#should i tag this as x reader

[leighsartworks216]

"I really love how slow this slow burn is!"

My aroace ass with no idea how to write a developing relationship, only relationships that already exist at the start of a story:

#fanfic #fanfiction #aromantic #asexual #aromantic asexual #aroace #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #i really should make a tag for i come with knives

[specialgrades]

— thinking about . . .

men who swear up and down they’re not into you— or men for that matter. men who flirt with women as often as they can. men who drink a little too much during a night out and start grinding against you in the dimly lit club you’re in. men who’s legs feel like jelly and skin feels hot as you guide their hips against yours. men who turn to putty as you drag them outside. men who forget every bit of elegance when they’re pinned against the wall. men who weakly beg for you to fuck them right there in the decrepit alleyway. men who wake up the next morning barely being able to walk and can’t look you in the eye now. men who sport dark hickeys and bite marks from you as they attempt to flirt with another girl to distract from how good you made them feel the night prior.

VINSMOKE SANJI, spirit albarn, ryusei shido, satoru gojo, michael kaiser, josuke higashikata, warren worthington iii

#🧋 ; thirsts. #male reader smut #wrote this purely for sanji. but it fits them as well #idc that shido gives hard dom vibes to the straight girlies!!! that man bottoms and he cries so prettily #dom male reader #top male reader #kinda shit but y’all get it right. we’re on a wavelength right #sanji x male reader #spirit albarn x male reader #ryusei shido x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #michael kaiser x male reader #josuke higashikata x male reader #warren worthington iii x male reader #realized i should tag them. because i love attention

[lauraneedstochill]

Can't help falling in love

summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert

words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)

1.

Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.

His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.

It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.

And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.

Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you're standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.

"It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?" a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.

There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:

“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.

“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.

That’s until you both hear a loud cry:

“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.

She sprints decisively in your direction:

“It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”

And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.

”Y/N didn’t interrupt a thing,“ he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.

The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.

Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.

”Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,“ he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:

”Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.“

He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.

Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn't feel lonely anymore.

2.

It's been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn't left the bed once. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn't an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn't bare the thought of stepping out of the room.

His mother wouldn't leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn't help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.

That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He's only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.

He's startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human's silhouette — and then another few to realize that it's you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.

You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.

“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.

"They told me no one was allowed into your chambers," your hushed whisper burns his ear. "The silliest thing I've ever heard!" you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. "I knew I had to find a way to come see you."

You examine his face, frowning at the scar that's still healing.

"Does it hurt?"

He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won't be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.

Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit. 

"I will take his eye," you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might've heard it wrong.

"...Whose eye?"

"Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours," you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.

Aemond shakes his head:

"You shouldn't," his voice quiet but firm. "The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed."

"Well, maybe he is too old to think straight," you retort. "You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail," you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.

And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.

And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:

"Are you sure I can't take his eye?"

At that moment, he can't stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it. 

Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can't lose you.

He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke's eye isn't worth the trouble.

3.

By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince. 

His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.

You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.

Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid's persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.

And then he opens it — and it's you standing in front of him. 

Aemond barely has time to register what's going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can't see it, he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly".

"I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval," he sneers and you stick out your tongue.

"While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers," you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.

"I am friendly enough!"

“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.

Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you're clasping in your hands.

“You come bearing gifts?”

“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing".

It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you're talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand:

“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”

There's a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure:

“Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”

He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.

“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.

“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”

“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,'” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.

“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.

Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn't sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.

You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:

“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.

"The gem compliments your eye very well," you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.

"We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is."

"This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks," you chide him lightly. "And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?"

At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you're too concentrated on something, and Aemond can't help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface. 

He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glaring at him with something akin to fondness.

He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.

He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.

4.

Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn't seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone's counting). It's not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn't leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.

Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to the King's Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon's birthday, but Aemond didn't care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond's sympathy for you.

“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.

“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.

“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider Y/N part of the family.”

Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.

The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.

His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.

It’s not a drastic change, it's all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.

“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.

“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.

As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.

The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days. Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say:

“It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”

He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you. Aemond hesitates:

“I thought you quite liked it.”

“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.

Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:

“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add: “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”

And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.

A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?

So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.

Maybe he should have.

5.

By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.

Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can't hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can't think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.

So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.

“My dear, I think you must talk to Y/N,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.

Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:

“You don't seem surprised.”

“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe Y/N is the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.

Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them.

“You should tell her the truth.”

Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.

Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:

“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.

Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him:

“Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.”

The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.

You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.

“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.

“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”

Yet that���s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...

“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.

Aemond gives you some time before asking again:

“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.

“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.

Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.

“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”

“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.

“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”

“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.

“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.

“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:

“Me”.

You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute. 

“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.

“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.

In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You're looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.

