#questions encouraged teehee

[sins0fthefather]

Wrath.

Jeff the Killer HCs:

General HCs:

Full Name: Jeffrey Alexander Woods (Only responds to Jeff though. Best case scenario if you call him his full name is he’ll ignore you, worst case scenario is him flipping his shit on you)

Age: 22-25 (Based on where in the story a character study/fic takes place)

Birthday: September 22 (Older than Liu by 2 years)

Wasian— Father is Chinese, mother is a born n’ raised Texan

Biromantic, Demisexual

Has autism, C-PTSD, BPD (contributor to his auditory hallucinations), NPD, ASPD, and BDD

Right Handed

6’1 (185~ cm)

Covered in burn scars, most noticeably on his chest, forearms, and back

He uses white facepaint, it makes his face’s silhouette look “cleaner” in his eyes

His cuts have healed up for the most part, although he’ll have moments where he relapses and cuts at them again. The ends will also sometimes tear if he does something like laugh too hard.

Very touchy with other people, but he despises being touched first. He prefers to initiate physical contact- both because of the control aspect of it and because of his general distrust of others.

His sense of humor waxes and wanes from extreme condescension to the most morbid sentences you’ve ever heard. Half of the time it doesn’t even sound like a joke.

Reckless driver, cursed with terrible road rage

Smokes cigarettes, his brand of choice is Marlboro

Drinks vodka straight as if it were water

I feel like his favorite band would be Tool or Slipknot. His music taste is just metal and dad rock.

Was brought up in a Catholic school for most of his life, although he obviously doesn’t keep up with the practice anymore. This is a big catalyst for why he develops a god complex however since he “has authority over life and death”— something unique only to gods from what he was taught.

Very observant of the people around him. He memorizes speech patterns, demeanors, even the way people walk. He’s gotten to the point where he can read people and their intentions well before they’re explicitly stated, making it much easier for him to spot a lie. However this also makes it much easier for him to tell when he’s truly pushing somebody’s buttons, and there’s nothing he loves more than pushing people past their limit.

Always stealing glances of himself in any mirror he walks past

He’s an opportunistic killer. Limiting himself to patterns clashes with the creativity and the thrill of the moment to him. However, there are specific elements of a kill he will often repeat if the mood strikes him. An example of this would be often including strangulation (albeit usually not the direct cause of death) to reflect his acquired need for control in all moments of his life. Sometimes he will also pose bodies in a “prayer” position to call back that god complex I mentioned.

He doesn’t always kill people immediately. If someone catches his eye, usually because he finds them beautiful in some aspect, he’ll take it a step further. He has no problem with being patient when the situation arises for it- stalking the person, learning their habits and schedules, the whole shebang. He’ll then slowly start to ruin said person’s life, isolating them through the slaughter of those closest to them and destroying any sense of peace and security they once had. He’s the sound that goes -bump- in the night. He’ll toy with his food until he eventually grows bored, disposing them like all the rest. After all, how dare someone else try to be beautiful in his presence- a punishment of the highest order is necessary.

His anger can be very… explosive. He doesn’t stick around very long for enough people besides victims to see it, but it can be as unpredictable as his own kills. It’s worse when he’s silent in his anger however, since with the former you at least have enough of a warning to brace yourself.

Backstory-Centric HCs:

(TW: csa, murder, mutilation, religious trauma, general stuff)

Takes place in college. Jeff is 22 at the start while Liu is 20.

Instead of being a one-off instance, Jeff and Liu have been subjected to bullying/borderline harassment since middle school. This builds up Jeff’s gradual distrust of others and leads to him shutting himself off from his peers.

Most of said bullying revolved around their mixed race situation. It only got worse as Jeff shut himself off and Liu became a people pleaser.

The two didn’t even have peace at home, since their parents were sexually abusive and excused it through their religion. It was “all apart of god’s love” as they said. This + the bullying leads Liu to develop DID and kickstarts Jeff’s resentment towards their parents. It also led Jeff to develop a twisted belief on what love and beauty is since god apparently “favored” the beauty of his parent’s form of “love.”

On one particular instance of bullying/harassment, a small group of people he grew up with planned on jumping and mugging Jeff behind a bar. Things escalated when Jeff retaliated in self defense, beating his aggressors with a nearby pipe found laying against a dumpster. He didn’t leave unscathed however, since one of the attackers dropped a lighter into the flammable materials (alcohol, trash, etc) that had been scattered in the fight, planning on making everyone go down in that moment. Jeff managed to survive (albeit with severe burns along his body) after being found by an employee who went to go check out the noise/smell of smoke, but the others succumbed to their wounds.

While in a heavy state of shock and psychosis (paired with being drugged up out the wazoo at the hospital) his usual unchecked auditory hallucinations worsened, leading his mind to trick him into believing this situation was a sign from god- that he was supposed to survive while his tormentors burned. Paired with his already twisted concepts of love and beauty, he began to believe that his burns were part of god’s plan to make him more beautiful- because he was favored.

This only gets worse when he’s released from the hospital’s custody due to a neglect in checking his mental state. After being sent home with his family and therefore being thrown back into the abusive environment he hoped to escape when going to college he ends up experiencing a psychotic break, mutilating himself in the process.

When his parents catch him, they attack him. In their eyes he had disgraced them, no longer upholding the “beauty” of heaven that they enforced. He ends up killing them in self defense, but furthers it by mutilating their bodies in an act of defiance induced by his break. He believes he’s outdone god in this moment, deluding himself into thinking he’s on the same level (or even better) than god.

While overcome by his psychotic break, he ends up severely wounding Liu after he wakes up to check out the noise. It becomes a conspiracy on if Liu survived or not since his body was never found by authorities.

The reason why Jeff continues on his spree after these instances is the feel of control he gets. After being forced into submission by those around him for so long, he finally feels a stable sense of power over those he deems as less than him.

He ends up wandering throughout the states after this, hopping from town to town. He never stays in one place for long, although sometimes he’ll revisit his home town to give the urban legend fanatics something to fear again.

#long post woo #questions encouraged teehee #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta/you #creepypasta #headcanon #headcanons #jeffrey woods #homicidal liu #rewrite #writers on tumblr #the autism is autisming

[sttoru]

toji x nympho reader 🤭

⟣ tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut. overstimulation, creampies, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, daddy kink, slight slapping, cum play, blowjobs, thigh riding, fingering, positions mentioned; cowgirl, doggy. he’s mean sometimes teehee. reader gets called ‘doll & princess’. separate headcanons + small drabbles under cut.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was sure of it; no woman could ever keep up with his stamina or libido. he was surprisingly proven wrong when he met you—your sexual desires were almost too much to keep up with. that last statement goes for the average man, at least.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was no regular man at all. in many ways. and especially when it comes to sex and all that it comes with. with all his experience, he knew just the right techniques to satisfy a woman and keep her entertained for a long time. plus, his stamina and size were no joke due to his constant training and bulky physique.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 never misses on the opportunity of satisfying your needs. you could wake him up at 3 a.m with the question if he could help with you with a certain ‘problem’ and he’ll grunt—surely—but doesn’t hesitate to roll over on his back and let you pull his boxers down whilst encouraging you to ride him in an exhausted manner.

“c’mon, weren’t you the one asking if you could fuck y’rself on my cock? ya either do it right or get off.” mean as always. but somehow, it increased the pleasure you were feeling already—that hoarse, raspy morning voice of toji’s echoes in your ear with each sentence uttered. it was even hotter when he’d grunt or groan under his breath. toji had one hand on your ass, squeezing or lazily spanking it whenever your hips slammed down on his. his other arm was draped over his eyes, keeping them closed since he was in the mood to continue sleeping—basically half-asleep, in contrast to your energy filled body which was riding his cock continuously. “mhmm, jus’ like that. fuck y’rself dumb on my dick, princess.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 knows you get turned on very easily just from him doing the most simplest of things. what really gets you going is his body—the way his big, masculine hands knead at the flesh on your waist whenever he hugs you from behind, the veins running through them making your pussy tingle. . or when he stretches and warms up in your bedroom before going on a mission—that makes you rub your thighs together. and you make it known that you’re turned on by him just by looking at him with those seductive eyes.

and 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 can’t deny that your horniness awakens his.

ass up, face down—your body was getting pounded into the bed by none other than toji, who was fed up with the constant lustful looks you gave him whilst he worked out. it made him lose all concentration, which wasn’t good, since he needed to prepare for a bounty he was going to take on that night. thus, toji took out his frustrations on you and your greedy cunt; “ya hear that? y’re fuckin’ dripping for this cock to fill ya up—yeah? wan’ me to fuck some of my cum into y’r cunt before i go?” you whine and nod whilst your noises were muffled by the pillow. your body ached for toji and you were desperate to get anything from him, any sensual touches would do—your pussy was sensitive and needed its release. toji knew that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just one round, however, so he was determined to go make it a challenge: fuck you until you’re leaking his cum from all your holes and passed out from exhaustion.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 loves it when you shamelessly or shyly beg him to suck his dick. you do it most of the time when he’s manspreading on the couch, just chilling and looking bored whilst watching a dumb show on the television. next thing he knows your head appears between his legs and his fingers are tangled in your hair, pushing your head down on him. sometimes it even happens in public; he’ll be sitting there on a chair or bench, a protective hand on your waist and your eyes would be directly on his crotch. he doesn’t even have to be hard—there’s always that massive bulge hiding under his pants, reminding you of what he’s packing down there.

“fuck. . doll—y’re gnna make me cum before i get a taste of that pretty pussy.” toji grumbles quietly, half closed eyes staring down at your kneeling form. you were sucking and drooling all over his cock, sometimes gagging when the tip hit the far back of your throat, though that only spurred the man before you on. his hips buck up into your mouth, your hands automatically clenching into fists, putting your thumb under your other fingers to stop your gag reflex from activating—desperate to give toji that pleasure he longed for. the man was surely enjoying every second of it. he kept you quiet (except for the faint wet, slurping sounds from your warm mouth as his cock slid in and out of it), his lips curled into an amused smirk, “tha’s my girl—taking all of it in her mouth. what a good little thing.” toji made sure to whisper those words, not caring if somebody heard what was happening from outside the department store’s bathroom stall, but still wanting to avoid any unnecessary trouble. he was actually holding himself back from ravaging your cunt instead—though he settles for shooting ropes of cum down your throat.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, who gets off from eating you out. he loves to have your cunt full out on his face—adores the way you squirm when he’s pushing your thighs and hips down on his face to get a proper taste of your slick—enjoys when he’s just relaxing with his mouth and nose stuffed between your folds, giving absent licks whilst simply enjoying your scent. he especially loves eating your cunt out when you’re begging for his cock instead. he always shows you just what he can do with that tongue of his—bringing you a different type of pleasure than his dick could do.

one moment you were reading something on your phone, and in the other your man’s face was buried into your wet cunt. you were moaning and writhing on the bed sheets, trying to grind against his mouth. toji was taking his sweet time with you, “mmnh, so fuckin’ good. give me one more, yeah? one more orgasm f’me, princess.” that was what he said minutes ago and you were already on your third climax. you loved this—absolutely relinquished in the feeling of his tongue lapping your juices up, his lips that sucked on your clit every couple seconds, nose buried between your folds. “nghhh,, wan’ you so bad, daddy! wan’ you to fuck me, please!” toji chuckles drlyly, the vibrations hitting your cunt. two slaps were brought down upon your thighs; “i’ll fuck y’r needy self when i wanna, ya hear? now cum on my tongue or i’ll force it outta ya, princess.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, who loves to finger you or let you ride his thigh when he’s busy but still wants to keep you satisfied. you’d be whining for his attention, pouting and slightly frustrated when all you want toji’s attention. and his touch, naturally. sometimes you’d go as far as stroking yourself in front of him to show your desperation— which he finds to be the hottest thing ever; you being so needy that you’ll thrust a few fingers inside your cunt and moan for him to come fuck you properly. works every time. but when toji’s a bit too busy to do anything (or too tired / lazy), he gets you off with his thigh or fingers.

“i need to call shiu for info on that one bounty. .” toji recalls and grabs his phone, one hand on his mobile whilst the other was slowly cupping your pussy, thumb drawing lazy circles on your clit, index rubbing your labia. you whine as his hand there disappears, “gimme a minute, sweet thing.” toji licks his index finger whilst pressing some buttons on his phone, head leaning against the headboard of the bed as he watches you impatiently grind against his muscular thigh. he lets you do as you please and watches your ass and hips as they move in front of him. toji tenses the muscles in his leg whenever your clothed pussy slides alongside his skin, bouncing his thigh whenever you’d rest and take a break from grinding—keeping the stimulation going— “giving me a good show, huh? keep at it. might reward ya after my phone call.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #toji x you

[mistydeyes]

hollow apologies and avoiding glances

a continuation of this request

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summary: Months after your release from the 141, you try to acclimate to life back on base. Despite time, therapy, and medication, you still are haunted by ghosts that cloud your everyday life.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

a/n: HOLY SHIT I didn't think this would take off like it did! thank you all so much for all the love and requests to have a followup to my initial request <3

 💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque

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You felt the cold tile imprint on your face as Ghost loomed over you. The small shallow cuts on your cheek pooled in a sea of crimson iron on the linoleum flooring. "Please," you choked out for the thousandth time, "I promise you it's not me." Your quiet pleas for respite from the torture were met by the harsh tug at your hair. "And I promise you this won't end until you tell us what you want," he spat in your face. As he violently let you fall back to the ground, you braced yourself for another round of terror.

"Did you hear me, Sergeant?" the therapist's voice echoed in your ears. You blinked as you stared back at her, balancing your trembling hands on the table. "I'm sorry, what was the question?" you asked as you gazed shamefully at the light silver cuts that decorated your forearms. "Have you done anything nice for yourself recently?" she repeated, "go on any walks, read a new book, try a new recipe?" You tried to think of the positives during the last year but none came to mind. "I started gardening," you lied through your teeth and she nodded in respect to your answer. "That's good," she encouraged and you just wanted this to be over. "Is that all for today, Captain?" you quietly asked, "I just want to go back to my quarters." She had a tightlipped smile as she gestured that your time was done. As you got up and gripped the door handle, she had one last comment. "You can't bury yourself in work, you know," she said quietly as you looked at her, "it's not healthy." You shook your head as you entered back into the hallway. "God how fucking pathetic," you whispered, trying to hold back another barrage of tears. The least you could do was go back to your quarters and drown in the minimal comfort of sleep.

As your boots clattered on the linoleum tile, you avoided the prying eyes of your colleagues. Despite your temporary disability leave and passing numerous psych examinations, everyone knew what happened to you. Whispers reached even the highest ranks and you left the sympathy flowers out to die in the trash. You ignored the phone calls and voicemails from your previous team, even denying Laswell visits to your hospital room. When you returned, no one ever uttered a word but their gazes pierced into you whenever you walked out of your room. It was humiliating but was nothing compared to the flashes of terror when you saw the faces of your old team around the base. You had taken a desk position, something far from your skills on the field, but it was all that you could handle for the moment. However, you still brushed paths with them once in a while, walking briskly when you saw their faces emerge from a crowd. Once, Gaz tried to come up to you to offer an apology after you were issued an official one from the military. However, a strong slap to the face and a fast-paced sprint in the opposite direction was all that was needed to tell them to stay away.

"This can end if you tell us where he is," Ghost whispered in your ear. You shook your head violently and bit your lip as your face was met with a hard slap. The pain shot through your body as he followed up with a punch directly to the gut. Your ears rang with static as he gripped your chin in his bloodied, gloved hand. "That's not the answer I want, Eclipse," he said through gritted teeth, holding your face painfully. As your eyes pricked with tears in agony, he released his grip. "You're fucking pathetic," he spat, "a double agent caught so easily." You stopped resisting with words from that moment on. Despite all attempts to reason, the chance of your survival grew ever slimmer and it all depended on the actions of one man.

Your solemn walk back to your room was interrupted by the hard wall of a figure. "I'm sorry," you said looking up but your heart dropped when you saw who you ran into. It wasn't the mask that made you realize who it was but the cold, unforgiving eyes of one, Simon Riley. Out of all the visits and calls you received, you never heard a word from him. He haunted you and in some cynical way, he was a ghost both in namesake and person. As you backed away in sheer terror, you kept repeating a string of apologies and incoherent tearful babbles. He took a step towards you as you stood in absolute fear. "Please, please don't come near me," you whispered, clutching the wall as your legs began to tremble with adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I just want to talk, Y/N," he said with an unsettling amount go kindness in his tone, "I-I didn't realize you were back from leave." With the late word, you could feel something inside you break. It wasn't seeing the rest of the 141 that sent you over the edge, it was the fact that he was staring at you with the same bitter gaze that sent your blood into a fever pitch. Your feelings of terror morphed into ones of anger and absolute fury.

"You didn't realize?" you shouted, not caring about how your voice echoed through the halls, "like you even fucking cared in the first place." His eyes darted around your figure and your tears grew like molten lava on your face. "No amount of apologies or therapy or goddamn medication will ever make me forget about what you put me through," you continued, throwing a frustrated punch directly to his chest, "you fucking broke me, Simon." With that final statement, you could feel all semblance of anger and fear dissolve into emptiness. You had dreamed of an altercation, one where you could finally release all of the frustration and nightmares you had endured. But now with Simon standing in front of you, you felt as minuscule as ever. You never left that empty abyss of a room and no matter how hard you tried, he would still be that horrifying presence looming over you. As he stood there, words never coming to the surface, you pushed past him without a second look. "Try to talk to me again and I'll have a restraining order for you," you spat angrily, "and you can tell the rest of the 141 my stance."

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #izzie is writing #eclipse!series

[lenacosse]

Worst behaviour

pairing: theo nott x fem reader (no mention of y/n)

cw: smut (sub theo), alcohol, violence and strong language

word count: 2,033

summary: your bf theo is being flirty with other girls, so you give him payback. he doesn’t like that and starts a fight, which somehow leads to him being a submissive mess teehee.

a/n: dedicated to the biggest twink ever enjoy ;)

‘i been on my worst behaviour

but, baby, i don’t need no saviour

i’m way outta line

but i kind of like the way i

feel when i just don’t give a fuck’

════════════════

The scent of sweat and cheap booze fill your nose as you push through the tangle of bodies to make your way over to the drink station. You scope the area in attempt to find either your friends or your boyfriend, after pouring your drink you catch the eyes of your boyfriend, Theo Nott who’s sprawled out on the sofa with two gorgeous looking girls. He’s smoking a joint and one of the girls is whispering something in his ear. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the great betrayal in front of you, the anger was bubbling inside of you ready to overspill and cause you to lose your shit. But you ultimately realised this was just a Theo thing to do, would he actually cheat? Absolutely not. But were you going to make him get onto his knees and beg to even be around you after tonight? Absolutely.

In one swift movement you downed your drink, shaking off the burn of alcohol as you adjust your top to show more cleavage. One final look in Theo’s direct only fuelled your fire further. You discarded off your cup and made your way back into the crowd, the Slytherin common room where you currently stand is far from empty. The only time all the houses can comfortably come together is in light of a party, no one cared what your status or your house was on nights like these. All everyone wanted was to get absolutely piss drunk to the point they couldn’t remember their own names, and that to you was nothing short of exciting.

