#five seconds of summer preference

[aelenavelaryon]

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen Reader

Summary: Daemon finally finds love

Aella Targaryen was nothing like the rest of her family. She couldn't be. Many would often said she was a sweet girl whose only mistake was to have Valyrian blood cursing through her veins. House Targaryen had been on the Iron Throne for over a hundred years, she could remember the throne, it was rather beautiful she would admit. But, House Targaryen was a cursed lineage. Aella thought it was because they were all related. Brothers married sisters, uncles married nieces, cousins married cousins.

When Aella was brought to court she was nothing but a babe. Only one perhaps two moons old. Daughter of Saera Targaryen and her brother Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar and Saera had both been wild and untamable. The two ran away after Saera escaped Old Town and they were never seen again until now. Aella Targaryen was born in the year 105. Rhaegar brought his daughter to court, to present among the realm. Saera had died in her birthing chamber. Viserys, who had lost his wife a nearly two years prior welcomed them both. Aella grew up beside Alicent’s children and Rhaenyra's children.

Aella although growing up with her cousins she preferred to be alone, sitting in the gardens or her room and reading a history book. Her father wondered where she had gotten all of that, she was not like her mother or him. But, there were things he did like singing, poems and song writing much like his daughter. Aella had the basic training, in case she had to protect herself but the young girl no matter the circumstances could never and would never bring herself to hurt anyone. It wasn't in her blood no matter how much her father tried. But Rhaegar would protect his daughter no matter the cost. She rode Meraxes, queen Rhaenys dragon, the princess died that day but her dragon lived.

As the years passed, Aella Targaryen grew into a beautiful maiden. "The Realm's Angel" or "The Realm's Desire" surpassing her cousin Rhaenyra in beauty and everything else. Aella had reached her ten and five name day and was yet to be unmarried. Her father was the reason for that, although he was no king he saw that no one was fit to marry his only child. No one would ever be good enough. Alicent thought it would be a good idea to marry her to Aegon or Aemond if she wished. Rhaenyra thought she would be a great match for Jacaerys or Lucerys. Rhaegar Targaryen refused, once again. But, a few moons later he passed from a swollen belly, leaving his only child at the mercy of her family.

Aella didn't know who to choose as her family had given her the choice to marry who she wanted between the four boys. She was dutiful, whoever her uncle had chosen she would have married but she did not want to disappoint anyone by choosing wrong. The council knew that Aella marrying either of her nephews was a tragedy waiting to happen, so the young girl offered a marriage between another house but Rhaenyra, Alicent and the king denied her. Daemon who had recently lost his wife asked her to marry him, to unite themselves and protect each other. Aella was young, only fifteen summers old what did she know about love. She knew more about duty than love.

So, to stop any family issues or more drama she agreed and secretly married Daemon, consummating their marriage, now it could not be broken. The news reached King's Landing the morning after, creating chaos in the court. The king was fragile in health so he did nothing, besides they were married and they had consummated there was no breaking anything. Rhaenyra stayed in King's Landing, while Daemon, his wife and two daughters remained in Dragonstone. Nearly a year after their wedding Baelon Targaryen and Rhaegar Targaryen were born. Strong boys. On their second named day, their sisters Rhaella and Visenya had been born. When the boys were five, their sisters three Aemma and Viserys were born.

Baela and Rhaena quickly accepted Aella as she had this motherly warmth the girls loved and she had glady taken the role as their mother, not that she would try to replace the girls mother but she did her best to love and care for them as she did for her own children. Aella with Daemon's approval let the girls ride their dragons to Driftmark to visit their grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys were grateful that the young girl allowed them to visit their mother's family as much and as often as they could. The six children had been kept a secret through out the years. Aella was near her one and twenty name day. As a result, the king had invited her and her family to celebrate as a family.

Her arrival had been expected, Aegon was now married to Helaena and had two children, twins. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aemond was unmarried but as far as she knew he was bethroted to a Baratheon girl. Jacaerys was to marry soon but his mother and father were looking for a suitable match. When she arrived, Daemon and the girls were waiting as her and the children had sailed there due to the young kids. Rhaenys and Corlys who were there watched their granddaughters run to their new mother. They saw the love the two girls had for her. King Viserys recovered and went back to being the peaceful king he was. He waited with his family as he watched Daemon help his wife.

She had turned into a beautiful woman, everyone could agree. She seemed happy with Daemon. And she was, he treated her good and with respect. "My king, my queen" she  greeted with a nod. "Princess Rhaenyra, Laenor" she said with a smile. She greeted everyone. "Now, may we present our children?" she asked and everyone turned to her. They were surprised. The king nodded and Daemon signaled the maids to bring them. "Baelon and Rhaegar, our oldest. Visenya and Rhaella out second oldest. Viserys and Aemma our youngest" Daemon introduced as the four oldest made their bows to the king and queen. The youngest were only one.

"May I?" the king asked as he took Aemma, she had her eyes. Rhaenys took Viserys. "Baelon looks like our father, and Rhaegar looks like Aemon" Rhaenys nodded in agreement. Everyone cooed over the Aella'a children and all she did was smile. During the feast for her nameday, Daemon and his wife could see the tension between Alicent and Rhaenyra. "I would like to propose an alliance between our families" Aella began. She had spoken with Corlys and Rhaenys, and of course her husband. "A bethrotal between Jacaerys and Baela. And Rhaena with prince Lucerys" she said with a smile. Rhaenyra smiled. "I think that is a great idea" Daemon held her hand and nodded. "In addition, if Aegon and Helaena agree Jaehaera could marry Baelon and Vinseya Jaehaerys" the table was quiet but Alicent smiled. "I think that is magnificent idea" the king nodded in agreement. "Our house will be united" she smiled happy with the outcome.

Aella Targaryen was a woman many remembered, she had given her family peace but that peace nearly broke when Otto Hightower deemed her dangerous, sending for someone to kill the princess. The princess perished on top of her dragon as a scorpion hit the beast right in the neck, killing it instantly. She received the same fate as queen Rhaenys. The lady didn't survive the fall. Daemon Targaryen never remarried but once he found out who killed her, the Hightowers, more importantly Otto, he was killed soon after. Alicent was pardoned as she didn't know anything. Rhaenyra was crown queen and the princess match's were honored as Baela married Jacaerys, Rhaena Lucerys, and once older Baelon and Visenya married Aegon's children.

The Sweet Summer Child died but her memory remained throughout the years. Aella Targaryen iii married her brother Rhaegar, giving him the heirs he needed. House Targaryen didn't end with Daenerys Targaryen, it went on. It prospered. From Aella Targaryen the first, came the prince that was promised and the realm lived in peace.

#daemon targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #harwin strong x reader #alicent hightower x reader #daemon targaryen #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #rhaegar targaryen

[wlntrsldler]

how to disappear | luke castellan

warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)

part 2: shades of cool

pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke

description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey

i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.

"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."

"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."

he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."

"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."

he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.

luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."

you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"

"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."

"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."

"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."

"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"

luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."

you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.

at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.

this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.

"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"

"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."

"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"

"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."

"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."

"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."

luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.

you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."

"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."

"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.

"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."

"does she?"

"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."

"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."

"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."

luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."

you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.

"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."

he squeezed your hand, "yeah."

ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.

"castellan."

luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.

he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."

"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."

"castellan."

he cringed, "sorry."

"what happened?"

"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."

you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."

"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.

"how bad are they?"

"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."

"why didn't you come find me?"

"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."

"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."

"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."

you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."

luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."

you cocked your head, "huh?"

"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."

you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."

"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.

"what?"

"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."

it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.

you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.

in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.

you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.

luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.

luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.

it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.

but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.

"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."

sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.

you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.

iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.

luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.

percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.

he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.

luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.

it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.

luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.

as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.

you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.

he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.

"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."

luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.

"what are you doing here?"

"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."

"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.

"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"

"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."

"do you trust him?"

luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?

luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."

"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."

"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."

"it's just me, luke."

he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.

this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.

"'m sorry, angel."

"you're acting different, luke."

"'m sorry."

"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."

luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"

"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.

"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."

"you don't have to be mean about it."

he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."

you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"

"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"

"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."

he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.

"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"

"i know."

"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."

"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."

"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.

luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."

selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.

an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.

"i love you, you know that, right?"

luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.

iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.

"i love you."

you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.

you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.

"what are you doing here, castellan?"

it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.

"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."

"why did you do it?"

"i don't know."

"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"

"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."

"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."

luke was silent.

"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."

he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.

you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.

#luke castellan #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo fanfic #pjo spoilers #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #frances song fics #frances writes #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: "i am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten...a young handmaid for my second son, aemond."

warnings: nothing.

notes: an anon requested their first meeting, so here it is.

his handmaid's tales I main masterlist

It began with the Queen.  

“How may I serve your Grace.”

“I am looking for a maid, preferably one of eight-and-ten,” Queen Alicent had told the septa in private. It was gloomy outside, with dark clouds blanketing the sky. She had just finished lighting four candles. “A young handmaid for my second son, Aemond. He is the only of my children not to have one. I’d like for her to be sweet and devoted and quick on her feet, a girl who will swear her undying loyalty and service unto him and his needs.”

His twentieth nameday was fast approaching, set within the next fortnight. She felt this would be a fine gift for him.

The septa took a moment to think. “Does her breeding matter?” she asked. “I know of a girl- she is exactly what you desire, but she is a bastard, born to one of the serving wenches at Harrenhal.”

The queen’s nose wrinkled. “A riverlands bastard?”

“She is said to be Lord Lyonel’s granddaughter, my queen.”

“So a Strong bastard….” Alicent rubbed at her temple, “I suppose…if she is what I ask for, and that you can assure she’ll remain loyal to him.” She then sighed, shaking her head. “Though, do keep it away from my son, septa. He carries such little love for House Strong. I do not wish for him to turn his ire onto her if he ever found out.  

The septa frowned. “Do you genuinely believe the prince would dare harm an innocent girl, your Grace?”

Alicent tugged at her gown's flowing sleeve, sniffing. “That is why I ask for you to keep her heritage a secret.”   

Two weeks later, you stood in Prince Aemond’s bedchamber as his new handmaid. The septa was at your elbow, mumbling a flood of demands into your ear. “Stand straighter, child, for the sake of the gods. But keep your head bowed, gaze locked on your feet. You mustn’t ever behold the prince unless he allows it.” You ran a hand down your arm, feeling the skin prickled with goosebumps, before lacing your trembling fingers together.

To your right was the Queen, dressed in a pretty gown as green as summer. She said very little to you, if not nothing.

“Ah, Aemond! My dear boy, please join us,” she greeted quite happily when her son arrived at the doors of his room. You kept your eyes down, counting each loud footstep of his that loomed closer with every second.

“Who is this?”

Queen Alicent cleared her throat. “Your new handmaid, son.”

Prince Aemond remained silent. You could feel his gaze. One. Two. Three…four, five, six…. You swallowed, counting each heartbeat that quickened inside your chest as you willed yourself to stay still and brave. Do not tremble. It would be an embarrassment, no doubt. You felt your nails digging into your palms. Fear cuts much deeper than any sword.

“I was…unaware I needed a handmaid, dear mother,” he finally said.

“Aegon and Helaena have theirs, and Daeron’s been by his side in Oldtown since he was a young boy. It is unlike a prince not to have his own handmaid. She will do you well.”  

“Do me well?”

“Yes!”

The septa pinched the skin of your arm, causing you to flinch before lifting your face to meet his eye from across the room. The prince...he was handsome, terribly so, you thought. Tall and silver-haired, dashing and imposing, with a deep violet eye. “I was brought here to serve you,” you told him, “-to do anything and everything my prince commands.” Prince Aemond skimmed you up and down, an eyebrow rising. “Anything? Such as…?”

You glanced at the septa, unsure of what to say next. “Um, well, my prince, I shall fix your baths and sew any ripped shirts if you’d like? I might also fetch you your wine if desired-”

“She’ll do whatever you ask of her, my prince,” the septa interjected. Queen Alicent smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Does that not please you, son?” She then leaned to mutter something close to his ear, and he stiffened, aiming his cool stare at you, before relaxing.