“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face. Taken aback, you inquire:

“You pity me?”

He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.

 “You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can't get his head around what just happened.

“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.

Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.

“Y/N, I only meant to say that I —”

And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.

“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.

... 1.

He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.

Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.

And so he does.

“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,“ he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.

"Yes, I remember it pretty well," you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.

"The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack," there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. "Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you."

He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.

"Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories."

You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying. 

"Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her," the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.

"Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in," he can’t take his eye off you.

Your face expression melts into a stunned one.

"I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness," he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.

"When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine," you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.

"I think you actually enjoyed it", you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.

"I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you."

You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.

"The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar," he pauses, catching his breath. "You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you". 

You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.

“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.

“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:

“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.

You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm's length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you're in, you look so beautiful, it's mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence:

"Aemond, please don't give me false hope," your heartbeat is too loud, you don't hear your own voice. He does.

"I do not wish to marry you out of pity," Aemond takes the last step. "I want you to be my wife because I'm in love with you," he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. "I've been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually," his voice gets low. "For what feels like an eternity," Aemond murmurs.

"Why haven't you told me?" you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.

"I was afraid you didn't feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?" his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.

"Tell me that I am wrong," he whispers, begging.

You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.

Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.

You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.

Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.

"Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices," you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.

“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.

“When we were thirteen, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”

The air around you tense, and you are enchanted by each other.

“Did that help to prove you wrong?”

“I may need some convincing,” his breath fanning over your lips.

“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth.

His favorite memory will be this.

And every other moment with you that's to come.

author's note: I'm sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I'm a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don't want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, I hope this was bearable, thank you for reading!

💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 💞 my masterlist 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley's song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there's also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. P.S. I'm also on AO3 (lol, who isn't), in case you prefer to read fics there.

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

#aemond targaryen #got the idea out of the blue (oh the things I do instead of sleeping...) #wrote it in two days #pretty sure it's once in a year kind of miracle #my expectations are low though and I will probably never write anything like this again lmao #anyways I think I should get back to actually adding the tags and shut tf up #here’s a SPECIAL tag that I call 'the woman Aemond is in love with stands up for him' #I already used this trope twice and WILL use it again watch me #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[verahella]

set in jjk preschool!au

“sensei!”

you raise a brow as a sullen looking megumi is dragged to your desk by yuji, “yes?”

“something is wrong with guro!” yuji says frantically, shaking the other boy like a ragdoll.

you take a look at megumi. he seems normal enough, albeit a bit sadder than usual. your heart pangs as his lips turn into a soft pout. “what’s wrong, megumi?“

“he’s burping like a frog and he won’t stop!”

as if on cue, megumi lets out a sound that shakes his whole body. yuji shakes him again, more aggressively this time as he turns to you with desperate eyes. “is he going to die?”

“not if he gets a infection~” you turn to see nobara wearing a doctor’s coat and grinning as she holds up a toy syringe. “come on, little kitties.”

yuji screeches and runs to hide behind your desk. “she’s evil!”

you suppress a laugh, plucking the syringe from nobara’s menacing hands, “nobody is evil and nobody needs an injection. fushiguro just has hiccups.”

“hiccups?” you try to ignore how nobara looks disappointed at the fact that she can’t maim anybody now.

“b-but guro is too young to die!” yuji sobs, clutching onto megumi while he hiccups again.

you pat the fluff of pink hair, crouching down to his level, “he’s not going to die, yuji. hiccups are usually harmless and pass after a few minutes.”

you turn to megumi’s upset face, “and once fushiguro gets better, he’ll get a reward lollipop for being such a strong boy.”

megumi’s tone is hesitant when brown eyes meet yours, “can i please get two lollipops?”

“two?” your eyes flash with surprise, “it might be a tad too much sugar for you, megumi.”

“‘s not for me.” his hands fist in his shirt and he tucks his chin down as only a murmur escapes, “yuji deserves one too.”

you try not to let your heart spill out. a pleased smile blooms on your face and you nod, clapping your hands, “in that case, two it is!”

“and me, me too, right? i want one too!” nobara squeals.

“right, thre—”

“can’t forget about your favourite person.” gojo saunters onto the scene, jacket thrown over his shoulder lazily. “i want the sweetest treat in the whole world.” he winks, “your lip—”

“it’s my lollipop, buffoon!” nobara screams, launching at him with her syringe.

“i just got my hair done, caref—ouch! [nameeee]!”

you sigh.

three lollipops and one bandaid, it is.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #idk if i should tag this gojo x reader bc there’s barely any gojo here #this is me dipping my toes into preschool au #ooc nobara ig? #vera’s.jjk.library.✎

[moominsuki]

OMG also when you guys get throw into the future, you’re still wearing your hero costumes or outfits that are 10 years out of date - the mask bakugou wears is completely different now and his grenades are no longer that shade of green - and no one manufactures the shoes that you’re wearing and onlookers walking by CONSTANTLY compliment bakugou and you on your costumes.