The radio from across the room played its classic pop hits, one’s that had your hips swaying and your head thumping. Beside you was Cormac Mclaggen, the most egotistical bastard you knew, that made him perfect for your aim. Slowly you brushed your arm over his bicep, this catches his attention to lock eyes with you. A sly smirk plastered over your mouth whilst you moved closer, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Hey,” Cormac slurred, his hands rested on your hips. Not daring to dip any further just yet.

“Shhh.” You moved your free hand to his mouth putting your finger on his lip to shut him up. His grip tightened on your hips as you sway your body to the beat. Looking over his shoulder you spot Theo at the drink station, helping himself.

Theo locks eyes with you, sending you a flirtatious wink. That is until he noticed your arms around Cormac, his expression changed to one almost unrecognisable he was undoubtedly furious, his look could kill. This only encouraged you to grind up on Cormac and move your hand into his hair gripping on in. In turn he grabbed your ass pulling you even closer into him so there wasn’t even an inch between your bodies. You moved your gaze back to where Theo was, yet he wasn’t there. As if on cue Cormac fell to the floor, you set your eyes on Theo who had his fists balled ready to punch.

Cormac scurried to his feet only to be immediately knocked down by Theo’s punch. Around you a circle had formed of drunk teenagers encouraging this fight. A tang of guilt washed through you as your gaze met Theo’s bitter glare. Before he could get another punch in you grabbed his arm and with all your strength dragged him out. As soon as you were in the corridor he pinned you against the wall.

“The fuck you playing at?” Theo fumed, his hot breath caressing your cheek as one of his legs rested between your thighs.

“Could ask you the same question.” You shoved him off you and walked off down the halls, your only want was to go to your dorm.

“What?” Theo sighed and followed after you, he was at your heel as you walked. “Ask me the same question? I wasn’t the one grinding against Cormac Fucking Mclaggen.”

“Well fucking spotted Nott I’d be concerned if you were.” You sneer, your speed only increasing as you stomp up the stairs.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh as he continued to follow you. “Would you talk to me for fuck sake? Why are you doing this to me?! You can’t just get on with someone else right in front of my eyes.”

You let out a breathy laugh and stop in your tracks. You turn around and cross you arms. “Oh so the boundaries only apply to me hm?”

“What are you on about?”

You just sigh and continue walking, you make it to your door and walk in. You attempt to slam it behind you but Theo catches it and walks in.

“Piss off Theo.”

“No not until you tell me what the fuck you’re talking about.” With that you grab his collar and slam him against the door.

“I fucking told you to piss off. You want to go fuck other girls? Be my guest.” You sneer. You drop his collar and look at him you expected to see him riled up but he was just staring at you so intensely you felt your cheeks heat up.

“You know I’d never cheat on you.”

“Doesn’t seem that way.”

Theo reached out to grab your waist but you pushed him off.

“Don’t. Just go away.”

“Im sorry, I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

“Piss me off?” You scoff. “Theo it took everything in me not to fucking slaughter you.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Then leave. I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“Come on baby please.” Theo grabbed your waist again, running his hands up and down your hips. His mouth brushed lightly over your neck. Making you shudder.

“No.” You pushed him off and took a few steps back, you knew at the rate he was turning you on you were close to giving in, but you wanted to make him graft for it.

“Please,” his voice came out in a soft whisper and he moved closer to you. You sighed as you crossed your arms, you expected him to just give up but he dropped to his knees.

“Theo.. get up.”

“No, I’m not moving until you forgive me.”

You roll your eyes and stare at him. “You’ll be there for awhile. Do you even have any idea how fucked off I am with you having constant fucking attention? All those girls flirting with you and giggling at your stupid fucking jokes. God! You drive me insane.”

Theo grabbed onto your thighs, caressing them as he stared up at you with the most fuckable expression you’ve ever saw. His eyes were pleading for forgiveness and his mouth was ever so slightly dressed with a frown.

“They don’t matter. I’m yours. Through and through.” His hand inched closer to under your skirt and you sucked in a breath.

“How did you feel whenever I was all over Cormac? Did it piss you off? Make you feel like shit? Cause that’s how I felt.”

“I’m so sorry princess. Just wanna make it up to you.” Theo replied as he kissed your inner thigh. You let out a soft groan but instantly moved back.

“Get on the bed.”

Theo just smirked at you and got on your bed. You striped down to just your bra and underwear as you straddled him, his hands instantly went to your hips.

“No. You’re not allowed to touch me.”

“…baby.”

“Should’ve thought about it beforehand.” You smirked as you started to underdress him. You went painfully slow, taking your time to tease him. Underneath you, you could feel him rock hard.

You got off his lap and kneeled in between his legs slowly pulling down his boxers. His throbbing cock came out, you could tell he was painfully turned on and you had no intention on making that easier for him.

“You do not cum until I say so. Got it?” You immediately attach your lips to his tip and start sucking him off.

“Y-yes, fuck.” Theo moaned, the noise making your stomach flip.

You sped up your movements, making sure your pleasuring every single part of him to the point he’s gripping the sheets in attempt to distract from the pleasure. You look up at him your eyes stern as you slowly pull back, bitting your lips as you remove your bra. You could tell he was close and was trying his hardest to obey you. His forehead had a layer of sweat and his eyes were glistening with tears. You went back down again, this time you worked him hard. You ran your tongue over his most sensitive part which caused a pornographic moan to escape his mouth, you caressed his balls which had his knuckles turning white whilst his jaw clenched.

“Please baby. I can’t hold it much longer, please let me cum.”

“No. You haven’t proven to me you’re sorry just yet,” you respond as you pull back from him. You slide your underwear off as you straddle him once again.

“I’ll do anything please, at least let me touch you.” He pleaded, his voice was hoarse and needy. You would be lying if you said you weren’t turned on more than ever. But you had to maintain your cause.

“The more you ask the worse this’ll be. Just shut you mouth and do as your told,” you lean forward attaching your lips to his neck softly sucking. As you hit his sweet spot he lets out a deep groan that has you clenching around nothing.

Slowly you move off his neck admiring the many hickeys you left in place and you grab his jaw, forcefully making him look at you.

“You’re mine. Never let me catch you so much as even talking to another girl or I’ll make you suffer.”

“Im yours princess. No one else’s.”

“That’s right,” you kiss him harshly as you move your hips to hover over his cock.

You slide down onto him letting him fill you up. His perfect length makes your eyes roll back as you move away from the kiss, you grab his shoulders and move yourself on him. Your movements are so needy and frantic that the bed rapidly pounds off the wall, you were sure anyone could hear you both but you didn’t care. It showed everyone what was yours. Your nails racked down his chest, leaving agitated hot red marks carved into his skin. You watched as Theo struggled to stay intact, you could feel his cock fighting furiously to hold back. His moans solidified it, they were messy and hot as was he right now. His eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw furiously twitching. You went faster on him chasing that release, the pleasure built up inside of you as you gripped onto the head board. Your hips rapidly slammed down on top of his as you felt yourself quickly losing control. Finally you came hard over him, moaning incoherent thoughts as you rid out your high.

You lifted yourself off him and went in between his legs again, his tip was furiously swollen and he was painfully hard. You slowly ran your tongue over his tip making him hiss in response.

“Please- I can’t anymore.” Theo moaned. “Need to cum, fuck it hurts.”

“If you want to cum Theo you can beg for it.” You smirk running you hand up and down his cock slowly.

“Please, please let me cum. I’ll never disrespect you again, please princess. Im so sorry, I just need your mouth so so bad.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard was it.”

You hum and suck him off again, barely five seconds later he came down your throat with a strident moan. Slowly you pulled back swallowing it all, the sight before you was quite literally heavenly. Theo’s face was covered in utter bliss, his eyes were sunken in and relaxed and his usually tame hair was anything but. He looked at you with a bashful grin, which made you feel warmth.

“We good now?” Theo questioned.

“Absolutely,” you grinned and kissed him softly. The two of you settled down together forgetting all feelings of jealousy and resentment.

#theo nott #fanfic #fanfiction #theodore nott #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott scenario #theo nott fluff #slytherin #slytherin fic #smut #smut light plot #harry potter smut #angst #fluff #hp fandom #hp fanfic

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

Watching Horror Movies Together

Super Short Headcanons || Modern Au

Genre: Fluff Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: None - super casual writing

AN: I know no one requested this but I was on a horror binge last night and couldn't stop thinking about how these guys would act during a scary movie marathon so I wrote a quick thing in my notes app to post teehee~ ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Is not scared at all - literally impossible to scare.

Thinks horror movies are predictable and kind of boring.

However, God forbid a dog dies in the movie because he will get up and turn it off and say that the writers went too far.

Grumbles and groans on movie nights where you choose a horror movie, but will always wrap an arm around you and insist of sharing a blanket because he just likes spending time with you and being able to hold you close.

Will tease you for your bad taste in movies but secretly loves watching them with you and finds himself getting sucked into them every now and then.

John Marston:

Is on the edge of his seat the whole time.

Claims he's watching them because he thinks they're funny, but actually really enjoys trying to figure out who the killer is and who's going to die when and where.

Jumps at every jump scare but acts like he didn't.

He needs to watch a Disney movie afterwards so he doesn't have nightmares. Will say it's for your sake and not his, though.

Man acts all big and bad, but once the music starts to get intense and there's a long hallway on the screen he is looking everywhere but at the TV so he isn't jumpscared again.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Probably taking notes during psychological horror movies on how to be manipulative.

Says the killer is misunderstood or that their tragic backstory makes the killing justified.

He will eat all the popcorn and then get upset when it's all gone. Cue the puppy eyes while he's begging you to go make more.

Spends a good forty-five minutes talking about how you and him would survive the movie because y'all are so much smarter than the main characters and would make it out of there.

Genuinely believes he's invincible and could survive any scenario.

Javier Escuella:

HATES horror movies because they genuinely scare him.

Well, he can handle slashers but he hates paranormal movies since he believes in ghosts 100% no questions asked.

Loves making a snack buffet for the movie - popcorn, candy, cookies, sodas, fries, and the works.

Encourages you to cuddle into him and hold him whenever you get too scared since he's so big and brave.

Will end up being the one hiding his face in your shoulder and holding you like a teddy bear because he got freaked out.

Charles Smith:

Loves to analyze horror movies in -like- an artistic way.

His favorite types are historical horrors because so much thought goes into them.

He will watch silly horror with you, though, like Scream and Tucker and Dale vs. Evil, but will spend the whole movie making fun of you. Lightheartedly, of course, he's saying that those aren't real scary movies and that you're kind of a wuss.

The entire movie his arm is wrapped around you and pressing you deep into his side so that you can cuddle and be warm. It's a little too comfortable though and you end up falling asleep there more often than not.

Loves it when you do that, it makes him feel all soft and warm on the inside.

Sean MacGuire:

Makes jokes the entire time.

Literally has something to say every 2 minutes that has the both of you laughing instead of being scared.

Honestly, it's the only way he can get through the whole movie.

If you start getting sucked into the movie and he's too nervous to fully focus on the screen, he will start throwing popcorn at you to get your attention.

Halfway through the movie he will make you pause it so that he can have a mental break from all the scary stuff and gore. Totally turns into a make-out session and the movie is long forgotten.

Sadie Adler:

Absolutely nothing fazes her, she LOVES scary movies.

She knows all the behind-the-scenes info about every movie you watch too because she deep dives into interviews and essays after watching them the first time.

Her eyes are glued to the screen but will have you lay your head in her lap so she can run her fingers through your hair to soothe you when you get scared.

Makes fun of you when you react at a jump scare. When you look up at her with a frown, she'll press kisses all over your face until you can't help but smile.

She loves that she can make you feel comforted and safe when you're scared, secretly loves it even more when you try to go to bed after the movie and you're clinging to her like a koala because you're still a little spooked by the film.

<><><><>

I know summer isn't even close to over yet, but I am so excited for Halloween this year, so here's a little Halloween in July (think like that Gravity Falls episode)

Hope you enjoyed <3

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #john marston #john marston x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde #charles smith #charles smith x reader #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #sean macguire x reader #sean macguire #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler #rdr2 headcanons

[pileofmush]

i have a request for a luffy drabble!! i think he should be making a list/writing a love letter to you specifically :) what would he say?? 🫠💕

details ➸ tags: nothin but fluff! self-indulgent, teehee. // wc 0.7k

a/n ➸ this request is so cute! i'm melting. ty kitty for asking the real questions here.

Hey. Don’t throw this away, okay? This is important. 

Read this now. 

Duh, Usopp says. Of course you’re reading this right now. He says he’s a very reputable source in the affairs of love—just look at him and Kaya. I dunno what that all means, but I guess he knows what he’s talking about. 

Usopp says I should just tell you how I feel. I do that everyday, but he says maybe writing it down would be helpful. You're the one with the fancy words, not me, but I'll give it a try.

So! Finish reading this. 

And then read it again when you start to think too much about things that don’t matter. Don’t pretend you don’t do that. I know you, and there’s no point lying to a sheet of paper. So when you go quiet like you sometimes do, and your thoughts start to hurt you, follow my instructions and read this. Then come find me and ask for a hug. ‘Kay? Captain’s orders. 

HERE’S SEVEN THINGS I LIKE ABOUT YOU! YES, YOU.

1. Your smile!

Sanji could probably go on and on about how you’re gorgeous, stunning, beautiful—all those words—when you smile. And all those things are true! But you’re also the most… you. When you smile.

You have different kinds of smiles: big ones! Small ones! Encouraging ones! Those smiles that mean you know something I don’t, and you can’t keep it in much longer.

But what I like best about your smiles is when they’re just for me. It feels a bit like a secret. And I don’t like keeping secrets, but I don’t mind those secret smiles you share with me. 

2. Your laugh!

Your laugh is so… What’s the word? Contagious. That’s it. You are contagious. Just like your laugh. I like it when you bite your lip to try to hold it in, and when it bursts out anyway. I don’t know why you try. Nothing in the world sounds better than your hyena cackle, trust me. You’d give evil witches a run for their money. 

You like to look at me whenever you laugh, I’ve noticed. Like you wanna know if I find it funny too. I don’t think you even mean to do it. You just do. But that’s okay. I’m usually already looking at you.

3. You’re easy to pick up! 

If I’m not supposed to throw you over my shoulder and run, why do you make it so easy? 

4. You’re expressive!

You like to think you’re so mysterious. Too bad! You’re wrong. I know those books you like to read aren’t “intellectual” like you say they are. Pretty sure they wouldn’t make you squeal and cover your face with your hands if they were. I wish you wouldn’t cover it. I like the faces you make when you’re nervous. 

You’re probably nervous right now, aren’t you? You’re so easy to rile up! I like that about you, too. You get sort of mad, sort of not when I point it out. Your eyebrows scrunch and your mouth curves up and you cross your arms, all firm. I never know if you wanna kiss me or hit me. It’s cute. And fun. But wow, do you get a potty mouth when you're really nervous. Your words turn sharp and so does your stare, like you wanna cut me open with your eyes. Like it’s my fault that you’re stuttering out a quick, “Shut the fuck up.” Yeesh. You almost hurt my feelings there!

Just kidding. 

5. You’re loud!

Even when you’re quiet. Especially when you’re not. 

I like your voice. I like how it sounds when you just wake up. I like it when you finally sing the song you’ve been humming all day. I like it when you organize your thoughts out loud, and when you tell me about a joke Franky made earlier, and when you get real close and whisper things only meant for me to hear. 

Sometimes, when I think, it’s your voice I’m thinking in. I like that, too. 

So be even louder for me. Okay? ‘Cause everything you say is special, and I wanna hear it all. 

6. You’re patient! 

And kind. And smart and funny and mine. 

7. You’re everything. 

I like you ‘cause I like you. Isn’t it obvious? It’s not like I try to hide it.

So don’t hide from me. 

—Luffy

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖ #this is me writing as luffy writing to me... inception #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #fluff #one piece fluff #m.luffy #m.op #off the cuff;

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

ñuhus prūmӯs (my heart) │Chapter 9: Reconciliation (NSFW!)

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 │Chapter 11 │Chapter 12 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Childbirth is the duty and dismay of all highborn women. Together, you and Daemon experience the trials, tribulations and triumphs of expectant parenthood. You mend a broken bond.

(Set post-episode 7, though Daemon never married Laena or Rhaenyra.)

Thank you to @angelqueen04​​​, @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ and @ajthefujoshi​ for holding my hand throughout the drafting, teehee!

Triggers: incest, age gap, purity culture, detailed depictions of pregnancy, discussion of abortion, medieval beliefs on abortifacients and contraceptives.

You leave under the cover of darkness.

So scattered and stunned are you that you do not think to question being roused by a wide-eyed Bethany and dressed by a yawning Jeyne, led slowly from your chambers with Daeron all but nodding off at your side, conveyed down the stairs and out to the courtyard where Daemon and the wheelhouse await. The particulars seem unimportant. You drowse on his shoulder all the way to the harbour, where the ship is docked and ready. When you are brought aboard and borne to your quarters for the journey, you fall immediately back to sleep.

It is as though some kind of spell has lifted when you awaken once again. You blink as you take in your surroundings: the wood-grain slats spanning up the walls and along the ceiling in shades of tawny richness; the light streaming brightly through the windows adorned with damask curtains of crimson, in complement to the vast rug of Targaryen red and black rolled across the floor; and the subtle signs of Daemon’s presence, from the overcoat carelessly tossed across the back of a chair to Dark Sister placed in her sheath on the table, belt and all. It is the first time in days that you truly see the world around you.

There is something cursed about the capital, you muse absently to yourself. Something strange and unnatural that seeks to steal the joy from all who enter it.

You startle slightly at the sound of your name. “You frightened me.”

Truthfully, you are more than a little relieved to have Daemon in your presence, wanting little else but the surety of your husband by your side. He smiles as he approaches, gentle steps rather than the strident thud of boots against the floor that you are so used to. Your mournful mood has unnerved him greatly.

Poor, poor kepa.

“How do you feel?” he asks, obligingly slotting a hand behind your back as you struggle to pull yourself upright. You wince at the catch and snarl of fabric over your nipples, the sensation of something sticky being ripped from flesh too quickly, sharp and stinging. At the sight of your grimace and the sound of your frustrated huffs as you try and fail to find a comfortable position to sit in, he settles himself along the pillows behind you and coaxes you to lean back against him. He is warm and firm and smells of all the things you love, of smoke and leather and something intrinsically masculine and safe. His lips find the shell of your ear. “Hm?”

You had forgotten to answer. “I am well,” you say.

Grabbing for his hand, you lead him to the place where one of the babes has decided to make themselves known, kicking indignantly out at the side of your belly from within. He laughs at the sensation, pressing back against the assault and engaging in a tussle with the audacious little rascal.

You elbow him gently, frowning up at him. “Do not encourage his behaviour, kepus! He is being terribly rude.”

“She’s just being her father’s daughter, little girl.” Using his free hand to cradle beneath your chin, he leans down to kiss you. It is a soft brush of lips upon lips, barely there, the heat of his thumb tracing a line across your jaw. His eyes glow like vivid spring in the morning sun, vivid beneath his browbone. “No harm in that.”

