's revealing the truth," John says softly. "This is the truth of mankind."

"No. You're wrong. This is the truth of mankind."

Morpheus shows John how these people he killed lived their lives. What they did. What they dreamed about. How they lived. He took all of that away from them.

Kate dreams of running away where no one could find her. Garry dreams of proving his father wrong. Bette dreams of creating something that would matter to people. You feel sorry for all these people. Their hope had been taken from them.

"The ruby is hurting you, John." Morpheus says to him. "It has too much of my power within it. It stole more when I tried to use it."

"Then perhaps if I use it to steal the rest of your powers, I will be the King of Dreams." John says.

You frown.

"Your mother... what was her name?" You ask.

John's eyes turn to you. He looks like he only noticed you now. You don't think much of it as you watch him closely.

"Ethel." Dream answers for him.

"Your father..." You look at John. "My word..."

"Do I know you?" John asks.

"No. No, but I... I think I know you. Sort of." You tell him your name. "Rodrick was my father too. Though you didn't know him. I did. I lived in his house for many years."

"You don't look old enough," he comments, suspicious of your words.

"No. I suppose I don't." You glance down at yourself. You had almost forgotten you had long since stopped aging.

"Did he love you?"

You look up at him in slight shock. You didn't think he'd ask that. "No."

"I see." John takes a moment to look at you. Really look at you. "We are alike then."

"Are we?"

Dream is cautious of the other man. He doesn't quite like this conversation topic. This man could use you against him if he was clever about it. Dream didn't want to take any chances.

"I think so, yes." John nods.

"I don't want power," you tell him softly.

"I'm want to expose the lies."

"Lies?"

"People turn a blind eye to the truth. They pretend not to see it and live in a fantasy just to make them feel better. Wouldn't the world be a better place of everyone was honest?"

"Honesty is important, but so are dreams. It is not for you to decide what people do and don't do." You look at him firmly and raise your hand up. "Give me the ruby."

"No." He shakes his head. "I know what you're trying to do. I won't let you."

You want to take a step closer to him, but Morpheus reaches out and grabs your wrist gently. He pulls you behind him gently.

"If you would rob a Dream lord of his power, you shall do so in his realm. In dreams."

Just like that, John is in the Dreaming. You have no idea where you are. You assume this is his realm. This is your first time here. Everything felt strange.

While John chases his past through dreams. Morpheus prepares to deal with him.

John comes to the throne room. "Is this your palace... Dream Lord? Is this your throne... King of Lies? Well, it's mine now!"

John raises the ruby in his hand. The palace begins to crumble. "Are you watching? Can you see me?" The palace continues to burn away. "Using your own powers to burn away your lies."

"You must stop." Morpheus appears with his helmet on. "It is not too late to save yourself."

"Oh, you think it's me that needs saving?" John says.

"Your father stole the ruby from me and cursed you with it."

"You mean he blessed me with it." John raises the ruby up again. "Your reign ended when my father captured you. Your kingdom is my birthright."

"No!" You shout, but he doesn't listen. John is killing Morpheus with the ruby.

"Your power resides within me."

Morpheus falls to the ground, curled up, unable to fight back. "How does it feel to know I hold your life in my hands?" John asks.

"You're hurting the dreamers," Morpheus says, grunting in pain.

You can not go to him. Morpheus has made it so. He didn't want you hurt at the hands of John Burgess.

"Well, it's time they woke up! Your life and your lies end now."

John crushes the ruby. Everything around him is gone. He did it. He killed the Sandman, or so he believes.

"Thank you, John."

John looks up to find himself looking up at the Dream Lord. He is standing on his palm, feeling so small compared to this Dream Lord.

"But I killed you."

Morpheus speaks. "You destroyed the ruby and released the power inside it. I would never have thought of that. I'd forgotten just how much of myself I had placed in the jewel."

"Are you going to kill me?" John asks.

"I could. Perhaps I will. But the dream stone was not made for mortals. And it came to you through no fault of your own. So, no, John. I will not kill you."

☆☆☆

You stand in the throne room and gaze up at the large coloured windows. A lone throne sits at the top of a set of stairs. Dream stated he had to deal with John and that he would be back soon.

You turn with the sound of footsteps behind you and find Lucienne coming over to you, Matthew flying over her head and landing beside you.