“you must be a real fan! dynamight hasn’t worn that shade of green since his debut on the charts!”

“what did you do to get your hair so spiky and blond?! it looks exactly like dynamight’s and i’ve been cosplaying for years!”

bakugou’s eye twitches.

“hah? cosplay?! this shit is straight from my scalp-”

“lots and lots of hair gel, thank youuu!!” you practically yell, pushing bakugou away from saying anything too incriminating.

#he would be mad asf like this is MY HAIR #and wdym he - I changed the colour of our costume??? #and you’re upset because no way do they not make those anymore #tragic #i should make a tag for this #{ back to the future! bkg x you } #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader

[touyyes]

santa!toji who appears in your house, horny and desperate to find his ms. claus. just imagine you coming downstairs and you see him eating the cookies and milk, making him look up at you. knowing that he shouldn't fuck a mom while children are asleep, he ends up fucking you until he fills you up to the brim. the next morning, you don't have any recollection of the previous night's events — maybe you thought it was a dream, until you saw a note. santa!toji said that you're his ms. claus and will continue to come to your home and dick you down.

my brainrot for toji is so real 😩

didn't get to answer it before, but since its Christmas, im answering it now hehe

Santa! Toji who only visits the neighborhood milfs moms because even though tonight is his job to give presents to children, Santa needs a little gift of his own too. It's not easy working overtime!

Santa! Toji who stumbles upon you on his third home visit, seeing you clamber down the stairs from the sudden noise in your silk pajamas, catching him eating the cookies and milk you left for him

Santa! Toji who quickly gulps down half the milk at the sight of your arrival, imagining himself using the rest to pour down your tits that are currently peaking through your disheveled top

Santa! Toji who looks you up and down, taking in your form. 'No ring, huh?' He thinks. Even if you had one, he could care less but this just makes things a lot less of a hassle

Santa! Toji who beckons you over to him and you walk forward, in a trance, in a daze from your shock that Santa is a stupidly hot man that isn't like any of the beer bellied, crumb storing in his beard men that's advertised everywhere during the season

Santa! Toji who tells you to kneel down in front of him and you do, of course. Pushing his red slacks down to rest right underneath his balls as you lick his cock like a candy cane. And with how you think you're currently going insane 'I'm sucking Santa's dick oh my god', you think it does taste like a candy cane.

Santa! Toji who pulls you back up by the shoulders and leads you towards the couch, pushing the front of your hips to rest against the armrest, pulling your silk pajama pants down till they hang off your ankles. Calling you a slut for not wearing any panties, and how you must've prepared for his arrival

Santa! Toji who wastes no time coming face to face with your pussy and spreading your lips and folds open as he goes to town on your sweet taste

Santa! Toji who sucks and bites every surface of your ass cheeks, licks and swirls his tongue on every crevice of your pussy and ass. Savoring the flavor of you

Santa! Toji who thinks you're being such an obedient mommy for keeping your moans to a minimum to not wake your kids, finally granting you peace by the lining his cock up with your clenching hole and pushing in slowly. Complaining about how tight its grasp against his cock is but it won't be for long once he's done with you

Santa! Toji who puts you in 3 different positions on the couch, making you come for the 4th time tonight, and finally finishing off in your tight, wet throat with your head hanging upside down off the edge of the couch

Santa! Toji who quietly tucks you back in your bed after you passed out from exhaustion, taking care to put your pants back on and leaving a note for when you wake up: "Thank's for the cookies and milk, sweet thing."

#𝒊𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝑬𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 =͟͟͞͞♡ #⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ — 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 #this was very halfassed 😭😭 #should i even tag this as toji x reader?? idk #i will ig #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #jjk smut

[nonranghaes]

"it's just me."

you barely get a chance to roll onto your back before soonyoung's already climbing onto the bed and somewhat on top of you and your blankets, and it's only seconds later that he crashes. it's far from the first time this has happened (soonyoung is clingy and cuddly, especially when he's sleepy), but he manages to knock the wind out of you nonetheless. he rests his head on your chest, and you wiggle an arm out to curl around him as best as you can in your semi-trapped position.

"soonyoung--"

"just go back to sleep," he murmurs. "everything's fine."

you stroke his hair, thumb dipping down to graze his cheek at one point. "soonie--"

"i mean it," he says, eyes peering up in the low light to see yours. "i'm fine. just need to nap." his hand finds yours, and he wraps your arm around him as he snuggles in. he plants a kiss against your chest before resting his head against it again, eyes fluttering shut. "you can rest a little longer, too."

you settle back down after a moment, arms wrapped around soonyoung as you shut your eyes again. sometimes you swear this tiger is a teddy bear, but regardless of which he is, he's yours.