“They are both free to be their father’s children after they come into the world,” you say, though it is more of a whisper than anything else. “Not while they can use my insides as target practice.”

“Of course.” It sounds distinctly mocking, but not quite insulting. You roll your eyes.

With the heaviness of your middle making it taxing enough to move about on land, it seems all but impossible to take the fresh air while on board a steadily rocking ship. Thus, Ūlla decrees that you are to stay abed for the sennight’s voyage back to your island home. The thought of hauling your body—rife with aches and pains across your spine, your chest, your knees, and swelling unpleasantly at the ankles—around such unstable terrain sounds positively exhausting, and so you submit to her directive with little fuss. You cannot claim boredom, however, for your temporary apartments are a revolving door of visitors come to break up the monotony of each day.

Your new ladies are a near constant presence, which provides you the opportunity to get to know them better. It had grieved you greatly to dismiss Senna, especially so soon after the passing of Miriam, but you knew you could not keep someone capable of such treachery in your service. You had asked Helaena to make enquiries to the court; Bethany and Jeyne were the very first parties to express their enthusiasm for the role. Being from minor Houses, their families bear no particular allegiance in the strife between Green and Black. Your initial meeting with the girls proved them to be every bit as guileless and courteous as you would have hoped.

Mayhaps they are a little dull, you think as you listen to them chatter about the new gowns their fathers had paid for as going-away presents, but there is time to remedy that.

You are gladdened to have Ser Alton also make an appearance, scarred and limping heavily with the use of a cane. He will remain in your service, perhaps as guard to your babes’ nursery when the time comes. Whatever use Daemon finds for him, you are insistent that he be given a worthy stipend for the remainder of his life, though it will be but a mere pittance compared to his great sacrifice. You feel guilty when he grins at your pronouncement of this, for he would not be in such a predicament were it not for you.

You cast the thought aside. What is done is done.

Daeron is your favourite guest of all, though. He reads to you in halting Valyrian, childish cadence shaping around unfamiliar sounds. Though he struggles so, his stubborn perseverance is adorable. He babbles about the ‘tricks’ Athfiezar has taken to the skies to perform, your boy dutifully flying back and forth from his roost to observe your progress home. Your heart aches at the fact that you are missing his little routine, that you are unable to get up and see him as you have craved since first hearing his almighty caterwauling from the highest parapet of the Red Keep, your devoted mount always protecting you from afar. But mostly, your young brother lays about with you, cheek to your belly so that he can feel the babes’ kicks upon his skin.

“Ouch!” He jerks back, glaring at your middle and looking so comically outraged that you cannot help but to laugh. “That one hurt!”

“I am sure they did not mean to,” you say, hand reaching forth to card through his hair fondly. “They just want to say ‘hello’.”

In truth, the sensation is inexplicable. You understand now why it is so difficult for mothers to describe it to one who has not experienced the same. At times, it feels as though your body has become a host to something foreign and frightening, an arcane entity that saps your energy and threatens to burst out from within. But you are strangely relieved by the oddness of it, the bruising signs of lives that are thriving in spite of all that has occurred.

“There’re better ways to say that,” Daeron mutters, bringing you forth from your musing as he returns to his previous position. His next words are muffled into your gown, the sounds vibrating through to your skin and making you giggle. “Be gentle, baby.”

When you arrive on the shores of Dragonstone, it takes everything within you not to cry at the familiar sight of sharp stone contours looming from grey mist, the salt and smoke in the air filling your nostrils with the scent of home. You have missed this place more than you realised. You are guided from the ship to the rowboat to the shore by Daemon and Harwin both, the latter taciturn to the extreme since the discovery of his brother’s crimes. He cannot be faulted for this. You convey what gratitude you can in your silence, leaving him to his thoughts. The sway of the boat makes you queasy, and you are forced to a standstill upon reaching the dock so that you may bend as far as you are able to retch into the sea.

Daemon does his best to soothe you, patting your hip as you grip tightly to his arm for balance. “The worst is over, sweetling. There we go.”

“Ugh.” You wipe the bile from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Never again. Never—never again.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. Hardly a loss. I’ve always fucking hated sea travel.”

You side-eye him irritably. How infuriating he is with that grin stretched joyously across his face, his silver hair ruffling in the wind, expression gleaming with amusement and something wicked.

He is so handsome, you think. You despise him. No, I do not. I cannot.

Suddenly, there is a voice on the wind. You hear your name being called, high and frantic. You cast your gaze down the dock to see a cream-and-scarlet shape advancing quickly toward you, pale hair white and streaming in the weak light. Rhaenyra.

“Sister!”

She is wan and tearful when she reaches you, all but barrelling into you and folding her arms around your shoulders. The smell of her perfume—of jasmine and sandalwood and childhood and simplicity—transports you to another time, a time when you were small and she was so big and not just in stature, but in temperament too, and her embrace was the safest place in the whole entire world. In this moment, you cannot recall why you ever had cause to feel anger, why you had not spoken to her in what feels now like an age. You have missed her, you have missed her and she is with you and all is right and good. All the rest is ash and dust upon the breeze.

“I am here,” you murmur into her shoulder, or perhaps you weep it, tears wetting the fabric of her gown and belly crushed to hers. “I am home.”

“I wanted to come, but Father…” Rhaenyra’s nostrils flare.

It is a profound relief to find yourself in familiar chambers, the rooms where you feel safe and most at ease. Little has changed. The same grim dark walls stand etched with screaming dragons above a stately bedframe swathed in wine-dark velvet, the same bookshelves are stacked with tomes shared between you and your uncle, the same balcony carved from stone is lit by the setting sun. The babes’ eggs remain warmed in their braziers by the hearth, chasing the chill from the room and bringing a merry glow with the crackling flames. You take this all in from your place on the chaise.

“I know,” you say quietly, uncertainly. Despite the fact that your hand is clutched in hers and her eyes are ringed red and raw with worry, you do not quite know where you stand. “Daemon told me.”

She had tried to bully her way to King’s Landing, or so you had been told. Having both witnessed and been on the receiving end of her temper, you do not envy the poor souls who had been made to inform the Princess that she could not mount Syrax to venture forth to your aid.

That she had made such fuss is encouraging, you think. A sister who means to break ties would not threaten to have her staff executed or destroy countless priceless artifacts or scream loud enough to wake the dragons on the other side of the island in her desperation to come to you.

Rhaenyra’s grip tightens to the point of pain, her eyes shadowing with malcontent and the polychromatic thunder of untapped wrath.

“I cannot believe Larys fucking Strong. That he is capable of such—such—” She cuts herself off after a glance at you, huffing in lieu of what would no doubt have been an impressive string of profanities. Shaking her head, the corners of her lips curve up weakly. “I’m surprised Uncle allowed the cunt to live. And Father’s sent ravens, you know—he’s rather put out by the manner in which you left.”

From what you have gathered, Daemon had readied your household with extreme discretion, taking only days to collect what he deemed essential so that he may deliver you from the city without so much as a by-your-leave in the earliest hours. Save for a cursory message passed along to the servants, there was no proclamation made of your departure to the King or the court.

“Yes, well.” What arrogance he has to be wroth after the manner he had discarded my right to justice!  “As for Lord Larys… I do not think Daemon intends to let the matter lie,” you say. “He is going to… well, I do not know, exactly. I did not ask. I just—wanted to come home.”

At that, her countenance lightens. “I’m glad you’re back,” she says, as though it is some great secret wrested from deep within her. You could have guessed such from the way she is looking at you like you are returned from beyond the veil.

And yet, it makes you frown. “Are you?” you ask, the memory of the garden threading through your mind, that terrible argument that had shaken the foundations of your bond with your sister.

You can almost hear her echoing words again, vicious and biting. You don’t even realise how spoiled you are.

Rhaenyra closes her eyes and swallows, and you catch the faint shakiness to the exhalation that follows as she prepares to answer you. She extricates herself from your hold, though it carries no air of rejection, and gazes pensively down at her lap where her hands now lay. You notice that she is turning the ring upon her middle finger with her thumb over and over. She is nervous, you realise. You wonder how it is possible that you are able to elicit such uncertainty in one so unwavering. She suddenly scoffs, though from the brooding set of her brow you suppose she directs this to none but herself. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I—hated myself the moment I said those awful things…”

“Why?” This is far kinder than she had been last time you spoke. You do not want to incite her displeasure now. “Why were you so cruel to me?”

As the days have passed, you have found this to be the query of paramount importance. It is not as though you had not known her capable of rage. She is a creature of passion, of fire, and she had rained flames down upon you for a reason. But you cannot—will not—accept the blame for it.

“I was angry. Jealous, even.” Rhaenyra sighs at the expression on your face. “I know. It’s horrible of me.”

You are sure you appear every bit as bewildered as you feel. “But why? You’re Rhaenyra.”

“And you’re very sweet, darling.” A beat, then two; she hesitates, staring past you for a moment before refocusing, eyes returning to yours with steely resolve. “You… you know that Laenor is not like—other men. He prefers those of a… particular persuasion. Of which I am not.”

Here, she pauses. You grasp for her hand again, squeezing encouragingly. She takes a breath. “We tried. Of course we did,” she says. “But no child would come. I needed heirs if I was to ascend the Iron Throne one day. So, I… sought assistance elsewhere.”

“Harwin.”

She flushes at your prompt declaration, glancing down. “Yes, Harwin. And he’s been good to me. They were both good to me. He and Laena.”

It grieves you still to hear your cousin’s name, but you keep yourself from lingering overlong upon the thought of dark skin and silver coils and merry laughter.

A wry, pained sort of smile curves Rhaenyra’s lips as she speaks, drawing you further into the present.  “But I always knew—I’ve always known, in the back of my mind, that the gossip is true,” she says. Her eyes shine like polished glass, but you know she will not break. “My sons are the best part of my life, but they are not Laenor’s. Everyone sees it. Everyone knows it. It’s so… draining, living that lie.”

Your sister is a proud woman. After having spent so many years denying your nephews’ illegitimacy to the court, the people, the Greens, to Father, to the gods themselves, it must be dreadful indeed to admit to this truth, even if it is only to you.

“And you…”

She lifts her chin to look at you, forehead wrinkling with the drawing together of her brows. Her tone is not quite accusatory, though the hurt of past wounds brings a weak rise of defensiveness rushing over you. You pull away slightly.

Her countenance gentles. “You have a husband who can give you children. Children whose blood will never be questioned, never be whispered about or mocked or insulted. No one will ever dare accuse you of being a whore. I… It finally became too much for me.”

You do not feel guilty for your response to Rhaenyra’s malice, for the venom you had voiced in that argument from what seems like so many moons ago now. Despite this, you cannot help but to pity her.

‘Tis the folly of youth to think her unmoved by the slander bandied about across the Realm, you chide yourself. You ought to have considered this. “I did not know,” you whisper, regret bitter and tickling in the back of your throat. “I didn’t realise. I thought—”

‘I thought you wanted my husband.’ You let the implication hang in the air. A swooping sensation in your gut heralds the uncomfortable reminder that you still—still—have not told him of this argument.

“Yes.” She nods, anticipating the statement before it has even been made. “And I told you before, when first you were wed. That prospect died long ago. I have no need for Daemon.” She rolls her eyes as though the idea of desiring your uncle is some great folly. You might be insulted on his behalf were it not for the relief that it brings. “None of this was your fault. My own recklessness has led me here, I realise that. I know I do not deserve it, but… please. You’re my sister. If there is anyone I need, it is you. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra.” Your belly gets in the way, forcing you to contort awkwardly to the side as you move to wrap your arms around her. Her chin falls to the dip between your neck and shoulder, her laugh gusting across exposed skin at the sensation of the babe that is snugged between you kicking out against her body. You giggle with her, angling yourself toward her ear so that she may hear you fully. “Next time you are feeling this way, talk to me. Stop shutting me out. I can handle it, I’m old enough now—”

“I know, I know.” Tugging out of your embrace, she lets her hands fall to your middle.

It is the first time she has truly felt the change in you of her own volition. You remember when you had forced her to touch the burgeoning swell upon first announcing the lives you bear, how reluctant and feather-light her palm had felt, how the strain had unveiled itself at the corners of her eyes and in the weak tilt of her mouth as you had chattered at her in excitement.

“Gods,” she says, fingers mapping the span of flesh in interest, “but you truly are a woman grown now, aren’t you? Look at this!”

“They are already unruly. I feel as though I am perpetually seated in the privy, such is their insistence on entertaining themselves with my insides.”

And once my ablutions are complete, you think ruefully, I am not capable of seeking other locales until someone deigns to find me and help me up. It had not been the best task with which to induct your new ladies—but needs must.

“They’re strong. That’s good. Father must have been pleased.”

“Hm.”

“I’d love to have seen the look on Alicent’s face when she first saw you.”

You shift uncomfortably at the mention of your stepmother. I do not wish to think about her. Not here, not now.

Rhaenyra does not seem to notice your recalcitrance, persisting along her chosen avenue of oration. “She never could stand it whenever I announced another babe. Worried about her precious Aegon, no doubt…” She stops. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I—I—”

At the sight of her concern, so warm and welcome after moons of silence and avoidance, your terrible secret spills forth like water breaking through a dam, unstoppable, rushing torrentially and obliterating everything in its path. You trip over your confession in your haste to get it out, to purge yourself of the burden of carrying it alone.

When you are done, the stillness lingers unnaturally, so quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your blood pumping through your veins.

“Alicent—she… what?” Rhaenyra’s eyes are wide, horrified, face blanched.

“Yes—do tell.”

You turn to see Daemon standing in the open doorway to your chambers, stiffer than the draconic stone carvings that man the entrances to the Keep. Scarcely stemmed rage emerges thunderous beneath the cracks in his control. It seems to vibrate out of him like the dust that quivers on the air after Athfiezar’s landing, deceptively calm until you look closer. The forbidding cross of his arms and the violence that looms in the shadow beneath his brow is enough to tell you without risking inquiry that he has heard you. Has heard everything.

Oh. Your heart twists anxiously. Oh, dear.

“I—”

Speak, for the gods’ sake, you urge yourself, but the sounds refuse to shape themselves into words. Your mettle has fled, leaving you all but a quailing child sitting silent before her elders, awaiting the burn of remonstration.

He advances like a soldier upon enemy territory. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps my little wife did not just say that that whore of a Queen has been dosing her with moon tea since who fucking knows when. Perhaps I’ve been struck with madness, or I’m hearing things.”

The last time he was this angry with you…

A blast of inappropriate hilarity washes through your mind as you consider it. Does the instance where you had ignored him for days and danced with Lord Serrett at Helaena’s wedding count? He had certainly been rather put out. You are unsure if it matches with the near tangible ferocity contorting his face into something bestial, barely suppressed and weathering severe hollows into his forehead.

He is already cross, you think. I could tell him about the fight with Rhaenyra. You have been meaning to. Now seems as good an occasion as any.

“Daemon—” Your sister jumps in her seat when he barks at her.

“Quiet!” he hisses, rounding back on you.

You discard your notion, deciding to not to bother divulging that particular secret here. Another time, then. No need to send him to his grave early. He is positively apoplectic. It cannot possibly be good for his heart.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “I’m your husband! You don’t answer to Rhaenyra. You answer to me!”

“Excuse me—”

“I wanted to prevent bloodshed,” you say, cutting your sister off. You reach for the arm of the chaise, preparing yourself for the arduous task of rising from such a low surface. You keep your voice soft and light like one who is soothing an agitated stallion. “Kepus—”

He lets out a humourless chuckle, scowling and derisive. Standing in the middle of the room, he makes no move to close in upon you. You think you might prefer it if he would.

“Oh, so you’re protecting her? Excellent.” He laughs again, wild, as though it is a great joke. “She’s murdered how many of our ba—” 

You watch him break off at the end, swallowing convulsively.

“Shit.” His eyes are bright and his teeth grind together beneath closed lips. “I cannot even say the words, and yet you’re defending her? You’d better have—”

“I was not protecting her!”

Grunting, you gratefully accept Rhaenyra’s mutely offered arm of support to hoist yourself up, her other hand pushing against your back. Daemon steps forward, arm outstretched as though to assist you in place of your sister, a rote movement borne from days and weeks of doing the same. It is not needed. The business of getting to your feet winds you for a moment, the uncomfortable bend of your upper half forcing the babes into your lungs and the breath from your body.

“I was protecting us!” You rub your belly with a grimace. “I was protecting you!”

“Protecting me?” He hangs frozen, fingers twitching. A battle rages plain upon his visage. He wars between the need to cosset and the desire to castigate, your loving, hot-tempered dragon of a man.

Sensing a shift in his disposition—or even a fissure through which you may slip through to gentle him with sweet words and a light touch—you make your tentative approach. “I know you,” you say, wincing with each step as the weight pulls low in your spine. It is becoming far too difficult to move about in your current state. “If I had told you when I first found out, you would have slaughtered her.”

“Too fucking right, I would have—”

“Stop. Listen to me.” You lay your palm on his chest. He tenses under the contact, then releases, much larger hand coming up to blanket yours against his body. His chin dips down, eyes closing and brows contracting as though in great pain. “You would have stopped at nothing to take her life in recompense for… for what she has done. You would have killed her. And what then? The Queen dead, and the slayer in close quarters. Papa would have had no choice but to take your head for it.”

You drop your volume low, too low for Rhaenyra to hear, letting bitterness suffuse your hushed tone. “Only a King can kill a Queen, after all.”

It is an old hurt, a terror from so young an age that you had scarcely the words to describe what it was you dreaded.

Mama, whimpers the small, frightened girl locked away in the corner of your mind, snivelling to the echo of dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes in the barest shape of a woman, a shade of a memory. Is this stabbing pain in my chest what betrayal feels like? Is this how you felt when Father held you down and let them cut you apart? Must I forever wish, hope, pray that he will choose me for once?

You shake your head. This is not the time nor place for such thoughts.

“And I… I would be alone. With child. Forced to contend with the world as a widow not yet twenty summers old. Without you. Without my kepa.” A sharp, plaintive tremor colours your cadence, fear of the picture you paint too real and near to remain impassive. “And do you think Papa would allow his second daughter to remain unmarried with the others wed, even with a womb already full? I was protecting you. I am not sorry for it. I am only sorry that I had not yet had the occasion to tell you myself.”

The world is still as he absorbs what you have said, gaze stormy and troubled and not quite meeting your own. Then, Daemon leans down, presses his forehead to yours, and you believe in this instant that the worst of it is over.

But he bears down harder, and for several moments it is too much, too forceful, and his hand upon your cheek feels less like love and more like punishment, stinging, branding. He shoves himself from you bodily. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he strides away with his back to you.

“Daemon?”

“I—I cannot,” he says, so low that at first you are unsure if you heard it. He does not turn to meet your stare, just tosses the words over his shoulder like you are someone unimportant, distant and detached.

This is not rage, you realise. This is something else. This is worse.

“We’ll speak later.” With that, he walks to the door, out, footsteps echoing along the hall outside, fainter, fainter, until they are wholly gone.

The first thing you proceed to do after Daemon’s exit is invite Ser Lorent into the room.