"Welcome," she greets you.

"Hello."

She looks at you for a few moments, taking you in. This was her first time seeing you. She was curious about the woman fated to her king.

"Will he be long?" You ask softly.

Lucienne lifts her head up a little bit and town answers. "I don't think so."

"I see."

Silence fills the space between you both again. You're not sure what else to say to her. You just wanted to talk to Dream about what happens now. He has his tools.

"A room has been made for you," Lucienne tells you.

"A room?"

"Yes. Where you shall stay. If it is not to your liking, you can tell Lord Morpheus, I am certain he can change it to how you like."

You don't have the heart to tell her you don't intend to stay, but never the less you nod. Lucienne takes you to your room.

You enter the neatly decorated place. There's a bed, a dresser, a vanity table, and a chair next to a stained glass window.

"You can wait in here until his return," Lucienne suggests.

You say nothing and walk over to the bed, taking a seat on the night sky bedding. Lucienne looks at you once more before leaving you alone.

You sigh and lay back on the bed.

You had a feeling nothing in your life would ever be the same again.

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @star-maker-rain-dancer - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 - @hopshusushi - @sloppyzengarden - @thecraziestcrayon -

#heart of the dreaming #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #soulmate au #dragon writes

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for refusing to be a surrogate mother for my ex?

IDK if the phrasing is ok, english is not my first language and I have a headache.

This was years back but I dreamt about it a couple of nights ago so it might still bother me.

My ex(25M) and me(25F) had a 2y relationship, we had known each other since middle school but became close and dated until college.

Those 2 years were nice and lovely, I have many good memories and wish him the best.

The last months were very rough, we were having problems and we weren't communicating, I won't go deeper into that.

I didn't know he was planning to propose because marriage was not talked often or at all for that matter. So, when I cut him off, in person, well it was obviously not nice. We still talked but he was very hurt.

A year or so later he told me he wanted to talk to me in private but I kinda had a feeling so I told him whatever he wanted to say my partner would know because we talk about everything.

He was hesitant but accepted.

He revealed he had been having health issues, doctors told him he had just a few years left. What he had exactly he didn't reveal.

He told me before that, yk, dying, he wanted to have a kid but not with anyone, it had to be me. (!?!?!?)

I was... Shocked and also very worried about him, but also what?

He hurried to clarify he would pay for in-vitro procedures so he was not asking for sex, he would pay and cover any expenses, I did not have to be the kid's parent, actually that it was better if they didn't learn about me at all. Nothing would be asked of me a side from lending my uterus and an ovary.

I have to clarify he was/is very dear to me, so I was not through the initial shock of learning he would die soon.

My reaction was probably a bit intense and fucked up. I asked the following:

Why would you ask to have a kid knowing you'll be gone soon??

What will happen to our kid when you pass?

Who will take care of them?

He told me it was almost all planned, his family would take care of the kid he just wanted to experience paternity and leave "a piece of myself" behind.

I thought it was bogus.

Why make that to a kid?

I understand having a kid is a big cornerstone for lots of people but if you know your life is ending why leave a kid behind on purpose? IDK it felt wrong.

It was already WILD for him to ask me, an ex, already in a relationship and a kid, to give him a baby just out of the blue without further explanations than "I'm going to die soon".

I told him I could not answer right away , I had to talk about this with my partner. I was already leaning heavily on denying as it all felt wrong.

When talking over this with my partner I noticed I was very concerned about this not even existing kid and I would not be able to keep myself away knowing they would be orphaned prematurely. So the answer was obvious.

When meeting again I tried to be very polite, I made it clear I didn't agree with his plan and I was not going to partake in it cause I felt it was unfair for the kid.

He was clearly hurt, tried to push a bit(not violence tho) to make me understand what he was going through and how this could be beneficial for his mental health.

It all ended there, he didn't take it well and was very disappointed.

Some additional info that could be relevant, we're now on our 30's, last time I talked to him it was 2 years ago and he seemed fine but almost never answers my messages checking up on him.

Him or his family are not rich nor am I so the concern of his elderly parents having to care for the kid was also a big factor.

He was never too big on having kids when we dated, so this came very out of the blue.