#nonranghaes.thoughts #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung fluff #nonranghaes.svt #hi sorry i just. needed to write something short n soft #tw for medical stuff in the tags but i need to call hospice abt a catheter bc shes... getting weaker ultimately #which. i dont know if i should be Worried or if this is normal for someone in her condition yknow? #we've started tracking how much she eats bc shes never rly ate much like. Ever. and its hard to know when shes fully pulling back from food #most of the time though its just... quiet. she just sleeps a lot. i dont know what to make of it... #anyway sorry for the small vent here im just... getting through it all ig #i need a soonyoung to cuddle with and to help me feel like i can make it through this

[harmonysanreads]

aventurine is the type to flirt and tease around a lot for fun but, if you ever get so annoyed with him that you can't take it anymore and punch him—that's when he falls in love.

#he's so far from official release but i'm already this delusional #actually no he screams masochist at my face so i'll stick to it #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #should i just create a tag for him

[skitterplant]

Overshadowed au doodles again

And a kiddie gang! Joel hates it there btw

#daycare attendant x y/n #daycare attendant x reader #moon x reader #moon x y/n #overshadowed #overshadowed art #my art #my fics #should I tag sun in here to orrrrrr #hmmmm #dca fandom #fnaf #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #overshadowed y/n

[fatuismooches]

At the beginning of your relationship with Dottore, there had been numerous times when he had tried to leave you, or rather, attempt to force you to leave him in the Akademiya. Ignoring you, snapping at you... most notably literally kicking you out of the dorm (to waking up and nearly stepping on you, as you had decided to knock out right at the door.) Merely because he still had difficulty believing he was loved by you, despite having known you for years. It took much time but, eventually, your feelings finally clicked in that genius head of his.

However, uncharacteristically enough, there was one time you debated on whether you should leave Zandik. Only one time. And he had found out. If only you had been more careful.

It happened during the later stage of your illness when your ability to do many basic tasks had been stripped from you, leaving you reliant on Zandik for many things. You felt very guilty, for making him so do much work for both himself and you, but there wasn't much you could do about it, being the way you were now. Did you tell your lover about this? No, of course not.

But today, today would just be another regular day of what you had accepted to be your new life. However, you had noticed in the morning he seemed rather irritated, but you had no chance to ask him about it since he had to leave for class. You wondered what that was all about. (You, somewhere in the depths of your mind thought. You were continuously being a burden on the knowledge-driven scholar, no wonder he'd be irritated.)

When he returned to the dorm, you could tell that the foul mood still remained. Though, you could not understand what had caused it. He was perfectly fine last night, something must have happened after you fell asleep... As you watched him, the words "welcome home" could not seem to come out as they usually did, especially when he had not even acknowledged you yet, only emptying his bag with all of his books and other tools. You swallowed nervously, wondering how you were going to go about this when he spoke.

"Where?"

"Huh?"

"Where do you plan to go?" You were understandably confused by this seemingly random question.

"Um... nowhere?" A nervous smile made its way to your face, as Zandik only gave you a blank look, before carefully unfolding a piece of paper, and reading it over once more, no emotion on his face. Which, was already quite alarming for you, because Zandik was the kind of person who always had a hint of annoyance written on his face. He then turned the paper to face you and you squinted, reading the contents.

Oh. You instantly recognized what it was. It was a form that one had to fill out if they wanted to move out of the Akademiya's dorms.

When you said you felt guilty for everything, you meant it. Meant it to the point you worried if you were still good enough for him, if you had become annoying, a bumbling nuisance that had become more of a chore rather than a partner. It worried you, and you couldn't help but think about it. What if you were right? What if he did feel all of those things? Then maybe, maybe you should relieve him of this burden. You. Then, he could continue to pursue his goals, without the added hindrance of taking care of you.

It wasn't something you were set on yet, more like something you mulled over in your head. But you had filled out the potential moving out form tentatively just in case you decided to go through with it. Ah, you probably had shoved it in your bag along with your many missing assignments, and Zandik must have found it after trying to check your homework... But now, your lover was staring holes into you, expecting an answer.

"Well, I- I didn't mean it. It was... just in case," you were just spewing words at this point because you really had no defense. After all, how do you explain to your roommate of many years that you were going to move out and disappear without telling him?

"Just in case," the scholar repeats. "Just in case..." And then Zandik laughs. At what? You're not sure, because you've only seen him laugh at other people's foolishness, or in scorn and bitterness. It's a bit unsettling, seeing him act this way, but you have no time to think about it before the paper is torn right in half twice and then abandoned in the trash bin.

