#instead of everyone trying to contribute to the table

[ohmeadows]

When did you discover your love for writing?

this ended up being a bit of a story, so. sorry for length.

must have been around 2001? i went to a really underfunded school in a broke town and we didn't have anything to do after school ended, so i mostly went to my grandma's and read books she bought me. one day i came home and she'd bought the lotr trilogy, and it was a very difficult translation. it took me months of careful reading on her couch. then i finished it and it felt like my life transformed. i watched the movies as they released in the cinema, i didn't have any friends to hang out with on the weekend so i'd beg my mom to drive me to the nearest big town and let me watch fellowship of the ring again. i couldn't get enough, so i started visiting fansites for it and thus discovered fanfiction. my english wasn't great, but i couldn't stop thinking about writing something for myself. yes, mary sue/self-insert, whatever. yes, it was with legolas and aragorn and all of those.

my fanfics were, obviously, not good. but i had a good time making them. i connected with a community of writers who had a ton of advice to give out, who suggested books to read, movies to check out. while i'm not in touch with any of them anymore, i know some of them went on to become university professors and literary translators, and that's pretty cool. i honestly remember less of the writing as much as i remember the community i kept having on livejournal. on top of that, writing a journal almost daily was really good consistent writing exercise. i loved writing so much that it became The Hobby for me, and i kept the lj and a physical journal going at once.

[pathologicalreid]

hi!!! totally up to you if you want to write it (it maybe too self indulgent ahhhhh). but i was think of bau!reader (or bau!adjacent) who has known spencer for forever and has watched him "glow up"/become more confident and is now dating him, but is now more self-conscious that he will realize that he is totally out of her league since women are now hitting on him all the time and he is able to basically flip men in the field. something like that if you get the vibe? just a girlfriend who is worried her boyfriend will outgrow her and is scared they'll breakup. feel free to ignore! love your work sm!!!

a league of your own | S.R.

as your boyfriend seemingly evolves, you grow increasingly aware of the feeling of being left behind

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst (heavy on the fluff, more like internalized angst) content warnings: in a bar but neither spencer nor reader are drinking, follows the events of 14x12 "hamelin", discusses the pronunciation of asmr word count: 1.4k a/n: self conscious reader is so important to me. this is for everyone who has a hard time naming their feelings. thank you for requesting!!

“He flipped him over the table?” You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked up at Tara, who was talking about your boyfriend’s maneuvering of Arthur Brodie in the field. In passing, you had heard about the mark left on the suspect’s forehead, but you hadn’t heard the story of how he had gotten it – until now.

Bringing her cup to her lips, Tara nodded at you, her expression clarifying that it was as impressive as it sounded. You sighed at the newest addition to Spencer’s ever-evolving personality, it was hard not to think of them as grievances against you, but that’s what it felt like.

You looked over your shoulder to the bar, trying to scope out where he had disappeared to before you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls. From where you were standing, you could see him holding two drinks in his hands, but it wasn’t until he shifted his stance that you saw the girl that he was speaking with. “And that’s three,” Luke observed, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched the same scene as you.

Emily asked what he was talking about, but you tuned them out as you watched the interaction. You already knew this was the third woman to hit on him since the team entered the bar thirty minutes ago.

There was no mistaking it, your boyfriend was easy on the eyes, and you weren’t naïve enough to try to deny that fact. Still, you were having a hard time adjusting to seeing him garner exponentially more attention from people at the bar. “You better go get your man, or she might steal him away from you,” Luke taunted, nodding his head in the direction of the bar.

“What?” Your head snapped back in the direction of the bar, eyes wide as you peered across the bar where Spencer was talking animatedly to the blonde in front of him before he looked behind himself and gestured to you, prompting you to wave timidly at the both of them.

The girl sneered in your direction before spinning on her heel and trudging away, freeing your boyfriend to return to you at the table. “They didn’t have any limes, so they put a lemon in your Shirley Temple,” Spencer said apologetically, dropping a kiss on the part of your hair as he set the glass in front of you.

Shaking your head, you smiled up at him, “That’s fine, thank you.” You told him, placing your hand on the glass and spinning it to better access the straw.

If he noticed anything odd, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to contribute to Tara and Rossi’s conversation on ASMR.

As the team continued to chat around you, you just continued spinning your glass on the oak table, becoming more and more conscious of the way your thighs stuck to the leather booth. Your eyes only flicked up when you noticed people staring at you, “What?” You asked, heart racing as you had been caught daydreaming.

The five remaining members of your team at the table were all looking at you with similar curious looks, “Rossi’s headed out. He was just saying goodbye,” Penelope said, reaching across the table and awkwardly patting your hand.

“Oh,” you responded meekly, “Have a good night. Tell Krystall I said hi.” You shifted in your seat, the sound of your legs unsticking from the seat seemingly amplified tenfold in your self-conscious state.

As Dave made his way out, Spencer gestured for you to move over so he could sit next to you. Tara got up to get in line for the restroom and Luke and Garcia weaseled their way into one of their patented bickering matches, you nearly jumped when you felt Spencer’s hand settle on your thigh. “Alright,” he muttered, turning his head to you, “What’s up with you tonight?”

Frowning, you looked up at Spencer, brown eyes studying your face as he hunted for even the slightest hint of what had gotten into you. The only problem was you didn’t have a name for it yourself. It could be perceived as jealousy, but you weren’t concerned with anyone actually taking Spencer’s attention away from you, you were just feeling feelings. Unnamable feelings.

You brought your glass closer to you, the condensation being a welcome relief on your warm skin, pinching the straw as you took a sip of your drink. “Nothing’s up,” you said, stirring the lemon wedge around in your glass.

“Are you sure? You look flushed,” he said, pursing his lips thoughtfully before he gently pushed his water in your direction.

Brushing off his concern, you turned your attention to watching Luke and Garcia in an animated discussion on how to pronounce ASMR – Penelope insisted she was right, and Luke didn’t necessarily care either way. You only moved your gaze when the blonde from earlier passed by again, dragging her palm over Spencer’s shoulder, causing him to lean into you.

Flustered, you took a long sip of your drink before setting it back down, “Can we go?” You asked Spencer, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you looked at him expectantly.

As he began to put puzzle pieces together, he nodded, standing up and gathering your glasses to set them on the bar. You said your goodbyes before leading the way out and flipping Luke off as he called out something about protection, something that would have previously left Spencer embarrassed and stammering, but now made him chuckle as he held the door open for you.

Part of you was grateful for this sort of evolution in Spencer, he was, after all, more confident in every aspect of his life. Now waiting for the metro, you looked at him, longer hair, his work shirt unbuttoned at the top and pushed up to his elbows. The light breeze in the tunnel moved his hair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Are you alright, love?”

Your shoulders drooped helplessly at the pet name, “You shoved a guy on a table?”

His face fell, “Is that what this is about? Me using force against a suspect?”

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. He pushed Tara, it’s not that at all,” you scrambled to reassure him, knowing he was afraid that his time in federal prison had made him a violent person. “It’s just… you shoved a guy onto a picnic table and you’re getting hit on by people in bars and you’re dressing differently and I’m just… me.” You hold your hands out as if you’re on display, looking down at the sundress you had thrown on and the sneakers you wore for comfort instead of style.

“Are you jealous that I’m getting attention from other people?” He asked, “Because I’ve never encouraged anyone.” That was true, last week a deputy sheriff had made a move on your boyfriend, and the only thing he had gotten in return was an earful on how you had made the deduction that eventually solved the case.

Bowing your head, you regretted ever saying anything in the first place, “No,” you groaned, “What’s that term for someone who can’t name their emotions? That’s me. Right now. At this moment.”

Spencer chuckled at your frustration, “It’s called alexithymia, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’ve watched you change in front of my very own eyes in the last year, and I guess I’m just feeling left behind,” you admitted. “You’re a changed person and there’s nothing different about me.”

He tilted his head to the side curiously, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” you said desperately, hoping to get to the bottom of your conflicting emotions.

“Did you love me before?”

You froze, looking up at him, “Of course.”

He raised his eyebrows, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “And you love me now?”

Nodding, you stepped closer to him, “Very much so.”

“Then there’s nothing else I could possibly ask of you,” he told you, smiling as you blushed. “You don’t need to change in time with me, and – since we’re being honest – I’ve always felt like I’m the one lagging behind you. So, maybe I’ve just been playing catch-up.”

You frowned, moving even closer to him as the platform grew crowded, “Well, now I feel ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous,” he murmured, “Just human,” Spencer amended.

[thisismyhell]

Talking Back

Summary: you're the newest on the team, but instead of getting the newbie roasts, you join in on making Reid the constant punching bag. He's getting tired of the public humiliation, even though it turns him on a little bit.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: humiliation, making out, heavy petting, hickeys, hand job

You were sitting in the briefing room reading your respective files. It was a slow day and you were brainstorming helpful pointers for a local precinct. Without having to get on the jet, the room had no urgency. Sitting relaxed in your chair you went over the facts in your file, thinking about your own profile before contributing. 