“Alright. You are suffice,” he decided before turning to his mother, his face softening. “Thank you, mother.”

Queen Alicent leaned to kiss his cheek before pushing past him out into the hall. The septa soon followed her, leaving you and Prince Aemond alone in the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. The prince stole another look at you. “What might I call you?”

You gave him your name, dropping low into a pretty curtesy. Every time you bow, your neck is at the mercy of the royals. “A beautiful name,” he said. His voice sounded throaty. He was clothed in black leather, from his shoulders to his ankles, and the cloak he wore around his shoulders. At his waist hung a longsword. “Thank you, my prince. It was my mother’s choosing.”

The raven had arrived at Harrenhal at midday, a flurry of black wings that carried a letter demanding your sudden attendance at the Red Keep at the request of the queen herself. Your mother was reluctant to send you off at first but eventually did so with five sweet kisses and a bright yellow mullein flower that she slipped into the pocket of her old green cloak.

Prince Aemond hummed. “Well, if you’d like, I have two shirts that are in need of sewing. Ser Cole knicked them with his own sword during my training four mornings back.” He gestured to his closet, nicely carved from weirwood, pale as a bone. The look of it reminded you of your mother and the gods you left behind at home.

You nodded, bowing. “As my prince commands,” and you moved towards the closet to fetch his shirts, although you would likely need to venture out to find a needle and…

A hand touched your arm.

You spun to meet him. “Do you need something else, my prince?” Prince Aemond stood so close you could see the long pale scar peeking from behind his eyepatch, his dark eyelashes, and his jutting chin and high cheekbones. He was far more beautiful up close. You felt butterflies in your belly, stirring up a strange fluttering feeling; it crept up your spine to your throat.

“Do you fear me?”

You bit your lip. “No.”

He hummed again, eye flickering across your face. You do not believe me, don't you. You felt it glide over your browbone, to the slope of your nose, and pausing at your lips. “Fix my shirts, then. I have needles and thread in my closet as well. You do not leave the room unless I dismiss you.”

“She is yours. Your handmaid. Everything she does next is at your own will and mercy,” his mother whispered to him. “But do treat her well, Aemond. It is through kindheartedness that you receive devotion.”

tag list: @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #handmaid!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

[marthawrites]

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

-

I.

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog. 

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight! 

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there. 

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 

Aemond. 

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

V.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond imagine #request

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

It took me like five minutes to remember to make this request because I INSTANTLY forgot once I thought about it o-o Can u plz write a scenario where the reader gets too hot and ends up fainting in front of the Beasts? Un-corrupted preferred, and have fun with the hurt comfortable uwu ty in advance!

Fun fact, I actually have a problem like this. My body struggles to cool down, so usually, I have to take a lot of breaks during the summer.

It takes them all several seconds to register that you didn't fall asleep. No, you passed out. When they do realize, absolute pandemonium breaks out. They forgot you're not like them! They don't need to worry about regulating their body heat or temperature in general.

Burning Spice Cookie gives you lots of space since his body emits a lot of heat. Eternal Sugar Cookie is scooping you onto her cloud, and Mystic Flour Cookie is frantically fanning some gentle wind at you. Silent Salt Cookie manages to reign everyone in to get you under some shade, and Shadow Milk Cookie is declaring he's going to eliminate the fucking sun.

#crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #eternal sugar cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #mystic flour cookie x reader #silent salt cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #cosmos constellations

[craisinsensation1029]

Seated

Suguru Geto

i love geto thats it

fem reader, established relationship, semi public sex ig???, cockwarming<33

~900 words

MDNI

Geto loves it when you sit in his lap.

No matter the time, no matter the season, there’s no practical use for a chair when Geto is in your presence.

In the height of summer? Of course he watches as your little sundress or mini skirt rides up as the back of your thighs nestle onto the top of his own.

In the dead of winter? Even in your big, puffy jacket and legs clad in sweatpants, he’s still urging your ass to take refuge on his crotch. 

At a party? Where else would you be sitting but in his lap, his arms snaking around your midsection, his broad chest pressing against your back. Don’t let musical chairs be played at this party, he’ll drag your ass down into his seat with him whether or not it costs him the game.

He’s always so shameless, shifting just so you can feel his cock hardening beneath your ass, thrusting his hips up so subtly it cuts you off as you speak. When you’d whip your head around he would just have an innocent smile on his face, arms curling around you tighter and ask, “Everything alright?”

And don’t even get started on when you guys go to the movies. Very early on you noticed he had a particular preference, two actually.

First, he only liked going a few weeks after the hype died down and second, he always liked to sit in the back row.

Today is no different as you walk hand in hand into the nearly empty theater. A few people are sitting in the front rows, but you and Geto make your way towards your seats in the back.

“C’mon,” Geto urges quietly with a hand on your thigh as darkness begins to shroud the theater. “Sit with me.”

“Suguru…” you murmur back. It already looks like it’s going to be another thirty dollars of movie tickets down the drain. “When we get home.”

“Just for a little.” Even in the darkness you can tell that he has that pout on his face, the one that makes your knees buckle and give into anything he pleases. “Please?”

So you stand, shifting from your seat to his, wriggling down and getting comfortable. It’s such a perfect fit, his muscular thighs cradling the plushness of your ass and thighs.

Not even five minutes into the movie you start to feel his cock thickening beneath you, throbbing against your ass as his hands lazily drum against the top of your thighs. 

Focusing on the movie might as well be rocket science, the only sensory organ of yours seeming to be in working order is touch, body buzzing with arousal and his hands start to inch up higher and higher. His hands are now kneading the upper portion of your thighs having found their way beneath your skirt, thumbs dangerously close to your heat, cock still pulsing beneath your ass. 

“Suguru.” It’s hard to discern what you’re asking for. A plea for more? A request for him to stop? No, you never want him to stop.

“Hm?” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, making you writhe slightly in his lap. “Oh, stay still, baby. Won’t be able to watch the movie if you’re going to move around like that.”

With the way one of his thumbs is now ghosting over your clit that's throbbing in your panties and his hips lazily moving upward, you’re pretty sure he isn’t watching this damn movie. But you entertain him, looking straight ahead though you might as well be staring at static on a television.

The ghosting over your bud turns into a firm press as he registers your thighs pressing tightly together, chuckling when a soft moan escapes your lips. “Gotta stay quiet,” he teases. “Don’t think anyone else will be able to enjoy the movie if you’re too loud.”

Another choked moan breaks free from your lips as his thumb starts to rub circles around your clit, two fingers nudging aside the crotch of your underwear as he feels the slickness starting to make a mess between your legs. 

“S-Sugu.”

He only groans, cock steadily pulsing against your ass as he continues to apply pressure against your clit, just letting his fingers collect your arousal. He doesn’t make a motion to soothe your now quivering hole, just enjoying the weight and warmth against his crotch as you let your body rest against his chest.

“You know,” he begins, silky voice right in your ear. “There’s an even better way you can sit with me.”

There’s not a moment to respond before the pressure against your clit is gone. A soft whine breaks free from your lips but then you feel it, a hot and heavy thickness against your back. “What do you say?”

He’s crazy, but what does that make you for agreeing? Insane, probably.

He holds his cock steady as your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, holding back a guttural moan as your heat begins to envelop him inch by inch.“Shit,” he hisses once your ass meets his skin, your cunt instantly clenching around his length. “You got the best seat in the house baby, just sit back and relax.”

#getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ebs writes

[f1bordeaux]

An Verstappen one with “Did you ever really care about me?” and “Please stay.” Thank you

If You Cared (Part 1) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.1k Poetry style | Story style A/n: Hello! This story came to me as soon as I saw this request. I got so many ideas and I'm actually super excited to keep writing this. There will be more parts to follow, so keep a look out. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

You always longed for the familiarity of summer.

It was by far your favorite season. Something about the warmth, the life, the atmosphere, the memories-something about it all brought you comfort. You were head over heels in love with summer. Or perhaps it was just more exciting this year knowing that you would go on a real vacation for the first time in a long while. “Let’s visit the beach house this year,” your mom had suggested. “Sure there is probably some dust in the corners, but it’s nothing we can't sweep off.”

When thinking of summer memories, the beach house in Elba, Italy, was the primary setting for all of them. From the time you were born until the time you moved out, your family would spend a handful of weeks there, drinking up the sun and inviting friends to visit. You learnt to swim in the pool behind the summer house. You learnt to cook in the kitchen of the summer house. You had your first kiss in the living room of the summer house. Right, that. Something you preferred not to think or talk about.

“Mom!” you wrapped her in a hug the second you could. After moving away from home to pursue work, you rarely saw her in person. You rarely had time to cook yourself dinner let alone come home. It would be nice to get away for a month-just you, your mom, your dad, your brother and sister and the Italian shores of Elba.

“How was your flight, my baby?” She asked, pulling your backpack from off your shoulders.

“Which one? The one from New York to Florence or the one from Florence to Elba?” As a child you always made a fuss about how secluded Elba was. It’s a small, mountainous island off the west coast. A small airport, no larger than the biggest grocery store in town, was all they had to offer. They didn’t take commercial flights from New York. Nope, you had to get on a small, ten person airplane with five other people and fly over that way. It was nostalgic, truly.

Your mom rolled her eyes. “Still dramatic as ever.”

You shrugged, a smile stamped on your face. “What can I say?”

“Let's go, your dad is at home making dinner. It should be ready when we arrive.”

Your heart felt so full, so satisfied. You felt like a child again, like a little girl viewing the world from innocent eyes. Your mom was carrying your backpack, your dad was making dinner. You wondered if they’d offer to tuck you in at night. This is what you needed the most, and you didn’t even realize it until you were in the passenger seat of your mom’s rental car, watching the coast of the island roll by in the dimming sun. New York was busy. It was loud and dirty. Elba was quiet. It was beautiful and clean.

This summer, you told yourself. I’m not going to have a single worry, not a single care in the world.

“The Verstappen’s are coming by next week.”

You almost choked on your food. “What did he just say?” Dinner on the patio was already off to a ravishing start.

You don't notice it-too busy dabbing the corner of your mouth with a napkin-but your mother swatted at your brother who held a smirk on his lips. He knew it would bother you and he also knew that mom hadn’t told you yet. He loved being the bearer of bad news. He loved pestering his older sister.

“You know, Max’s family?” He pushed on. “The boy who left you for cars-”

“Luca.” Your mom cut him off. “Enough.”

Silence hung over the table like it was a light fixture. Your dad and sister said nothing and you knew it was because those two were in favor of the Verstappen’s coming to stay. Hell, your dad was probably the one to extend the invitation. You knew your sister would back him up because she loved Victoria-the younger sibling of the two Verstappen children. Your brother obviously didn’t care. He idolized Max and his racing. It seemed like your mother was the only one on your side.

“Was nobody going to tell me until Max knocked on our front door one day?” You asked, cutting at the food on your plate.

“Max probably won't even be able to make it,” your mother tries to reassure you. “The only ones who have confirmed it are Sophie and Victoria. Ooh-Victoria is bringing the babies so that should be fun-”

“Are you just trying to calm me down, mom?” Again, the silence made itself known. You spoke first, shaking your head with an upside down smile. “You know what? I don’t care. Max or not, I’m here to have a good summer. No childhood crush or-”

“Childhood boyfriend who broke your heart.” Your brother corrected you. You kicked him from under the table, exerting an ouch from him.

“No childhood drama is going to interfere.” You finished.

“She's gone crazy.” Your sister whispered to your dad. You kicked her too.

“I’m going to have a good summer. Nobody will ruin that for me.”

And in the beginning, you did have a good summer. You spent your first full day in Elba catching up on jet lag. When you finally decided to roll out of bed at two pm, you went to the beach with your sister. The two of you had a chance to catch up, sitting on the sand with a small array of fruits to eat while you spoke. The weather was perfect, the ocean was calming, and you were reminded of how much you loved your younger sister.

“What did you do for the big twenty-two?” You asked, referencing her birthday that had preceded about three weeks prior.