"No." Well... alright then.

"Za-"

"No, no no no. How utterly absurd. Ridiculous. You are not going anywhere." The way he says it simultaneously sounds like an order to you yet also an attempt to reassure himself of your impossible departure. You wondered if he interpreted your reason for leaving as something more... drastic.

"Hey-" You stand up, hoping an embrace would calm his nerves, but he begins to pace around. Now, this wouldn't be unusual, he tends to do this while he's ranting or deeply thinking about his research but obviously, it's different this time.

"Leave? No," Zandik scoffs to himself, "the possibility is nigh on impossible. There is no need to plan for such lengths, I shall make sure it doesn't come to that." When he finished mumbling to himself, you tried to interject before his gaze snapped back to you.

"And you. You, how dare you go behind my back and do such a thing? Do you think me incompetent? Do you think me a senseless fool that I would allow you to do this?"

"..."

"I find this quite tasteless, especially after how much you parroted about 'always being by my side' or 'never leaving'. Or have you finally shown your true colors? Leaving me after-" Zandik cut himself off because the words he was going to say next shouldn't be said out loud. Leaving him after he's already obsessed with you, when he's already in love with you and would go mad without your presence. But then all he could feel was your arms around him and your face buried in his chest.

"Zandik please, I'm sorry," your voice was but a whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything like that." Zandik's hands itched to hold you back, but he restrained himself, needing to hear your reasoning.

"I don't want to leave you, I really don't. I love you! So... that's why I filled that form out. Because I... am scared of burdening you too much. I know how you are. I know you want someone who is useful, w-who can be of assistance in all kinds of ways, not someone who is dead weight. So I... I don't want you to force yourself to- ow!" Your increasingly pitiful dialogue was interrupted by a flick to your forehead and the clicking of a tongue.

"Fool..." he moved his hand to rest on the top of your head. "You can be quite intelligent, but the reasons for your stupidity can be headache-inducing sometimes. Now that you've said all of that, has it clicked how idiotic it sounds?" Though your partner's words sounded harsh, his tone was noticeably softer. You could only cast your gaze downward as he sighed.

"I too wonder why you do not take your own advice. Were you not the one who said to... 'talk things out', before jumping to conclusions? So why have I not heard of this?" (The phrase feels out of place and rather disgusting on the man who normally refuses to hold a conversation on anything other than research, but he forces it out for your sake. Unfortunately, he can also hear your sing-song voice in his head as he replays the words.)

"Because... it's dumb, like you said. I shouldn't waste your time anymore..."

"I usually do not entertain dumb inquiries but... you are an exception. My assistant's questions must always be clarified." And as his lover, your troubles must always be assuaged, but that part was left unsaid, although you knew what he meant. "Yes, your usefulness was a great help, but I couldn't care less about that right now. I care about you, and if taking on extra responsibilities happens to fall under that feeling, then so be it. I don't care," Zandik said bluntly. Was it elegant? No. Was it truthful? Yes. It made your cheeks warm a bit.

"Well... thank you for the honor," you couldn't help but crack a tiny smile as Zandik only mumbled something incoherent before pushing you back to bed. Ah, you were feeling a little drained from all of that.

"Now that all that is sorted out, and that hopefully every inch of that nonsense has left you, I suggest you go to sleep quickly, unless you want to be kept awake by the sounds of my latest experiment." You only giggled at your boyfriend. He's unkind... in a kind way if that made sense. But before you could be whisked away to the land of dreams, Zandik spoke once more.

"[Name]."

"Mhm?"

"...Do not try to leave me ever again."

"...I know, Zandik."

#smooches talks #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #divider by cafekitsune #another idea i came up with at 1 am (that seems to be the time my mind wont stop working unfortunately) #u dont understand im SO delusional abt them... sorry guys... f-fragile reader #im literally so tired rn ughhh... wah i just want dottore to cuddle me!! (i need to fix my sleep schedule) #but wow this is pretty indulgent huh! #dottore x reader #idk if i should put this in the tags but im feeling bold

[takami-takami]

Keigo is not materialistic.

He values a partner being down to earth, in that sense— not hyperfocused on any status or price tags or the supposed social credit that comes courtesy of dating a pro hero.

It makes sense that he'd be perfectly content with the bare necessities, and he's happy to have a partner who shares those same values.

...Until a point.

You telling him, "I don't need anything fancy! Don't worry about it, Kei." in reference to something you clearly, unconciously want is going to make him "worry about it."

He's not being contrarian, he swears; it's just that he felt his left eye twitch a little for some reason when you assured him so sweetly that you don't really buy yourself "nice things" like that. You said it with that stupid, godforsaken genuineness etched onto your pretty face; and it clicked something in him, irreparably.