So, AITA for not giving my ex a kid knowing he would die young?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

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kooktrash · 10 months

Text

HEAT OF THE MOON | jeon jungkook au [TEASER]

summary: In a far away land lives a young princess who’s dreamt of a place unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. trapped behind palace walls and a predetermined future, you wish upon a star for a life different from yours and find yourself at the hands of Jeon Jungkook—a broke musician stuck waiting tables day and night. this strange new pairing brings adventure to your lives and he helps you navigate through the real world and experience redamancy along the way.

➣ genre/au: fantasy. smut. parallel universe.

real world Jungkook x fantasy princess y/n

➣ wc: TBD

warnings: smut. angst. fantasy. humor. more TBD.

His black boots stepped into huge puddles of water as his denim jeans turned a shade darker when wet. The black and white leather jacket he wore did very little to actually conceal him from the rain and his white t-shirt still got drenched. He realized now it was going to be a long ride home.

The employee parking lot was poorly lit and down the sketchy back alley but he barely even noticed how dangerous the way was. He usually just walked without a care in the world knowing that if someone even tried it, he could give them a good ole’ ass whooping.

Just as he reached the parking lot, he nearly jumped in fear at the sight in front of him. He couldn’t see clearly through the rain but for a second he thought he saw a ghost dressed in white with wet hair concealing its face. The part of him that assumed he could survive a horror movie had him walking closer until he stood just a couple feet behind. It was now that he was up close that he realized this was not a ghost but a person, living? — he’s not sure yet.

“Hey,” Jungkook called as if that little word could get their attention, “It’s raining.” — as if they didn’t know that when they were completely drenched in rain water.

The person was a bit smaller than him in height and he worried for a second that something might seriously be wrong, so like the Good Samaritan he believes he is, he touched their ankle with the tip of his black boot, “Are you aliv—“

“Ah!” A loud scream burst through the air as you sit up from your lying position, now regaining consciousness feeling cold and alert when something touched you. Jungkook couldn’t help but yell too, worried that he really did find a ghost, “Ah!”

It took about a minute of uninterrupted screaming and staring for the two of you to stop and he watched you look around anxiously, “Where am I?”

Far away from the comfort of your palace, that’s all you knew.

JEON JUNGKOOK | Y/N L/N

::.

ok so I’ve been really in the mood for fantasy and ik It’s not for everyone so if this flops that’s okay :’). this is for me to write hehe

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog g @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt t @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #Jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic

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just-a-ghost00 · 2 days

Text

Where is your path taking you?

Images are from Pinterest. I do not own them. The decks used for this reading are the following : Crystals oracle to determine the imagery representing each groups energy, Threads of fate oracle shadow edition, below the surface oracle, White Numen tarot.

Group 1 - Meteorite - Connect to your "star stuff"

If you were drawn to the meteorite, you might consider yourself a starchild. You may have a fascination for stars, astronomy and astrology, science fiction and alien theories. You may find it difficult to connect with people and feel like you belong in a group. You may struggle with your sense of identity. The meteorite oracle card states the following :

" When to use it : When you're looking to conduct more spiritual energy, try Nickel-Iron meteorite. When you're looking to chat with a friend in another galaxy, go with Chrondrite meteorite. When you want to feel aligned to that universal energy that pulsates through everything, try Pallasite meteorite." It feels like you're doubting whether you'll ever find people that are on the same wavelength as you. Well, good news for you. You're getting closer to your soul fam. As you're intuition and connection to the universe are getting stronger, you're able to sense people with whom you may match or your magnetism is doing the trick for you, since you're raising your vibrations. This card also tells me that you may be deepening your connection to the spiritual realm. I'm especially picking up on your ancestry.