She shook her hand, the grapes in her palm shifting. She picked out a bruised one, adding it to a small pile of other undesirable fruits. “Went out with some friends. I had an exam due that day though, so most of it was spent in my room working on that.”

College. Something you tried your hardest to avoid. All was futile, though. After only a few weeks in New York you realized you’d need it. “Sounds fun. Were you mad you had to leave all your friends for the summer?”

“No,” She popped a grape in her mouth. “I was excited to come back to the beach house.”

“Me too.”

“Can I start a conversation without you getting mad at me, y/n?”

You sighed. “If you start by saying that, then no.”

“How are you going to react if Max really does show up on Monday?”

It was your turn to search through the handful of strawberries you had. One strawberry had a large hole. The rest looked fine, you thought. Max. Right, that's where the conversation was. Max Verstappen. Your first crush, your first kiss, your first-boyfriend? Was it ever that? Really, you didn’t know what it was and what it wasn’t. He was Max, and you were y/n. That was all the facts you knew surrounding the two of you.

“I’ll be nice. I have no reason not to be.” You finally responded.

Your sister peeled her sunglasses off her face. She looked at you amusingly through her brow. “No reason? Really?”

A shrug lifted your shoulders. “What? Max and I were never dating.”

“Sixteen-year-old you would say otherwise.”

“Sixteen year old me was delusional.” You looked at the ocean in front of you. You were just a delusional child, right? Max was your first kiss. Max was your biggest crush. Max did break your heart. It’s pretty damn hard to break someone's heart when you’re not together, no? “I don’t care about Max anymore. If he comes, he comes. If he doesn’t? Then so be it. I really don't care, Mia.”

“Alright,” She said dismissively. “I guess we’ll find out.”

The two of you wouldn’t find out for another five days. During your time-waiting for the possible arrival of Max and his mom and sister-you explored the city, you occupied the beaches, you read some books, you went out on the boat with your brother and dad. Life was calm. There were no obligations you had to fill, no tasks at hand, no work to be done. It was you, the Italian sun, the ocean and the breeze. You seriously considered moving there. Mom would let you have the beach house, right? How could she say no to the oldest?

All was good. All was calm.

“Max is here, y/n!” Luca swung open the patio door, yelling at you with a smirk. You were lying on a lounge chair next to your sister-the both of you only wearing swimsuits as you tried to tan. “He’s a fine specimen.”

You picked up your hat from the ground and threw it at your teenage brother. “Fuck off, Luca.”

“I’m serious! Max, Victoria and Sophie are here.”

You looked over at your sister. “Go inspect.” You instructed her.

She groaned, standing up from her chair and wandering inside, not before slapping Luca on the back of the head, however. The two of them shut the door, a waft of cold air swiping across your body before disappearing. There was soft music playing from a speaker near the pool. If a car pulled up, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Maybe they were here, but was Max seriously with them? Did you want him here? Would it actually be easier without him here or did you want some fun this summer? Did drama entertain you? Maybe you just wanted something nice to look at while you were here.

The back door slid open. You were lying face down, the sun warming your back. You didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was Mia coming to deliver the news to you. It would be better if she didn’t see your face while telling you. Maybe you would be disappointed at the answer-whatever it may be. “Well? Is he here?” You asked, voice muffled by the lounge chair.

“Is this your hat?”

You looked up so quickly that you pulled a muscle in your neck. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, rubbing your fingers over the pain. Did you curse to yourself because Max was standing right infront of you, your ball cap balancing off his index finger, or because of the pain? Both, you decided. It was for both reasons.

“I’ll leave it,” He set it on the table next to you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You readjusted yourself, sitting up on the edge of the chair. He definitely got a much better view of you than he was hoping for. You were older now, almost by ten years. Sixteen year old you and twenty five year old you looked a lot different. He figured that out pretty quick.

“Good to see you, y/n.” He smiled before turning on his heel to go back inside. His back was broad, his shoulders looked stiff. He had some stubble, but it suited him. He looked-good? No. Stop thinking like that. He probably had a girlfriend or something. He was a rich, famous, Formula One driver. No way he was single walking around looking like that.

“Right.” Nobody was around to hear you say it. So, nobody was around to hear you follow it up with, “What the fuck.”

Hesitantly, you picked up your ball cap, slipping your ponytail through the back. You walked inside, scanning the room before making any more steps forward. Mia and Victoria were in the living room. Sure enough, Victoria had brought her two children and husband. Mia was emitting plenty of ‘aww’s’ and ‘that is so cute’s’. Max was bringing luggage in through the front door. Great, they're planning on staying. Your brother shot you a smirk from where he sat at the kitchen bar. Told ya’ so.

“Max, how’d you manage time off from F1?” Your mother asked.

“It’s summer break,” He said matter-of-factly. “I don’t race again until late August.”

“So you’ll be here for the three weeks you mother and sister will be?”

Please say no, please say no, please say- “I plan to, yes.”

The sliding door snaps behind you as you let go of it. Everyone turns to look at your bikini clad figure. Victoria exchanges a concerning glance with your sister. Victoria’s husband looks at her, confused as to why there is such a thick tension in the air.

“Y/n, go shower and get dressed, we’re all going to dinner in a bit.” Your mother said, her lips pressing into a thin smile.

“Right.” You said, weaving past all the bodies. “I’ll go do that.”

Oh what a summer this was playing out to be.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 requests #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #verstappen #mv1 #verstappen fanfic #verstappen ff #f1 x reader #verstappen x reader #mv1 x reader #Max Verstappen x reader #f1 series #f1 smut #Verstappen smut #max verstappen smut

[ginovasims]

THE SEASONS LEGACY

A mini legacy challenge that focuses on the four seasons. Each generation will have a different set of goals and requirements before the new heir takes over.

Rules:

Pick any three of the five traits offered for each generation, and one of the two aspirations. For an extra challenge, you can try and complete both aspirations.

This challenge contains a lot of gameplay from a variety of expansion, game, and stuff packs. Feel free to skip or adjust any rules if you are missing content.

If you do this challenge, please credit me (@ginovasims).

Vague guidelines/suggestions:

The heir can be any gender, they don’t have to be female. They can also be any sexuality. 

Children don’t have to be genetic, they can be adopted, and you can have science babies.

Mods and custom content can be used.

Use the hashtag #SeasonsLegacy on tweets, posts, and videos. Check out my video where I introduce the challenge in more detail: https://youtu.be/j0R4fVdiLfI

——————————————————————————————————

THE GENERATIONS

Generation 1 - Spring

Spring is the season for new life and new beginnings, so what better time to start a new family legacy?!

You make the most of the weather warming and enjoy spending time outside with animals. Fresh is best and you won’t settle for anything that’s not the best quality, in all aspects of life. Your true love is out there and you won’t stop looking until you find your perfect soulmate. 

Requirements:

Date around before finding your soulmate and settling down

Meet your soulmate at a park

Always keep your home in pristine condition

Raise chickens and/or a cow/llama

Befriend a rabbit and/or a flock of birds

Buy groceries from market stalls in Henford-on-Bagley

Win a competition at Finchwick Fair

Frequently have picnics in the park

Discover Sylvan Glade and/or Forgotten Hollow

Gain the hungry for love lifestyle 

Always have the simple living lot challenge

Celebrate Spring Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the insect and/or decorative eggs collection

Reach the top level of any outdoor based career (e.g. gardener, conservationist, lifeguard etc.)

Master two of the three skills: fishing, herbalism and flower arranging

Complete either the Country Caretaker or the Serial Romantic aspiration

Colours: Pink and Green Traits: Neat, Romantic, Cheerful, Perfectionist, High Maintenance Aspirations: Country Caretaker or Serial Romantic

Generation 2 - Summer

Did someone say beach party?!

Growing up, you spent a lot of time outdoors with your family, and you loved every second of it. You’re both laid-back and the life of the party. The sea calls your name and you always make the absolute most of your summertime memories.

Requirements:

Throw weekly parties (at the beach if it’s good weather!)

Frequently have BBQs in the garden

Frequently go bowling with friends/family

Have a sun tan as often as you can 

Go camping at least twice as a young adult

Have a pool in your garden

Have swimming as a hobby

Meet your lover at the beach

Build sandcastles with your children

Gain the people person lifestyle 

Always have the volcanic activity lot challenge

Celebrate Summer Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities 

Complete the seashell and/or message in a bottle collection 

Reach the top level of any active career (e.g. actor, doctor, police etc.)

Master two of the three skills: dancing, mixology and bowling

Complete either the Beach Life or Party Animal aspiration

Colours: Yellow and Red Traits: Dance Machine, Party Animal, Loves the Outdoors, Child of the Ocean, Outgoing Aspirations: Beach Life or Party Animal

Generation 3 - Autumn/Fall

The spooky season is among us…

You’re more of a homebody than your parents and grandparents and prefer to spend time tucked up at home, reading a book by a warm fire. You’ve always been interested in the supernatural, believing them to be fictional your whole life, until discovering one day that there’s more out there than you could ever have imagined.

Requirements:

Turn into any occult 

Marry a different type of occult

Always own a black cat and encourage them to have kittens (with success) at least twice

Earn a distinguished degree

Join a university club/team

Throw a costume party every other week

Light fireworks at bonfire nights

Have a family club gathering at least once a week

Write children books and read them to your own children 

Gain the indoorsy lifestyle

Always have the spooky lot challenge

Celebrate Autumn/Fall Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the space prints and/or postcards collection

Reach the top of any mental/academic career (e.g. education, secret agent, scientist etc.)

Master two of the three skills: medium, vampire lore and research & debate

Complete either the Spellcaster & Sorcery or Bestselling Author aspiration

Colours: Orange and Purple Traits: Bookworm, Insider, Overachiever, Creative, Cat Lover Aspirations: Spellcaster & Sorcery or Bestselling Author

Generation Four - Winter

Life is like your own winter wonderland! 

You grew up with your whole extended family around you and so this has become a very important part of how you are. Your family are everything and you want to treasure every moment and memory. Food is another big part of your life, and you relish in spending time in the kitchen with your loved ones.

Requirements:

Have a blended family (e.g. step children, adopted, etc.) 

Bake with your partner/children every weekend

Always gift your household members a present for the holidays

Play outside whenever it’s snowy - build snowpals, make snow angels, have snowball fights etc.

Go ice skating on every first date

Always have a caged pet for your family

Have perfect relationships with all of your children - spoil them!

Decorate your house with family pictures

Gain the junk food fiend lifestyle 

Always have the gremlins lot challenge

Celebrate Winter Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the snow globe and/or simmies collection

Reach the top of any stay at home career (either freelance or always choose work from home option)

Master two of the three skills: knitting, baking and photography

Complete either the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer or Big Happy Family aspiration

Colours: Blue and White Traits: Gloomy, Family-Oriented, Foodie, Materialistic, Childish Aspirations: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer or Big Happy Family

#sims4 #ts4 #thesims4 #youtube #sims youtube #thesims #ginovasims #the sims4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 legacy #the sims #sims 4 story #sims challenge #sims 4 cas #the sims challenge #sims legacy #the sims legacy #seasons #sims 4 season #sims 4 seasons #seasonslegacy

[hellishattempt]

𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 - false positive

cr 101strk on twitter, src from pin

🢥 summary : celebrity!au jjk men and rumours swirling around your established relationship, wc 2.4k 🢥 series includes : choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru, gojo satoru and nanami kento, part two of five 🢥 content : celebrity!au, female reader, mostly angst, some fluff, married, body dysphoria, pregnancy, photoshopping / body editing, miscarriage, sickness, blood, fake newspaper used, paps being an ass, lying, use of pet names, suggestive content if you squint so hard your eyes are almost closed, i hate winter so this is set in like summer, jasper simping for nanami the entire time, the ending is what it is, not proofread we die like robins /ref

. . . BEING MARRIED TO AN AUTHOR has its perks, especially when you're a reader yourself. you always got to read the first drafts, and the second, and the final drafts before anyone else, including your husband's editors. nanami claimed that if it wasn't good enough for his wife, then it wasn't good enough to be published. you always thought that was a bit extreme, but you loved his writings either way. however, sometimes it was hard to find the time to read the latest chapter he sent you, because your job drained you. you were an influencer, and had currently signed a promotional deal with koh gen do, a popular japanese makeup brand. recently, you were barely home, busy with photoshoots and videos for koh gen do, on top of the content you had to make yourself.

neither of you really liked the limelight, nanami especially. you were young and naive when you joined social media, rising quickly to popularity. it was something you enjoyed, and you still do enjoy it, but it felt more like a tiring obligation than an aspiring career. you blame the paparazzi, nanami blames societal expectations, although he's not the paparazzi's biggest fan either. throughout your dating, and going on six year marriage, you and nanami have had your fair share of scandals. this one had to take the cake, however.

you were out, doing one of the last rounds of photoshoots for your endorsement deal. nanami was home, trying to churn out the latest chapter on his to-do list. he wasn't very successful. the mostly blank document had two words on it: CHAPTER THIRTY in the fancy font you had selected to be chapter headers. any attempt to write after that failed. every paragraph had been written, rewritten and deleted. so the buzz of his phone was a welcomed distraction.

it was an article post from red sun times, a relatively newer newspaper company in japan. nanami preferred them because they were quieter, at least compared to japan newsline or tokyoto sistership news. but the article title cause a deep frown to wrinkle nanami's sculpted face.