Keigo is perfectly capable of providing for you, thank you very much. He's so good at it, trust him— he can provide for you, damn it.

He nods to himself, repeating that same phrase, laptop in hand, as he rummages through his desk drawer to find his old debit card that probably has a couple hundred thousand on it or whatever at this point. Hey, don't ask him. He never checked.

Don't be surprised when Keigo waltzes through the doorway a few days later with his feathers propping up packages of all sizes. He kicks the door closed behind him as he barges in, chirping, "Hey babe? You said you liked this website, but you didn't have a wishlist, so I got 'ya everything just in case! You don't mind, do you?"

Money means nothing to him; but you sure as hell do, and Keigo will use any resources necessary to ensure it gets through your thick skull how much you deserve to be treated like royalty.

#im gonna change my pfp for this actually. or maybe its funnier to keep it like this #hes sooooooo cute #🐇 rambles #should i put this in the tags #ill put it in ! #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader

[moviestarmartini]

coming up to jude running a hand around your pregnant belly, trying to hide your smile as you go “babe, the baby is craving something weird today.” he can’t see through the act right away, instead just looking up from his phone a bit concerned. “yeah? what is it?” he’s already getting up to go to the store. without missing a beat, you respond: “a pink porsche.”

he blinks several times, he places his hand under his chin and starts brushing the hairs. you laugh as he opens his mouth and closes it again, unable to come to a conclusion. “maybe after our girl comes.” he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “what are you actually craving though?” and yet again, without missing a beat: “smashed burgers. with unlimited fries.”

#i think i should get a tag for drabbles but eh #inspired by that tiktok trend #tiktok is my biggest source of inspiration tbh #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham blurb #ALSO the fries thing is from a popular place in madrid !! #i forgot the name rn but gosh it’s so appealing rn

[murdrdocs]

namor is a cuddle fucker and you can’t convince me otherwise. 16+

EDIT: ignore the fact that i call him ‘amor’ in this, i have now realized the flaws in such a nickname. however, i am still too lazy to go back and change it so.

when the warmth of the sun is steadily disappearing and the chill of the night makes itself known, he’s holding you close to his chest.

the ocean’s waves are inching closer to the two of you, attempting to call namor home, but he ignores them for just a little longer.

they’ve yet to reach dangerous territory. yet to pull you both away from your comfort. and until then, namor won’t pull away from you.

his lips are kissing at your shoulder and his hand is rubbing at the fabric covering your hips and waist and stomach. your legs are slotted together, and his chest is against your back so that you can feel the steady thrum of his heart shielded by his rib cage. even so, you feel it as if it’s guarded by nothing.

because that’s what namor’s like with you. letting down all of his inhibitions, allowing himself to be free from his past and present. just so he could be with you. so he can let that feeling deep inside of him come to the surface.

amor.

it’s what you call him as his lips sneak up the side of your neck.

long ago, when you were both getting to know each other, the name sounded almost foreign on your tongue. you hesitated when you spoke it, even though you meant it, and the hesitation made the syllables sound uncomfortable coming from your mouth.

but now you say his name with the same comfort of prayers and wishes and hopes.

now, in this mundane and comforting moment, his name sounds warning from your mouth.

he hears it, yet he hums as if he doesn’t.

although you’d called him as if you were going to continue speaking, you don’t. at least, not right away.

you sigh, and your eyelids close, and you push your hips further back against his. then, when his lips have made their way behind your earlobe, you speak up.

“again?” you ask, referring to the many times you’d been in a position similar to this one today alone.

“if you’re able to,” he murmurs into your skin. “if you’ll have me.”

he bares his teeth and your sigh is more of a whine when the bones nip down onto your earlobe.

“will you have me?” your name ends the request, and you’re sure that the way that he says it hypnotizes you and makes you agree. but that’s just you refusing to own up and acknowledge the way namor could always rile you up.

you’re not sure if you’ll be much help this time, and he senses this.

“i’ll do the work. let me make you feel good.” and you don’t have to be told twice.

your soft “okay” is lost in the wind and carried to the sea.

namor doesn’t waste any time.

you’re both aware of the salty water creeping closer and closer to your feet with each wave, an alarm clock inching towards it’s designated time, a time where you’ll both be pulled from this dream-like state and brought back to the reality of your responsibilities.

you try not to think about that as namor pushes your flimsy dress up to rest on your hip.

there’s a moment where his hands aren’t on you, and it lasts longer than you would’ve preferred. when his hands find your skin again, you involuntarily jump and his teasing chuckle makes your neck burn.