You had not expected him to accompany you to Dragonstone, given the self-evident vocation of a Kingsguard to swear himself to the highest man in the Realm. However, he refused to return to his Commander upon discovering Daemon’s intent to take you home, being entirely possessed of the belief that it was his sacred duty to defend those whom the King deems fit. Given that your father had named him your shield in the wake of Ser Alton’s maiming and had not un-named him, it seems he had little desire to forsake this assignation when learning of your impending change in locales.

“Please make sure that my husband is not allowed to take to the skies,” you tell the knight, ignoring the sound of Rhaenyra murmuring your name behind you. “He is not to mount Caraxes today.”

He frowns. “With all due respect, Princess,” he says slowly, “I don’t think I am the one to tell Prince Daemon that—”

You wave him off impatiently. “I am the second-born of King Viserys. He is the brother of the King. Tell me, Ser—which of these is the higher station?”

It is a crass comparison to make, but effective. Ser Lorent’s countenance smooths and he sighs, genuflecting before you in recognition of your case. He offers a cursory farewell and a solemn vow that ‘it will be done’, spinning on heeled boot to march himself off to his task. His golden armour gleams with each movement of limb.

“Sister.” Rhaenyra is insistent.

You turn to her with as patient a countenance as you can muster. She is pallid, carved out to her core, and it plays out in the abrupt weathering of her face, supple-skinned youth mirroring the bone-deep weariness of a thousand summers past. Making your way to her, you decide not to risk sitting on the seat this time. Instead, you lean against the arm of the chair, from which lifting yourself will be a far easier undertaking to perform.

“Alicent is not—the Alicent I knew was not so vile as this,” she says numbly, frozen.

You reach out to lay your palm upon her hunched back, the river of moonlight spilling from her head catching soft between your fingers. Her gaze is far-off, like she is not truly seeing what is before her, instead watching a mirage from another time play out upon the stone floors of your chamber. She lets out a chuckle, but it sounds more like a cough or a sob.

“When I was a girl, all I wanted to do was fly away with her. Far away, where babes and Lords and thrones and kingdoms meant little. I think she would’ve done it if I truly asked it of her. She was my best friend. Sometimes I wonder…” Her voice fizzles like the flame that has burned down to the very last of the wick.

You hush her. “The Alicent you knew is gone. She is not the girl from your childhood, Rhaenyra, not anymore. She… she is something else. Warped.”

“She is the Queen.”

It is all you need to hear to know that she understands in a way so few do.

Power destroys the goodness in people, even those upon whom it is forced. The promise of it had turned Maegor to madness; had made your father a coward content to spurn the needs of his children for the sake of satisfying others; had created a villain of the woman who had once helped you learn your letters from history books. It is slow-eating poison consuming its prey, unseen, unnoticed, until it is far too late and the person it has claimed is no more.

Rhaenyra’s expression changes as she sits up, nostrils flaring and skin tightening around her eyes, flinty and dark.

“For now. Not forever.” You marvel at how something delivered in such hushed volume can sound so much like a proclamation. She looks to you, taking your hands in hers with a rancorous glimmer in her stare. “Lo Sīkudo Dārȳti jemēban, ziry gūrotrir mazemilza. Drīvī aemilā, kese kīvio isān.” When I rule the Seven Kingdoms, she’ll get what she deserves. You will have justice, I swear.

You nod shakily, the tightness in your gut easing. Truthfully, you had been unsure if she would support you after having ignored you for weeks. The attack had served at least one good purpose, you think. It does not bring you much joy to consider for all that has come to light in its wake.

She leaves you with a kiss to the temple and a promise to return to your old routine. “I’ll have dinner relocated to your solar until these two arrive,” she says, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs and glancing down at your belly. “You won’t have to go far, that way. Alright?”

You smile gratefully, acquiescing to her suggestion. Traversing the Keep in your condition just for the sake of a meal hardly seems worth it.

In the silence of your rooms, you contemplate searching for the caps you are stitching to protect the babes’ heads in the cooler weather. They are among the luggage still being brought up from the ship, you remember. Damn.

You ponder upon seeking a tome from your solar next door—within which your ladies are currently installed for the sake of privacy with your sister—but you do not fancy carrying further weight for any measure of distance. Your books are far too heavy for the enterprise to be worth it. Sighing, you shuffle to the bed, always in eager anticipation of a nap to replenish the energy the twins sap for themselves.

Awakening an indeterminate amount of time later, you are bleary and fatigued, gown damp and back aching and stomach rumbling. Thankfully, your ladies seem to have ventured back into your rooms during your slumber.

“How long until the evening meal?” you ask through a yawn, using both arms to push yourself upright and bracing yourself for the rush of blood spotting your vision. You refocus a moment later upon the pair seated by the hearth, the fire lit and crackling merrily behind them.

They both startle lightly at the abruptness of your waking. “There are—some hours yet, Princess,” Jeyne says nervously, eyes darting between you and Bethany.

I make her nervous, you realise. You do not wish to contend with fearful companions. Smiling, you try to settle her, though the learning of such unfortunate news as having to wait so long brings tears to your eyes. You are starved.

She begins to stammer at the sight. “If—If you’d like, I can ask for the kitchens to prepare you something small?”

“That would be lovely, Jeyne,” you say, sure that the trails spilling down your cheeks coupled with the wide-set gleam of your teeth has only served to further frighten her. You must seem positively deranged.

You try to distract from the picture you make by requesting scones spread thick with honey and raspberry conserve, a staple in your diet as of late. The longing that arises at very thought of it speeds the trajectory of the moisture sliding down your face. You hurry to ensure she passes on a further request for honey-glazed goat with mashed turnips for supper.

I may just sprout black-and-yellow fuzz at this rate, you muse. You almost consider asking for a jar of honey to be brought with a spoon to consume by itself—but you are certain the imbibing of so much sweetness will only send you rushing to heave into a basin.

As Jeyne speeds off to fulfil the task you have set her, you turn to Bethany and petition her to arrange for a bath to be brought in. The relief at having something to do other than make stilted conversation with her new mistress appears to relax her greatly. She quite happily consents, placing her book of prayers upon her empty seat to make the necessary enquiries.

Soon enough, you are cleansed and steeped in warm water laced with milk and rose oil, leaning happily over the side of the tub to partake in the buttery desert. Your ladies leave you in peace after helping you into the bath before the hearth and scrubbing you down with soap, and so you are able to enjoy the simple joy of it without unfamiliar company to encumber you.

The scent of flowers and berries and floured goods swirl together in a haze of saccharine richness, calming you greatly and easing the last of your worries. Daemon could burst in this very moment and scream loud enough to be heard in the capital, and I do not think I would care overmuch.

You ought not to have.

“Looking rather pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Eyes widening as you slosh about to face your uncle, you brace yourself for the fulfilment of your most recent deliberations. Instead, your gaze alights on his form leaning against the wall, relaxed in a manner that contradicts your suppositions. His lips curve at the display you make, crumbs strewn across the small table beside the bath and collected in the corner of your mouth. The smile does not reach his eyes.

“I was hungry,” you say by way of explanation. “And sore.”

“Hm.” Daemon pushes himself forward, sauntering over at an unhurried pace. You watch him cautiously, attempting to gauge his mood through the mask of inscrutability. He reaches forward to—

“Hey!” You squawk in outrage as he swipes the last of your scones from the plate and lifts it to his lips, hand darting up to try and snatch it back.

“Ah-ah.” He holds it up and out of your grasp. “Consider this payment for being barred from riding my own dragon this afternoon. Care to explain that?” His brow raises even as he stuffs the treat into his mouth, chewing smugly while you flail with indignation.

You pout up at him. “I was worried you would… fly to King’s Landing,” you say, scowling. To murder Alicent Hightower. The implication hangs heavy in the beat of silence after your sentence.

“I thought about it.” Sucking the remnants of conserve from his thumb with obnoxious emphasis, he keeps his tone light, though it is belied by the piercing intensity of his stare. “I wasn’t able to actually do anything, though, thanks to you.”

“Good.” That scone was mine. You sigh, resting your chin upon your hands over the rim of the tub. “I know you are angry—”

“Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.” That performative gaiety in his voice persists, carrying with it the threat of heated censure should you misstep and say the wrong thing.

You swallow, measuring your words carefully as you grip onto his hand. “I know.” You are encouraged when his fingers fold over yours. Despite the severity reflected in his eyes and the hard line of his lips, his touch is soft. “But you cannot touch her while she is Queen. When Father dies, Rhaenyra will rule, and then we can ensure that she will pay. Justice shall prevail, Daemon—when the time is right. Leave her be. Please?”

His hold tightens and he lets out a harsh breath, wrinkles forming between his brow as they contract. Peering up at him through your lashes, you wait. Then, a minute dip of his chin, a barely-there jerk of assent.

He does not like it, but he agrees.

“You shouldn’t have kept it from me.” There is no utterance of acquiescence. You had not expected it. His voice is low, cross, vibrating through your joined flesh, and the pale hairs on your arms stand upright at the sensation. “I shouldn’t have had to eavesdrop on you to learn something this important.”

“I know. I am sorry,” you whisper.

He grunts. “I know you are.”

“I will be truthful from now on.”

“Good.”

“And you will stop running from me each time we argue.”

At this, he frowns. “I don’t—”

“You do,” you say firmly. “You get upset and walk out, and I have to sit about wondering where you are, if you are well, when or even if you intend on returning. I worry.”

Daemon glances toward the fire pensively, clasp slackening around your hand. When his gaze returns to yours, it is serious, violet so deep that it is like lifting your head to look up at the night sky, profound and unknowable. “I’ll try,” he murmurs, palm ghosting over your cheek, callouses scratching comfortingly. “For you.”

You allow the corners of your mouth to turn upward, cupping his hand with both of yours and turning your head to press your lips to his skin. He smells warm, like the salt-smoke of the isle and something earthy, wild. He smells like home.

You startle when he pulls away to fumble with the buttons on his doublet. “What are you doing?” you ask blankly.

“What does it look like?” Grinning, he tosses first his outerwear and then his undershirt to the floor. He kicks his boots off haphazardly, a movement so thoroughly ungainly that you cannot help but laugh as he stumbles a pace or two. He wiggles his brows, gesturing at you. “You’ve a large bath there. It so happens I’m in need of one, too.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the opaque water, beneath which is your body thick with the weight of carrying two babes and scrawled dark with the evidence of skin forced to stretch too quickly. You do not feel attractive right now. “But—”

“But what? Are you in pain?” He stops for a moment with breeches at his knees, concerned,  shaft half-plumped between his legs and ruddy with the rush of blood attending to its rise.

“No, I just—I am not at my most… inviting, currently.”

“What utter shit.” When he shucks off the rest of his clothing and bares his undressed form proudly, you bite your lip at the view, at wide shoulders and corded arms and firm thighs, skin swirled with old burns like a brand of savagery. He makes toward you. “Go on, there—there we go, sweetling. Ah”—he readjusts you to his liking, settling in before you—“not your usual temperature.”

“I cannot have it hotter.” You grumble as he tugs you to him, tilting you to the side so he can press his face to your bared neck. “The babes.”

“Yes, don’t want to roast the little dragons,” he says, greedily caressing your belly below the water. His nose drags across your jaw. “Mm, you’re soft. Smell good.”

You shiver. “Daemon—”

“Nervous thing tonight, aren’t you? A silly little girl with silly little thoughts.”

He chuckles, mocking and mean, grasping at your wrist and drawing you down, down. His tongue laves a line up your throat even as he coaxes your fingers around his cock, using you to bring himself to full mast.

“Feel that? Fuck. Keep fucking going.” His forehead presses to your temple, his length twitching in your grasp, iron, steel. “Doesn’t feel like someone repulsed, does it?”

“No.” Your eyes water, mortified and desperately aching. Why would I doubt him? Why is he not touching me ? Your breath comes quick like a rabbit’s, puffed little exhales, frantic with desire.

“No,” he says, roughly cupping and squeezing your breasts. You cry out, nipples tingling with a strange heaviness that you are unsure if painful or pleasurable. “Up”—he is already hoisting you by the waist—“show me your tits. There’s a girl.”

You gasp, scrabbling at his hair with your free hand as he dips down to swirl his tongue around a nipple, sweep the flat of it across your flesh, fix his lips over you and suck, hard pulls that shoot straight to your gut, pulsing. It feels good. It hurts. There is a tension climbing, climbing—

“Uh!” A foreign release clenches in your cunny and in your chest, not a climax but something intuitive, primordial, extending from your breast and radiating inward to the very heart of you.

Daemon pulls away with a noise of surprise. “How long has this been happening?” he asks lowly, quivering against you as though poised to strike, wild and barely restrained.

Glancing down perplexed, you spy the moisture collected in the corner of his mouth. You wonder why he has reacted so to the taste of the bathwater until you see the beads of gold-cream collected thickly right at your nipple, too dark to possibly be anything but mother’s milk.

It is too early, you think, but in the same token you are also thinking my gowns, the stickiness on my gowns is from this, from my body preparing the way for the babes to come.

“I—I do not know, I—”

His cock lurches in your hand as he leans back down to collect the slow amber trickle from your skin, shuddering full-formed at the pooling of it on his palate. He mouths leisurely, covetously at you, tongue-tip tracing and prodding droplets from the hard peak. Your untouched breast hangs impossibly heavy, throbbing.

“If you taste like this now”—his lips scarcely leave your flesh to shape the words—“I’m hiring a fucking regiment of wet-nurses. They can feed the babes. This’ll be for me.”

You can do naught but keen as he returns to his task, taking great pulls to eke out the scant fluid. Each suck throbs molten in your core, as though someone has seized your pearl between thumb and finger and yanks in tandem with Daemon’s avaricious swallows. His insistent fondling and gusty snuffles and obscene slurps ratchet you beyond the point of speech, feeling so much more than you recall.

He draws back with a slick pop, mouth as rosy and glistening as your flushing chest. “Gods, you’re sweet all over, aren’t you? I don’t know which I prefer to sup from—your tits or your cunt.” His voice is slurred, prompting memories of little Joff each time Rhaenyra had removed him drowsed and milk drunk from her own breast. Daemon looks the same now, eyes drooping and dazed as he stares up at you. His knee pushes between your thighs and knocks your grip away from his shaft, hands angling you to seat yourself firmly over him. “There. Ride my leg like the fucking slut you are. Go on.”

You squirm in his hold, lips parting shakily as he proffers one final wet kiss to your cherry-tip nipple and abruptly switches tack, latching onto the other with a wordless growl. That same sensation akin to the bursting of a bubble radiates through your skin. The renewed greed in his nursing drags tells you that he has lured forth a fresh supply.

With a tremulous whimper, you brace yourself against his arms and slide your core over him, rutting mindlessly and allowing instinct to take over as the sparks coil hotter inside you. The wiry hairs on his flesh rasp against your bud like whetstone across a blade, a pure unadulterated sting that somersaults, swooping, between throbbingpoundingpleaseneverstop and something darker, a bite of agony that feeds into the mounting end. You slide, sticky, viscous, too thick to be water alone, helpless vocalisations escaping as you coat him in your wet. The bathwater splashes about with every movement, spilling over the edges of the tub and onto the floor.

“Kepus!”

Your entrance tightens and your belly tautens, convulsing and contracting with the intensity of a powerful crest, eliciting a roiling heat in your breasts and thighs and cunny. His eyes flick up to yours and dance roguishly in the firelight, his leg bouncing into your pearl so that you can ride out the waves of ecstasy.

Daemon’s teeth graze over your nipple as he pulls away, crowding you back against the edge of the tub as he stands swiftly, sending bathwater careening wildly and swilling over the sides with a slick splatter. He drags you up by your braided hair, giving you clear access to the sight of his hand stripping frantically at his cock.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he snaps, crouching slightly to dig his thumb into your mouth and force your jaw wide. He leers down at you with teeth bared, the head of his shaft burbling pearly white that he spreads across your open lips. “I’ve got my own milk to feed you with. No point dirtying the water when I’ve got a perfectly good hole to spend in right here, hm?”

You beam, rising up on your knees and batting his hand away so that you can take hold of his manhood, welcoming the familiar heft of it with a firm pump and glide of lips along the vein running underside. From the way it tremors at your touch, a flower reaching desperately for the sun, he is not long to finish.

“Uh-huh.” You stick out your tongue and feed him into your mouth, wiggling happily into his groin as far as you are able. It is only when you gag hard enough to incite nausea that you withdraw, taking a breath even as you tongue the stray droplets of seed from the tip, hot and bitter. “‘M all for you. All my holes—they’re all yours.”

He grunts, fingers twisting in your hair tight enough to hurt and cock spasming between your lips. “Fuck!”

You smile, fisting vigorously at the base and suckling over the head in draughts that mimic his earlier movements at your breast, moaning with delight as the syrupy astringence pumps onto your tongue in thick spurts. Daemon’s head tips back above you, eyes closing and hips juddering into your face reflexively. You swallow it all, obedient and eternally eager to please.

“Fuck,” he repeats emphatically, loosening his grip and nearly wheezing, winded and depleted.

You laugh. He hisses as the vibrations travel through his sensitive flesh, extracting himself with a weak groan. Flopping back into the tub with a huff, he seems to care little for the amount of water he has wasted in his endeavours.

“The bath is half-emptied now,” you say, pressing your lips together to stave off the grin that tries to overtake your expression.

Daemon snorts, folding you against his chest like a child cradled by her father. He is firm and warm beneath you, so warm that the water seems cold by comparison, and you rub your cheek over his skin in contentment. “You’ll live,” he murmurs drolly, petting your belly once more. Mercifully, the babes are still.

“I have half a mind to get out and leave you here in this half-empty bath,” you tell him, softening the blow of your snobbish tone with a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He smiles, angling his head to capture your lips more fully, tongue stroking against yours and blending the flavours of his seed and your milk in a strange, sweet-tart amalgamation. “Stay,” he whispers into you, breath mingling with your own. His eyes shine, soft and affectionate in a manner he allows so few to see. “For a little longer, at least.”

When he looks upon you like this—like you are a god incarnate, like you are a miracle brought to life, like you are everything he has ever wanted in all the world—you are hard-pressed to refuse him.

“Very well,” you say, your hand joining his over the place where your family grows. “I will stay.”

Read it on AO3: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44058132/chapters/116372530

Taglist (😭 thank you!):

Now in the comments!

#terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #matt smith #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfiction #daemon x oc #daemon x reader #daemon x you #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf #asoiaf fanfiction #targaryen #house targaryen #fire and blood

[hummingbird-games]

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:  

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss 🥹if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

#gaming year in review #gamedev rambles #yeah no I cannot keep creating more work for me #2024 I am GOING to make a shorter list 😭🤧 #hmmmm fun drinking game: #take a shot every time the word 'mystery' is used ☠️

[emotionoitme]

thinking about carmy bending me over his lap and spanking me for being a tease

teehee 🤭 fwb reader as a host at the bear

“i’m not doing anything,” she crosses her arms, coy smile playing on her lips.

“bullshit,” he challenges, shutting the office door “what’s—” he sighs, brows creasing, “-what’s with that outfit?” gesturing to the questionable mini skirt she showed up in.