Spencer sat across from you and was trying to act casual. Everyone was focused on their tasks but he couldn’t get himself to concentrate for too long without looking back up at you. He had been looking at the same page for 3 minutes and he was worried someone else was going to notice and ask him what was wrong. He was prepared to lie but didn’t want to if he didn’t have to. 

He was fidgeting with his hair, moving it behind his ear too often and almost choking out of awkwardness. His brow was sweating but it was August so he had an excuse ready. He watched as you chewed on the end of your pencil. 

“Y/n you know it isn’t healthy to put pencils in your mouth, you could end up poisoning yourself over time.”

“I’m chewing the erasure Spence. Like an oral fixation or whatever.”

He almost starts crying from how fast he blinks repeatedly. He doesn’t know what to say to you. Over the months you have been on the team, you have rendered him speechless multiple times and he’s really starting to hate it. Out of everyone on the team it’s you who makes him flustered and embarrassed. He wishes he had the guts to get mad at you for it but something tells him you’d see right through it. 

Spencer remembers a time a few months ago when he had to discipline you over not following protocol in the field. It was just the two of you following someone and you went forward without his knowing. You were still new and you were mandated to follow him, not the other way around. Everything went accordingly, but he wasn’t in the room first. He pulled you aside saying, “y.n, you cannot do that again” with his hand gripping your forearm. 

“Reid relax, everything’s fine”

“No it’s not fine, you can’t just go on your own like that you’re new!”

You glanced down at his grip on you, raising your eyebrows. He noticed and let you go. He tried a different tactic and stood up straighter towards you. He was already taller than you but he was really trying to make a point out of it this time. 

“Listen just- just don’t make a habit out of it.”

You giggled and walked away. That in itself was also unprofessional, and both of you knew it, but you knew that he didn’t actually care about the rules right now. He felt weird that you dominated him in this social situation and didn’t know how to react to you like he did with Emily. 

Reid prides himself on being composed and intellectual. When you entered his life you spun him around and made him second guess many many things. Women weren’t a problem for him, this he knew. He is friends with Emily, JJ, Garcia, Elle, this part wasn’t the issue. The issue was that not only were you a woman, but you weren’t listening to him. You were the newest on the team and you seemed to respect everyone else equally. But with Spencer, it was anyone’s guess. 

You knew you were the fresh meat and you also knew that a man like Reid is always the punching bag. You wanted to play along and bypass your newbie roasting. Everyone was catching on to this except Reid. 

He was still looking at you when you finally put the pencil down and he exhaled. 

“You happy now, spence? I won’t poison myself.”

He gulps but doesn’t answer. He just looks back down at his file. Hotch comes back in the room with more papers and passes them to Emily to pass the rest down around the table. You take yours and lean over to pass the last one to Reid. He looks up and notices the top button on your top has become loose. He imagines what would happen if the other buttons simply fell apart revealing your chest.

He’s still in his fantasy when his fingertips touch your knuckles. He’s never touched your hands before and they’re softer than he thought. He can smell your deodorant and perfume too. He hopes some of it will linger on him so he can remember this moment again later. 

“Reid? The paper?”

He pulls it from your hand and busies himself with reading it. After a few moments he hears you whispering to Emily. He assumes it’s about his weird behaviour and doesn’t want to wait and find out. He gets up awkwardly from his chair and it swivels around him, almost tripping him. You giggle again and try to hide it but it’s too late. You watch as he nervously excuses himself to the bathroom. 

Entering the bathroom he thanks god it’s empty. He has to deal with the stretch in his pants and he’s running through the ways to get rid of it. Should he touch himself? Or should he run through unpleasant thoughts until it subsides?

He’s leaning over the sink and staring at himself in the mirror when he hears the door open. He moves to enter a stall for privacy but when he turns around he meets your eyes. You’re looking at him with a smirk and he hates you. Of course you’re here right now with him, of fucking course. You just love getting under his skin like this. 

“You wanna talk about that?”

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“That’s not what I asked about. I said, do you want to talk about that?”

He shakes his head but you stalk closer to him anyway. He wants you to back out the door and forget this ever happened. He wants you to pounce on him and make it go away for him. He wants to make you feel humiliated like he does, and wonders if it would turn you on too. 

You’re in front of him now, pressing him against the counter without even touching him. If he had this kind of power over you, things would be different. He wouldn’t have to use his intellect or his body. You would just succumb to him without the fanfare. 

“Can I touch you?”

“I don’t think I have ever heard you ask permission to do something, y/n”

You look up at him with your big doe eyes, putting your hand on his tie, “I don’t like making a habit of it. Well?”

“Please…”

“Please…what?”

“God y/n..please…please just touch me.”

And you put your mouth on his. He’s finally tasting you and he starts to whimper. You eat it up as it eggs you on. You keep eating him up and he can barely stand it. If he was too tight in his pants before, now it’s almost painful. 

You put your hand over it and push, making a moan escape his mouth into yours. 

“Please…y/n…please..”

“What? What is it baby, what do you want?”

“Touch me. Please just- just touch me.”

You unzip his pants and put your hand inside. Spencer pulls his head away from you and you watch each other. His dick is in your hands and he’s whimpering as you put on the most innocent face you can manage. His jaw opens and you admire the sharpness. He’s so beautiful, how could you pass up this opportunity of obsession? 

Spencer barely has any energy left in him and he knows he’s going to finish any second. He leans his head into your neck and starts to suck, wanting to leave a mark. At least this way you won’t be able to ignore this afterwards. This can be a way for him to talk to you about this again, maybe make it happen again. 

“Y/vn, y/n I’m gonna….I’m gonna-”

He finished in your hand before he could say your name again. He coats your palm and you keep going until he tears up. He’s already getting hard again.

“I think you can do better than that, baby.”

He just wants to please you. He isn’t even touching you but he just wants to make you feel good this way if he can. He’ll touch you another time, when he brings up the hickey. He’ll tell you he likes the way his hickey looks on you and then he can be the one to touch you. 

He’s so hard he’s crying and can’t help it. Your hand just feels so good and you deserve to know just how good you are making him feel. This feeling is all your fault and you know that. You’re dragging it out of him whether he likes it or not. 

He finishes again and grabs the counter behind him to steady himself. You’re kissing his neck and calling him a good boy, saying he did so well. 

“Good boy Spencer. I knew you could do it for me, huh? Didn’t I say so?”

“Yes…yes you did y/n.”

Before you have the chance to walk away he grabs you and pulls you into his chest. He’s kissing you like he wishes he kissed you when he disciplined you. With his mouth on you and his hands gripping you, he turns you around so you’re pressed into the counter this time. You let him and he realizes this. You could easily push him away but you aren’t letting him. You’re right where you want to be. 

Spence kisses you hungrily while grabbing your ass, not wanting to miss the opportunity. He knows you can do so much better than him and he doesn’t want to take the chance. He sucks another hickey onto the other side of your neck and you let him. 

Of course you’ll want to do this again with him, but you enjoy messing with him more. You unbutton your shirt and he mouths down your chest, sucking and biting. It’s starting to hurt you but you like it. You like the passion he has and you don’t mind the marks he leaves. You’d let the boy cover you. 

Just as you start unclasping your bra, both your phones go off. You pull apart from each other and check the message. You have another case and have to get back to the meeting room ASAP. 

His hair is a mess and you’re both sweating. Reid buttons your shirt for you without being asked, and you move to fix his hair. He lets you. You’re both unsure of how to walk back into that room, but he knows he’ll end up letting you go first.

[juletheghoul]

greedy

a/n: I cannot be stopped at this point, this man brings out the WHORE in me and I have happily accepted my fate lol. This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a constant source of love and support and for contributing so much to this world, thanks my love! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus being a total glutton for your greed over him, creampie, heavy possessive feelings from you because lets be REAL, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.4k

reblogs are appreciated

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His house was in order, and that was mostly thanks to you. 

Since your return to Rome, and the villa, he has been busy. Mostly, it’s been a parade of high ranking officials, members of the noble families making their pilgrimage to pay homage to the ‘Saviour of Rome’.

He despised it.

With all of the ferocity within him, he despised it. You could see it in his visage, in the clench in his jaw when they’d come to call. The way the normally confident expression in his eyes, faltered and focused on his sandaled feet. If he hadn’t been the person he was, you might have laughed. But he was, and so you didn’t. 

After a few weeks it inevitably died down, and the whole house seemed to take a deep breath, it wasn’t to last though. Just as the air seems to settle, someone comes calling, someone very important. 

“Lavinia–” She is a true beauty, of high Roman birth and the daughter to one of the most influential men in Rome, just a step below the Emperor himself. “You honour me…” He is at a loss for words as she floats into the halls of his house. His eyes find yours but you don’t need him to say a word, within a moment you’re flitting towards the other attendants, and within the span of a few breaths, his table is laid out with enough food and wine to impress even one as fine as her. 