“it’s just me, my love. i’m right here.”

the head of his dick tickles you as namor urges your thigh forward. you’re bare, and still wet from the times before, so it’s embarrassingly easy for him to slide right in.

his rocks start slow as if he wishes to treasure the limited time you both have left with each other for a few weeks. but then he speeds up almost all at once. his warm, soft palm slides under the dress and rests under your breasts. his hold is firm, yet he’s also pulling you back, holding you tight against him so you’re able to hear the groans coming from his lips.

“still feel so good, my love. holding me just right. you were made for me, weren’t you?” you’re nodding, frantically, the movement hurting a bit with the stiff ferocity of it. he laughs again, and it’s equal amounts condescending and adoring, if possible.

“i waited all those years for someone to call ‘mine’ and it was so, so worth it, baby.” you’re swearing under your breath at this point. your legs are spreading, too. your thigh is lifting and your back is arching as you try to get him even deeper. it’s not working and you’re whining frustratedly. namor shushes you gently.

“it’s okay. i’ve got you. let me take care of you.” he does, of course. his free hand grips your hip forcefully, and he uses it to pull your cunt down onto his cock with each thrust.

you shouldn’t be so close already, but you are. and you’re upset about it. because cumming means that namor has to leave you. you’re trying to hold off, biting down onto your lip and tensing your muscles. and like he does with everything else, namor notices.

“don’t hold off, sweetheart. it’s okay. this isn’t the end, you know that. i’ll be back. i always come back.” and he does. he never leaves you alone and empty and cold for too long. there’s no reason for you to hold off or worry.

you let go.

your moans are covered by the other sounds around you but it wouldn’t matter anyway. you’re secluded, and no one could hear it. no one except your lover.

he’s reaching his own high, thrusts turning sloppy and his groans powerful and assertive in your ears.

your hand reaches down to rest over top his and you turn your head to get as close of a look at him as you can. his eyes are pinched shut, his skin is glowing in the moonlight, his curls are formed and frame his face perfectly.

without much thought to it, you push your lips to his. he reciprocates your kiss easily, a mess of teeth and tongue and spit swapping with your mirrored desperation.

“where do you want it?” he asks against your lips.

“inside, mi amor. please.” there’s no reason to beg because namor’s answering your request in just a few moments.

his forehead presses to yours and his hips stutter once more and then he’s shooting warm seed into your walls. you twitch with the newly added warmth, and your eyes flutter shut contently.

namor’s lips pepper kisses along your face as you come down and it takes him a while to slip out of you. even when he does, he doesn’t separate from you. you want to tell him that he needs to go. that he should return to his kingdom.

but for now, you let your body relax, and your eyes stay shut, and you remain in the moment.

#written at 5 am #so if it doesn’t make sense #whatever #namor x reader #i think his tag should be #miamorsworld! #instead of namor #:( #namor smut #kukulkan #namor x you

[meetmymouth]

just give me a day, or two…

in which y/n and harry have been broken up for a while but the internet is still rooting for them. featuring a footballer and lots of tweets. part two

liked by masonmount and others

yn 🇮🇹 :-)

view all 10,332 comments

gemmareacts a hard launch… 🫣 congrats!

harrysatellite the “m” necklace 😫😫😫

spinningouttt not calling him dad :(

ynskitten PLEASE 🫣🫣🫣🫣

narryhearts LMAO

ynspasta she can wear an “m” necklace but the “h” tattoo on her hip is permanent 🫶🏼 we stay winning

masonmm19 get over it 😘 they’re happy

phoebebridgers you’re unreal.

taylorswft im not calling him dad

clarajohns you got a new lifeeeeee am i bothering u 😫 do u wanna talk? 🥹

harry_lambert angel!

hearteyesforyn stop 🥹🥹🥹🥹

liked by yn and others

harrystyles Satellite. Out now.

view all 783,499 comments

gemmastyles 🛰️♥️

niallsfart @yn 🥹

heezushrist @yn are u- nvm.

perrieeeeeele im crying over a robot

annetwist 🛰️❤️❤️❤️

ynsbralette give me a day or two…years????

barkingforyn girl just take him back at this point………

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles social media #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles instagram #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #and should i tag mason mount #lmao #mason mount x reader #i guess #not entirely #but i used his pretty face??????

[zorosdimples]

MORE, PLEASE, ALWAYS, FOREVER

pairing ༄ simeon x gn!reader

warnings ༄ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. suggestive content, religious/sacrilegious imagery, corruption, manipulation, dubious consent, drugging. simeon calls reader “little one” and “darling.” please let me know if i’m missing anything!

word count ༄ 771

notes ༄ this is my first time posting my writing, so please be kind! this drabble is darker than what i usually write; i’ve just been thinking about simeon and corruption for months… i have fluffier pieces in the works, i promise! <3

“but s-simeon,” you whispered, afraid to raise your voice lest desire drip from each syllable—as if the angel couldn’t see your trembling thighs or the glint of hunger in your gaze. your skin glowed, he observed, all dewy with want; he had never seen anything so beautiful, so vulnerable. your chest heaved as though you couldn’t catch your breath. “you’re an angel.”