. . . "IS NANAMI KENTO'S WIFE PREGNANT?" was in big bold print on your phone screen. you didn't see it right away, but your makeup artist did. she got your hairstylist's attention, who read it just before your phone shut off. they both began to pepper you with compliments.

"congratulations, nanami okaa-san!" aki, your makeup artist beamed. your eyes widened at the term. 'okaa-san' literally translated to 'mother' of which, you were not. she should've used 'oka-san', which meant wife literally, and ma'am respectfully. "you look so skinny, i couldn't even tell!"

"yes, congratulations! how did nanami-san respond?" your hairstylist added, smile wide on his face. "better yet, how did your families react? oh, i bet they were overjoyed."

you sat there confused, racking your brain over what the two were referring to. "wh-what? what are you talking about?"

they stared at you with blank faces, their excitement slowly fading into a confused expression that matched yours.

"y-your pregnancy," aki stuttered out, as though it was obvious.

"pregnancy? i'm... i'm not pregnant," you stated, getting out of your chair. "who told you i was pregnant?"

"we just saw the news flash on your phone," your hairstylist defended, gesturing to your phone. "there was an article from red sun times and the title read: is nanami kento's wife pregnant?"

"i'm not pregnant," you repeated, growing in frustration. the fucking nerve. "do i look pregnant?" you snapped, causing the pair to furiously shake their heads and protest the article. you scoffed, grabbing your phone and your bag, storming out of the dressing room. the directory of photography called after you as you exited the studio, but you paid no attention to him.

safe inside your car, you opened the article. you also had a slew of texts and missed calls from your husband, but you didn't have the patience for him right now. the article was crudely written, at best. red sun times had been losing subscribers and readers lately, and this seemed like a last ditch effort to get their subscriptions up again. it didn't make sense to you, however. neither you nor nanami were a-lister names in the celebrity world. nanami didn't even consider himself a celebrity. sure, you both had a hefty fan base, but it was nothing compared to some of the other celebrities of japan, like the model gojo satoru or the mma fighter fushiguro toji.

it didn't matter, anyways. it wasn't the words of the article that hurt. it was the pictures. all them were of you with nanami on your latest outing. your anniversary was coming up, and nanami always got really sweet around that time, taking you out on dates on the days leading up to your anniversary. your anniversary was in three days, and a couple of days ago, nanami had taken you to a strawberry farm where you each filled a bucket's worth of strawberries, that were then all eaten on the picnic following the farm. the picnic spot was the riverside where he had proposed about seven years ago. you had an amazing time, and fell a little bit more in love with your caring husband. his sensible attention to detail, his doting words, his thoughtful actions, all of it made the date, and your relationship, perfect. now this article and its malicious pictures tainted that saccharine memory.

. . . THE IMAGES HAD CLEARLY BEEN EDITED. that's what your logical brain was trying to scream at you, but your emotions weren't listening. a small bump had been added to your stomach in each photo, your hips had been wider, and in a couple, your breasts had even been adjusted, as though they were full with milk. you felt sick. it was so hard to tell the difference between what was edited and what wasn't. did you really look like that? did red sun times even have to adjust these photos? "you look so skinny, i couldn't even tell!" the words of your makeup artist bounced around your pounding head. if you were so skinny, why did she still assume you were pregnant?

you had tried so hard that day to look pretty for your husband, wearing his favorite yellow sundress of yours, with the sweetheart neckline and puffy sleeves. nanami always said he preferred your natural look, but you had still glossed your lips, tinted your cheeks a faint pink and dusted your nose with highlighter. you had tied your hair up with a soft yellow ribbon, curling the loose strands. you had checked your reflection at least fifteen times before deeming yourself fit for the day. you had looked good in the mirror, so why didn't you look like that in these photos?

tears threatened at your eyes, but you swallowed them with the lump in your throat. you were almost home now, and you were sure that nanami had seen the article. he loved the red sun times because they didn't do stupid stuff like this. guess they just lost another reader.

"darling?" nanami's voice rang out as you entered your home. he walked into your vision, looking worried. you hadn't answered your phone at all, hadn't even read any of his texts. "oh, koibito..." his voice softened as you raised your head to meet his gaze.

you look so despondent with your watery eyes, and sullen posture. you hadn't even removed your shoes before he had scooped you into his arms and you were sobbing into his shoulder. you don't know how long you stood there in the foyer of your home, everything silent except for your choked breathing. there was a dark blemish on his wool sweater now, but nanami waved it off when you tried to apologize.

he guided you to the living room, helping you sit on the grey sofa that you had bought together six years ago. nanami worked wordlessly as he removed your shoes and coat; he took your phone and bag, placing them on the stand by the front door. a high pitched whistle echoed from the kitchen, and moments later he returned with a cup of steaming sencha, your favorite kind of tea. you felt so pathetic, sitting there sniffling while your husband tended to you.

when he returned for the final time, nanami had changed into a black t-shirt, and sat on the leather ottoman opposite from you. his elbows rested on his knees as nanami watched you sip the tea he had made you. he didn't speak, but only because he couldn't find the right words.

nanami prided himself on his syntax and vocabulary. he was the type of person who always said the right thing at the right time, it's why being an author was the only career option he cared for. but here, you sat in a stifled silence. he knew he should say something, but what? what were you were supposed to say in a situation like this? you were clearly distressed, and it was nanami's role as your husband to offer you words of encouragement, but his tongue was dry.

if nanami was honest, he almost wanted there to be some truth to the article. you hadn't exactly been trying for kids, but you hadn't not been trying. kids was something you both knew you wanted, but you hadn't discussed it in further detail. reading further into the article and viewing the photos made it clear that it wasn't true, at all. nanami knew almost immediately that when you saw this, you were going to breakdown, and he would be there to pick you up. so he ordered your favorite ramen, made your favorite tea and held you in his arms until you had calmed down.

nanami knew that you would believe the edits, that you would see yourself like that. despite how much he praised your body, you hated it, and he hated that. anytime you made some side comment about your stomach or thighs, it almost started a fight. he loathed the way you saw yourself, and nothing he argued stuck with you.

in the last few months, however, nanami was starting to see some progress. you stared less in the mirror with your meticulous eyes, pinching flaps of your skin between your fingers. you began to buy less healthier foods, and stopped mentioning the stupid diet you had placed yourself on. you wore clothes that you specifically avoided unless you had nothing else to wear, because of the way they displayed your figure. he knew that this article had erased all of that progress.

"i'm sorry, nani" you croaked, curling your knees into your chest.

"shh, no, koibito," nanami disregarded your apology. "you don't ever have to apologize about your emotions, especially not to me." he moved from the ottoman to take the spot next to you, pulling your small frame into his. one hand held yours while the other stroked your hair amorously. "the article was cruel, and any person with a heart would be reacting the same as you. don't worry, i've already called their editor and he said he doesn't know why the piece was published when it wasn't supposed to. it's being removed as we speak."

your heart welled at his words. he was so patient and understanding. moments like these made you love nanami more. and it gave you the confidence to tell him the truth.

"kento," you began, pulling away from him slowly. you used his given name over your nickname, nani, for him. you only used it during fights or confessions. he immediately perked up. "i..." you sighed. words were always nanami's thing, not yours. "i'm not upset about the photos."

"oh?"

"okay, well, i am, but for a different reason than you think."

"and what reason is that, koibito?" his tone was emotionless, as if he hadn't decided how to respond yet.

"i know you think it's because i'm always stressing about my body and the way it looks, and you're worried because i haven't been fretting over how i look as much, right? well, that's because i was pregnant, and i decided i couldn't care about that when i had bigger concerns, like the tiny life in my stomach." it became harder to speak, your sentences broken by tears and sobs.

"...was?" nanami's voice cracked, and his misty eyes matched yours.

you nodded, "was. i... i had a miscarriage."

"w-when?"

"about a week ago. i was about a month and a half along."

"you mean that time you canceled girl's night because you were sick? you told me that it was just your period, and you sent me out to get you stuff from the store." nanami's brows furrowed.

"yeah, that's.. that's right." you took a breath to steady yourself. "there was just blood everywhere, and i was a wreck and i didn't have the courage to tell you. i know how badly you want kids of our own, and i just didn't want to hurt you."

"hurt me? baby, you were the one hurting, and i just played it off like it was normal. i feel terrible."

"you couldn't have known," you reassured him. "but that article, and those photos, it just tore me apart all over again. that's how i should look, that's how i want to look, but i lost that part of me, that part of us."

nanami didn't respond at first, just reached back out for you. you both sat there, quiet sniffles and crying the only sound in your home. he continued to comfort you, even though you felt like you should be offering him comfort. after all, nanami is learning that you were pregnant and now no longer pregnant all at once.

"koibito," he murmured after a while. "i want you to know that i love you no matter what. i don't care how you look or how you don't look. you're my wife, and i didn't marry you because of your body and figure. i married you because i fell in love with your laugh, your smile, your unpredictable personality, and all the other beautiful things about you. i'm always going to support you and love you. and if you want to be pregnant, then i'm happy to oblige."

you laughed despite your sadness, swatting at him playfully, which elicited a "what? i'm serious!" from nanami.

"shut up," you muttered, still chuckling. he smiled, happy to see that you were laughing along with him. nanami pressed a kiss to your temple, humming an "i love you" against your skin.

you snuggled deeper into him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. "i wanna be a mom, nani."

he wrapped both arms around you, meeting your gaze. "then a mom you shall be, my koibito."

#jjk men #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #kento nanami #celebrity au #celebrity nanami #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #nanami x female reader #jjk nanami #jjk kento #nanami my beloved #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami angst #nanami fluff #husband nanami #jujustu kaisen nanami #nanamin #jujutsu nanami #jujustu kaisen kento nanami #jujustu nanami #author!nanami

[cvpiddszn]

𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: first time writing on tumblr, just needed some angst. it's an au that i made, sorry if the names are confusing. might make a part two.

summary: birdie is tired of feeling like jack doesn't love her anymore

warnings: babies, swearing, angst, a whole lot of frustration

word count: 2.7k

series: part one, part two, part three

I never thought that after five years I would’ve gotten into a routine with my children but with time, I did. I loved my two boys but with our newer arrival; Amara Lane Hughes, being born in the summer didn’t have all the perks. Sure it meant that Jack was around for her birth and there to help me but it also meant that Amara became more codependent on her father being there every waking moment.

It seemed only a minute ago –it had been two hours– that I had put down the little hothead. She was falling asleep in my arms after crying out. It was clear that she missed her father. Sometimes I wished that Jack had just left the girl alone, but he always caved desperate to hold the little girl. He refused to let her sleep in her crib, setting her in between us late at night when I was only too exhausted to argue. I often wondered if our spark was gone, that we didn’t have any of our youth left and with Jack constantly with our baby, there was never a second alone for us. Kisses on the cheek and small praises were all that were exchanged between us.