“I have caught you unawares have I not?” She giggles and the sound is almost calculated to ensnare, the jewels at her throat and dangling from her ears glinting almost as brightly as her eyes “I am glad to see I am not vying with anyone else for your attention, I wanted you all to myself this day.” He leads her to his table, and sends everyone out of the room but you. 

“Yes, well.” He clears his throat, and already you can feel him closing up, hiding behind his mask of courtesy. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

You stand behind his chair at the ready, and watch her cast her spell on him, silently. 

“Does one such as me need a reason to visit with you General Marcus? Surely with your victory you’d have a steady parade of young, quite available women marching through your halls, fighting tooth and nail to catch your eye.” She shook out her long blonde waves, subtly, but not so subtly angling herself in the most flattering way. “You are unmarried and unattached as of yet, all of Rome knows it.” She bites her lip, appealing to him in the way beautiful women always appeal to men and it shocks you to feel the unfamiliar stab of anger in your belly. 

He grunted, noncommittally. 

“I have come to…speak of such things.” She stretched towards him like a cat, picking a grape from the platters on the table, and nibbling at it softly, her lips the colour of ripe pomegranates. “If you would care to hear them, of course.” 

He has no interest in marriage, he cares too much for his time alone, he will tell you to leave–

“I will, of course, listen to whatever you have to say, Lavinia.” If you hadn’t been as experienced with him, you would have gasped. Instead, you stood there, trying with all your might to keep the shock off your face, and the tremble out of your hands. “Wine.” He spoke the word clearly, and it pulled you out of your shocked anger behind him. With a practiced hand, you poured for him, and then moved quickly to pour for her. 

You don’t catch his eye, but you feel it on you, no doubt noting the furrow in your brow,  tracking you, as you make your way back to your place behind him. You let go of a deep, steadying breath and for a moment you could swear on all of the Gods you see him smile over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, it’s gone. 

“Let us speak of them then.” She claps her hands together happily, “My father would have come to speak to you sooner or later, but I thought it best to test the waters myself, without the scrutiny of his eye.” She leans towards him again, elbows on his table, holding her delicate face in her hands and even you have to admit, it’s masterful. The jewels on her fingers only enhance the hue of her eyes. She takes advantage of the cut of her dress, the calculated pieces of flesh she has on display, and how cunningly she uses them is something to behold. You look down at the simple tunic you wear, the uniform of your station and all at once, you feel beneath her, beneath everyone. 

“And what would your father have to say to me, I believe you are more than capable of making a case for yourself. You strike me as the sort of woman that gets what she wants.” His tone is different, he sounds almost interested and it’s a dagger through your heart. 

Steel yourself, you are nothing but a slave, no matter how many times he buries himself inside you. You are what’s available, until he finds another, equal to him. 

She giggles, tickled, but unsurprised that he seems to be responding to her charms. 

“I do get what I want, in the end.” She smiles, and it is truly lovely, “and what I want is you.” 

“Shall I fetch more wine Dominus?” You step beside him, whispering with a tremble in your voice, hoping, wishing, praying to all of the Gods that he’ll spare you from this torment. 

“No.” A soft word, and your stomach turns. You step back silently. “I am surprised you have come to me, I am sure there are armies of men ready to fight to the death for you, why am I the one you want”

“Oh come now Marcus, you have just led our army in a great victory, the streets cry out your name, the Emperor himself has thanked you for your service, you are the most desired man in all of Rome, you know this.” She brushes his question off, “I can raise you up higher still, to the very halls of the Senate, should you wish it.” 

“The Senate? And what would I do in the Senate? I am no politician, I am quite content where I am.” He smiles for her benefit, and you do your best to remain impartial, and invisible. 

Unfeeling. Unmoving.

“It is an option, should you want it.” She reiterates, “Now, what do you say of this match? What are your thoughts?” She picks more food off the plates, completely confident. 

“I will say this, you honour me greatly,” She smiles, licking at the tips of her delicate fingers, “It is a lot to consider, and I would be grateful if I could have some time to think, send you word of my final decision once I’ve had time to settle back into civilian life.” He bows his head to her and she responds in kind, seemingly pleased with his response. 

She stays longer than the others, and he entertains her to her heart's content, sharing the less violent stories from the war he’d just won and letting her have her fill of his food and hospitality, and you stand behind him. Listening to it all. Until she grows tired and tells him she must depart. 

“I look forward to hearing your answer, don’t make me wait too long.” She smiles, pressing forward and kissing his cheeks boldly. 

“It was lovely to see you, please give your father my greetings. Be safe.” 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the air in the room felt thin and for a moment, your thoughts clouded your awareness. 

“You are angry.” His voice cuts through your reverie, making you jump where you stand at his table, setting it to rights. 

“Dominus?”

“Speak plainly, girl. You are displeased with Lavinia coming here, offering herself to me.” He stares at you, his eyebrow raised from his place on his favoured chair. 

“I, I have no cause, no reason–” You stumble over your words, wringing your hands to stay obedient.

“Yes you do. She comes into this house, this house that has been your home for a long time, and asks to make it her own. She would be your Domina, and that angers you.” He speaks with a smile in his voice, his eyes shining with the novelty of your misplaced, and maybe grossly inappropriate anger. 

“I, Dominus–your will is my will, whatever you command–” He raises his hand and for a moment you see a flicker of anger. 

“Speak truthfully now, girl. I see the rage on your face. I feel it in your gaze. I will hear the truth, tell me how you feel.” He narrows his eyes for a moment, and you know he wants to hear the truth. 

“I hate it.” You let go of a deep breath, steadying yourself for the wrath of insolence but it never comes, instead, he smiles. 

“I would hear your reasons.”

“I–I would not have her come here. I would not have her marry you. I have no wish to call her Domina or have her order me away from you. I… I would keep you all to myself,” his smile widens, “Dominus.”

He gestures for you to come closer, and you do, until you stand before him. 

“Would you now?” You stand in the space between his legs, watching the way his eyes dilate to hear you speak of keeping him. 

“Yes Dominus, I would have you all to myself, I would not have her keeping your bed warm.” You seethe at the thought of it, to hear him having her, the way he has you makes your blood boil and he smiles bigger still, his eyes crinkling with the mirth of it. 

“Tell me, my fearsome girl, how greedy you are that you cannot share your Dominus with another.” His hands slide up the backs of your legs, slipping up to cup your backside while your hands land onto his shoulders. 

“I am greedy, I cannot share you Dominus, I will not.” You press yourself closer to him, your fingers threading through his graying curls. “I could not bear to hear you with her.”

“Hmm. You want my cock all for your own, is that it? Only you are fit for the gift of my seed? Tell me.” He pulls your tunic up, and off, stripping you of everything until you stand bare before him. “Only you, and this sweet little cunt, hm? Is that the way of it?” He presses kisses to your belly as he speaks and all at once the anger is gone and replaced with a hunger that only he can satisfy. 

“Yes Dominus, only me-” You pull his face up and claim his mouth, moaning into it at the feeling of his hand cupping your sex. 

“Take it then, girl, take what so clearly belongs to you, what you would keep all to yourself.” 

You waste no time in stripping him bare, relishing to see the way his cock stands at attention for you, and not for the other woman. You ache at the sight of it, the proof of your desire for him dripping onto your thighs in your haste to mount him and when you finally feel him notch his cock at the mouth of your cunt, you practically drop yourself onto it. 

He groans to feel the way you clench around him, the two of you breathing heavily into each other's faces, adjusting to the way his cock seems to kiss your womb. 

“Is this what you wanted, girl?” He bucks up underneath you, and your breasts bounce in his face, mesmerizing him enough to make him do it again. “To claim me like this? Tell me–is this cock yours? Am I yours?” He bounces you again and it’s hard to focus on anything but the fullness of him, the way you feel the pleasure of it lights up every nerve in your body. 

“Yes, yes Dominus, mine–” Your fingers grasp his hair tightly and with every flex of his hips, you roll yours, grinding the pleasure center of your universe against the coarse hairs at the base of his sex. “Your cock is mine, only mine.” he lets out a filthy moan to hear it, and your nipples harden. 

“It is yours, take it, Gods, take it all–” He cannot seem to control himself, quicker and quicker he flexes, until your arousal drenches his lap and the sounds between your legs are wet and obscene. 

“Harder please Dominus, I want it harder–” You hold onto his shoulders, rolling your hips faster and within a moment, he moves forward, placing you on the plush carpet at his feet. Once on the floor, his hips piston and the sounds of your coupling ring out through the room. 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, your legs seizing up on his hips, and pulling a scream from your throat. He groans, feeling the way you squeeze around him, the force of your climax milking his cock dry. 

“God's girl, you have knocked the wind from me.” He breathes hard in your ear, pressing his lips to your mouth before moving his kisses down your throat, peppering them across your chest. His tongue licks at one nipple, then the other, making you flutter around him. 

A few moments pass, and although you are comforted by his weight, you don’t want to overstep. He forestalls you though. 

“Come girl, I would have this place set to rights, and retire to bed.” He pulls out with a hiss, moving up and away, “I would have you tell me of your anger, in depth, in my chambers.” He holds out his hand to help you up, and you take it with a smile. 