“what’s wrong with it?” she presses, “you said yesterday we could dress for the heat.”

carmy runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, raking his eyes over her bare legs. she was right, he did say that. he didn’t anticipate, however, how jealous he would feel watching her sweet talk the male customers while sauntering around in a piece of denim that hardly covered her ass.

“you even know how people are lookin’ at you out there? guys?” he asks, jaw tightening. she just rolls her eyes at this, brushing him off.

“no one’s looking at me, chef,” she annunciates the last part, stepping closer, “except you, maybe,” tilting her head to the side. she watches his face grow stern, hoping to further rile him up. he’s silent for a moment, studying her expression, seeing her pupils expand.

“that’s why you wore it, right?” he challenges, further closing the distance between them, examining the way her smirk drops a bit, pout on her face replacing it.

“no,” she curtly responds, refusing to take a step back, her face inches from carmy’s, his breath hot against her lips.

“don’t lie,” he chides lowly, hand coming to rest on her hip, pulling her in. her lips almost touch his, the heat of the small office rapidly increasing. she badly wants to give in and admit her intentions, knowing he would lean in to press his mouth against hers in reward. she retains her resolve, though, eyes flickering towards his plump lips.

“i’m not lying,” she mutters, hazed by the warmth radiating from the man in front of her, hazed by the clean sharpness of his deodorant. it takes all of her strength, but she turns away, distancing herself from him.

“better not be,” he warns, eyes drifting down her form. he knew he shouldn’t be talking to her this way while they were at work, yet he found himself undeniably affected by her presence, trying to bottle it away for later, pants noticeably tighter than earlier. he runs his hand through his hair.

“go back to the front,” carmy directs. the sternness of his voice leaves a prickle over the girl’s skin, meeting his eyes once more, casting over the set firmness of his jaw. she knew what that look meant— the “i’ll deal with you later” glare, his lowered intonation. it did nothing but encourage the girl, wondering how far she’d be able to get under his skin tonight.

“yes, chef,” she breathes out softly, glancing to his lips, then meeting his gaze again. he doesn’t miss the way she bends to his authority, heart pounding in his ears. how much time was left until close? he wonders if anyone would interrupt them if he grabbed her and bent her over the desk, or fucked the attitude out of her. his line of sight follows her as she turns to the door, letting herself out.

she couldn’t deny the heat his words had sent to her core—trying to steady her breath, bringing her hands to her warm cheeks to try and cool them as she makes her way back to the front of house. the girl found that his threatening demeanor inflicted a reaction the opposite of what he had probably intended, instead now plotting her next advance. she glances back through the expo window, watching carmen resume his rounds, barking orders as if he were on edge.

the dinner rush progresses smoothly through the night as the staff diligently works to accommodate the guests, although the influx of customers leaves the front of house short of a few items as the closing hour approaches. the young host makes her way back to the supply closet to grab a few necessities, flicking on the light to dimly illuminate the small space. she spots the bin of spare glassware she needed perched on the very top shelf, inwardly cursing and checking the vicinity for a step stool. she scoffs, finding nothing in the direct area, instead opting to climb the shelf. she hikes up her jean skirt, placing her foot up onto the raised surface, shakily grasping onto the wood as she climbs towards the top. she can almost reach the bin of glassware, perching her leg a bit higher, trying to push herself upwards when she hears carmen’s voice.

“the hell are you doin’?” he asks, eyeing her precariously balanced position, the angle of their height difference with her on the shelf granting him quite the view. she gasps at the surprise of his presence, body unintentionally flinching and knocking her slightly off balance. she clutches the metal railing of the shelf, hearing it rattle under the sudden movement. it looks almost like she would fall, so carmy’s hand instinctually flies up to steady her, gripping onto the back of her upper thigh. he immediately notices the softness of the skin, fingertips teasing the curve of her ass. she jolts at the touch, his grip firmly holding her in place.

“i’m trying to get the extra glasses,” she meekly explains, turning her head to look at him. his brows are furrowed, jaw tightly set.

“there’s a step stool in the office,” he reminds her, moving his hand a bit lower once he notices his current position, trying to guide his eyes away from creeping under her short skirt, “c’mon, get down from there.”

she feels her cheeks heat, self assured that she could complete the task, opening the lid of the container and taking a glass out.

“i just need a few,” she protests, trying not to focus on the warmth of his grip on her leg or the butterflies erupting from her stomach. he sternly says her name, patience wearing thin with the girl.

“down. now,” he asserts, “let me get the stool,” scoffing when he watches her rolls her eyes and continue taking glasses out of the box.

“oh yeah?” his eyebrows raise, leaning to look up at her and catch her eye, “we’re gonna do this tonight?”

heat pools in between her legs at his challenging tone, eager to rouse him, leaning back into his touch with a small pout on her lips. carmen closely watches her with his eyebrows raised, anticipating a response, tensing when she continues to ignore him. he attempts to rationalize his urges, reminding himself that there were still employees clocked in and they were not alone.

even so, carmy slides his arm up her back and around her waist, bringing the other arm to wrap around her legs, picking her off the shelf and placing her on the ground. she cries his name in protest, voice falling flat when she meets his eyes and catches a dangerous glint. he firmly grips her wrist and pulls her as he stalks to his office, dragging the girl behind him. he slams the office door behind them, pulling his apron off over his head, only letting go of her once she’s sandwiched between him and his desk.

she knows where this is going— having wanted nothing more than for carmy to give her some reinforcement, some attention.

“what’s with the fuckin’ attitude today?” he asks, watching her closely, hand coming to her side, “hm? usually such a good girl for me,” his voice is low and gravelly, igniting every nerve beneath her skin, strikingly blue eyes devouring her whole. she lets out a breath, fixated on the plumpness of his lips as she feels his hand creep under the hem of her shirt to caress the heating skin.

“i don’t have an attitude,” she protests far less convincingly than she means to, eyes fluttering slightly at the sensation of his hand sliding up her rib cage and cupping her breast. he scoffs at her response, then leans in to press his lips to her neck, peppering kisses from the curve of her shoulder to the sensitive skin tucked under her earlobe. his thumb brushes over her nipple, feeling her shudder at how the bud quickly perks from his touch. he reaches with his other hand to shove the material of her shirt up over her breasts, marveling at the sight.

“really?” he asks, caressing her soft mounds, seeing her fight a reaction, “cause it seems like you’re trying to get me to put you in your place,” watching as her eyebrows raise and cheeks flush at his completely truthful accusation. she doesn’t respond, just leans further into his touch, eyes glancing away from his as a knowing smirk spreading over the man’s face. he slides his hand back down her stomach, wrapping it around her. he quickly spins her around to face away from him, pushing at the small of her back to bend her over the desk, his other hand gripping her forearm and pulling it behind her, chest flush against the wood. she lets out a small whimper at the swift action, feeling as he presses his hardening bulge against her backside. she can notice her body physically heat up when he dominates her like this, arching back towards his hips, turning her head so her face lays against the wood. carmen releases her arm, then grabs the hem of her skirt and begins pushing it up over her thighs, exposing her ass clad in lace, supple skin enveloping the tight fabric. he quickly palms it, massaging, the softness making his breath catch in his throat, listening to her drawn out whine. his thumb teases the edge of her underwear as he smoothes his hands over her lightly clothed curves, hard bulge against her thigh.

“yes,” she pleads into the wood of the table, heavily exhaling at the warmth of his hand sliding along her gluteus, slightly embarrassed at the compromising position. he lets out a soft scoff in response, eyes gliding over his tattooed fingers grabbing her, pressing into the skin. he doesn’t miss the way she shifts, pushing her ass into him more, her arms stretching out over his desk.

carmen raises his hand, then cracks it down onto the right cheek, gripping the plump skin immediately after to soothe the sting. she releases a cry, pushing further back against him, basking in the hot prickling sensation of the impact. she’s unable to mask the ghost of a smile that prickles at the edges of her lips, having gotten exactly what she sought. his eyes trace over her expression as he raises his arm again, hand flying down onto the other cheek with a sharp smack that sounds through the small office.

“that what you wanted?” he asks in a growl, cock straining against his pants, continuing to firmly press her into the table. she shakes her head and turns away in an attempt to hide the arousal painting her face. “no?” he asks teasingly, smoothing over the reddening skin, “you taking your punishment like a good girl? won’t be all wet when i take these off?” his finger looping through the thin band of her panties, tugging. she hums in agreement, head hazy with lust, only wanting him to spank her more. carmy shoves the fabric down her thighs until they slide to the ground, eyes finding a glistening wetness pooling at her entrance, coating the insides of her thighs in a sticky sheen. he spreads her open, swiping a finger through her folds, slickness soaking the digit. he then wordlessly brings his hand in front of her eyes, showing her how wet his finger was with her juices. she flushes, turning her face out of embarrassment. he grabs her hips, pulling her ass higher up towards him, admiring the red hand prints blooming on her skin.

“you’ve been trying to get me to do this all day,” he taunts lowly, hand wrapping around her throat, leaning in to speak in her ear, “wearin’ that little skirt…talking back,” his bulge throbs against her, and she lets out a whimper. he rubs his hand over her ass once more, then smacks her. she gasps, and he smacks her again in the same spot, gasp morphing into a cry. she reaches back for him, fingertips coming to his thigh, nerves electrified with pleasure.

“please,” she begs, “put it in,” panting, the juices from her cunt soaking into his pants. her body feels incredibly hot, mind only focused on one thing as she pushes back against him rhythmically, making the man grin at how needy she was from what was supposed to be a punishment. he grips her to to hold her in place, reaching down to quickly pull her panties back up her thighs, fabric coming to cover her soaking heat, reddened skin peaking out from behind the delicate lace. he shoves her skirt back down over her ass, then roughly pulls her to stand, ignoring the cry of confusion.

“go finish your close,” he orders, jaw tight, increasingly clouded with arousal. if he had kept her bent over the desk he surely would have given into her desires, providing her with exactly what she wants (and potentially alerting other staff members to what was going on). instead, he remains firm in his decision, taking a small amount of joy in the look of desperation that spread over her features, opening her mouth to protest. he says her name sternly, cutting her off, “you heard me,” pointing to the door, “go.”

she turns, still enveloped in a thick heat of desire, a sting ever-present under her skirt as she attempts to changes her focus to finishing nightly duties.

why do i love mean carmen so much

i’m sorry for my irregular posting!! i have so much going on in my life right now. i appreciate everyone’s support so much <3 it means more than you know

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto headcannon

[absorbedbutler]

ur austin imagines got me blushin teehee 🤭

but i'm in love w/ the idea of really romantic sex with him like i bet he's so soft dom.. like him grabbing ur hand to hold while he's fucking you real slow and deep and so desperate and moan-y and getting so lovey dovey right before he cums ok bye I'm foaming at the mouth

u are so sweet idk if it’s bc it’s late but it’s making me fucking emotional… 🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️ anyway here you go UR BRAIN IS SO WRINKLY AND BIG I LOVE THIS

12:37. your head turned back from the clock on the night stand back to austin, him on top of you, staring at both of you connecting when you looked down after the eye contact became too much for you.

he knew how much you needed this and he could tell that you were getting tired of the draining and demanding scenes you had once before loved.

“hey, hey.” his low tired voice said as he softly tapped your check to catch your attention again. you looked up at him and melted into him at the way he was holding you.

his hand slipped down to intertwine with yours before he brought both of them up to kiss your wrist.

his heart stopped everytime he looked at you, your hair messily across the pillows, soft plump lips opened with drawn out whines being pulled from them every time he pushed back into you.

“can you wrap your legs around me? cmon. oh- 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁” his head went back as you followed his request, you pulling his chest closer to you as you dug your nails into his shoulder, feeling like he was in your stomach.

your articulate hands ghosting over his features, staring at him in awe and bringing him back to reality. 

after he had been away for filming for months, you both had gotten back into things way too rough right away, not giving eachother time to get used to things again.

besides the rushed quickies in hotel rooms and before he slipped out of bed, absence had indeed made the heart grow fonder, you needed him to the point of tears.

you wanted him to be impossibly close to you, getting frustrated when the closest you could get was letting him be inside you.

he could tell by the way you hooked him closer to you and the way you always reached down to hold his hand that you didn’t need him to play out any scene with you, you just wanted him.

everything felt fuzzy to you as all of your senses were filled by him, genuinely all you could think about was him and the ways you could make him feel good.

clenching around him, he almost fell into you it was so good. slamming both your hands down into the mattress he lowly hummed into you as he kissed you slowly.

his grown out beard and mustache dragged on your chin but it just made you want him more.

“never wanna stop, just wanna stay here” you pushed out as you carded through his blonde hair.

he was needing rutting into you, his tamed patch of hair bumping into your clit making you see stars.

you could tell he was close by the way he was mumbling anything that came to his head into your ear.

“made me all scatterbrained, honey. cant even think when i’m inside you like this.” his voice was higher than usual and laced with need.

your hips were meeting his thrusts without you realizing, him encouraging it with his guided pushes to the back of your thigh.

“inside me please, just wanna feel close to you” you phrased your question as a statement, looking back up to him.

he nodded his head mindlessly as he worked his final thrusts into you, spilling into the condom.

feeling the warmth pushed you over the edge, crying out as he soothed you, working through his own release.

quickly pulling out, you whined as he shushed you. he quickly threw out the condom as you slowly came back.

he pushed back inside of you, bringing a smile to your face as you didn’t feel as cold and empty anymore.

he rolled both of you over, still inside you, pulled the covers over yourselves and tucked his chin on the top of your head, bringing you into him.

you drifted off to sleep last night full of good thoughts (and austin.)

#austin butler smut #elvis smut #austin butler #elvis 2022 #austin elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #sebastian kydd #the carrie diaries #austin elvis imagine #austin butler imagine

[ne-nene-ne]

Imagine being Nagi’s crush and Reo getting jealous, unsure whether it's because you're taking Nagi's attention or because he also likes you

seishiro nagi × fem!reader × reo mikage

- nagi is the primary love interest while reo has a one-sided crush on you (mostly from his pov too)

- includes a smidge of angst I'd say, (well actually not just a smidge teehee)

When Nagi was developing a crush on you, Reo was the first to notice. You were classmates, and you caught Nagi’s attention by playing the same mobile video game he did.

As Nagi was walking through the school yard with Reo, his ears perked up when he heard the familiar sounds of attacking noises and fanfare from his beloved game. Following the source of the sound, he found you, sitting on the bench and indeed playing the same video game that he did. You seemed so happy in your own little world that he didn't want to bother you. Instead, he would often peek behind your shoulder at a distance to see your progress. Your gaming tactics interested him.

Reo found the whole thing amusing at first. He elbowed Nagi lightly, "Why not just approach her and ask her about it instead of watching her like a creep?" Reo wouldn’t have encouraged him if he knew how this would eventually play out.

Nagi took his advice and approached you during those rare moments when you were having difficulty defeating a boss. You were incredibly concentrated on your phone screen, with your brows furrowed and teeth subtly biting your lower lip. It was an unusual sight to see that he finally felt the need to step in.

"Use that spell and use that attack at the same time, he'll be much easier to defeat", he says, earning a startled reaction from you as the silver-haired boy seemed to appear out of nowhere. Yet, you do as he says and end up finishing off the boss with ease.

You say your thanks, introduce yourselves, and segway into talking more about the game (and also exchange player ID's). The two of you began talking to each other more often.

This would be the beginning of Reo's 'dislike' for you.

Reo's irritation would increase when Nagi noticeably had you on his mind constantly.

Even with Reo next to him, Nagi's mind would still wander off to you. “I wonder if she’s online…”, he'd mutter and frequently check his phone, hoping that your active status would be green. The fact that Nagi would check nearly every 2 minutes particularly pissed him off.

In class, Nagi would come over to your desk, pull up a chair, whip his phone out, and you two would play the video game together. Poor Reo would be off to the side, sulking while his eyes were drilling holes into you. He'd be muttering to himself.

So what if you liked the same game as Nagi? What made you so special? Was it the way you'd sweetly smile at him whenever you saw him coming? Or was it the way your eyes lit up whenever he gave you a helpful tip to win? And that soft laugh whenever you thought he was being a bit silly. How annoying… Your blatant 'flirting' was irritating the hell out of him.

Reo was cut off from his thoughts when you suddenly called his name, beckoning him to come over with that same sweet smile of yours. And for a reason he couldn't comprehend, it made his heart beat a little bit quicker. What did you possibly want from him? He swallowed thickly as he approached you two. Turns out you wanted to learn how he and Nagi got into soccer as you noticed them practicing on the field after school.

'Is this your attempt to be nice? How dare you try to act so considerate when you're the root of the problem. I don't need your pity', Reo would think. Yet, he found himself answering all of your questions so willingly. Your eyes, brimming with genuine curiosity, were getting to him as he spoke that he ended up inviting you to watch their practice without thinking. Of course, you said yes.

Before he could come up with something to change your mind, the teacher came in and began class. He mentally punched himself. What was he doing? You were the enemy and he invited you to spend more time with them. But those eyes– It was those bright eyes that gazed at him while he spoke of his passions that got him carried away. He wanted more of it. You found his weak spot and he hated it.

And so you'd show up to their practices to watch them play. The moment both boys saw your figure waving at them, they'd instinctively try to show off. For Nagi, he hadn't realized it himself until he thought it odd that he wanted to put in a little more effort that day. (but that was just the effect you had on him). And for Reo, well, he just reasoned that if anyone at all was watching him, there's no doubt he'd want to look great.

But halfway through practice, he questioned himself. What was the use? You were looking at Nagi most of the time and not him anyway.

You had gained more of their affection when you brought them their favorite drinks and snacks once practice was over. Nagi would definitely eat most of the snacks you brought while you and Reo had to scold him to not eat either of yours. A muffled, "Thanks for the snacks, y/n" would come out of Nagi's mouth, now full of chips, and Reo would mutter a small "...thanks" (If you tell him to speak up or that you couldn't hear him, you'd get a rise out of him for sure, hehe)

And this would sorta be your routine with them. You would watch and wait for them to be done with practice and you three would hang out together afterwards.

Rather, in Reo's pov, it was more like you and Nagi hanging out while he was basically just third-wheeling, no matter how much you attempted to include him in your conversations with Nagi.

The interactions you two had were just different. The looks, smiles, and light touches that you'd give to Nagi weren’t the same ones you'd give to him. It was frustrating that what he wanted was right there but he could never have it.

And so maybe he could finally admit to himself that he's just jealous– Jealous that you were stealing both his best friend and his heart.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #bllk x reader #honestly idk how i felt about writing this one #i started off with a simple love triangle idea but idek what i came up with lol #this one just seems so loooong in comparison to the first two posts i made #and what type of writing would you even call this? cause they're not even pure headcanons #it's like a mix of drabble + hcs? #someone help me pls #also that ending sounds kinda cheesy haha #but whatevs #rip reo #now I'm thinking of writing nagi bf hcs which will most likely be shorter than this #should i make a writing blog?? #I'll think about it #nagi x reader #reo x reader

[midnightlizard]

Andy h x reader

I loveeeee the fics that are like the 5 times so and so ALMOST kissed And the time they did plzzzz something like that but if not. If you refuseeeeee I would loveee for a fic with like the station trying to set them up during Christmas with like mistletoe and stuff orrr just setting them up period with no Christmas teehee kinda a bit of a rant…

😘

-🖇

Took us long enough

Andy Herrera x gn! reader

Summary: four times you and Andy almost kiss, and the one time you actually do

A/N: hello and tysm for the request!! I love these types of fics too (I'm actually writing one with another character) so this was super fun to make. I also tried to mix the two ideas together, hope you like it!