I knew that it was wrong to feel this way. Especially when I knew that I loved Amara with my entire heart. I should be thankful that I have a husband that loves their kids so much but some part of me was selfish. I just wanted a minute with my husband, but it seemed that when he was home and when it was time for the little girl's nap, Daddy always tucked her into our large bed and fell asleep with her.

The loud cry from my daughter’s room snapped me from my daze. I blinked at the screen, Jack’s hockey team’s highlights playing on the screen. I pushed myself from the couch, the twins; Lowen and Lake, sitting on the other end of the couch happily watching their father’s game highlights, pointing at the people they knew. 

I flipped the lights of Amara’s bedroom on, I knew that the little girl preferred our bed now, after too many times that Jack took her in there. It didn’t help that I had just finished breastfeeding, resorting to formula now. Amara was not okay with the change in her life. I picked up the girl whose eyes adjusted to the brightness, realizing that it was her mother rather than her father, she instantly began to cry.

I bounced her softly, cooing in hopes that it would calm her but she continued to cry, “Sh, Mara. It’s okay, Daddy’ll be back tomorrow. How does that sound?” I spoke quietly, admiring her blue eyes much like J’s. At the mention of her father, the girl’s eyes frantically looked around searching for her protector upon realizing that he wasn’t there she cried louder.

I hoped that at the sight of her brothers, she calmed, so I took her into the living room settling on the couch. Lake perked his head up at his little sister, settling beside his little sister and I but the little girl only whined further. The little girl’s head snapped at the sound of her father’s voice, she perked up towards the TV, showing an post-game interview. A gurgling noise came from her as her smile came shining through. Amara’s other hand –that was not gripping onto my finger– made a grabby motion at the TV. 

“Do you boys mind finding me your sister’s soother? I think it might be in Daddy and I’s room on the bedside table.” I asked, to which Lake and Lowen both nodded being the angel children they were. I couldn’t remember a time that they never listened to me, being momma’s boys all the way. I was beginning to miss that stage when my babies needed me and didn’t cry constantly. They were good babies. Upon the boys' leave, Amara only cried harder, the echoing sound beginning to hurt my ears. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish your dad was here too,” I began to speak, feeling the knot at the back of my throat, “You should be lucky, Mara. Daddy loves you so much. If he could steal the world for you, he’d do it.”

Tears of frustration began to fall as my daughter threw her hands out in a tantrum, I laid her back against my thighs, and the girl squirmed from side to side unsatisfied with how everything was going. I attempted to keep my voice light, but with tears continuing to fall I couldn’t help but feel my heart get lodged into my throat, “I don’t know how to make it stop, sweetheart. You’re probably just tired.” It wasn’t a lie, she hadn’t gotten much sleep in her bed which she had never gotten used to, but it was always me who had never gotten any sleep.

Lake stopped in front of me, noticing my sadness, he frowned. “Don’t cry, Mommy.” He said, his thumb coming forth to wipe away the tears falling. With the pacifier in his hand, he placed it into Amara’s mouth, whose crying began to stop. Lake crawled in beside me placing a pillow under his arm patting it softly and I took his hint. Passing Amara over to her older brother who had this gentle look in his eyes as he stared at the infant.

All the while, Lowen Hughes had gotten ahold of my phone, calling his father immediately. Pressing the phone over his ear, to listen to the ring. It wasn’t unusual that Lowen called his father, they made sure to check in on each other constantly, talking to their father through my text messages or calls. 

“Hey, Bird I’m kind of busy right now. So I’ll need to call you back. Later tonight with the boys-”

“Dad?” Lowen asked gently making sure to keep his voice down to that I wouldn’t hear. The last thing he needed was to get in trouble for calling Dad while he was working.

There was a silent pause for a moment, one filled with confusion on the other end. “Hey, bud. What’re you doing with your mom’s phone?” A door shut on the other side, for privacy.

“Lake said that he saw mom crying with baby Amara,” Lowen stated quietly, he peered out the door checking to see the three of them were still occupied. “Mara is giving Mom a hard time. When do you get back?”

“I get back tomorrow morning, bud. I’ll be there when you wake up. Do you want to hand the phone to Mom?” At his father’s question, Lowen nodded, not realizing that his father couldn’t see him. The younger boy walked out into the living room, holding my phone out to me. I raised my brow in question and he mouthed back “Dad”.

With Lake and now, Lowen, being preoccupied with their little sister that was sleeping soundly in Lake’s arms. “Hey,” I spoke into the phone, my voice soft as a small smile finally graced my face, warmth filling my body at the thought of Jack calling me to check up on her.

“Lo called,” my heart dropped, “How’s my girl doing?” Jack’s voice was a comfort to hear, better than the screaming cries of our daughter on the couch. 

The warmth was back, “Good, she misses you,” I spoke, clearly talking about myself as I kept hushed over the phone like it was a secret that I couldn’t share with anyone else, certain that Amara would scream in jealousy at me getting to talk to her father.

“Really? Lo said she was giving you a hard time. I’ll be home soon, babe.” The tears began to well up in my eyes again as I crouched into the corner, away from the sight of my children but my eyes were always trained on them. I had truly thought that he meant me. It was an honest mistake. I felt so fucking stupid and selfish thinking that I deserved more effort from my husband. This was the life that I had wanted.

My hand covered my sobs over my mouth, letting out a half hum of a reply. Everything was tuned out as I could hear the beeping of the other line completely missing everything that my husband was blabbering on about. Too focused on trying to slow my heart rate and compose herself for my children.

Through blurry tears, my finger hovered over the contact before pressing it, listening to the rings go through one after the other. The one person I knew would be there in a second without hesitance. Her best friend. And she would be sure to call Isla right after, knowing that she would want to know exactly what happened, though I didn’t need a mediator right now, I needed comfort that I was right to know that it was okay for me to feel like this rather than having to talk to my husband about it.

“Hey, Bird! Did you see that picture I sent you? Holls is a little troublemaker just like her father is.” Kiera cooed softly at her child, but I couldn’t hold it in, I sobbed into the phone curling my hands before pushing my nails deeply into my palms like I did when I was younger. “Oh my god, Bird! Are you okay? Fuck, I’m coming over, bringing Holls with me. You’re telling me everything!”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Holland and Amara were sleeping soundly upstairs. Kiera used one of the twins’ old cribs for Holland. Amara was quiet most of the time, having her Aunt Kiera set her into her bed while I cuddled up to Holland who was rather fond of me. Kiera soon took up her daughter –who had fallen asleep in her my arms– into a crib. 

The brunette let me lean my head against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. The twins put on some movie that they liked but eventually, it was going to be their bedtime too. “I swear, babies like everyone but the person that birthed them.” The brunette commented, her hand running through my hair in a soothing manner that I was sure could have me falling asleep in a few seconds.

“I don’t know how you do it, Kie.” I sighed, my body comforted in warmth between her sister and a blanket that my boys had placed on us. 

Kiera just laughed, “Bird, you’ve got two amazing boys. And they’re twins by the way! With Amara, you’ve got three kids to take care of you. One isn’t even a year old yet! You’re doing great, Bird.” She kissed the top of my head letting me be lulled to sleep. “I’ll put the boys to sleep, Bird. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Her arms tightened around me, squeezing me every once in a while to let me know that she was always there and when I could hear hushed whispers and small steps on the floor I finally calmed to sleep. The first time that I had in three days.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"You listen here Jack Hughes,” Kiera Finch’s finger pushed against her brother-in-law’s chest, “I’m taking your three children sometime this week. You are going to take out your wife, and show her that you still love her.” She spoke quietly, looking rather intimidating as baby Holland was placed onto her hip.

Nico kissed his wife on the cheek to which she smiled softly, patting his cheek gently before he grabbed onto the diaper bag pulling it up onto his shoulder. “Let’s go, firecracker.” He joked, beginning to poke Holland’s sides to which she giggled, hands reaching out towards her father.

Kie hummed, snapping her head back as she glared at Jack. “Understand? I’ll text you the details and when you will be doing it. Don’t screw this up, Hughes.” Despite his confusion at his sister-in-law’s speech and rather harsh scolding, he nodded along wishing nothing more than to curl up with his baby girl.

When the door shut, Jack smiled at the smell of his home knowing that his wife would be asleep in their bed. He decided that he didn’t want to wake her up, he would take some weight off her chest, get the two boys ready for school and little Amara up from her sleep. 

He learned that he shouldn’t question when Kiera Hischier came over to their house, though he at least thought that she would’ve stopped with the nine-month-old but she never did. No matter how young the baby was or how tired they were Kiera always made time to see her big sister. Sometimes they even had Flora and Wren –Flora's step-daughter– come over with them. Wren was good with the younger girls, and it wasn’t a surprise when Bird told Jack that Wren had asked Flora when she and Dawson were going to have a kid.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

I didn't sleep as long as I wanted to. If I could’ve stayed asleep in a coma, I would’ve, but the overwhelming smell of bacon filled the room. I realized that early on during my pregnancy with Amara, I hated the smell of bacon, the sad reality was that it turns out that it was something that never ended after she was born. Which was extremely upsetting because I really loved bacon.

After getting ready, I walked into the kitchen. Smiling at my children, Lo and Lake sat at the table chowing down their pancakes. Their appetites were quite large for five-year-olds but it wasn’t something unusual. Ellen said that J’s eating habits were the same as a kids.

“Babe, you’re up! I thought I’d let you sleep in a bit.” Jack’s voice made me jump. I knew that he was supposed to be back but something in my mind had pushed it back. As he leaned forward for a kiss, I turned my face allowing him to kiss my cheek. No ‘I missed you’ or ‘I love yous’ from either of us, a tension filling the room.

I ignored my husband, kissing my boys on their heads. Smiling at Amara who giggled softly, in a much better mood with her father home now. Pressing a kiss to her head, I ran a hand over her head feeling the amount of hair. There was quite a bit, especially for so young but I loved her regardless, certain that she picked it up from my younger sister; Flora, who had a full head of blonde hair practically as soon as she was born. 

The two boys placed their dishes into the sink, grabbing their lunches that had been packed the day before. The three of us had a routine down by the start of October with Jack’s morning skates. Normally they consisted of Amara tagging along with us but I assumed that Jack wanted the little girl to himself for a while. Getting in their constant father-daughter bonding time.

I grabbed my phone off the charger, seeing the missed call from last night. I could the van door slam shut outside. “Shit, sorry I missed your call.” I frowned, shoving the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. At the sudden grasp on my waist, I gasped, steadying myself by holding onto Jack’s shoulders.

“We should do something today. You, Amara, and I? What do you say, Mama?” His charming smile almost made me want to say yes. To spend the entire day together, hoping that the hole that was in my heart filled with borrowed time. A sudden whine interrupted Jack from saying anything more, he sighed leaning his head onto my shoulder.

“Your girl is calling you,” I teased, and I know that I shouldn’t have made the dig. It was our baby. It was my baby. It felt wrong that I felt so jealous of something so small, something so big in our life, something I knew might’ve happened. I didn’t have a right to feel like this, it wasn’t right to feel like this. “I’ve got errands to run today. Maybe some other time?” 

“Yeah, okay.” It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t see the sadness on his face, our daughter squealing in anger needing some sort of attention from her father, but Jack couldn’t even stay focused watching me, his wife, walk out of the house like there was nothing wrong when we both knew deep down that something was so very wrong.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nico hischier imagine #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #hughes brothers #cvpiddszn writes

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby' - epilogue

EPILOGUE | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, references to smut, fluff (tooth-rotting fluff), mentions of food, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 1.3k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

EPILOGUE | long story short

Four years later.

You blink awake groggily, the bright morning light inescapable. It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the way it often does in those first few seconds of waking up - then, you remember. The sound of ocean waves, the smell of salt air, and the feeling of a solid warmth by your side is enough to remind you. You sigh dreamily, backing up closer against Steve. He stirs, still half-asleep, his arm slinging around your waist to pull you against him.

“Morning,” you whisper.

“Mmph,” he grumbles, clearly not ready to join you in being awake.