----

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[lemotmo]

The Buck brain rot is real for some Buckley's

Q. My mistake for believing that as a self proclaimed Buck girlie that scene would have bothered you. It was not okay and you're allowed to say so.

A. That scene was a couples fight. Full stop. It was written. Filmed. Blocked. And acted as a couple having an argument. Neither one of them was the bad guy. But the reality is that Buck does tend to make things about Buck first. Not in a bad way, but in a 'I'm always the one not being chosen in these scenarios' kind of way. Buck isn't doing it out of malice or self service. His default setting is to believe everyone will choose whatever outcome doesn't include him. And that makes it difficult to reason with him occasionally. It was a classic miscommunication argument, which was also kind of the point, and part of what contributed to the overall couple feeling of the fight in general. Buck's first reaction to bad news, or the potential of bad news, is to think how the choices on the table will affect him first. Again, not out of genuine selfishness or cruelty, but he still misses the fact that sometimes there is no fair to all involved choice, but a choice still has to be made. And no one, especially Eddie, is ever going to choose something to intentionally hurt Buck. But in those situations Buck insecurities override everything else for him.

Aside from the fact that the fight was clearly foreshadowing an NDE of some kind for Buck, putting Eddie in the position he wasn't able to be in for Bobby, helping to save Buck. Aside from the foreshadowing element the other really interesting thing was that this time Buck and Eddie were arguing from the side the other one usually occupies. Normally Buck is the one needing to talk about things, and Eddie is the one trying to keep everything shut inside. But this time Eddie is begging Buck to talk to him. He's desperate for them to grieve together and be the support for one another that they usually are, but Buck is denying them that because Buck is refusing to talk at all. Instead he's distracting himself by trying to assess how everyone else is handling their grief. The plotline for Buck and Eddie has been building to this all season long, but especially since the show returned from hiatus. All of their scenes have been building towards this upcoming finale episode. Eddie has been working on himself all season, and has become aware that he has to deal with things and talk about things before they spiral out of control, but he needs something that puts the Buck thing into perspective for him. Buck has been avoiding the Eddie of it all the entire season. He's hidden behind the things that he can fix and help with, subletting the house, talking Eddie through his nerves, but he has avoided examining the Eddie thing in general. Once it was verbally brought to his attention, by both Maddie and Tommy, Buck doubled down on his refusal to think about and acknowledge things. Both men are about to be put into a position that's not going to allow that to continue. Everything this season has been leading to this episode. I have no idea if the outcome will be full Buddie canon or just the clear knowledge thats where we're headed. But either way their moment of reckoning is coming. Buck being trapped with Ravi is literally trapping Buck with everything he's trying to avoid/overcome and putting Eddie in the position of possibly losing Buck is the universe screaming at them to talk. Talk about all the things they have spent years actively avoiding talking about. The fight was the final step leading to that reckoning. But even in the aftermath of that fight Eddie knew exactly what Buck needed. Buck's plotline for that episode was missing family dinner, the Bobby of it all, but it was represented in this episode by the family dinner tradition. Eddie was not aware of that because Buck's not talking to Eddie and Eddie isn't at the fire station to witness the lack of family dinners. Eddie still knew Buck enough to know Buck needed family time. Eddie didn't call the 118. He got Chris and pepa and gave Buck the family dinner he needed. No one knows Buck better than Eddie. No one knows Eddie better than Buck. Like any couple they knew exactly what buttons to push to set the other one off. That's what that scene was about, anon. Any argument desperately trying to make it something else is projecting and that's on you not Buck or Eddie.

Thank you Nonny!

I'm going to let this one speak for itself.

I fully agree that this was a couple's fight. There was no malicious intent to hurt each other. Eddie just 'reacted' and got lost in his grief there for a moment. That is all.

It's time to lay this discourse to rest now and focus on the next episode. 🤗

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[princessbrunette]

can u maybe write a fic where hyper fem shy reader has had like - the biggest crush on rafe since forever? Like it’s sooo painfully obvious in the way she blushes when he simply looks at her or does what he says, or takes his advice on how she should dress or who she should and should not be friends with. She literally hangs on his every word and when the kooks are like “hey what do you think about [enter subject]” she legit just looks to rafe because she always agrees with him. He lowkey knows about her crush and rafe is evil enough, at least in my opinion, to extort that and enjoy it.

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰

you had a crush on rafe and everyone knew it.

from the way you’d hold onto his every word, staring through your lashes with wide eyes at the simplest of stories, or giggle a little too loudly at every boyish joke he’d come up with — it was clear you were head over heels. too shy to make a move, sure — but almost just as happy to pine in peace. rafe knew this, it was abundantly clear — but he’d enjoyed having a sweet girl following him around like a lost puppy. in a sick and selfish way, it made him look good so he let it happen.

you hung onto the little moments, small victories in which rafe would give you the time of day. you still remember the time you walked up to the usual group you hung out with at the country club, rafe included and he’d turned to you, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes roam your form.

“hi.” you’d smiled simply as the rest of the group greet you, one of the other girls handing you a chute of expensive champagne — someone clearly celebrating something that day. rafes eyes lingered on your outfit. a small white lacy tube top with a matching white skirt and shoes. he places his bottle on the table and reaches towards you, fixing the small ribbon at the bust of your top. you freeze, eyes sliding up to his face in awe, watching the way the corner of his mouth tugs into the tiniest of smirks.

“i like this.” the compliment is simple, but you feel your body heat up regardless.

“yeah?” you smile sweetly and he nods, a small faux serious pout turned friendly grin before he was turning back to his friends and contributing to the conversation once more. you continued to watch him until one of your girlfriends nudged you, giving you a knowing smile.

another moment worth noting might be later on in the week, topper discussing an invite they’d received to a party thrown by someone they didn’t like too much. he turns to you, mid debate with his friends — involving you.

“look, what do you think? is it worth going to this party? i say a parties a party and if anyone starts their shit we beat their ass— but hey maybe that’s just me!” he lifts his hands up, the group erupting into debate. you stand quietly, before turning your head to look up at rafe sweetly, waiting for his input. he notes this, before stepping up closer beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“she knows we don’t fuck with them like that alright — don’t try n’loop her into your desperate tactics. you want a party? i’ll throw a fuckin’ party.” he shrugs, making the group swiftly agree, bursting into conversation as rafe looks down at you, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt collar. “don’t let this guy talk you into shit. you’re not goin’ to that party, trust me. come to mine instead.” and just like that — as usual, the moment is over as quickly as it starts but you still hold onto it, smiling uncontrollably at the fact he had his arm around you for even a moment.

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰

[moonlight-alexia]

just two friends | s.c.

steph catley x mccabe!reader | 1.2k | 'why are you here? I thought you’d want to be out with your friends right now,’ + ‘there’s no one else that makes me laugh the way you do,’

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the enchanted to meet you universe. this is before lil mac and steph start dating, when they're 'just two friends'

❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆

‘Where’s Steph?’ You leaned over asking your sister. You were currently out at dinner with Katie, some of the arsenal girls and some of the London based Aussies. Since joining Arsenal you’d become quite close with the defender quite quickly so Steph’s absence to things like this definitely didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

‘Said she wasn’t feeling well so stayed home instead,’ Katie shrugged and went back to her conversation with some of the others at the table. You frowned slightly. Besides seeing each other at training, you were still settling into Katie’s spare room, which was still a mess and she’d been getting on your back about cleaning it up, so you hadn’t spent as much time with Steph as you would’ve liked.

But hearing that she wasn’t feeling well made your stomach drop, you hadn’t experienced this feeling in a while, but you knew that you definitely didn’t like hearing that Steph wasn’t well. After that you weren’t really enjoying yourself all that much. Kind of just listening in to the conversations around you but not really contributing much.

You were just thinking of if there was anything you could do to help make Steph feel better, ‘Are you okay?’ Katie noticed how quiet you’d gotten, it was easy to get lost with a group of loud individuals but it was different and of course your sister could tell. You hated it but she’d always be the first one to notice any change in mood or if you weren’t your usual self.

‘I’m not feeling that great, maybe I’ll head off,’ You felt bad for lying and you did love spending time with everyone and meeting more of your sister's friends and joining in, but there was somewhere else you wanted to be.

‘Yeah we don’t wanna catch whatever you’ve got,’ Katie dramatically leaned away from you, joking around. 

As soon as you said your goodbyes and left the restaurant, you pulled up your notes app, opening the only one you had locked. A bit after you met Steph and started spending more time with her you started to note down every little thing about Steph. Things she liked and disliked, her favourite things like food, drinks, flowers and so much more. You hadn’t really thought much about it and why you were doing it. But you didn’t do it to this same extent for any of your other friends. Only for Steph.

Pushing those thoughts out of your mind, you juggled the bags in your hand making your way to the front door of the apartment you’ve found yourself in many times, sharing many different moments with your friend. You knocked on the door and came face to face with the one person you’d been missing lately.