Warnings: alcohol intake, mutual pining, sex innuendos

Word count: 6326

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1

"oh captain my captain" your boots echoed into the kitchen as you made your presence known, leaning with your hands on the counter.

"I'm not your captain (Y/L/N), you know that" Andy replied, not raising her head from the toast she was preparing.

"but you're my favorite captain" you shrugged your shoulders, then quickly turned to look at the door "don't tell Sullivan I said that"

Her focus was still on your previous words, so she could only mindlessly laugh at that.

Andy was used to your flattery, this was definitely nothing new, but it never failed to make her blush.

"why are you here all alone by the way?" you asked, stealing her food.

"Hughes, Bishop and Miller are on a call, the others are doing chores. And that-" she slammed her hand on the counter "-is my breakfast"

You reached for the bowl in the middle of the marble top, grabbing an apple and handing it to the brunette

"here's your breakfast, no need to thank me"

Andy raised her eyebrows at your smirk, shifting her gaze from your eyes to the fruit next to your face.

"how's your butt? Birdie told me you fell down the stairs on the last call"

The last call you were on had a big case of termites, and no one living there ever bothered to do anything about it.

So, when you were called because they heard the floor squeaking and you tried to get the old lady out, the wooden stairs failed on you.

Thankfully no one got hurt, except your butt.

"oh my butt's just fine. I don't know if I can say the same about yours"

She tilted her head to the side, silently questioning you. Her lips curled into an amused smile.

"birdie told me," and you both knew you were referring to the same birdie

"you got lucky last night, some 'handsome hair guy' gave you his number" you took another bite of her, your, food.

"well, not that it's any of your business" Andy started and crossed her arms, drawing a step closer to you.

You two were nothing, you two have never been anything but friends. Close friends even, yea sure, but not even between best friends there's usually this...tension.

A touch of a hand or a brush of a shoulder, or the look of encouragement shared before going inside of burning building; all of this was definitely not just friendly, and you could both feel it.

But none of you ever acted on it, for whatever reason.

So, even though it was none of your business, Andy wanted to made sure you knew the truth.

"his number was all I got, I didn't call him"

"ohw, are you scared to go on a date Herrera?" you challenged, lowering your head so your faces were even closer. "is it been that long since your last kiss?"

In a way, you weren't wrong. In the last few months, whenever Andy tried to get with someone, let it be a one night stand or a coffee date, it never felt right.

And she never wanted to admit to herself why it felt wrong, so she just put the dating scene aside, avoiding casual hook ups and flirting with strangers.

But you weren't a stranger.

And to say the tension was a secret would be a great lie. Everyone with working eyeballs could see it, and they all had things to say about it too.

But they don't always notice when they're interrupting a moment,

like Travis right now, barging into the room with his loud voice.

"what's for breakfast? I'm so hun- oh"

he stopped in his tracks, after seeing the position you two were in, making you take a step back from each other.

"did I interrupt something, cause I can go back and we can pretend I was never here"

"no nothing happ-, don't worry about it Travis" you waved your toast in the air, dismissing his entertained expression.

Andy brought her hands on her hips, still trying to wrap her head about what could have happened.

"and there's nothing for breakfast, it was Miller's turn but he's on a call"

The woman then turned to you, and leaned over you to grab the apple you offered her moments ago.

"you're lucky if you can make yourself a toast"

It was meant for Travis, but she never took her eyes off you, watching you take the last bite of her food, smirk on your lips.

2

Vic's posture was slouched and her lips were slightly moving as she counted the money in her hands.

You entered the break room and took a seat on the sofa across from her.

"are you handing out free cash?"

She didn't take her eyes off the bills, afraid she might lose count.

"I'm handling a bet actually, don't distract me"

At that, you let out a sound of surprise, clearly exited

"who are we betting on? I want in"

"I don't you can, since we're betting on you" Vic counted the money again, then put it in her back pocket.

"when are you going to man up and ask Andy out?"

You groaned at her words, throwing your head back onto the backrest of the couch.

"why are you even betting on that? I'm not going to, we're just friends"

It took Vic all her strength not to burst out laughing at you. And you don't think you would have blamed her either.

"alright. Who says I will?"

"oh everyone actually" she shrugged her shoulders, plainly amused by your reaction, "we're just betting on when it's going to happen"

"you're impossible" you replied, knowing damn well you would have loved this bet if it were about anyone else.

"and you're in love with Andy" she accused, slapping your shoulder.

And while you were having this conversation, Andy's day was not going very differently.

"I'm not in love with (Y/N), Maya"

Andy and Maya were assigned with cleaning the lockers room and the blonde tried to make it not so boring with some light conversation, except it wasn't all that fun to the other woman.

"oh come on everyone can see that"

"then everyone is blind" she stopped removing dust from one of the helmets to look at her best friend.

"why are you so persistent on denying it Andy?" the task at hand was long gone by now, and the two were just talking

"You used to tell me everything about Gibson or Tanner or anyone, why won't you tell me about them?"

"because-" the brunette raised her arms in the air, one of her hands still holding the rag she was using to clean the gear

"there's nothing to talk about, we're just friends"

Maya wanted to scoff, or laugh at her face, but much like Vic did, she kept to herself, returning her attention to her assignment.

"besides, why are you so sure they're into me?" she asked after a second of silence, keeping her eyes on the dirty lockers.

If you were into her, she wanted to know. Just out of curiosity, nothing more.

The other firefighter raised an eyebrow, then proceeded to shrug, before answering.

"the way they look at you, the way they talk to you, the way they look at your-" she was stopped just in time by the shirt Andy threw at her face.

"that's just...flirting" Andy tried to justify your behavior, but for some reason she didn't believe it, didn't want to

"they're flirty, I'm flirty, it's just a way to keep things interesting around here. Sorry you're too uptight to understand that"

"oh I'm too uptight?" Maya pointed a finger at herself, laughing in disbelief.

"okay so you're telling me," she put the false accusation aside

"that if you let your hair down, undid a couple of buttons, and swayed your hips, they wouldn't try to sleep with you? not even try to kiss you?" she challenged, pointing with her fingers at every part of her body she was talking about.

Maya enjoyed the hesitation on Andy's face.

"no, they wouldn't." she settled on.

"okay. Let's test it out"

"what?"

"let's test it out" the blonde repeated "and if they really don't try anything, I'll stop insisting"

Andy bit the inside of her cheeks, pondering her answer. She really wanted to get Maya off her back, but she didn't know if she was ready to face the truth.

"(Y/L/N), lieutenant Herrera wants to see you, in the lockers room" Maya's head appeared into the break room, making Vic raise her eyebrows and voice her thoughts in a teasing tone.

"wonder what the lieutenant wants in the room where everyone goes to get naked"

"you're insufferable" you glared at the woman, getting up from the couch. You would have said something else, but by Maya's choise of words it was probably something important, so you let her go.

"thanks Bishop" you nodded your head, exiting the room.

Unbeknownst to you, as soon as they were left alone, the two women instantly started gossiping about their recent conversations.

"lieutenant, Bishop said you wanted to see me?" you asked as you appeared into the room.

"lieutenant? so I'm not your captain anymore, (Y/L/N)?"

You were left with your mouth agape for a couple of seconds, you only called her that way when the situation wasn't serious.

"you..needed my help, as my lieutenant?"

"I needed your advice actually, on something not really work related" she explained, and you relaxed a bit.

"sure, ask away" you shrugged, leaning your back on one of the lockers.

"you think this is appropriate, for a date?" she opened her arms to better show her outfit, which was just her uniform. The only thing that really changed was her wavy hair, now free from the ponytail she always had at work.

You blinked a few times, before nodding

"uh I guess? perfect for an after shift day"

"do I know them?" she saw you fiddle with one of the hanging coats, but she didn't mention it, "another firefighter? someone you met at the bar, or-"

you turned to look at her, "mister 'handsome hair guy', you finally called him?"

"are you jealous, (Y/L/N)?" Andy squinted her eyes, and made a show of crossing her arms, making you follow the movement.

That was a big mistake, because now you were hyper aware of the few buttons missing from her shirt.

She took a step closer.

"why would I?" you licked your lips, and mimicked her action. Neither of you noticed, but those two steps were enough to get the two of you face to face.

"do you want me, to be jealous?" you lowered your voice, two of your fingers slipping into the loop of her pants, pulling her towards you.

"I-" her breath seemed to get stuck in her throat and her arms threatened to fall to her sides.

"(Y/N).." she whispered, and you could feel the word on your lips.

"Aid car 19. Medical response requested" the loud voice echoed into the silent locker room, but it didn't interrupt your staring contest.

"I'm on aid car today" you explained, and you knew you could get an earful from captain Sullivan if you didn't run to the truck right that instant, but you couldn't get your legs to move.

And Andy wasn't helping at all.

"I know"

"Aid car 19. Medical response requested"

"(Y/L/N), you ready?" you heard another voice yell from the other room.

This time, you took a step back.

"coming Warren" you yelled back, making sure he heard you.

"I have to go" you said, with more urgency then before, and all you got back was a distant nod.

"you'd look great in anything, by the way" you added once you had one foot out of the door, then shut it quickly behind you, missing the blush that covered Andy's cheeks at your comment.

3

The sound of the big door opening and the motor of the engine shutting off made your ears perk up, and you turned to see half the team getting out of the truck.

The captain instantly went to his office, but that's where he always was when he wasn't on a call, so that didn't surprise you.

What surprised you was that a certain brunette didn't even spare you a glance, going up the stairs.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her behavior, but you couldn't catch her attention as the man on the phone was still talking your ear off, and you were trying really hard not to be rude.

"and I'm sorry that happened, sir, but you can't call the fire department for something like this" you pinched the bridge of your nose, hoping to end this as soon as possible.

When he repeated the same problem for the third time you restrained a groan, leaning back on the chair, making someone laugh behind you.

You craned your neck to look at her, then motioned for her to come closer with your hand.

"there's nothing we can do sir, if someone stole your car you need to call the police, not us"

Maya laughed again at your words, leaning on the counter beside the phone.

"yes, yes, hope you can get it back, yes, goodbye" your tone grew more impatient with every word, until you finally ended the call, slamming the phone back on the table.

"desk duty is so fun right?" she mocked you, and she was less then effected by your glare.

"yea sure, that's what I dreamed about when I applied to be a firefighter" sarcasm laced your answer.

"hey uhm" you stalled for a second, Maya was acting normally, but it was very weird for Andy to ignore you, unless she wasn't in the mood to interact with anyone

"did anything happen on the last call?"

You saw her shake her head, almost confused by the question.

"I don't know, Andy seemed weird. But, she probably didn't see me" you tried to reason, but Maya nodding her head made you rethink what you said.

"nothing happened, but you should go talk to her"

Even though her words did nothing but fuel your confusion, you briefly thanked her, then went up the stairs.

You mindlessly played with your fingers as you paced back and forth in the hallway; despite Maya's words, you still didn't know if bothering Andy would be a great idea.

Maybe she wanted her space, that's why she ran straight to her room, or maybe she didn't have the courage to ask for the help she needed.

While your head was busy thinking about different scenarios, your feet made the decision for you, stopping you in your tracks, and your knuckles tapped two times on the wooden door.

Andy heard you calling out her name, and much like you did moments ago, debated whether or not to let you in.

A whole minute has passed with her biting her lip in thought, and keeping her eyes everywhere but on the door itself.

And when she finally made her decision, she was afraid it was now too late.

"come in"

To her surprise, you had been standing there the whole time, turning the handle at her words, and stepping slowly into the room.

She moved to one side of the bed, to make room for you. And you mimicked her position, leaning your back on the wall.

Since you didn't know what she needed just yet, you meant to stay silent, but she was the first one to break the silence.

"she would have died"

She kept her gaze ahead, even when your head turned to look at her.

"if the team followed my lead, she would have died."

"what are you saying Andy?" you whispered, noticing how she took her time to form words; and when she did, her words were hardly coherent.

"on the call, Sullivan asked me if I had a plan, and I had one. But we ended up doing as he said" she paused, her gaze falling to the hands on her lap "and thank god we did, because if we waited like i suggested she would have died. And it would have been my fault"

"but she didn't"

"yea because I'm not a captain, (Y/N)" for the first time she looked back at you, with furrowed eyebrows and a pleading look in her eyes.

"I've been so fixated on thinking I should be the captain because my dad was, that maybe- maybe I don't deserve it" she concluded, lightly shaking her head.

It was no secret that having Sullivan as a captain has been hard on everyone. You could handle a strict leadership, sure, you were used to hostile situations anyway, but this team has always felt like a home, and someone suddenly entered the family, altering its balance.

And it was definetly no secret that the one who has suffered the most from it was Andy. She had to see her father step down, and the station she grew up in being commanded by someone else, someone who knew nothing about any member of the team.

She tried not to let it show, always claiming she accepted the change, and just wanted to make a good impression on the new captain.

But you could see how it was eating her alive.

You reached for her hand, linking your fingers together. You didin't say anything, waiting for her to look at you, and she did.

"we don't know what could have happened" you whispered "maybe you would have changed your mind halfway through, or you would have taken your teammate idea and changed the plan. You would have saved her, I'm sure of it"

Judging by her silence, you thought she was considering your words, until you heard her take a sharp breath in, and her hand in yours briefly loosened it's grip.

She was finding it harder and harder to keep eye contact, she felt the corners of her eyes burning, and if it were anyone else right now she would have just asked them to leave.

But you weren't anyone else, and she found herself hanging onto your every word, your tone showing a warmth only the touch of your hand could recreate, and with the way you were looking at her, she has never felt more naked, more vulnerable.

"you don't know that" she breathed out, sounding almost defeated.

"no I don't" you admitted, because you didn't. "but I know that you would have done anything in your power to save everyone, like you always do, as a captain or a lieutenant or as a person. I would follow you into a building on the verge of collapsing if you told me to do so, which could happen tomorrow" she lightly chucked, knowing this was a very plausible scenario.

Your tone became serious again, "because I know you pondered every other possibility, and I trust you to make the right choice." your tongue came out to swipe against your lips, and Andy couldn't help but follow the action with her eyes

"I mean it when I say you're the best captain this station could ever have"

"(Y/N)..." she didn't know why she called your name, you were right there, but you were the only thing on her mind at this point.

You were so close to her, she just head to tilt her head and she would feel the lips that uttered such comforting words on hers.

But when she scooted closer, or maybe it was your doing, you blinked rapidly, almost as if you just realized what was about to happen, then cleared your throat.

"you should get some sleep"

You almost regretted your words as you took in the hurt expression on her face. You would have wanted nothing more than to allow her to zero the distance, to finally give clarity to this weird relationship between you two, but you didn't want to take advantage of her vulnerable state, and confuse the need of comfort with love.

"I'll see you after my shift?" you forced yourself to ask as you got up from her bed when she made no move to talk.

"yea" she only noticed you getting to her door when her hand started to get cold again.

"thank you"

"anytime" you replied softly, then closed the door behind you.

4

You took another sip from your cold beer, while you leaned your back on the wall.

You stopped interacting with the others a little while ago, just content with listening to them talk.

To be honest you weren't really following what they were saying, all became a blur to you after the second, or the third beer, but you could recognize their light tones and careless laughs, making you feel at ease.

You could make out Travis and Jack's voice, with some interventions from Dean here and there, probably warning them not to get their feet on his coffee table.

You could also make out the sound of the water by the deck slowly moving with the wind.

The one sound that came crystal clear to your ears was a certain brunette's laugh as she talked with her friend a few feet away from you.

Even if Andy, and Vic for that matter, caught you looking in their direction multiple times, you could just say that you were looking at the water behind them, not that they would believe you. Vic definitely wouldn't.

As you raised the bottle to your lips you found your mouth empty, and a little frown took over your face.

You didn't bother warning the others, it's not like you were participating in the conversation, and headed inside.

And once you were back in the house the lack of the wind running through your hair made your cheeks feel really warm, making you realize they were probably red on the outside.

You actually went inside to get another beer or something to eat, but once your eyes landed on it, you couldn't resist the couch in the middle of the room.

"careful with your head like that, you might throw up"

it was only a few seconds of you sitting on the couch with your head leaned back in the air over the headrest until you heard her soft voice, and her heels coming closer to you.

"and you followed me to make sure I wouldn't?" you changed position, guided by her hand on the back of your neck, and saw her sitting next you.

"it was more so you wouldn't get another beer" she chuckled, turning so her middle was facing you.

"I wasn't going to get another beer" you lied.

She began speaking again, about what you didn't know, you weren't even sure she was talking; you could just see the way her lips moved, lips that had much more lipstick earlier this evening, she must have removed it by accident with a napkin after eating.

Her makeup was still on point though, you saw her subtly checking it with her phone before, but you were too far away to tell her it was perfect.

You were used to her wearing make up, she did that for a night out or, in this case, when you had little parties at Dean's house.

But there was one thing you didn't see often.

"what are thinking about?" her words finally entered your brain, making you blink rapidly.

Your voice came out slightly unsteady, but Andy was the only one to notice

"your hair"

"my hair?" she raised her eyebrows, cackling.

Between the alcohol turning your gears and her laugh stopping them, you struggled to find your next words "yea it's-" you scooter closer, one hand reaching to twirl a lock of her hair between your fingers "-different, I like it on you"

She got out a small "thank you" as she saw you playing with the ends of her curly hair, and she could feel your breath on her collarbone from the way you were leaning into her.

"sorry, I don't want to ruin it" you apologized, letting your hand fall next to her thigh.

When you raised your head to look at her you found her really close to your face, lips mere inches away from each other.

"it's okay" she reassured in a whisper, but she had a feeling your head was somewhere else.

In a bold act, probably guided by the alcohol, you propped yourself up on the couch to get even closer to the brunette, and closed your eyes.

You opened them again when you felt a hand on your chest, Andy's fingers gently grabbing the fabric of your shirt.

Her mouth was still agape, trying to grasp the right words.

"you're drunk" she whispered, but it felt more like an inconvenience rather than a statement.

She didn't give you time to reply and just got up from the couch, excusing herself as she went back outside.

Even after you were left alone, your eyes were still on the same spot were Andy was seated, trying to translate abstract thoughts.

Then, letting out a big sigh, you resumed your position on the couch.

And suddenly, the alcohol in your system wasn't nearly enough to stop you from realizing what you just did.

And how Andy reacted.

You felt the couch dip beside you, and it was only then you reopened your eyes, finding Maya next to you.

You two sat silently for a while, she didn't drink as much as you did, but you could see the light redness on her cheeks and her relaxed eyebrows.

She probably came in here to get away from the voices that seemed to get louder every second; as some of them tended to get loud when drunk.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out in a whisper.

"I almost kissed her"

And if you weren't so distracted you would have slapper her for the surprised laugh she let out

"you what?"

"I almost kissed her" you repeated, this time louder "and she pulled away"

While you were looking at the ceiling you missed the way the blonde fully turned her body towards you, adjusting one leg under the other. She squinted her eyes, almost hoping you were so drunk it was all just incoherent blabbing

"what do you mean she pulled away?"