You twist in his arms until you’re facing him. His eyelids are fluttering, breathing steady - he still looks so young like this, so peaceful. You would stare at him sleeping all day, if he let you. The bright morning sun dances across his skin, illuminating his freckles and moles, the shape of his brow and nose, and the slight stubble he’s developing after a day of skipping shaving. You sigh, reaching up to gently trace his features, your fingers only brushing along his skin ever-so lightly. He stirs again, nuzzling into your touch. You giggle softly, leaning over to kiss any part of him you could reach - his forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks - and, the moles along his jawline and neck, your favorite. It’s mornings like this that you love the most.

“What’re you doing,” he asks groggily.

“Waking you up,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his. “Want me to stop?”

“No. But, I preferred how you woke me up yesterday,” he murmurs, grinning. You blush at the memory, remembering how he regained consciousness to the feeling of your lips around his cock about 24 hours ago.

“I’m sure you did - I promise, there’s plenty where that came from.”

He chuckles, turning under the sheets to get a better look at you.

“This is actually my favorite thing,” he says softly.

“What is?”

“Waking up next to you.”

Even after all of these years, you feel as if your heart is about to burst, your love for the man beside you impossible to contain.

“Well, good thing you’ll be waking up next to me forever,” you whisper.

“Mm…did you sleep well, Mrs. Harrington?”

You nod, scooching closer until you’re nose-to-nose again.

“And you?”

“You know me… I always sleep better when you’re here.”

“Mm.”

You both lay in a peaceful silence for a while, enjoying a lazy morning

You yawn. “What time is it, anyways?”

“Not sure - does it matter?”

You shrug. “No - not really. Maybe we can take the boat out again today, at some point - I think that’d be fun.”

“Mm. Also, we do have a dinner reservation at that rooftop place you like tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm hm. Turns out that tonight is when we’re gonna be able to see your star from here - I thought it’d be nice to look at it where I first gave it to you, you know?”

It still amazes you, how easily his thoughtfulness comes to him.

“Have you finally figured out where it is?” you tease.

“I know where it is -”

“Baby, every time you point it out, it’s a completely different star -”

“Looks like I’ll just have to buy you the whole sky, so everything is named after you - d’you think they’ll let me do that?”

You giggle.

“I think, like, NASA would take issue with that.”

“It’s worth the risk, I think,” he jokes.

When the subject of planning your honeymoon had come up, you and Steve had looked at destinations all around the world - the smarter thing to do would probably go somewhere new, a place neither of you had been before. But, that idea only lasted about five minutes before you both had admitted where you really wanted to go.

Ischia Island was the only option, really - where else would you go, besides the place where you had fallen in love? He even found the same villa to rent - he had initially suggested a resort stay instead, which you refused. This is what feels right - knowing Steve, he was close to just buying the place if it would make you happy.

You stretch under the covers, groaning. Your diamond ring catches the sunlight and glistens - and, you can’t help but smile at the sight of it. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get completely used to the sight of it - or, the idea of being married to Steve at all. 

The wedding had been a massive affair, a destination event in Naples with all of your close friends and family. Robin was your maid of honor, and cried during her whole speech, even when she told the embarrassing story of walking in on you. Eddie and his band performed, actually switching out their typical heavy metal fare for more wedding-friendly classics. The moment ingrained in your mind is when Steve saw you in your dress for the first time - you had opted for a “first look,” a private moment for the two of you to see each other dressed up for the first time, and take some photos before the ceremony. He practically crumbled when he saw you, pulling you into a suffocating hug - part of you had thought he quite literally would never let go. Somehow, he was still finding ways to surprise you.

You know that, after this honeymoon, you’d both return to Chicago, where you split time for half of the year. Then, you’d come back to Rome, where your second home is. It actually makes Steve’s job easier, this compromise - after expanding the company globally, he enlisted you to work with him, opening a nonprofit sector of HNL for underprivileged teens looking to study at foreign universities. For people like you had once been. In his words, we have more money than we need, and I think it’s about time we do something good. He has a passion for helping kids, you’ve learned. YOu both work hard, but for you, it’s easy, doing something you love with the person you love.

Steve’s hand finds yours under the covers, entwining your fingers and pulling it up so he can press a few kisses to your knuckles. The softness of the gesture makes you want to crumble, even after all this time. He takes a moment to examine your ring, silver to match his own wedding band. To most, the star of your finger is the sparkling diamond on the engagement ring - but, his eyes flit to the pearl on your wedding band instead, the one he had found on this very island years ago. 

“Guess what,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I love you.”

You feel yourself smile, and bury your face into the pillow.

“I really hope that’s the case,” you laugh. “Ti amo tanto.”

I love you so much.

Then, the moment is ruined by the rumbling of your stomach.

“Breakfast?” you ask. He laughs.

“Yeah, okay - I’ll go make something. Want to have it on the balcony?”

You nod, biting your lip as you watch him walk away.

Once, Steve had told you he’d make sure you want for nothing - that, whatever you wanted, he’d give to you. That sentiment still seeps through pretty often - he loves nothing more than spoiling you. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen he says.

But, laying here in this beautiful Italian villa, with the smell of eggs wafting in from where your husband is humming to himself in the kitchen - you have everything you want. And, as long as you’re with him, you always will.

****

author's note: that's it! Thanks for coming on this wild journey with me. This might not be the end of this universe's Steve and reader - perhaps some blurbs will be posted in the future, if there's interest. But, that's the end of their main story - I hope you enjoyed. I also hope you'll stick around for my upcoming projects. Thank you all for supporting this fic - I'd love to hear your thoughts! This is Katy, signing off (for now).

#dcmb fic #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington/reader fluff #sugardaddy!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington/you #steve harrington/reader smut #steve harrington x you

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART FIVE)

one — two — three — four — five

notes: i apologize, this one kinda sucks because i work all day so i made this at work! <3

y/ndevils00

liked by ehaula, nicohischier, and 28,729 others

y/ndevils00 hello fellow devils hockey sufferers! today our dear boys in red (and white) played against the NY Islanders. they didn’t do good.

to start us off, i have a couple super sexy warmup pics of my uber sweet and very in need of a haircut boyfriend, rowdy! that girl behind him is so me every time i see him 🤩

to follow that, the first penalty of the game tonight was awarded to said boyfriend! oh how i love a bad boy 🤭 he sat behind the stanchion and later admitted it was to hide from my camera, but jokes on him, i got a pic anyways!

next slide, we have captain swiss with his tongue out. I LOVE THAT SLUT!

up next, we have haulaback girl with the ONLY devils goal of the night! (i told you we suffered) so happy for my uncle haula (we are not related in any form)

and lastly, we have my wonderful marino (and the diamonds), making the facial expression that sums up how i was feeling the entire night!

we inevitably lost, 5-1, to the island dwellers. better luck thursday boys!

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, ehaula and john.marino97

ehaula thank you niece! (we are not related in any form)

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome! i appreciate you keeping us from getting shutout!

john.marino97 why that picture? seriously WHY?

y/ndevils00 why NOT?

john.marino97 when i get a penalty, i get sprayed with water or smacked with a newspaper, but when hughesy gets a penalty, you make out with him for about half of intermission?

y/ndevils00 i support jack’s rights. but more importantly, i support jack’s wrongs.

jackhughes it’s true, she loves when i do bad things

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes once again, not putting your dishes in the dishwasher is not “bad” and i do not love it. it’s annoying.

jackhughes you said you loved my hair

y/ndevils00 i lied.

jackhughes wow, this betrayal runs deep. idk how i’ll ever recover from this stab in the back

y/ndevils00 i think you’ll be fine later 👀

trevorzegras gross

nicohischier did you just call me a slut?

y/ndevils00 yes. i can change it though; slut, whore, whatever you’d prefer to be called.

nicohischier is my name an option?

y/ndevils00 no, sorry, there’s been a unanimous vote to eliminate that option

nicohischier what?! who voted?

y/ndevils00 me.

user3 i love that at least half the pics are usually always jack 😭

user57 she feeds us so well 😩🫶

dawson1417 i didn’t make the post?!

y/ndevils00 you didn’t do anything of note. do better.

jamie.drysdale i don’t go here, but i look forward to these posts

y/ndevils00 aww jameson! you’re so sweet 🤭 come visit me soon!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras I GOT A Y/N NICKNAME BEFORE YOU! IN YOUR FACE Z!

jamie.drysdale and of course! i’ll try and make it out to jersey asap!

y/ndevils00 oh, trevor has a nickname!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 i do?! you’ve never called me it! what is it?!

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras what are you talking about? i call you it all the time, satan’s favorite child!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes is it too late for me to take back my advice about telling her about your feelings? she’s mean

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras why can’t you two just get along?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras you love me, i bake you lemon cake in the summer! if jack were to break up with me, you’ll never have that again

trevorzegras @/jackhughes ya know what? on second thought, she can stay

#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nico hischier #john marino #trevor zegras #dawson mercer #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

[miyuhpapayuh]

He got game 4

Adina: The Cougar Next Door

Summertime rolled around, and Odell's mother encouraged him to take up a little summer job, so he could have some money in his pocket to do as he wished.

He wasn't allergic to hard work, so he welcomed the idea. At first he wasn't sure what he'd want to do to make money, but when he saw his next door neighbor, Adina, a 32-year-old divorcee, tending to the hanging garden that occupied her front porch, he knew just what to do.

One warm, yet breezy Thursday afternoon he caught her outside and voiced his proposition of taking care of her yard work. She happily accepted, offering more than fair compensation.

The first week went by uneventfully, as he planned on how he'd put the moves on his vixen of a neighbor. On a couple of occasions, he caught her second-too-long stares as he pushed and pulled the lawn mower across the grass.

Bingo.

With her paid vacation underway, she didn't have much else that needed her attention. She didn't have children, just her Egyptian Mau, Perla, a sassy kitten that seemingly preferred to be by herself.

On a particularly boring early afternoon, she found herself sitting on her porch swing in a cream colored sundress that bared an expansive amount of thigh, fanning herself with a vintage paper fan as she watched Odell manicure her front lawn. She sat with a bit more interest when he decided to ditch his beater and hang it over his shoulders.

She knew she shouldn't be having the thoughts that ran through her head about this boy. He was over a decade her junior, for God's sake! But God knows the way those beads of sweat dripped down his sculpted torso made her drip below the belt. Her conscience was telling her to get away and take a quick ride with the windows down. Anything to clear her mind, but the little succubus on her shoulder urged her to take him for a test drive.

Weighing each decision carefully, her dark side won out. She was determined to find out if he could make her kitten purr.

Pouring some ice-cold strawberry lemonade into a glass, she made her way over to Odell, tapping him to get his attention as he had earbuds in.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Honey, you make me sound like a grandma," she joked, "Adina's fine. Here," she handed him the refreshing drink, "I know it's hot as hell out here."

She had to fan herself when he flashed that brilliant white smile her way. "Appreciate it, Adina."

"You look like you could use a break. Out here with this sun beating on you. Come sit down and get some of this air conditioner."

Come inside and get this throat is what he heard. It's what she might as well have said.

"I'd like that." She led him inside and he thanked his lucky stars his mother was working until the late evening today.

He might be here a while.

He sighed in pure relief when the cold central air made contact with his blazing hot skin.

"I see you inhaled that lemonade, sugar. Want another glass?"

"Actually, I'd rather drink you."

"Hm. And here I thought I'd have to play the coy game." Shamelessly, she let her dress fall from her body. A scrap of black lace you could barely classify as underwear was the only thing adorning her now. She hooked her finger in the front of his basketball shorts.

"Follow me."

She led him to her spa-like bathroom that had a shower big enough to fit at least five people. After fiddling with a couple knobs, water rained down from the ceiling. Pleased with the temperature, she rid herself of her panties. Bending at the waist, she peeled them down her legs giving him the perfect view of her glistening cove. She flung the piece of cloth at him, and he caught it, sticking them in the pocket of his shorts.

She entered the shower, standing directly under the water. He watched mesmerized as the steaming water cascaded down her figure.

"Care to join me? Or would you rather stand there drooling on yourself?" she chuckled. He was out of his remaining clothes and in the shower in record time.

Taking her mango-scented body wash, she squeezed some into her palm, working it into a rich lather. Starting at his neck, she worked her hands down his body, washing him down.

Slipping down to her knees to wash lower, and she's face to face with the prettiest dick she's ever seen. Long, girthy, with a thick vein going up the underside.