The surprise was evident on Steph’s face. She definitely didn’t expect you to be at her front door, especially knowing everyone else was still out at dinner. The surprised expression turned into a small smile and an amused laugh watching you struggle with the bags while giving Steph the biggest smile, your eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

‘Why are you here? I thought you’d want to be out with your friends right now,’ Steph asked, shutting the door after letting you in. Settling the bags in the kitchen you frowned a little at the slight rasp and croak in Steph’s voice. 

‘You’re my friend too you know,’ You smiled small, fidgeting with the bags, ‘Heard you weren’t well and wanted to try and help you feel better,’ Shrugging like it was no big deal or anything, ‘I got you all your favourites,’ Steph moved closer, watching over your shoulder as you unpacked the bags onto the bench, showing her every little thing that you’d gotten. Until you suddenly closed the bag so Steph couldn’t see anymore, ‘Close your eyes,’ 

Steph raised her eyebrow in interest, once her eyes were closed you got the little surprise out of the bag, turned around so you were facing her and held it up, ‘Alright you can open them,’ You didn’t know if it was silly, but the way Steph’s eyes softened and she took the little dog plush from your hands, you knew that she didn’t think it was a stupid idea, ‘You can name it and then when you’re not feeling well or need company and I can’t be here then you’ll have him,’ 

‘Thank you,’ Steph whispered, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you in for a hug. The length of the hug went unnoticed by either of you, both just caught up in each other's presence. The way Steph’s arms wrapped around you felt comfortable and natural, ‘Think I’ll name him Calvin. Little Calvy,’ Steph pulled back a bit, one arm still wrapped around you, the other holding the little dog plush in between the two of you. Your arms still wrapped around Steph.

That little dog plush, Steph would always keep with her. Little Calvin would go on the long haul flights whenever Steph went back to Australia on her own, for camp or visiting family. The reason why you both ended up choosing the dog you did a few years later when you knew it was the right moment to get a dog together. Little Calvin, Big Calvin.

You cooked the two of you dinner, while you tried to keep Steph resting on the couch in a bundle of blankets. But she didn’t want to be far from you so you settled on her staying in the kitchen as long as she was staying wrapped up in the blanket, you didn’t want her cold to get worse. You both settled into the couch afterwards, Steph’s head leaning on your shoulder, your arm wrapped around her waist. 

Comfortably watching a movie, how it always seemed to be, the two of you had gotten close quite fast and neither of you ever second guessed your actions with each other. Everything always just happened naturally and felt normal and right to do. 

‘If I was getting eaten by a bear, I’d definitely try to get a pat in,’ Your voice broke through the sound of the movie on the tv. 

‘What do you mean?’ Steph laughed out in slight disbelievement, definitely amused at your comment.

‘I mean, bears look so soft and cuddly and if I had the chance to pat one I would take it,’ The seriousness to your voice, the slight side smile, Steph laughed out even more shaking her head at you, ‘That feels like a pretty good opportunity to give them a little pat,’ 

‘You’re such an idiot,’ Steph leaned her forehead down against your shoulder while she just kept laughing. You joined in, your smile big.

‘What? You wouldn’t take the chance to pat them?’ You spoke between taking breaths from laughing.

‘If I was getting eaten by a bear, I definitely would not be thinking about giving it a pat,’ The laughter shared between the two of you could be heard throughout the entire apartment building, Once the laughter had died down, heavy breaths were taken while you both tried to catch your breath again after laughing so hard for so long.

‘Honestly,’ Steph’s voice, much more raspy now than before, ‘There’s no one else that makes me laugh the way you do,’ Your eyes connected and both your smiles easily reached your eyes. Eyes, Steph’s eyes that now twinkled with a glimmer of something you weren’t quite sure of but it made your stomach flutter a little bit.

‘You have a pretty laugh,’ You whispered, taking a deep breath, you pulled Steph closer and you both settled again how you were before, eyes back on the movie, ‘I like making you laugh,’ 

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (2/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, kissing, sexual tension, eavesdropping, discomfort associated with the loss of an eye, remorse, doubts, anxiety, unprofessional behavior ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name.

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After filming the scene, they rose from the bed as if nothing had happened. The director complimented her acting, saying that she was able to wonderfully portray both the innocence and temptation her character evoked. She smiled at him as he unscrewed the water bottle and took a sip from it, walking towards him.

"They say the beginnings are the hardest." She said softly, looking around, waiting for the director to review again what they had managed to record and decide if anything needed to be repeated.

"Mmm." He hummed, taking another sip of water, feeling uncomfortable now that he was standing in front of her without a script, not knowing what to say.

They stood side by side in awkward silence for a while, looking at their director – he finally said that he liked everything and they would now shoot the scene where the Prince wakes her up in the middle of the night, dragging her out of her chamber after returning from Storm's End.

When he returned to his hotel room he collapsed on his bed, tired but also content. He felt ashamed that he had forgotten the line and at the same time he was grateful that his partner on set had helped him and been supportive, warm and understanding.

He didn't know how he felt about getting aroused during the scene of them kissing – he wondered where the limit of method acting was and whether he had gotten that much into his character or whether it was something else.

He decided he wouldn't think about it, and as long as they played their parts well, nothing else mattered.

The next day there was a big breakfast together in the hotel restaurant. At the table sat the director and his deputies, the writers, producers, actors, stylists and the many other people who contributed to this gigantic production.

She smiled at him from afar and waved at him, sitting at the table in her hair tied up in a braid, on her body only a T-shirt with the Pokemon logo and yellow tracksuit shorts.

He swallowed quietly, putting his hands in his trouser pockets, and sat down next to her, greeting her and everyone else along the way, unsure of how to act. Aegon sitting on the other side of the table extended his hand to him and he shook it.

"– how are you two doing? – you already have some passionate scenes behind you, right? – he's hot, isn't he? –" He asked her partner with amusement, who laughed out loud, trying to turn his question into a joke.

"– everyone here is beautiful and talented – I'm in heaven –" She said softly, deftly avoiding answering. Aegon laughed at her words and stretched in his chair, yawning loudly, losing interest in the subject.

He reached for the cheese toast, watching out of the corner of his eye as her hands placed the pancakes on her plate, which she covered next with pouring chocolate. She lifted her gaze to him and smiled at him warmly as their gazes met – he turned his face away, feeling like a mute, his heart stuck in his throat.

Why was he acting like an idiot in front of her?

It seemed to him that she took his silence as a signal that he simply wanted to eat his breakfast in peace, so she spoke animatedly to the woman to her right, Alys Rivers, who was to play the Witch of Harrenhal.

Aegon was talking to him across the table, mentioning something about their shared scene with him and Helaena. He nodded, sipping his toast with a gulp of coffee, absorbed in his thoughts, for some reason returning to their kiss.

He'd kissed many women in his career before, but this time it was something different.

He thought she was an excellent young actress.

In the following scenes they played he saw her in a gown for the first time. He thought she looked like some immortal elf in it, beautiful and light, a warm, gentle smile directed towards him on her face.

Her gown consisted of two colours – her long, floor-length sleeves were red, and the material hugging her breasts, hips and waist was light blue. Her shoulders were bare; other than that, she wore no other jewellery, her long hair falling softly down her back, accentuating her long neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling a twinge in his gut for some reason, and turned his face away, sitting down with her at the table where, together with Aegon and Helaena, they played out the scene in which the King informed them that they would be marrying for a second time, this time before the Septon.

They spent the rest of the day in the courtyard, filming shots of them meeting years later, and their conversation after they married, when the Princess came out to speak to him.

He felt a pleasant tingling in his lower abdomen at the thought of kissing her again: to his surprise, cupping her chin and placing a tender, soft kiss on her mouth came to him with ease. Her moist, fleshy lips didn't close against his caress, on the contrary, they parted invitingly, her hand tightening on his wrist.

Encouraged, though it wasn't in the script, he took a step forward and deepened the kiss, lazily brushing her soft mouth with his, her eyes closed, a quiet, sweet sigh left her mouth.

When he pulled away, he met her gaze, warm and misty, her cheeks flushed. He stroked her jaw with his thumb and she surprised him by rising on her toes, kissing the tip of his nose.

He felt his heart pound hard at the thought that this was not in the script.

However, he checked it quickly afterwards as he prepared for the next scene and saw that the director had added it as a suggestion.

He was furious with himself for feeling disappointed.

What was he thinking?

He didn't think it would be a problem for him, but he actually felt discomfort when it was time for them to play the scene where the Prince pulls off his eye patch in front of his beloved.

A new prosthetic eye was created especially for him which looked like a sapphire to represent his character well.

He was to wear it that day instead of his usual artificial left eye.

The sapphire eye was cleaned and prepared for him by the doctor who supervised, staying with him in private in the dressing room, that all was well. The very moment he closed his eyelid and opened it he felt that it was not.

Although its surface was smooth, something was wrong about its shape, rubbing his eye socket, once in a while pressing on a nerve under his skin from which shivers ran through him.

"It will take at least a few days to polish and change it."