"she pulled away, she rejected me, she refused me, she turned me down- is it clear now?" you asked sarcastically, placing the empty bottle that was still in your hand on the coffee table in front of you.

The blonde furrowed her eyebrows, deeply confused with this turn of events.

"...Andy?"

"yes Maya, Andy. Who do you think I'm in love with?" normally you would have never let something so big slip, especially when she was in the other room, but you were too drunk and confused and hurt and tired to care about filtering your words.

Thankfully she didn't make it a big deal, and tried her best to comfort you. Truth was, Maya herself didn't know how to help you, she was so sure Andy had feelings for you that she couldn't think of any reason why she did what she did.

So, when they all got back inside to end the night and Andy saw you sleeping on her shoulder, and offered to drive you home, Maya tightened the hold on your shirt, stating you didn't need it, and you could just sleep at Dean's for the night.

You made sure to thank Maya the morning after at the station, while feeling a pair of eyes on the back of your back.

5

After the "accident" at Dean's house, you expected Andy to treat you differently, or even to avoid you, but to your surprise she acted normally around you.

Or at least she tried to.

While you tried to pretend nothing ever happened that night, for Andy's sake, Andy couldn't stop thinking about it.

It was not the first time you almost kissed, so it shouldn't bother her this much; but it was the first time she pulled away.

This time there was no call, no one entering the room, no one interrupting them but herself.

She tried telling herself that you didn't really want it, that you were too drunk to actually realize what you tried to do, but it was all just an excuse not to blame herself.

Every time you looked at her she couldn't get the image of your eyes closed and your red cheeks out of her head, every time you talked to her, Andy couldn't stop thinking about how you so softly complimented her hair, and it was becoming harder and harder not to confront you.

But thankfully, with your line of work, she was able to put personal business aside and just treat you like a coworker.

"(Y/L/N), Bishop, what's the situation?" your lieutenant asked through the radio.

She was assigned by the captain to the hoses outside the condo with Montgomery and Hughes, while you and Maya had to go inside the building to check where the smoke was coming from.

"we're on the fifth floor for now, there's still no fire but I'm starting to smell the smoke" the blonde replied, before shutting down the communication.

"you know what I was thinking about" she started, casting you a quick look and seeing your raised eyebrow through the mask before continuing "Andy's been acting weird around you"

"yea I wonder why" you sarcastically remarked, ignoring her laugh.

"no I mean, good weird. She looks at you more from across the room, she always seats beside you during breakfast, she asks you how you are during a call" she finished, referring to what she did a few seconds ago.

"she asked us" you clarified "and she is not acting any different, you're seeing things"

Not that Maya told you, but after that night Andy came to her to confide in her best friend, and finally told her the truth.

"I think you should tell her how you feel, maybe she just needs to hear you say it" she encouraged you, now that she knew both sides she couldn't help but try to push you in the right direction and end this endless pining.

Without stopping, you answered "oh you want me to be direct? Sure" you mimicked her action, shrugging your shoulders "do you remember when I tried to kiss you and you pulled away? yea well, I wanted to tell you that I really like you, in case you wanted to turn me down a second time."

You scoffed at your own words and turned a corner, but when you saw her stopping in her tracks you also stopped, confused.

"there's the smoke" she announced, making you look at the apartment at the end of the hallway, and while she ran towards the door, you opened your radio.

"captain, we found the source, east side of the building. We're going in"

Turns out the apartment belonged to a single mother and while she was distracted by her kids the stove she was cooking breakfast on caught on fire, and the flames instantly engulfed the door, forcing her to hide in the other room with her two boys.

While Maya helped the woman and the kids evacuate the building, you stayed behind to extinguish what was left of the fire.

After receiving confirmation that there wasn't anyone else left in the apartment, you got out of the building to finally get some fresh air.

You sat at the back of the engine, with the oxygen mask covering half of your face. You were looking in front of you at the smoke slowly disappearing when suddenly someone blocked the sun from hitting the side of your face, making you look up at her.

"you're using our vics' masks" Andy leaned on the door of truck, but made no move to grab the device.

"oh I didn't know-" you went to take it off your face, but her hand on your wirst and her laugh stopped you.

"I'm kidding, they used it while you were inside." she explained with a smile. But then it seemed to falter for a second "are you okay? Maya said it shouldn't have taken you that long to extinguish the fire. I could have sent someone up to help you."

You closed one eye and furrowed your eyebrows when her new position exposed you to the sun once again, but you kept on looking at her with the other eye.

You found it cute how she offered you help without realizing she couldn't have made that decision by herself anyway.

"don't worry about it captain, I was just checking for any gas leaks" the fake title rolling off your tongue as sweetly as the last time you used it a couple of weeks ago.

She saw you putting the oxygen mask behind you and let her gaze fall to the ground. When she finally told Maya how she feels about you, the blonde never revealed what she knew about your own feelings, and only told her to "go for it", which didn't help. at all.

"what's up with you?" your fingers reached for her belt loops and brought her closer. Andy widened her eyes slightly in surprise but when she noticed your relazed eyebrows, she realized you just moved her to block the sun.

"what do you mean? I'm fine" she knew it was useless with you, but she still tried to play dumb.

"I know you Andy, I can see when you're lost in your thoughts"

You gave her time to answer but she took it to look at your features.

The full face mask you wore before made your hair messier that they normally were, and your uniform had now dust and ash traces. Since her body covered the sun from hitting your face she couldn't see the brightness she was used to admire in your eyes, but they still held the same softness they always held while you were looking at her.

What she couldn't really take her eyes off where your cheeks. Being close to the fire made your body temperature grow, and gave your cheeks the same hue they had the night at Dean's house.

And that made Andy think.

Maybe your action weren't completely controlled by the alcohol.

In a spur of confidence, Andy grabbed your rosy cheeks, bringing you closer to her. And suddenly, much to your surprise, her lips where on yours.

You put one hand behind you so you wouldn't fall on your back with the force she was using, while your other hand went to reach behind her neck.

Andy could almost taste the smoke you inhaled minutes before, but the fact that you were kissing her back was enough to make up for it.

When she pulled away and straightened her back from the uncomfortable arch it was in, you slowly reopened your eyes and you honestly couldn't tell who looked more surprised.

"I thought-" the hand on your cheeck was making it just that bit harder for you to think "when I tried to kiss you-"

"you were drunk" she replied "I wasn't sure you really wanted it and I didn't want to finally kiss you when you wouldn't be able to remember the next day"

You kept looking between her eyes during the explanation, your hand going back to her waist mid speech.

"I will definitely remember now" you remarked, before pulling her in a second kiss.

Before you could detach yourself from her lips, you heard someone's footsteps coming towards you, then a loud cheer sounded from behind Andy.

"I see you two finally did it"

"and now I don't have to keep your secrets anymore" Maya added, following Vic.

"wait you knew? why didn't you tell me, Andy?" Vic looked between the two women,

"because you suck at keeping secrets Vic" the woman next to you answered, crossing her arms. She shifted her weight, slightly leaning into you hand still resting on her side.

"you really do, Vi" you chuckled, backing Andy up.

"yea whatever you know what?" she pointed at the both of you "I still won the bet, so thank you anyway, love birds" Vic proudly announced, but before getting in the back of the engine, she turned to the blonde once again

"and you're not getting anything, since you already knew"

At that, Maya groaned, following her "oh come on, that's not fair"

Their argument got lost on you as you turned back to look at Andy, who looked both amused and confused. She probably wasn't aware of the bet.

You got up and kissed her cheek to bring her attention back to you.

"do you want to drive?" she asked after a second, knowing that with her as lieutenant you'd sit next to her.

"yea, I'd like that. And,"

you took a step forward, your lips hovering hers "we can talk about this later?"

She nodded with a smile, but when she tried to close the distance, Travis honking from the aid car startled her.

He was a few meters away, so he wasn't able to see what was happening, or he would have never interrupted.

But Andy decided right this moment that she didn't want to get interrupted by anyone anymore, so she put her arms around your neck, and leaned in to kiss you again.

"let's go back, before we get another call" she spoke up once she separated from you, then walked past you to get into the passenger's seat.

And as soon as you started the engine, you heard Andy's incredulous voice, making you laugh out loud

"why did no one tell me about the bet?"

Andy Herrera Masterlist

Station 19 Masterlist - General Masterlist

#andy herrera x reader #andy herrera #andy x reader #station 19 x reader #station 19

[sttoru]

toji taking care of newborn megumi while reader sleeps?

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. gumi isnt rlly a newborn but we ball. use of curse words teehee

“tch—i’m really regretting buyin’ this thing.” toji was running out of patience as he reads the instructions on the piece of paper in his hands. it was all so vague; he’s questioning himself for even trying to figure this stuff out in the first place.

the small coos and babbles coming from megumi sound throughout the living room, the baby sitting in the pillow fort that his dad made him. the correct name would actually be ‘pillow jail’, since the fort wasn’t built for megumi’s entertainment—it was mainly to keep the little boy confined so toji could peacefully work on setting up the playhouse.

your husband was so intensly focused on putting the playhouse together to the point that he didn’t even notice the little thief escaping his self-made jail.

megumi was crawling on his hands and knees, his palms making soft ‘pat’ sounds as they came in contact with the cold floor, pouty lips forming a smile as he crawled his way over to his dad. toji had his back facing megumi, giving the kid a good opportunity to sneak up on him.

“fuck.” toji curses idly as his hand slipped and his finger bumped against his own face. not thinking much about that slip-up, the man continues to put the parts together, until he feels something tugging at his shirt from behind.

toji glances down and spots his son trying to climb up on his back—the journey up to toji’s broad shoulders was like climbing a mountain for such a little thing.

“phack!” the cute voice from below repeats what it has heard with confidence. megumi used all of his strength to reach up to his dad’s shoulders, repeating the used swear word proudly, a series of ‘phack! phack! phack!’ echoing louder in toji’s ears with each movement upwards.

the kid eventually reaches his destination, head placed right next to toji’s, chubby arms circling around his dad’s neck—basically hanging on for dear life.

toji wasn’t even concerned about megumi repeating that bad word over and over. how his son had managed to break free from his confinement was of more importance. his green eyes land on the destroyed pillow fort behind his back and your husband couldn’t help but chuckle. almost proudly.

“i see y’re already outsmarting your dad, kiddo.” toji grins, one hand coming up to stabilise megumi on his back. the baby looks over his father’s shoulder, seemingly inspecting what he was building. toji sighs as his free hand holds onto the piece of paper that included the instructions; “maybe ya could’ve even helped me build this shitty thing if ya knew how to read.”

“sjiddy!”

it was as if megumi was purposely only picking out the curse words. toji chuckles at this and—unlike any other parent—encourages his child to continue for his own entertainment.

“mhm—tha’s right. repeat after me, son.” the dark-haired man nods with a smug grin and points at the half-built playhouse, making sure megumi knew what he was talking about, “that thing is shitty.”

“sjiddy! sjiddy!” the kid repeats loudly and giggles as his father ruffles his hair afterwards in a ‘job-well-done’ manner.

“good boy.” toji laughs softly, moving megumi over to his lap so it’d be more comfortable for the both of them, “y’r momma is gonna kill me if she hears you say such things, though.”

megumi tilts his head up until it rested against toji’s torso, big eyes glancing at the face hovering on top of his; “mama? mama ‘eepy.”

“no, mama isn’t.”

toji freezes in place, megumi gasps in delight. you had awoken from your nap and decided to check in on your husband and son whom you had left alone for a few hours.

and, apparently, you couldn’t leave toji and megumi alone without it ending in your kid picking up on his dad’s bad habits.

you put your hands on your hips and glared at toji. he knew what time it was and he was not about to sit through another lecture. the last time you gave him an earful, he had to sit and listen to you scold him for almost an hour.

“shit.. gotta run.” toji immediately grabs tightly onto megumi, gets up and prepares to flee—not even realising that he cursed. again.

“sjit!” megumi giggles happily, the boy just having fun as his dad runs around with him, unaware of the reason nor of the meaning behind the words he was repeating.

“mama shit!” toji’s eyes widened as he heard megumi combine the two words; mama—megumi’s favourite word—and shit, the bad word your son had just learnt.

your husband knew that that would only increase your fury more and thus shushes his kid while running around the house—your quick footsteps just meters behind them;

“crap. shut it, megumi.”

“crap! dada crap!”

“…”

guess he had it coming.

#ෆ : parenting 101. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x you #toji fluff #jjk fic

[darlingkirstein]

eremika in any sort of romcom setting hehe

i think this is romcom-y enough??? idk it's a silly little meet cute in fantastically cheesy unrealistic scenario so i think it fits the romcom vibe Teehee🩷 hope you enjoy my pookie wookie vic <3

actor au / fluffy / rated e for everyone / 3.6k

Mikasa toils over the counter, sifting through the different orders — many have rather well-renowned names attached — to decide which ones to tackle first. Being a barista proves more difficult than she initially imagined. All she needed was a simple job to help pay the rent; the coffee shop being on a movie studio lot has been an added bonus, a chance to mingle with stars.

And by mingle, she means floundering interactions with the latest growing stars with their persnickety drink orders, some quick to complain at the smallest errors. Whenever she gets the opportunity to see someone whose likeness is stamped on a poster in her room, Mikasa mangles all attempts at compliments. Trying to praise their work only culminates in rosy cheeks and baffled looks shot back in return.

Exhaling, she gets to work, going through the orders in a procession ascending from least complicated to most tedious. Everyone seems to want extra toppings these days, extra pumps of artificial syrups that turn their 'coffee' into little more than an excessively-priced milkshake. Whatever gets them through the day, she supposes. Making a movie is tricky work.

Mikasa understands this. Sorta. Or at least, she's attempting to. The acting jobs haven't exactly been falling into her lap, though basic probability encourages her that at least one of these countless auditions have to turn into something. She's desperate for anything — at one of her past attempts, an audition for a medicine commercial, the casting agent giggled midway through her delivery of some poorly-written script. The best Mikasa's ever gotten was being an extra for an episode of a new television show — which was promptly cancelled after a first season.

She finishes an affogato and a raspberry danish for Marilyn Lawrence, lounging around on her lunch break from shooting Saturn's Divinity. It apparently takes too much effort to acknowledge Mikasa's calls of her name, too preoccupied by whatever's on her phone to pay much attention.

"Marilyn!" Mikasa repeats, nervous for yet another celebrity interaction. Lawrence only just won a BAFTA for her performance in This Holy House.

With a scoff, the actress strolls to the counter, barely mouthing a thanks before sulking back to a table, carrying all her actress-y things with.

It's hard not to feel like pond scum when the upper echelons of the acting world are hardly willing to spare her simple pleasantries, yet alone anything resembling kindness. Mikasa brushes it off, moving onto the next order.

She just gets started before Marilyn returns.

"This isn't gluten-free, is it?" The spiteful manner in which she asks has Mikasa stammering even before she attempts to answer her question.

"I, uh— I actually don't know. Let me check."

Flustered, she ducks down, foraging for a paper or manual that lists the ingredients. This is something Mikasa knows she should remember, but this job has squeezed out so much of her brain capacity that little else remains.

"You really don't remember?" Marilyn laughs, and Mikasa can hear her continued click-clacking on the phone keyboard, probably complaining to a friend. "You could've killed me, y'know. People have this little thing called celiac. It's important."

Mikasa suspects that Marilyn Lawrence does not have Celiac disease, but she isn't willing to invite even more wrath. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you're—"

"Whatever. Just figure it out and fix it."

When Mikasa falls quiet to continue her search, she expects the frustration to simmer; it doesn't, and Marilyn continues to berate her, though most of her comments are utterly nonsensical. Mikasa's manager is nowhere to be found, useless for getting her out of this less-than-lovely situation.

Her savior comes in the form of a grey-haired gentleman in a suit, bewildered as he bursts through the door, scanning everyone inside — until his gaze falls on Mikasa. He smiles, cell phone pressed tightly against his ear. Though she cannot pin down his name, Mikasa recognizes him as some movie producer, a real big shot.

"You there! Barista! Come with me."

Stunned, Mikasa points to her chest. "Me?"

Marilyn scoffs again. "Uh, hello? What about me?"

The man ignores the Hollywood A-lister, brushing past her to reach the counter. "Yes, you. We need you. I'll explain when we get there. Come on."

Head in a tizzy, Mikasa cocks her head — squinting her eyes, unsure that she isn't fast asleep in the clutches of a dream. What did some movie executive want with some barista?

"I— I think you have the wrong person."

"Jesus, there's no time for this." He turns to the side, muttering harsh words into the phone. "Yeah— I found someone. Just give us a second."

He turns his attention back to Mikasa.

"Are you gonna come with or not? We need you."

At this point, Marilyn has surpassed the angry-scolding-stage and lands in stunned silence. Mikasa still doesn't know what she's needed for, but angering a Hollywood exec is a surefire way to get blacklisted from any future opportunities. They don't want any dead weight in a cast.

"Uh, yeah— No, I'll— I'll go. I'll go."

Opportunities like this are so rare. Mikasa gets so consumed by this fleeting chance that angering her boss isn't even a concern she consciously entertains. As the executive's eyes burn a hole through her head, she feels hypnotized to untie her apron, tossing it aside. It's tempting to pinch her arm, still convinced of a REM-induced trick, but before she can ponder it, Mikasa is crossing the counter, calling her co-worker's name.

The coffee shop's manager finally appears, and as Mikasa is whisked away by the executive's firm grasp, his protests join Marilyn's, though both go utterly unanswered as Mikasa jumps onto a golf cart waiting outside the doors.

It's hard not to feel like Cinderella climbing onto that pumpkin carriage, ready for the ball.

Mikasa's heart races. She tries guessing what possibly awaits her at the end of this ride. Some secret meeting? An agent, excited to tell her that they've been monitoring her auditions and love what they see? All options feel like a pipe dream.

They arrive at an outdoor filming set, and Mikasa wonders over the absolute chaos going on, the cameramen adjusting their equipment, the mousy-haired director shouting commands through his microphone, guiding the team. She recognizes from the lovey-dovey set design that this must be for Before Affection Retires.

"Hey," the executive barks, snapping his fingers, breaking her free from her daze. "Go over to that trailer. Get in costume and then get back here."

Costume? Mikasa is dazed. She can't produce any discernible response, tumbling out of the cart, speedwalking toward the right trailer. She's never done something requiring a costume, only her plain-old, regular street clothes, blending in easily in the background. This is all new.

Before she knows it, Mikasa is donned in a pretty dress that stops just below her knees, its color somewhere between plum and maroon, the shoulders flowy and graceful. The makeup process was even more foreign — Mikasa's daily makeup routine is simplistic to the core, but the stylist here wanted her eyelashes to pop, seductive and primed for romance. A curling iron turns her hair into bouncy, bombshell waves.

She feels so unlike herself, but adrenaline sends her speeding back for the scene of the action, toward the director still barking out commands.

"You!" He cries, pointing. "Get over here! We're starting a shoot in five minutes. Get a script."

Mikasa wonders if every movie set is this hostile, or if everyone here is just having a bad day. One page from the script gets pressed against her chest, along with one order. "Memorize this."