Now let's take a look at your other cards. You got the card n° 35 from Below the surface oracle : Oarfish - Be the bigger person. Your kindness is your strength. Here your spirit team is reassuring you on your ability to love and be loved. They're asking you to trust yourself and your qualities. You also got the card n° 34 : Titan triggerfish - Your bold side. Make the first move. Oarfish is a very long fish that adapts well in the depths of oceans. It seems that in different cultures, it is a symbol of misticism, intuition and inner work. It invites you to uncover hidden talents and truths that will help you on your journey. The titan triggerfish is known to be quite protective of its territory and rather aggresive, especially during mating season. Though being bold is a great quality, it shouldn't lead to arrogance and agressivity. Looking at these two cards together, it seems like your journey is taking you to a new territory. You might start a new project, discover a new interest or find a new job that gives you the opportunity to meet your people. Other cards that you have include "dare to dream" and "self love" from the Threads of fate deck. The first card is related to air and the second to water. "Dare to dream" is an invitation to "step wildly into your dreams, to visit them often, to ask them what they need from you". The guidebook insists that though we feel like our dreams are out of reach because we don't know how to reach them, we should still pursue them as dreams coming true is a collaboration between you and the universe. "Show up forthem and they'll show up for you too". To me this also means that lucid dreaming could be a way for you to either manifest these connections faster or to help you identify them when you meet them. Pursuing a dream could very well be the door to new friendships and alliances. Have you ever dreamt of starting your own rock band or publishing a book? Now might be the time to give these dreams more substance by taking a first step towards them. On this card, an eagle's claw is depicted holding tightly to a ruby. The claw is surrounded by Buckthorn. The eagle, the buckthorn and the ruby are symbols of resilience and durability. The Eagle's energy allows you to see clearly through people and situations, to spot the connections between events and people. While the buckthorn helps you deal with external influences that might deter you from following your path, the ruby helps you with the internal factors such as self limiting beliefs. The "self love" card provides a similar meaning as it figures a magestic peacock. Your journey is leading you to a higher perception of yourself and more acceptance of your identity.

It also leads you to success, personal and material accomplishment as well as more opportunities to grow, for your last two cards are the ten of pentacles and the two of wands. On the first card can be seen three animals that resemble white dogs and on the other is a snake. These animals could be reprensentative of the energy of the people you're about to meet. You could be traveling a bit more in the future.

Group 2 - Chrysocolla - Be your own mama.

If you chose this crystal, you may feel quite vulnerable lately and emotionally overwhelmed. You may ask for external validation and help in making decisions for yourself, as you don't trust your ability to be objective and thorough in your analysis of situations and people. You might be in a state of confusion and exhaustion because of someone or something going on in your life. You may feel anxious about the future. Your path is taking you to more control over your life and being your own parent. Meaning that you'll learn to nurture and provide for yourself. You'll learn to be your own mental and emotional suppport, as life may take you away from loved ones. Specifically, I'm picking up on the energy of students or young adults that are leaving the parental home for the first time to pursue their career or studies. It could also be that you're leaving a relationship and being single again scares you. You will be healing your heart chakra on this journey to your independence. Maybe some of you were taught at a very young age that they were unable to live on their own for some reason, that they would always need somebody else to succeed in life. These false and self limiting beliefs became your truth and made you depend on people when in reality you only needed yourself. Looking at your cards, I can tell that your path is taking you to reclaiming your power. Your cards from Below the surface deck are the following : n°23 Coconut Octopus - You're on the right path. Keep going through the in-betweens. n°14 Giant oceanic manta ray - Life is a marathon. Don't burn yourself out in one sprint. I get a strong feeling here that you were manipulated and belittled by people around you, made to feel like you were incompetent or even unstable. That you were worthless, untrustworthy, following the wrong path. Your spirit team is begging you to wake up. "You're not crazy, they are" is what I heard. Your gut feelings are accurate. Your vision of yourself and the world is accurate. Your opinion is valid. You have to keep pushing and keep going. Don't doubt yourself, your skills or your intent. Your mind is clear. People want you to belive otherwise because they are scared of your light, your influence and your power. You mirror back to them their BS and it makes them uncomfortable. The reality is that they dispise themselves more than they dislike you. You have done nothing wrong. Your journey is thus taking you back to clarity and to your inner truth. The octopus is a very clever creature. Its brain functions in ways that are so complex even humans fail to grasp its potential. Your energy is so intense and deep people fear it. You are not to be blamed for their inability to grasp your potential. The giant manta ray invites you to slow down and meditate, to take a few steps back in order to see the bigger picture. It is a symbol of healing, adaptability and focus, as the manta ray is a swift navigator that knows where its going and never loses sight of its destination. The manta ray is also called the "devil fish". People have been misinterpreting its nature which could be something that oftens happen to you. The manta ray highlights the importance of choosing your source of help wisely, if you ever feel the need for external support.