He thought with a pursed lips that they didn't have that much time.

The shooting schedule was set to the hour.

He figured he would just get into his character's suffering more than he should.

As he walked onto the set he was met by her warm, comforting smile. He closed his eyes, clamping his fingers on the base of his nose, trying to listen in peace to what their director had to say to them.

"It's a scene of their tenderness, their closeness, at last devoid of subconscious brutality. In that one moment they reclaim each other." He said, and they nodded their heads.

In the original, this was accompanied by a sex scene, but the screenwriters decided that affectionate, passionate kissing would suffice here.

The thought that he would be able to do this to her made his heart pound like crazy, but he couldn't enjoy it: he clenched his eyes again and again, feeling discomfort.

Feeling pain.

For some reason, he thought he deserved it for his inability to be professional, for what they were doing was out of his control.

Rhaenys sat down on the desk and he stepped in front of her, between her thighs, her dark blue dress with exposed shoulders and sleeves reaching the ground perfectly accentuated her graceful figure.

She smiled, placing her hands on his shoulders, his fingers involuntarily running over her waist.

"Action!"

He took a step towards her, cupping her face in his hands, trying to focus only on her gentle gaze, only on her warm breath, only on how soft her skin was, instead of the fact that pain was filling his skull.

"Rhaenys." He whispered tenderly, pleadingly – the discomfort he felt made his words resound as if he was in pain – in pain because of the fact that they were separate.

She blinked, surprised and somehow touched, clearly appreciating his acting, which was only a matter of coincidence. She lifted her hand to his eye patch and he grabbed her wrist violently, her breath stuck in her throat.

"No." He said coldly and closed his eyes, feeling the pain as if a bolt of electricity surged through the left side of his face.

"You're my husband. That's enough." She whispered, wanting to soften her words by taking his face in her hands, making him involuntarily moan in pain. She let go of him, terrified.

"Are you okay?" She asked leaning over him and he nodded his head.

"What's going on?" The director asked them. "We're going to have to repeat the whole scene."

Fuck.

"Are you in pain? Please tell me." She whispered pleadingly and he shook his head.

"No. No, I….FUCK!" He hissed, leaning over, clasping his hand over the left side of his face, feeling such excruciating ache that he felt like ripping off his skin and tearing out all the nerves that were there.

"Call a doctor, he is in pain!" She called out, startling him by pulling the eye patch off his face. He heard her sigh in horror and cover her mouth with her hand, his stomach clenched in discomfort at the thought.

That she saw it.

That she felt disgusted.

"My God, his eye is all swollen up, what have you done to him? Can you take it out? Come." She said, taking his hand, and he walked out of the room with her like a small child, bumping into the doctor on the way.

"I warned him" He said.

"I can stay and help. If you don't mind." She said sitting down next to him on the couch in his dressing room.

He wanted to reply for her to leave, but he only groaned, unable to stand it, and as soon as the doctor had disinfected his hand he removed the sapphire prosthesis from his eye socket.

He did not know why he burst out crying.

He hid his face in his hands, feeling humiliated, thinking that the reason he had been taken for the role was because they hoped they wouldn't have to spend money on expensive CGI, but in fact he had wasted their entire day of filming.

He swallowed hard when he felt her arms embrace his head and let her lean over as she hugged him to her breasts, her pleasant scent, her warm hands stroking his jaw and back.

"Leave us alone for a moment." He heard her voice. The man nodded and said he would fetch an ointment that should soothe the abrasions.

"It would be best if you didn't wear your artificial eye today and let your eye socket rest." The man said.

"Get the FUCK out!" He growled, closing his eyes, thinking it was wonderful news, going around the set with an empty eye.

He thought it was the worst day of his life.

He swallowed hard as her forehead pressed against the top of his head, her gentle hands stroking his face, shoulders and back giving him a feeling of comfort and security.

It was so hard for him, and she was by his side.

"I admire you for holding out for so long. They should have checked that the prosthesis fit earlier, not on the day of filming. It's the production's fault and the director knows that. I'm sure he appreciates your commitment and will reorganise the work." She whispered calmly, as if she wanted to comfort him, and indeed, her words made him feel relieved.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Don't apologise."

"Can I lay my head on your lap?" He asked in a trembling voice, wondering if his request was disrespectful.

He just wanted to close his eyes for a moment and relax.

"Yes. Yes, of course, come here." She said, turning so that he could lie down.

He turned his head so that she couldn't see his left eye socket and rested his cheek on her thighs, placing his hand on her knee. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly when he felt one of her hands on his shoulder and the other on his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin.

There was complete silence between them.

"I got really attached to you, you know? I hope we still keep in touch after the shooting." She whispered making him swallow hard, cold sweat trickling down his neck as he felt his manhood react to her words with an aggressive throbbing.

"Yes." He muttered. "Yes, me too."

He spent the evening in the hotel bar, meant for guests only, feeling reasonably safe there, wanting to ease his mind a little, wearing a thin bandage over his left eye that allowed air to pass through.

He resented himself for being unprofessional, for having his real feelings mixed up with what he was supposed to be playing as a Prince character.

For the first time, he doubted whether he should really be an actor.

His grandfather surprised him by walking up to him from behind, patting him on the back.

"Don't worry about the issue with the artificial eye: it was their fault and the director came to me to apologise for the prosthesis not being tested earlier. You both do a wonderful job on set. The chemistry between you two is palpable and it shows on camera." He said, sitting down next to him at the bar table.

He pressed his lips together at his words, wondering if he should confide in him.

"I don't know myself. I'm confused." He confessed, embarrassed. His grandfather looked at him in surprise as soon as he ordered a double whisky for himself.

"Confused? Because of that girl? It's normal. She's kind and pretty. If you're feeling desire, that's good. Turn it into your acting." He said lightly, however, making him feel not relief but discomfort in his stomach. He stared dully into his glass for a moment, feeling the aggressive pounding of his heart.

"… I'm not sure if what's going on inside my head is good." He said in a trembling voice. His grandfather hummed under his breath, taking a sip from the glass the man had placed in front of him.

"As usual, you think too much. Even if… well, something happens between you two, one or two nights, it's nothing terrible. On set it happens all the time. The tension is high and you have to find an outlet for it somewhere." He said.

He got up from his seat and just left, feeling that he had made him sick.

He didn't agree with him, and he didn't think that using her to get off sexually was a normal thing to do.

She was young, younger than him, still filled with enthusiasm and naivety.

He didn't want to be one of those men who would take advantage of that, seduce her and then leave her humiliated as soon as the shooting was over, saying it was just a fun.

He had casual sex with actresses, but never with those he worked with directly. Nothing came of it because their paths quickly diverged and he didn't have the desire or strength for a long-distance relationship.

He didn't care.

He took a shower, brushed his teeth, changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants and went to bed, trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow they were to play a scene in which he exposes her breasts.

Not all love scenes were left in the script, however, this one was one of them, because it was significant moment – their first real intimacy and reunion after years.

They knew there was enormous pressure on them. He could see it in her face the next day – also dressed in a night gown she was looking down at her fingers, stressed, not a trace of her smile and confidence from the auditions.

He approached her, for some reason feeling that he should comfort her, lift her spirits, let her know that they didn't have to rush.

"– do you want to talk about how we're going to do this? –" He asked quietly and she nodded, unable to even look him in the eye.

"– yes –" She mumbled.

"– so –" He began, feeling for some reason that his heart started pounding like crazy, his hands clenched into fists. "– I'd start with kisses first – on the lips, on the neck, on the shoulders – they're rubbing against each other in this scene because they're feeling arousal, so it would be a good idea to try and mimic similar…movements – then I'll slide your nightgown off your shoulders – we can agree that you will guide my hand yourself when you think you're ready for me to touch you there –" He said quickly, forcing himself to be calm and composed, feeling a cold sweat run down his back.

Why was he so terrified?

He saw that she swallowed hard and nodded, looking up at him and lowering her gaze quickly, red with embarrassment.

"– yes – yes, that's a good idea –" She said and looked at him, her gaze warm, comforting.

Kind.

"– how's your eye? –"

He lowered his gaze, looking down at his boots, embarrassed.

"It's better now. Thank you. For everything. I don't want you to be scared today. Tell me if you feel something is wrong. Okay?" He hummed, and she nodded quickly, giving him a grateful smile.

"– thank you – I will –"

He swallowed heavily when the director told them to take their places. He sat down in a chair and she walked over to him, looking at him questioningly. He nodded, extending his hand to her to help her up, and she sat awkwardly on his thighs. He gently placed his hand on her hip, forcing her to slide closer to his chest, just as scripted.

They both swallowed hard as his manhood pulsed between her thighs under the material of his breeches, touching the material of her flesh-coloured panties, but neither of them said anything.

"– we will take it slow – okay? –" He encouraged her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand, bringing her face close to his. She nodded and smiled warmly at him, as if he had said exactly what she needed to hear.

"– okay –" She said.

Their director nodded at them.