“yes?” he hummed, trying not to sound too eager—all while his blood sang for you.

your tongue wetly floundered for a response, brain unable to comprehend anything other than the fierce fire that licked at your very core. oh, if he did not relish your sputtering, dumb state. you hung onto his every word as if he would lead you to salvation.

that’s what angels were created for, right?

“angels, humans, demons—we all have more in common than you think. we all have similar urges, similar needs,” simeon stated, lithe fingers traveling down your sides to dig into the soft flesh of your hips, forcing a breathy sigh from your lips. shame would have eaten you alive had it not been for your desperation.

“but you humans are rather self-centered, no?” he asked with an experimental squeeze that had your eyes fluttering dreamily. “you assume that your corrupted moral compass applies to the other two realms.”

you shivered as simeon leaned so close that you could smell the sweetness—caramel?—that clung to his skin. his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “angels, as god’s chosen creatures, are encouraged to love deeply.” his fingertips grazed your belly as you swallowed thickly. his hot breath melted your resolve while his thinly-veiled words had your nerves thrumming in anticipation.

patience was a virtue that simeon usually embodied, but the thrill you inspired within him was cracking his restraint. he couldn’t help but push: push himself, push you. he needed to hear you to say it.

he gently cradled your chin between his thumb and forefinger, angling your face to meet his expectant gaze. if you had been in the right state of mind, perhaps you would have noticed how his azure irises were unusually dark, pools of midnight you could drown in.

the smile that tugged at his lips was almost wicked as he probed, “what do you need, little one? tell me.”

the endearment fell on deaf ears as you leaned into simeon’s grasp like a simpering pet. your eyes flickered down to his lips instead of answering his question, biting down on your own almost hard enough to draw blood.

“ah ah,” he chided, pinching your chin, still a hair’s breadth from your face.

you looked like a wounded animal for a moment, eyes wide and shimmering, staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. you tried to wriggle from his grasp in embarrassment.

the angel’s grip was unyielding, though. he was certain there would be bruises on your tender flesh come morning—the thought only heightened his arousal. his honeyed chuckle, like a potent sedative, lulled your movements.

“as much as i appreciate your enthusiasm,” simeon said with featherlight strokes to your burning cheek, “i need you to use your words, darling.”

you whimpered in response. your brain was fried, incapable of intelligent thought. all you could do was feel and act—instinct usurping rationale—more animal than human. all you could muster was a breathy and pathetic “please,” punctuated by the unshed tears that sparkled in your eyes.

“please what?” he cooed with faux sympathy. his free hand skimmed down the slope of your shoulder and the curve of your arm to ultimately settle on the fat of your thigh. the movement caused a tremor to ricochet through your body.

he looked at you like he wanted to devour you, to pick your bones clean, to consume you so wholly that not even your soul remained. and maybe it should have frightened you. but all you wanted was to lay yourself bare and let the angel feast on you until there was nothing left.

“i need you, simeon,” you finally breathed, soft as a prayer.

as soon as the words left your bruised lips, he lifted you onto his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist. you exhaled a warbled moan when he dipped down to scrape his teeth against the column of your throat. “that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he murmured into your skin.

you were too far gone to answer—not that simeon cared. he finally had you where he wanted you, writhing and whining prettily. he made a mental note to thank solomon for the spell that had his little human begging for more, please, always, forever.

#oh god now i need to figure out the tags #pray for me #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #simeon x reader #simeon x mc #simeon x you #obey me simeon #obey me smut #simeon smut #simeon #obey me shall we date #om! smut #tw dubcon #tw dark content #i’m trying my best here #please lmk if i should tag anything else! #༄ kae writes

[onismdaydream]

totally having normal thoughts about leon having massive balls 😵‍💫

like ones that make him pump you so full of cum every time he fucks you, to the point that his jizz overflows. it spills out of your mouth when you suck him off because you would choke on it otherwise. it oozes out of your pussy because his cock is already taking up so much space, there's no where else for his cum to go

he loves when you suck on them, your mouth barely able to hold one in your mouth but you still try to stretch your lips to fit the other (you can't, you just end up drooling and messy from trying but he's certainly not complaining). you whine and cry when you feel how hot and soft they are, especially when you feel them draw up when he's about to climax

and the feeling of his fat, heavy sac slapping against you when he thrusts into you, bottoming out? unbeatable

#🫣 sorry im unwell thinking about this #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #perce.doc #i should have an additional tag for ideas like this.... hmmm #resident evil #| ☆ | — resi