Perfect.

She gripped it, running the flat of her tongue along that vein. Placing a sloppy kiss to the tip, she winked before swallowing him whole. She used one of her free hands to rub her clit and the other to massage his balls.

He exhaled roughly through his nose, gripping her thick, wet hair in his fingers. She relaxed her throat allowing him to fuck her face however he liked.

She slid two of her fingers into herself, moaning around him.

"Fuck," he bit out as the vibrations from her mouth covered him.

He pulled out of her mouth before he could bust in it, and placed her on the bench in the recess of the shower wall, kneeling between her legs. He draped them over his shoulders, and went to work, licking a stripe up her slit much like she did earlier making her hiss.

He was intrigued by the tiny gold bar that went through her hood. He investigated it with his tongue. He must have tripped something because his mouth started to vibrate, eliciting a gasp from her.

'So she's that kinda freak,' he thought. He licked circles around her clit while the vibing piercing did its thing. He could just barely make out her sweet little moans as his head was basically sandwiched between her thighs.

Her head was thrown back in pleasure, moaning loudly into the damp air. A hand was threaded through his curls, while the other tweaked her nipple.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum!" she ended on a shriek. He groaned against her already overstimulated clit, setting her off. She made a mess of her juices all over his face.

Getting eye-level with her, he pressed their lips together making her taste herself. She tasted even better on his tongue.

Exiting the shower, he forewent drying off, and bent her over the counter. He sent a heavy smack to her ass, surprised when she asked for another, harder this time. Quick to oblige, he made sure to leave a nice, bright red mark this time. One of the sexiest sounds left her mouth in appreciation making his dick stiffer than he thought possible.

Moving behind her, he tapped his head against her a few times before sliding in, filling her to the hilt causing them both curse at the contact. He spread her open to making sure he got as deep as possible with each stroke. She had to brace herself against the mirror for fear of hitting it headfirst with how powerful his thrusts were.

"You're so--," he hits her spot so good she almost loses her balance, "fuck baby, you're so fucking deep!"

She brings one of her arms back to press against his abs to relieve the building pressure.

He caught her arm, holding it behind her back. Gripping her neck, he pulled her back placing his mouth against her ear.

"You gon take all this fucking dick. Got it?" It was like he was stealing the breath from her body with how deep he was.

“Got it?!"

He tightened his grip on her, moving painstakingly slow, pulling out so far she thought he'd pull out, just to slam back into her wetness full force driving her insane.

"Yes! Yes imma take all of it!" Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her jaw hanging slack as he brought her closer and closer to spilling all over him.

"Good girl."

He knew she was close, and he wasn't far behind.

"You ‘bout to make me cum all up in this good shit, baby. You want that?" he licked up the side of her face.

"Mmm, yeah give me all that nut, big boy."

"Take that shit, then." She began throwing it back on him recklessly, meeting him thrust for thrust, obscene, wet sounds filling the bathroom.

Together, they came loudly & noisily, with her wetting up his dick and thighs. She pulsated around him, milking every drop she could. He collapsed on top of her, their sweaty bodies sticking together as they tried to regain control of their breathing. She reached back, rubbing soothing circles against the back of his neck with her fingertips.

"I'm gonna have to raise your pay," she joked tiredly.

Lmao this one was wild. Enjoy!

@thegifstories @blackerthings @ghostfacekill-monger @honestpreference @blowmymbackout @headcannonxgalore @harmshake @henneseyhoe @blackpinup22 @twistedcharismaaa @abeautifulmindexposed @starcrossedxwriter @megamindsecretlair @soufcakmistress

#miyuhpapayuh #blackwriters #smut #he got game #odell beckham jr

[boggie-things]

At five years old, Robin Buckley says her favorite color is pink when asked by her kindergarten teacher.

It seems like the right answer, it's what all the other girls say (except for a few who say purple, but Robin thinks of the flowers at her grandma's funeral earlier that year that were a sickly shade a mauve), so it must be hers as well.

She doesn't mind wearing it, but she thinks it's bright, easy to call attention to. She gets scolded in second grade by Tammy Thompson when she says it's really just a shade of red, after that she decides she doesn't like it as much anymore.

In fourth grade she says it's green when her mom asks for a color to paint her room. It's the color of outside and Robin likes to play there.

Her favorite shoes are forest green and she sits in the green section at lunch with her best friend Barabra Holland. It's a good fit.

But in sixth grade Tommy Hagan tells her it's a boy color and if she likes it then she's a boy. And so Robin changes it again. This time it's yellow.

Yellow is a safe color, neither gender seems to claim it and it's the shade of the sheets on her bed where she spends most of her time now that Barbara seems to prefer hanging out with Nancy Wheeler.

Yellow is the color of the stray cat that she feeds eyes and the shade of the lamplight she likes to read under at night.

She changes it to red in tenth grade when she hears Tammy Thompson say she likes it (even though she got mad at Robin for her earlier suggestion of pink being a light shade of it), and she really thinks it's the right one too.

It's the color of her beloved converse and the shade of the only makeup she owns, the scarlet lipstick her aunt got her for her fifteenth birthday.

It's a color of her Scoops uniform and the dry erase marker she uses to mark down Steve Harrington’s numerous fails at flirting.

It's the color of blood staining her shirt and dripping from Steve's face on the Fourth of July, 1985. The color of fireworks being thrown at a monster made up of red flesh and the color of the ambulance lights that flash as she sits in it.

After that she doesn't have a favorite color. It changes whenever someone new asks, alternating between the ones of her past.

It's green to Steve and pink to the mother renting a movie for her daughter. Yellow for Dustin and for a project in English class.

It's never red though.

But then 1986 rolls around and it's suddenly blue. The color of the sky and her favorite shirt is navy. The color of a denim jacket and the waters of Lovers Lake.

The color of Nancy Wheeler’s eyes looking at her in the library. Cerulean in the sun and cobalt as they trek through hell.

Bright azure when reflecting fire and the sparks of flying bullets. Soft maya blue under hospital lights.

They're shining admiral when they meet hers outside the Wheeler house two weeks after it all. Her tears match the rain when they kiss. Baby blue when they finally part.

It's blue when Nancy asks as they lay together in their apartment just outside of Boston. She jokes it's for the ocean that they had visited that summer, but later she tells her it's for her eyes.

It's blue like the ring she proposes with, cheap but full of meaning. Blue like the lilies of the Nile and bellflowers of Nancy's bouquet she tosses in the air.

Sapphire like their daughter's name and the chair Robin sits in when she reads to her. The color of her cookie monster cake for her first birthday and the rims of Nancy's reading glasses.

Blue like the dress she's buried in.

Blue like the flowers on their side by side graves.

#no im fine why do you ask? #bog drabbles #ronance drabble #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin & nancy

[carlsdarling]

Edging Carl Grimes 😱 I want that boy at my mercy, crying and begging and squirming. Maybe you get interrupted and have to stop, leaving Carl at that edge for the rest of the day, and he basically looses his shit the second you touch him later that night.

Ghost

Y/N seducing Carl and then leaving him at the edge, coming back later and he just can't wait... Basically plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

You had been visiting Carl, and now you were sitting in his room, wasting your time playing video games. The weather was gray and nasty; you would have preferred not to leave the house at all today, but later you were assigned to guard duty.

You noticed Carl kept eyeing you from the side when he thought you wouldn't notice. "Carl, what's going on?" you asked at one point, annoyed. He made an innocent face. "Stop looking at me all the time," you scolded, "It's distracting me from the game."

"Okay," he grumbled, but it wasn't five minutes before it happened again.

"Carl!" you objected, "that's not funny."

"Um, it's not meant to be funny, either," he pressed on, blushing.

"So, what's going on? Spill the beans," you demanded irritably, putting down the game controller.

"I was just thinking how pretty you are," he said softly. "And that I'd like to kiss you."

You were speechless for a moment. In fact, you'd been interested in Carl for a while, but you'd always felt that interest was unrequited. "Well," you said then, confused. "Why don't you just do it?"

Carl glanced in disbelief, but then leaned in to gently place his lips on yours. He kissed nicely, and you snuggled up to him. Soon your kisses grew hotter and your tongues played eagerly with each other, and you began tentatively stroking each other all over. You were getting hornier and felt your panties getting wet and sticky. You pulled away from Carl for a moment, causing him to protest in disappointment. "Shhh," you murmured, brushing his dark hair out of his face. His nose was just adorable, and you blew a kiss on it.

"Do we have to stop?" asked Carl, wanting to touch you again. His eyes looked dark with lust, and he didn't bother to hide the bulge in his jeans.

"Depends," you replied, "Do you have condoms?" He nodded sheepishly. "Why are you hoarding condoms here?" you immediately probed suspiciously.

"Because... because I've been dreaming of fucking you for a while now," he admitted, embarrassed.

Surprising him, you stripped off your colorful summer dress and put it aside. You were not wearing a bra, and Carl stared in amazement at your bare breasts. "Well then," you said, and it sounded warm and inviting, and you surrendered yourself to his caresses. You sat astride his lap so that he could take your nipples in his mouth and suck on them, almost making you cum. Horny, you moved your hips against his, feeling his hard one.

"Y/N? Can we seal the deal now?" gasped Carl. "It won't take long anyway, I'm worried. I'm so incredibly horny."

You smiled at him and undid his belt, then tampered with the buttons of his jeans while kissing his belly. Carl began to whimper impatiently and squirm on the floor beneath you.

Then there were footsteps on the stairs. "Y/N?" Michonne shouted.

You and Carl looked at each other in dismay and moved apart as if you had been bitten. Hastily, you grabbed your dress and put it on, while Carl zipped up his belt, just as the door opened. Michonne stared at you. "What are you guys doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh. We're just gaming," Carl said vaguely, pointing to the Play Station. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked downright distressed. He had laid down on his stomach in front of the TV so Michonne wouldn't see his boner.

"Y/N, did you forget your guard duty?" chided Michonne.

Guiltily, you bowed your head. "Yes. I'm sorry," you said contritely, getting up to put on your jacket and leave.

During the hours that followed on the wall, you not only froze in your thin dress, you thought about Carl nonstop, and the throbbing wetness between your legs nearly drove you insane.

By the time your guard duty was over, it was late evening, and you decided to revisit Carl and finish what you had started. You snuck into the house through the basement door like a ghost and quietly walked up the stairs to Carl's room. It didn't appear that anyone was still awake, so you turned down the door knob and slipped into the room. "Carl?" you whispered.

"Y/N? How did you manage to get into the house?" Carl replied, astonished.

You approached his bed in the dark, pale moonlight falling through the window. "Through the walls, like a ghost. Boooohooo," you commented. "Don't tell me you're naked," you then said suspiciously. "Like you knew I'd come around again," you teased him. "Or were you just going to pleasure yourself?"

"Um, yeah, I guess I was," Carl confessed. "But I'd rather do it with you." You undressed in the moonlight and let Carl watch, his breathing quick and shallow. "Come to bed," he begged, but you wanted to make him squirm and beg a little longer and danced around in front of him, giggling. You heard him groan softly and lay down to kiss him, feeling his erection.

You were hovering over him, kissing and licking his neck, and looked around for the condoms because you were now ready to mount him and ride him until he screams. "Where are..." you began as Carl suddenly moaned with pleasure, his cum squirting hot against your hip.

"Carl, are you kidding me?" you asked, half amused, half annoyed.

Bashfully, he buried his face in the pillow. "It's your fault, you were edging me so badly," his muffled voice was heard.

You slowly started kissing his neck and stroking him longingly, grinding against him in a teasing way. "I think I'll get him hard again," you purred, "The night is still long."

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes smut #carl fanfiction #carl grimes #carl grimes imagines

[be-my-ally]

Do it again. Please.

I HATE COMING UP WITH TITLES.

now this could be, a little bit, related to empty promises - or perhaps an AU off of it but you could also read it completely as a stand alone one shot. Fulfilling a request + prompt fill for ‘do it again. please.’  kinda imagining as if e + p’s month long honeymoon had gone so well they’d extended it rather than returning home 2 days later. 

pairing: fem!reader x Elvis Presley (1967)

warnings : 18+,18+, pwp. As always a lil bit of foreplay, teeny use of the term daddy, p in v sex, e can't stop + accidentally cums in her, couple of spanks here and there, tiny bit of innocence play? I use the term labia minora idk I have no excuse.

wc: miss VERY concise smut! 2.5k. 