"Let's try to get a feel for it first. This scene is about building tension slowly. If you feel discomfort, speak up, we'll try to do something about it. Ready?" He asked, and they nodded their heads like little children.

"Action!"

Apart from the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace to their right, surrounding their faces with warm light, there was complete silence around them.

He waited a moment before he pulled her face closer to him and his lips tentatively brushed hers in a slow, shy, moist kiss. He felt her body involuntarily move closer to him, her arms closing his neck in an tender embrace.

He felt her soft breasts through the material of his tunic, his hands traveled down her waist to her hip which he began to stroke in a soft, lazy, affectionate motion. She sighed softly into his mouth making his half-hard erection hit the space between her thighs again.

They froze in mid-motion and he was already about to apologise to her, telling her to stop, when this time it was she who leaned in. His voice went dead in his throat as her lips pressed against his, her body rubbing uncertainly against what was beneath her.

Fuck.

He thought as his hips tentatively came out to meet her, pressing what was in his breeches between her thighs, making it swell and pulsate, that this was not a good idea.

He knew she could feel it and that turned him on even more.

Her breath had become heavy and accelerated, their kisses messier, stickier, warmer, his fingers involuntarily dug into the skin of her hips hidden beneath the thin material.

"– uncle –" She mewled into his mouth in a way from which his erection became completely hard, his hand clamped down on her neck, forcing her to stay still as he slid his tongue deep into her throat.

She moaned, startled, gripping his shoulders, rolling her hips back and forth as if in a trance, teasing him deliberately, squeezing his length between his lower abdomen and her body again and again, the tip of her slick tongue licking his.

"– it tickles – here –" She mumbled helplessly, pressing her forehead against his, looking down, between her thighs, watching his bulge twitching in his breeches, which, however, only they could see.

He should have said his line, but instead, completely stunned by her behaviour and smell, he grabbed the material of her nightgown and slid it off her shoulders, snuggling his face between her sweet breasts.

She opened her mouth wide, shocked and moaned, hugging his head to her heart, making his cock throb hard. She took his hand in hers and guided it up, to her breast – he gasped, shocked how good it felt, squeezing tentatively her plump softness with his fingers, placing sticky, wet kisses on her sternum, her hands buried in his hair pressed him tighter against her bare, hot skin.

It seemed to him that she was as shocked by this sensation as he was, for she began to moan quietly – her nipple became hard under his thumb as he began to rub and tease it, his free hand clamped down on her buttock, again and again rubbing his painfully swollen erection against her.

He was turned on.

"Cut! What chemistry, I'm at a loss for words!" The director called out, and he let her go immediately.

She jumped back and got off his lap, inhaling heavily as if she was out of breath, putting the material of her nightgown quickly over her shoulders and breasts, the stylist said something to her and she just nodded, looking at him with big eyes.

He crossed his legs quickly and grunted, covering his mouth with his hand, looking towards the fire, pretending to listen to one of the assistants saying that now that they were all in emotion they would try to film their conversation years later.

Although they tried, neither of them could concentrate and they forgot their lines over and over again.

"What's going on with you two? Do you need a break?" The director asked them, and they replied at the same time that they did.

It frightened him to see her leave immediately, the thought that she might nevertheless have felt uncomfortable, that he had done something that crossed the line for her, but she was afraid to tell him.

He got up and followed her, heading for the rooms where they were changing and getting their make-up done, standing in front of the door with her name on it.

He froze when he heard a strange sound that seemed to him to be a moan of pain. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask if she was all right, if he could come inside, but then she made a different sound, a more familiar one that made his erection throb hard in his breeches.

He heard her quiet panting mixed with sweet, innocent mewls of pleasure, from which he himself began to breathe through his mouth, shocked.

He leaned his forehead against the door, wanting to hear it better, with the corner of his eye looking to see if anyone was around, but they were all on the set. He thought he was just a pervert when his hand travelled deep under the material of his trousers, clamping down on his long, swollen cock, twitching painfully with desire in his hand.

He imagined what she looked like now, digging her delicate fingers into her fleshy walls, leaking with moisture, pulsing because of him, because of what he had done to her, because of his kisses and touch.

He drew in a loud breath and pressed his lips together, giving himself a firmer squeeze at the base, imagining that he had grasped her thighs in his hands and spread them in front of his face, sinking his mouth into her wonderful, delicate folds, licking and caressing her little cunt.

He sped up, hearing the quiet sounds in her room become more vulnerable and helpless, and after a moment she moaned a little louder with some kind of relief.

He opened his mouth wide when he felt his warm semen spurt out onto his fingers at the thought that she had just come because of him.

He cursed under his breath as he looked at his hand and headed quickly to the bathroom, afraid that anyone would see him.

As he washed his hands in the sink he looked at his reflection, at his white wig and eye patch, and decided that he was beginning to lose control, that he no longer knew which feelings were his and which were his character's.

He was terrified and had no one to tell about it.

He only saw her at dinner that evening, and although she sat next to him, she didn't look at him. He pressed his lips together at the thought that she was as ashamed as he was, only she had no idea that he knew what she had done and that he had done exactly the same thing himself.

He was crushed by a sense of guilt that he didn't know what to do with.

He decided to finally speak to her, feeling his heart in his throat, playing with his fingers.

"Did I overdo it? Today during our scene." He asked in a trembling voice, trying to sound indifferent and cool. She looked at him surprised, putting her glass of juice down on the table.

"– I – no, I'm sorry I left so suddenly – it's just that all of this – all of this has overwhelmed me –" She muttered, looking down at her hands lying on her lap.

He looked at her in silence, feeling a squeeze in his throat at the thought that he understood her, that perhaps they felt the same way.

"– if you don't mind – I'd like to rehearse scenes with you before we play them – I'd like to talk to you about them – I have too much chaos in my head and no one to share it with –" She said, looking up at him finally, her brow furrowed in fear that he would not take her suggestion well.

He, however, felt some wonderful kind of relief.

"– yes – yes, that's a great idea –"

They spent the next few days acting out scenes, talking to each other for hours in the evenings in the hotel restaurant or her room about how they wanted to portray particular dialogues.

"– then when they're arguing I think to approach it more along the lines that: he just wants forgiveness and she's tired of him always expecting her to forgive him, even though he himself has held a grudge against her for so many years – something like: what should I do now? – divorce you? –" She asked sternly, getting into character for a moment, wanting to show him what she meant.

He hummed at her words and nodded, intrigued.

"– yes – yes, I think it's a good track – he's broken, exposed, afraid of the visions of that witch – he tries to push it away, but because of the way he represses it, everything he's afraid of comes back to him in nightmares –" He said, half lying half sitting on her bed with a copy of the script in his hand, the other gesturing as if he were a lecturer.

She nodded quickly at his words, sitting down next to him on the sheets, excited.

"– yes, exactly – he locks too much inside himself, and everything he fears then manifests itself in his dreams – his thoughts overwhelming him more and more and filled his mind like water that finally bursts his skull –"

"– a drop drills a rock –" He murmured and she snapped her fingers.

"– exactly –" She said, swinging her legs.

Unintentionally, his gaze traveled over her figure – her light-coloured sweatshirt with Jigglypuff from Pokemons seemed very fluffy to him, white tracksuit shorts and pretty white floral socks on her legs.

"– are you still watching this? –" He grinned with amusement. She cocked her head, smiling broadly.

"– what? –"

"– Pokemons –"

She giggled, embarrassed; the sound, innocent and sweet, made him feel a tightening in his throat and a pleasant tingling in his lower abdomen.

"– yes, but only the first few seasons – you know – the classics –" She said, closing her eyes proudly, as if she were speaking some work of Shakespeare.

"– mmm – I watched this when I was a kid –" He confessed, and she shifted towards him, delighted, surprising him completely.

"– I have a laptop – do you want to watch the first episodes together and order a pizza? –"

Though the suggestion seemed absurd to him, he agreed, and it wasn't long before he was watching, lying next to her on her bed, with a big carton of pizza lying on their bellies, as Ash tried to tame Pikachu.

"– God, how long it's been since I've watched this –" He muttered, feeling some kind of melancholy. He heard her melodious, joyful laughter.

"– I know this episode by heart –" She said between one greedy bite of pizza and another, clearly pleased and happy.

For some reason, despite his rather solitary nature, he felt comfortable around her. Her behavior made him feel like he wasn't being judged or watched – he knew he could say at any time that he was going back to his room to rest, and she wouldn't hold it against him.

He caught himself thinking that he really liked her.

What made him involuntarily distance himself from closer acquaintanceships with actresses was that it often seemed to him that they played offstage as well – they stepped into the role of innocent, sweet, dreamy romantics or passionate unapproachable women, but in fact he had no idea if he knew them at all.

With her, however, it was different – her sudden, unexpected reactions, the glint in her eye, her smile and unthinking remarks were real.

For some reason, her character, her presence had a soothing effect on him.

He was ashamed to admit that he liked her a little too much.

He kept repeating to himself that just one more episode and he would go, but another and another flew by. Her warm, soft body was wonderfully close, their arms were pressed against each other, their heads lying side by side on the pillow, as they looked at the laptop lying between their legs.