Following these cards are "fate" and "The Magi" from the Threads of fate deck. These two cards are related to the element of Ether. There's a quality to you that people can't grasp. They can't put you in a box basically because you were never meant to fit in one. You are meant to expand and grow beyond anything they could even comprehend. Your path will lead you to great manifestation and a better sight. You could be among the people whose influence in life will be meaningful and well known. You could find your calling in spiritual and divination practices such as tarot, pendulum or chiromancy. Fate and Magi card remind me of Doctor Strange and the multiverse. Similarly to this character, your path may lead you to the awakening of the ability to consider all alternatives and roads to achieve one goal, but also to predict which are likely to be more successful. These cards remind you of the importance of boundaries and the power our actions and words hold. Especially the power and meaning of saying no. The fate card figures an egg resting on a pillow while the Magi shows a hand supporting an eye. It feels like you are currently incubating but soon you will hatch and be able to see the world clearly with your third eye.

Your last two cards are The Chariot and The Empress. The energy of these cards feel welcoming but also extremely powerful. Your path is leading you to stepping into your feminine and leading your life with dignity and grace. The Empress here is depicted as being active contrary to traditional tarot. She stands proud and ready to battle with anyone that would try to dethrone her. She is fierce and with the Chariot in her shadow, she is a force to be reckoned with. She knows where she's heading and will not stop until she reaches her destination. The energies of Cancer and Taurus accompany you on your journey. The Venusian energy of Taurus will help you attract love and nurturing experiences. The lunar energy of Cancer will help you see beyond the veil and understand the threads of fate and their intricate design. You will slowly but surely become the Weaver of your life. Like a manta ray, you will swiftly navigate through shallow waters and like a spider weave your way through the lies and deceit people might want to trap you in.

Group 3 - Rhodochrosite - Soften your heart.

If you selected this group, you may be going through a break up or mourning the loss of a loved one. A situation that was important to you might have ended unexpectedly which left you feeling lost and resenting what was happening. Rhodochrosite is to be used when your heart hurts. It reminds you that though you're hurting, you will heal and love again when you are ready. Your path is leading you to forgiveness and acceptance of that which you can no longer change. It will lead you to detachment and renewal in matters of the heart. The card n°18 from the Below the surface deck is associated with the broadclub cuttlefish. It states : rapid changes, let your flexibility serve you. The following card is the n° 12 represening the ambon damselfish. It states : don't be afraid of your voice, your opinion matters. These two cards suggest that this state of mourning won't last too long. You will quickly be presentend with new romantic opportunities or new projects and spirits are reassuring you. You will be able to move on and start anew. When these opportunity rise, don't be afraid to step in the light and let yourself be seen. The cuttlefish and the damselfish are both very unique and bright. They live in deep waters and can adapt pretty well to their environment. Like these two species, you are resilient and can make your way back to the top pretty quickly. Your other cards tell me that any limiting belief regarding love and relationships will be purged, as you have the destruction card followed by the versatility card. It was important that you do through this experience as it was meant to bring to light the toxicity and limits of your reality. Destruction is associated with fire whereas versatility is related to air. The versatility card reminds you that timing is very important and that forcing a situation to be when the timing is not right will only hinder your growth. It asks you how you can shift what is already existing in order to progress or to consider moving on when no solution can be found. Your path will lead you to a spiritual "spring cleaning". You will be going through your life, your possessions and relationships and ask yourself whether you truly need them now. You will be reassessing the value of your environment, your beliefs, your routines. Your approach to dating and entertaining relationships will be complitely different afterwards.

Ultimately, your path leads you to a new offer. An opportunity to be the main role in your life instead of a spectator. The knight of pentacles and The Emperor bring a message of patience and faith. You have to trust that at the right time and in the right place, what is meant for you will find you and you will be able to recognize it. They also invite you to be clear on your intentions. Especially if you consider dating again. Make sure you are clear on what you expect from a relationship, what you appreciate or what triggers you. Be mindful though of the power you exert over your life. Allow yourself to receive but do not shy away from your responsibilities. Your next partner may be a little bit controlling but also guarded. They need to take things slow and can be quite stubborn. But they will also teach you how to ground yourself and be in the present moment, not to burn any steps and feel things through to ensure you are on the right track. The signs of Aries and Taurus could be significant.

#pick a card #spiritual guidance #pac reading #tarot

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