The honeymoon period seems never-ending, you’ve been together now for almost three years, although only married for a little while - five weeks to the day tomorrow. You’re still celebrating every day like it’s an anniversary, wrapped in one another and cocooned in a bubble from Hawaii and now in California. Elvis hasn’t had to work for a little while, he’d taken the month off for your honeymoon, and extended that by a few weeks, despite the near-constant calls from the Colonel now. He’s talking about doing something new, something different, but for the moment you’re content to have him with you, even if you can tell he’s starting to itch to get back to the studio. He keeps it mostly to himself though, and you’re doing your best to keep him entertained in any way you can. Despite the months, years, of all the practicing and the training, the novelty of actual sex hasn’t worn off yet for either of you and you can’t deny that you use it to your advantage. 

Nonetheless, just because you’d had sex now didn’t mean Elvis didn’t still like doing other things; your thighs were still slightly sore from where he’d pushed them together to fuck in between last week, cock just about bumping against your folds. He’d gotten you off with his tongue before, ensuring a slick passage - using your own wetness as lubrication. But still, he’d fucked you raw, your inner thighs red and rashed. You knew he’d felt a little guilty about it, watching you run around in your swimsuit, marks clearly visible but it hadn’t stopped him from taking you on the sun-lounger and palming at the marks while he did so, after he’d sent his father and the mafia boys he couldn’t live without away. You should have perhaps been more embarrassed, knowing that they all knew why they’d been sent on a sudden errand, but in actuality you wanted him as much as he did you. Any reservations you might have had had been quickly forgotten as soon as he’d revealed his golden skin in the secluded garden. 

You’d been out to dinner tonight, a fairly casual affair, but still an opportunity to dress up a little - although that dress was now thrown over the back of the bathroom door. You loved to see him in his element, relaxed and happy and it hadn’t taken much, the briefest of touches from your pinky finger on the walk out of the restaurant, a thigh knocking against his in the car for him to get the hint that you wanted to go straight to bed once you returned. He’d stripped you almost immediately as the door shut - barely taking the time to appreciate your special underwear. 

You’re swiftly laid back on the bed, his arms lowering you as he kisses you, and he pulls away to  take a second to look down at all of you. You can’t help but preen a little, pushing your chest up and your hips back as you watch him watch you. He’s slimmer than he was at the start of the year, it shows in the thin corded muscle that surrounds his ribs and in the way his powerful thighs give way to slender shins and legs - you don’t prefer him one way or another, but with his summer tan, sweat glistening across his skin, catching on the hairs on his chest and arms he looks like a goddamn vision. An image you couldn’t have even dreamt up. His hair, that had been so carefully styled in the day, now falling across his forehead - flopping down, you can’t resist reaching up, breaking the lingering silence of both your gazes, twisting a strand in your fingers. 

He presses a kiss to your mouth - going where your hands tug him, before breaking your hold as he pulls back, his fingers sliding into you as he does. You moan at the intrusion but you’re so aroused that they barely catch on your entrance, and a little part of your brain that’s still capable of coherent thought wonders how, barely six months ago you couldn’t even get a finger in and now he’s molded you to him, carved out a space to slot in so perfectly that his fingers can just slip in. He crooks them just so - knowing intimately the exact spots to make you writhe. He takes his time, somehow despite his impatience in literally every other part of his life, he very rarely rushes this - ensuring that you’re not only wanting him by the time he moves on but that you’re desperate. Today is no exception, his other hand comes up to fiddle with a nipple, and you’re already sensitive enough that by the time he rolls one between his fingertips you can’t help but clench on his other hand, a jolt being sent straight down your belly. He continues to slip his fingers in and out of you, spreading them a little before nudging at your entrance with a third. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this now, his penchant for dirty talk still surprises you, he’s incapable of silence constantly muttering praise against your skin. He moves his thumb, rubbing up the slick inner folds of your labia minora to your hitherto neglected clitoris. He’s narrating as he does; 

“That’s it baby, Jesus Christ look at how wet you are - all for me, ain’t that right? Just gotta, gotta find that lil’ button of yours, get the right spot.” And he does. A swipe of his guitar roughened thumb and your body lifts from the bed, hips jerking. He laughs at you, a little cruelly, as your breathing hitches, eyes closing about to beg for more before he pulls his fingers out. 

You shift on the bed, still slightly aghast at how filthy he is - holding his hand up and spreading his fingers, a line of your slick still connecting the two. You watch, breathe catching in your throat as he puts them in his own mouth, eyelashes fluttering. Your hips buck of their own accord and from his position between your spread thighs he presses his other hand on your tummy holding you down. You squirm, and he pulls out his now spit-slicked fingers from his mouth, pressing them back down to your burning core. He slips between the folds of your labia, fingers catching the puffy, wet, skin. 

“I’m…I’m ready - El, please - please.” He grins, eyes still focussed where his fingers continue to play with you. You groan, clenching around nothing, desperate for something - for more. 

He steadies you, lining himself up and pressing into you. You feel every inch, every centimetre of him as he pushes into you until he’s pressed in to the hilt - your legs being forced wider to accommodate him. There’s the hint of a burning stretch, but with barely a finger over your clit you can feel yourself relaxing into him, Little Elvis burrowing into the warm little home he’d created for himself. A home that had lain dormant, until Elvis as Pygmalion had moulded it to his exact dimensions - your vagina, in fact your whole body, his own Galatea. 

He thrusts into you, famous hips doing their job as he grips your thighs and knees. You crunch up, unable to stop yourself, at the mounting pleasure - even though you’re not convinced it could be that attractive to have you thrashing about below him. But he breathes a laugh - it turning into a groan as he pulls out and pushes into you again, your body arching back. 

“How’re you -“ He’s breathless, gasping out the words, “how’re you still so goddamn jumpy, so fucking jumpy like a lil baby rabbit honey, like you still ain’t used to it,” he’s practically just rambling and you zone out, letting his words wash over you as you concentrate just on his tone and the movements of his body in yours. “God that’s fucking it, yes, oh lord, how’s your yittle cunt so tight still, fit me so goddamn perfectly.” You try to clutch at his arms, where he’s holding your waist, and he pulls out, briefly, flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and back to him. You don’t have time to protest, even though you don’t like it on your front as much, your breath snatched away by his sudden manhandling. You turn your face, 

“Oh - El, daddy, I don’t -” He just pulls you back to him though, forcing your legs apart again, and burying himself back into your warm heat. 

“I know, I know baby, but just, just for a little while, give me this -” He sounds moderately apologetic, although not very sincere, its hard to hold a conversation with his cock rocking in and out of you with every roll of his hips but you do your best. 

“Ok, bu-but, but tomorr- “ His hand comes down on your ass - you jump, but can’t help the moan that follows as he interrupts your attempts at bargaining. 

“No baby, you’ll give me it because I want it.” He growls, “Because you’re mine.” His hand comes down again, you can feel the sudden surge of wetness at that, his voice so rough it’s like he’s talking straight to your core. “Say it baby, say you’re mine. We’re married now darlin’. You belong - to - me.” You repeat it back to him, stuttering, promising that you’re;

“I’m - oh - all yours, all yours daddy,” You can hear the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and the feel of his hands gripping into the marks he’d just made, “I’m, oh god, I’m - I belong to you,” 

“Good girl.” You can’t see him, but you just know from his tone that he’s nodded to himself self-satisfactorily. 

Oh,” Your eyes are rolling back in your head as he continues to fuck into you, your nipples catching on the bedspread as your body is dragged back and forth. “Oh fuck, fuck.” He spanks you again, 

“None-a that fucking filthy language from you baby.” You can’t hear the smirk in his voice, too lost in the sensations, babbling an apology; 

“Sorry, sorry, oh-“ He pulls you out again, and you whine at the loss. But soon his hand is back, finger stroking down your labia where you now remain open, puffy lips slipping between his fingers, slick with evidence of your arousal. His fingertips stroke around your tender entrance and you moan, hips grinding in circles, so close to the edge that you can feel it building in your stomach, only he pulls his hand away just at that moment. Elvis flips you onto your back and lowers himself to be just above you, sinking into you again. You’ve been pretty well acquainted with a multitude of different positions now, but you know you both have a soft spot for the simple ones. The ability to watch his face, eyebrows scrunching and mouth falling open, pouty lips pushed forward when his own pleasure mounts. The ability to hold onto his shoulders as he rocks into you, or pull him into a - usually pretty messy - kiss. He’s been dragging it out for so long now that it doesn’t take long for you to feel the edge again, and he reaches down with one hand, slipping it between your sticky sweaty bodies. 

You’ve not managed this many times, only once before - he’s had to get you off with his fingers or tongue before or after, but as he hits just the right angle again, fingers rubbing over your clit in little circles - the internal and external stimulation combining to send you over the edge, body clenching tight. Your hips grind down in circular movements as you clamp down on him, 

“Oh fuck - fuck, fuck baby, that feels so - oh shit, shit.” You feel him suddenly freeze, twitching inside you, the pulse of his sudden spurt of ejaculate deep within you. You pant, interrupting his swearing even as his hips start to move again, 

“Wha- What,” You swallow, trying to talk around a tongue that suddenly feels too big for your mouth, “What was that?” He groans, his hips pressing himself tight against you before he pulls away with a reluctant sigh, rolling over onto his back beside you,

“S’ok, baby, s’ok -  just oh god I just, I couldn’t stop - god you’ve made such a perfect little bitty home for me, Christ darlin’, I couldn’t stop.” He sounds almost a little nervous, and you wriggle, feeling the way your combined wetness was starting to cool. 

“Oh....” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, a steady pulse, you’d liked it. “….do it again. Please?” He collapses, head falling back onto the pillow -

“Darlin’ I can’t just go again,” You frown, 

“Why?" You blink over at him innocently, watching the flush dissipate from his cheekbones, "You make me do it again all the time.” You writhe next him as if to demonstrate your point. His hair flips forward as he shakes his head, rosy cheeks evident. 

“God, baby, men can’t just - I’d hafta, gotta get myself primed again, I can’t just do it again this second.” You pout, feeling it start to slip out of you, the strange combination of its thickness against the thinness of your own orgasm and the tiny bit of sting where it touches your slightly sore entrance. 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind ‘bout that baby honey you gotta," He sounds like he's thinking fast, "gotta push it out at least.” You frown, trying to regain control of your trembling limbs, 

“El- I don’t -“ He interrupts you, 

“Shh darling, listen to me, promise it’ll be fine you just gotta, go on baby…” 

He groans, holding your legs open, leaning over to watch it bubble out of you, dribbling down onto the bedspread. You moan, 

“Oh, El-it’s I can feel it,” 

“That’s it little, quick ‘fore they get swimmin’.” You groan, rolling your hips at the sensation, and he reaches over, long fingers scooping it onto your inner thighs. You feel your tummy twitch with interest and you squirm as he pats at you a couple of times before wiping his hand on the cover. 

“I… I liked that. Maybe… maybe you could do that again sometime.” He chuckles at you, and you both lay there panting for a second, recovering from the exertion and excitement. He gets up first - rolling you off the cover, throwing a washcloth your way - you do a cursory swipe but can’t get up the energy to do much more. Content to lie there as he pulls all the sheets up to make up for the loss of the additional layer of the bedspread. He climbs back into the bed, joining you where your eyelids are starting to droop closed. 

His arms wrap around you, as he rolls into you, pulling you close to growl into your ear, “Jesus baby, where did that come from? You goddamn little minx,” He puts on a high-pitched voice, “What was that Elvis? Do it again!” You were pretending to be asleep, eyes tightly closed but you can’t help but snicker, his fingers finding their way under your rib cage - digging in, tickling you as you give up the pretense of sleep, caught out, squirming around and giggling. 

tags:

@thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @vintageshanny

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #be-my-ally #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #writing prompt game #elvis request fill!