But before she can begin, a frazzled assistant debriefs her on the whole debacle, leading her to the side and gesturing around wildly.

"You know what you're doing? Can you act?"

Mikasa blinks. "Uh, yeah? I can, yeah."

It's clear that answer doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in the assistant, but regardless, there's apparently no time to waste on nonsense.

"Diana Baldwin is a no show. There's no time in the schedule to skip her scenes today. You'll be filling in for her for the kiss scene. Got all that?"

Diana Baldwin? That's who I'm filling in for?

There's no time to be starstruck. "Got it. Yup."

"Alright, good. You'll say the lines, and they'll do the ADR in post production. You're just a stand-in. That's it. Don't expect overnight fame, yeah?"

Mikasa nods fervently, still so confused. "No fame. That's— I'm no— Why am I here?"

The question comes out without thinking, but that thought hasn't left her mind since the coffee shop, never able to ask in the swirl of chaos.

"You look like her from the back. Same height, same build. The editors can work their magic."

She'll be little more than a green screen, but the thrill of being on a big movie set, stepping in for an actress she's long admired, is worth it.

"Where do I go? Do I— How much time?"

"Three minutes. Get studying."

Mikasa sends herself into a corner to study, scanning the swoonworthy dialogue for the upcoming scene. A big scene. Important, crucial as the romantic climax for a major Hollywood production, and it depends on her.

The words sink in slowly, as best as they can. The last thing Mikasa wants is to earn a director's ire by flubbing the script to a laughable degree. She prepares herself to be flirty, desirable.

"You! Get ready to shoot."

Mikasa scoots into the filming area, finding the mark on the grass guiding her position. As she assumes the position provided by the script, glancing absentmindedly toward the side, she catches glimpses of camera operators approaching, microphones getting closer.

"Action!"

As directed, Mikasa tilts her eyes upward — finally catching a view at her co-star. Damn near jeopardizing the sanctity of the shoot, she struggles hard to keep her jaw from dropping.

Eren Jaeger. A total heartthrob. Mikasa's harbored a subtle (not really) crush on him for the last few years, just when he began his ascent into Hollywood relevancy. She's seen most of his movies, praising multiple as her favorites. God, Mikasa knows she'll even watch the less-than-savory options, the ones without glowing reviews — independent films with tiny budgets and screenwriters that need fine tuning. She has his films ranked by her favorites, but even that is a difficult list to maintain. Though his social media presence isn't huge, Mikasa keeps up with him.

And now she gets to kiss him.

He wears an outfit so casually suave, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first couple buttons undone for an alluring effect. His shoulder-length hair is something you'd seen on a 1990s teen pop culture magazine, harkening to the age of 'effortless' hairstyles, so swooshy. Mikasa chooses Eren over a young Leonardo DiCaprio any day of the week without hesitation.

The lines nearly slip from Mikasa's memory. She's supposed to be flirty with Eren Jaeger; now, her tasks feels all the more insurmountable to live up to, the standards raised to their highest level.

As Eren approaches, he grins. Mikasa has to remind herself that it's the character he's smiling so pretty at, not her. Some fake girl. Not her.

The tragedy of that causes her to almost miss her first line, but she pulls it together. "You came?"

"Obviously," he replies, laughing, his palms immediately cupping her cheeks. Mikasa's glad the camera isn't focused on her face — which has turned a humiliating shade of red. "You didn't think I'd really leave you behind, did you?"

Mikasa swallows. What was the line? She exhales, as propositioned, smiling, mustering up as much desperation in her tone as she can. "I don't know." This young actress has never been this nervous. "You seemed like you were in a pretty big hurry."

Here comes the most swoonworthy dialogue, the part that'll send Mikasa into cardiac arrest. Eren, or whatever his character's name is, draws her closer, their noses rubbing together. The cameras are almost intrusive now — just like they've always been in her screen tests, her daunting auditions, the technology recording her failure.

At Eren's advancing touches, Mikasa recalls another direction from the script — touch him. She nervously rests her shaky fingers on his waist, clutching his shirt. Eren Jaeger's shirt. His smell is intoxicating this close, subtle but unbelievably attractive. Potent. He continues.

"No. Never. C'mon, El. Can't leave you. You know I can't leave you. Don't give a damn about all that."

Without context, Mikasa has no idea what all that even means, but it's irrelevant. Eren has his hands grasping her face, ready to confess his deepest feelings. She swallows hard, clearing her throat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You'll wanna leave again. I can't keep you here."

Her delivery has a shakier quality to it than a professional actress might have, but Mikasa's just proud of herself for not melting to a puddle.

Eren, formidable in his role, just as strong as he looks on the silver screen, pushes her back until they've stumbled into the stone railing behind them — a totally improved move that catches Mikasa off guard, her breath hitching.

Before she can process anything, his lips are latched onto hers, hungrily, his character so desperate to prove his affections to this El girl. He tastes just as good as he has in Mikasa's most shameful dreams, the ones where she gets to do exactly what she's doing now, standing tall as Eren's co-star, the recipient of all his perfectly-acted kisses across an excessive number of takes.

Happy to indulge in this fantasy, Mikasa loses herself in the scene, determined to live up to the expectations placed onto her. She clutches onto Eren, brave enough to engage her mouth, providing her own energy to the kiss. Good God. I'm kidding Eren Jaeger. This is all real.

"Not going anywhere," Eren mewls, too convincing in his 'acting', slipping into this character with so little effort. His hands find Mikasa's thighs, squeezing as she's hoisted into his strong arms, legs with no destination but to wrap around his waist. "I need you. I need you."

Mikasa can't contain herself. Her poor heart is close to giving out, and her stomach flips and clenches and every tumultuous sensation between. She forgets this is a movie, on a set, surrounded by strangers watching them kiss.

One more line. "Stay here. Stay with me, please."

"I will, you goddamn, gorgeous idiot. I'm here."

They kiss longer — so much longer — until the immersion is decimated by the director calling cut, leaving Mikasa in the unfortunate reality where Eren swiftly drops her down to her feet. Through the megaphone, the director praises them — before asserting that they would return for a second, precautionary take.

"Hey," Eren starts, his regular, out-of-character tone somehow so different from his voice during shooting. He's more relaxed. Mikasa's used to this voice from all the interviews she's seen.

"Hi." She keeps her eyes averted, too flustered to even dare looking at him after that. He's famous. She's a nobody, wannabe actress that's stuck working a part-time throwaway job. Still, her awkward smile seems to endear her to him.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for surprising you like that. Felt like it might help the scene." He sounds pleased with himself for concocting the idea. "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

As if he couldn't get anymore perfect. He's a massive sweetheart, too, not some prima donna.

"No— not at all. It was— it was clever."

"You think so? I worried it might be too much."

She's unsure how to reassure him of the move's success without exposing her gigantic crush.

"I think the women watching will be happy."

Eren laughs and it's sublimely charming. "Well, then I'm happy with it. You're all hard to please."

Behind her back, Mikasa fidgets with her fingers, cracking her knuckles like crazy — anything to relieve the what-is-happening-right-now energy coursing through her bloodstream and incapable of exiting any of her brain's fixated thinking.

"Ah, well— I doubt you could disappoint them."

Instantly, she wants to slam her palm so hard into her forehead that it sends her flying. He doesn't need another weirdo fangirl. I've seen the comments on his Instagram. There's enough of those already. If he's annoyed, Eren conceals that frustration with ease, accepting the vote of confidence with a gracious simper.

"Thanks." He exhales deeply, finding his place beside her against the railing. "Are you an actress? How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"

Calling herself an actress in Eren's presence seems rather reductive of his talent. Mikasa shrugs, biting the inside of her cheeks. "Sorta? Not really. I'm— I'm trying to be, at least."

Eren smiles. "Have I seen anything you've done?"

He's much easier to talk to than someone like Marilyn Lawrence. He's more— more human.

"If you watched Avalon Harbor, you might've caught me in the background for a second. I think it was at 36:20, if you feel like double checking."

Pathetic as it sounds, her jokes makes Eren snort, and Mikasa considers that a win. "You know what, I'll have to give it a rewatch sometime."

A different production assistant brings them bottles of water while they wait to reconvene. There's a painful silence between them — a silence that Mikasa wishes to fill with a million questions about his acting, his roles, his journey from child clothes model to big screen cash cow.

Somehow, though, he's equally interested in her.

"So, Ms. Avalon Harbor, you didn't really answer my question. Where'd they find you?"

Mikasa sighs. Now he'll really know I'm a loser.

"The coffee shop down the street. I work there."

He laughs again. "I— I didn't expect that one."

Just as she's about to attempt another joke, anything to hear his pretty laugh again, the director cuts their conversation short, summoning the cast and crew back into position.

"It was nice to chat with you— Wait, what's your name? Just realized I have no idea."

She swallows, lump building in her throat. You're about to be on a first name basis. "Mikasa."

"Eren," he replies, a formality more than anything. "Maybe we'll get to work together again one day."

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. "I'm happy to just be in the audience, really."

He smiles as he backpedals back to his starting position, and that smile lingers on Mikasa's brain all the way until the director calls action.

Returning to her barista job after the previous day's events is harder than she anticipates. Getting a taste of a real actresses' life didn't quench that dream — it only thickened her thirst to be on more movie sets, to experience the thrill of producing something from nothing, to turn a script into a visual manifestation for audiences.

Kissing Eren Jaeger played a big part, obviously.

It's hard to keep her mind off their scenes while cleaning the counter during a lull in customers. Her eyes fixate onto the speckles hidden into the quartz countertop, utterly lost in a daydream, replaying the kiss in her head just like she's rewatched some of Eren's movies on repeat.

A gentle voice cuts through her folly.

"What do you recommend? I can't decide."

Startled, Mikasa gets ready to issue so many apologies for being so ditzy, so inattentive. The last thing she needs is a customer complaint.

When she catches the man's eyes, she's even more startled to see Eren standing there.

"Oh! It's you, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"No need to apologize. Did I scare you?"

Behind Eren, some customers look up from their coffees to gawk at him — the penalty that comes with achieving some stardom (and the unfortunate consequences of being blessed with unnaturally beautiful cheekbones).

Mikasa laughs, flustered. Her cheeks give away just how unprepared she is for this encounter.

"A little, yeah. Thought I was gonna get an earful."

"Nope. Just wanted to stop by and see you."

See me? It's too good to be true.

"Uh, you did?" Mikasa chides herself. This flirting isn't very good, considering that their tongues were practically wrapped together just yesterday.

Eren leans across the counter, gushing his voice to avoid any pesky eavesdropping.

"Sure did. You're a fun co-star. That's rare these days. Plus, you're a pretty good kisser, too."

Instantly, Mikasa's hand covers her face, the redness flushed across her features too much to bear — Eren Jaeger likes my kissing. Me.

Undisturbed by her inability to accept his compliments with any decorum, Eren continues, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

"Do you have a break coming up? I'm done for the day. Thought we could go for a walk. If you want."

It's starting to dawn on her how quickly her life has been rocketed off its predicted trajectory because of a resemblance to another actress.

Is he actually asking me out? She hasn't felt this giddy in— well, since his last movie came out.

"I'm off in ten minutes, actually. I'd— I'd love to."

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll take you on a tour."

A lackluster shift becomes the second-best she's ever worked, just trailing behind yesterday's. She smiles so brightly, hard enough to hurt her cheeks, straining the muscles that she usually saves for pretending to tolerate customers.

"Do you still want that recommendation? I can make something for you while you wait."

He grins, amused. "Oh no, I don't like coffee. Just needed something cute to get your attention."

Unwilling to let her get the last laugh, Eren sticks a bill into the tip jar and slinks off to one of the tables, smiling at her from hidden his hand.

Mikasa blushes.

He might be a good actor, but he's just as terrible at hiding a crush as I am.

— (Hope you enjoyed reading! It would be so fun to imagine how they'll spend their walk and how their little courtship would develop into a relationship 🩷 eremika wholesome moment was very fun to write after so much angst!)

#darlingkirstein asks #eremika #my writing #actor au

[penguin--rat]

my favourite game, mountains are for losers

this is a celeste x pafl au! :) im going to explain each character here

sanya replaces madeline. she wants to climb the mountain to prove.. something to sergei. maybe that she can do things on her own, maybe that she doesn't need him, maybe that she's cool and awesome and maybe that she's enough on her own. yea, she's a bit scared (though she'd never admit that to him), but she can't let that stop her. not when she's already ran away from home all the way here. like madeline, sanya can dash (unless i figure out a different ability to give her, though i propably won't). the mountain gave her this ability (i'll expand on this more later).

badya replaces badeline. she's much more aggressive than badeline, shouting at sanya the moment they first meet ('what do you think youre doing?! youll die out here!'). she shows worry for sanya. resembles sergei a bit, though unlike him, doesn't think twice about stopping sanya from climbing the mountain with her own two hands. unlike badeline, she doesn't want to climb the mountain not because sanya isn't a mountain climber, there's no use, but rather because of the danger it poses. what if she falls and breaks something?she could literally die out here, it'd be better if she just returned to the safety of their home.

yura replaces theo. theyre both self concious about what people think of them, and they're both friends with the protag - though yura and sanya havent met before the main events of this au, though. instead of having an instapix account, yura is liveblogging his ascension of the mountain to The Gang. he doesn't know why he wants to climb the mountain, really. it's a similar reason to theo though. he was just lost in life and wanted to have control over something, anything.

katya replaces mr oshiro. like him, she is a ghost that haunts the celeste hotel, but unlike him, she was just a guest at her time of death. how she died, you ask? well, to that i ask, why are are you asking so many questions? teehee, i jest... i think, maybe an avalanche happened and many of the guests staying at the hotel died. katya wasn't the only one to turn into a ghost. she is, however, the only one that hasn't moved on and still lingers. she doesn't want the hotel to feel lonely. and, she likes talking to the travellers:) no, she doesn't like being alone all the time... but helping out the ocassional mountain climber every five years is worth it. yea. don't worry, that's it, there's nothing more to it. nothing suspicious about this. katya isn't that developed yet in this au, so some of this info might change.

temnova replaces granny. she studies the traits of the mountain, intrigued by its whole deal. she's lived on this mountain for... well, maybe too long. dmitry a dog replaces the bird. 'how does it get around as easy as the bird? it doesnt have wings! itd have a much harder time following sanya around the mountain' i hear you, and to that i say, didnt i tell you to stop asking so many questions...

the zone merges with the mountain. sorta. gives sanya her dash, as a Bonus and Encouragement. gives temnova. uh . um . you know what don't worry about it

please feel free to ask me any questions about this au:3!! my askbox is open 👍

#parties are for losers #pafl #fanart #pafl au #celeste #celeste game #mountains are for losers au

[tokio-motel]

Hello! Could you do (male) reader with Bill where they go shopping together? Idk if you've done this before but just them trying on clothes and complimenting each other, going to the women's section and bill debating on bying stuff or not but still being convinced by the reader because he's like "you look GORGEOUS with those feathers on you baby" and stuff like that? Basically fluff because I love your writing so much! Thank you ! <3

BILL X MALE READER: SHOPPING

teehee hii babe

"Ooohh! What about this one?"

Bill asked excitedly, holding up a light blue shirt with a skull pattern to his chest, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you expectantly. "Wha'dya think?" You could only smile and shake your head, shrugging your shoulders. "I think it's nice! If you like it, buy it." You respond, leaning against the pillar behind you. He looked down at the shirt, running his fingers over the seams before muttering a soft "m'kay.." and tossed it in the shopping bag.

You couldn't help but be slightly surprised, you were used to Bill picking out more gothic-styled clothing or just deeper colors. So seeing him pick that out definitely stood out. It didn't matter that much to you though, seeing how his face lit u when he came across the shirt. How his nervous smile just made him seem even cuter.

You walked beside him, finger intertwined as you watched him pick out some other things. You couldn’t stop the grin stretch across your face as you saw how he giggled to himself whenever he saw something he liked. Granted, most of the stuff was black or a darker shade and it all looked the same at the bottom of the bag, but as long as he was happy you truly didn't care.

You walked over to a new rack, and a pair of pants stood out to you. You hummed, strolling over and looking for your size. You smiled softly when you did find it, holding it infront of you and looking to your side where Bill stood. "Do you think it looks nice?" You question, turning it around and looking at the pattern on the back pockets. Bill grinned, looking over at you. "I think it's perfect!" You picked up the tag in your hands, going to look at the price before Bill swatted your hand away softly.

"Don't worry about that. I'll pay." Your jaw nearly dropped as you raised an eyebrow, looking at him with uncertainty. "Bill...do you know how expensive shit in this store is?" You mumbled, too lazy to stop him from throwing the jeans into another bag that had all your things you picked out inside, nearly filled to the top. "I'm sure I'll be fine." You sighed, chuckling a bit to yourself as you spoke a soft "Fine."

Bill glanced around the store for a second, and you watched his he hesitantly took a double take on a certain area. You glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow, looking in the direction he was glancing at. "Bill," You began, rubbing his hand soothingly, "Is there something else you want?" He glanced at you then back at the area before walking uncertainly towards his destination. You looked up at the sign above you, reading "Women"

You shrugged, strolling behind Bill as he looked around, back at you. He expected you to laugh at him or pull him back to the men's section, but you just stood their with a soft smile on your face and gave an encouraging nod. He hummed quietly, turning around as he picked out a shirt with shaking hands. His back was towards you so you couldn't see what it was, yet you could see the faint sparkle of..sequins? Or was it glitter?

"Lemme see." you mumbled. He hesitantly clinked his boot on the ground a few times before turning around, holding the shirt to his chest uncertainly. He had a nervous grin on his face that made your heart gush, his gorgeous smile slightly fading as he noticed you were being silent, not saying anything.

No, the shirt wasn't bad at all. Very far from it, actually. I mean, you certainly wouldn't wear it, but seeing it on bill was..definitely something. It has small sequins covering it, shining metallic green and black under the bright lights.

"Is it bad..? Was this a mistake..oh my god I-" he began, shaking his head as he turned to put the shirt back but you grabbed his arm, taking the shirt into your own hands. "It's amazing.." you mumble, pressing it against his chest.

He looked so damn pretty, the colors complimented him perfectly. You truthfully couldn't take your eyes off him. He bit his lip under your gaze, shuffling from foot to foot. "You look so perfect." You remark, smiling at him as you cocked your head to the side slightly. "Do you like it, Bill?"

He hesitantly looked at you and back down at the shirt, listening to the sequins crinkle against each other. Finally, he gave a soft grin and nodded at you. "I..I really like it." he confirmed, holding back a happy squeal as you put it in his bag. You chuckled to yourself, patting him on the shoulder as you looked over at the cash register.

"Is that all you want, babe?" You asked, going through your own bag to see if you had everything. He nodded, not taking his eyes off of the shirt. As you walked up to pay for the items, you reached into your pocket for your wallet, but Bill swatted your hand away again for the second time.

"I'm paying." he reminded you, taking out his own wallet. You could only sigh, knowing your protests wouldn't be heard. You'd pay him back somehow..you knew you would.

#i was too lazy to type m/n so #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x male reader #tokio hotel x you #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x non binary reader #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #this is sickeningly sweet