For some reason he felt like a little child again who was about to spend the night with his mate.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed that her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly, her head tilted to one side in deep sleep.

Something captured him in this sight – the thought that she felt comfortable and good enough with him that she had fallen asleep.

He rose slowly, taking the large pizza box from their thighs, setting it down on the floor and rose, trying to be quiet. She twisted around and hummed something as he covered her with the duvet and turned off the lamp, feeling somehow proud of himself for treating her the way she deserved it.

It was as if he had a friend.

[idksmtms]

'tis the damn season (Modern!Aegon Targaryen x reader) - evermore series

A/N: Hiiiiii! I am finally back after way too long omg! While I am still stumbling my way through getting back into my writing, please enjoy this next instalment of the evermore series! I will slowly be coming back and trying to post a lot more often, but just bear with me while I navigate my writing journey. Enjoy!!!

Summary: Three years ago you left home behind to pursue university. You left Aegon. Now, you’re back and faced with not only the destroyed relationship you had once run from, but all the thoughts and feelings you have been dwelling on and refusing to face over the years you’ve been away. 

Word count: ~3.9k

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, angst, post-breakup, Aegon being heartbroken (past), breaking up, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of rehab, rehab recovery, breakups, heartbreak, just painful and difficulty reunions, owning up to your mistakes and too-late realisations, angsty but hopeful (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

The smell of mulled wine wafted gently across your face, carried by the warm air blasting from every heater in the manor. Cinnamon, and close, star anise and a hint of cherry, Mrs. Targaryen’s personal twist that made the recipe oh so coveted. 

The door was unmanned, a rather surprising thing given how much Mrs. Targaryen loved to flaunt the servants and security guards. Perhaps you really had been gone too long. 

You deposited your clutch on the little side table and divested yourself of your coat, first one arm, then the other, a quick pat of the pockets, a little fling onto the coat rack so the heavy black felt thing was situated just enough not to topple the overflowing rack over. You brushed the hem of your dress down, fingertips catching on the glistening red sequins before brushing over your black tights. 

You picked up the clutch again, a matching red sequin rectangle, and turned to the ornate mirror hung on the wall above the end table, gold edged and running the length of the wall. You took up only a sliver the size of you, and clasped your hands around the clutch to press it to your stomach. You straightened up, shoulders back and spine relaxed. You stretched your lips here and there, weird grotesque smiles and pouts and bared teeth to check for the millionth time that the slash of red lipstick had not strayed. You batted your eyes at yourself before turning away and beginning a gentle walk down to the splash of light in the hall from which a daunting array of chatter, clinking glasses, and soft instrumental seasonal tunes emitted. 

When Mrs. Targaryen heard (from the mouths of your parents no less) that you had finally returned after three years of university (“not even one visit during all that time?!” she had inquired to your mother - who then promptly explained that they went up North to you instead), she had impressed upon your mother that if you declined to attend her annual holiday party that she would take it as a personal affront. 

So here you were, fashionably late (only due to the almost clinical level of overthinking you had engaged in from the moment you began to dress to just a second prior) and ready to show your face in what you and Helaena had affectionately dubbed ‘high society’ once more. 

It’s not like you had cut off ties with everyone when you left. Almost everyone who had followed you on instagram was still there, nestled in your private profile (except the select few that were occasionally pruned on days you were bored). You still responded to messages, were still in the group chats (despite never once contributing), facetimed friends, et cetera, et cetera. Just because you didn’t return didn’t mean anything (except, of course, that it did). 

You stepped into the room, slow but steady, and took a moment to gaze around the ballroom. You were unsurprised at the continuing theme of green. Dark green curtains cinched back at each bay-style window, sashes and bows of the same fabric framing the tops. Dark green, satiny, tablecloths draped carefully over the standing tables dotted all around. The Christmas tree near the back towered over everyone, glowing with yellow lights and gold, silver, and phthalo green baubles. You still remembered how Mrs. Targaryen said that coloured tree lights were tacky, one of the more posh things you had heard from her in your early teen years. 

You dropped your gaze to the people. You could see some familiar faces, girls you hadn’t spoken to since the end of school, but whose instagram stories still diligently kept you up to date on their lives. Other people who had dropped off your radar completely and now brought vague and somewhat touching memories to mind of moments shared in classes, laughs and jokes once given and received. 

You caught glimpses of Mrs. Targaryen’s auburn hair through breaks in the crowd, a delicate hold on a flute of glass filled with non-alcoholic cider. Since you had known her she had refused to partake in drink, something that had earned your respect once upon a time. Before… 

You caught sigh of Aemond in the corner, a shiny black suit doing well to blend him into the shadows. He was gently grasping a flute glass in long elegant fingers, and his eyepatch was a perfect match to his suit, pressed perfectly to his face and over his neatly combed man bun. 

His ever watchful eyes caught you quickly, a spark of recognition, a little lift of the brow, the careful deposit of his glass on the table as he began rounding it. You smiled, lifted your hand in a little wave and waited for him to find you. 

His progress was interrupted, though not halted, by his sister gliding into view and smiling brightly as she gently grasped your arms for a moment before pulling them away. The most hug she could ever give you with her aversion to physical touch. You had never once minded, you had grown up with Helaena just the way she was, gentle Helaena as you often called her. 

Though she couldn’t handle touch, she stood as close as possible without it and beamed at you, the most unabashed grin you had ever seen from her. 

Her cheeks were rosy and her beautiful hair was gathered into a beautiful braided knot at the back of her head. She wore a dress of green and silver, emphasising the pale silveriness of her skin, no doubt a mutated form of the gown her own mother was wearing. 

“I can’t believe you’re back!” She said in an excited little voice, husky and gentle. You resisted the urge to clasp her hands in yours and instead held tighter to your clutch. 

“Me neither, it's been a long time,” you sighed. You could see the touch of seriousness twinge Helaena’s face, but you looked over her shoulder and beckoned Aemond closer before she could voice it. 

“Hello Y/n,” his soft whispery voice had not changed since you’d been gone. “Finally returned?” 

You smiled at him, pulling him into a little side hug before threading your arm through his and pulling yourself tight to him. It felt familiar, homely. You had been forcing the poor boy into cuddles since your families had been connected. 

“Yes, Mr. Dragon,” a teasing but rare nickname that made his remaining eye twitch in annoyance. “Back for now.” 

“I’m your elder, you should show some respect,” he gritted out, trying to shake you off his arm halfheartedly. You simply clung on and pressed a quick teasing peck to his cheek. Though it was technically true that you were younger than him (though only just about), you had been at just the right age to gain all the siblings’ friendship rather than becoming a patronised younger hanger-on. 

Aemond huffed but stopped his attempts to detach himself from you. You had always been a little too loving for his tastes. 

Helaena leaned her elbows on the standing table the three of you had gravitated toward and gently began fiddling with the clasp of your clutch which you had thrown down at the first opportunity. Your eyes drifted to the crowd again, as if you were looking for someone, and Helaena cleared her throat. 

“Have you seen him yet?” She asked in that quiet halting way of hers. You snapped your eyes back to her, felt Aemond stiffen a little in your grip. You wanted to think of something witty and gently humorous to say but there was the hint of a lump in your throat so you just shook your head with a pathetic little smile. 

“Ah,” Aemond nodded and then pursed his lips, swallowing and then gazing down at the table. 

“I’m a little scared to,” you whispered, now fiddling with the other end of your clutch. 

“Because you broke his heart?” 

“Aemond!” Helaena exclaimed, glaring at him as you took the glass out of his hand and sipped from it. 

“Because I’m scared I regret it,” you blurted out, exhaling long and slow. Helaena smiled sympathetically and reached forward to awkwardly pat your hands twice. 

You could see Mrs. Targaryen over her daughter’s shoulder, making her way closer and then setting her eyes on you. She smiled that polite and reserved smile she always used, then pulled you into a gentle hug when she got to you. She issued you on the cheek then lightly grasped both your arms to look at you properly. 

“How are you, my dear? It has been far too long.” You smiled and nodded, brushing a piece of your hair from your face. 

“I’m alright, thank you, Mrs. Targaryen. Just trying to relax for a little while right now.” SHe nodded along to your words and smiled softly, the way she had once done when you were little and thanking her for letting you stay over for a sleepover with Helaena. 

“Congratulations on your graduation, dear. I’m so proud of you. I always knew you could achieve great things.” You felt the bashfulness burn under your skin and bowed your head in thanks. 

When you looked up, you caught sight of him in the distance behind her. He was talking to someone, one hand grasping a drink and the other safely tucked into his trouser pocket. His hair was a little shorter than before, slicked back so it only flicked up at the ends by his neck. You could see an earring, his constant, and an array of rings on his hand. You wondered if he still wore the one you got him all those years ago. He was smiling, chuckling at whatever the other person had said, and you felt something clench somewhere inside of you. 

He looked… clean, well put-together, comfortable in his skin. You hoped he felt that way. His eyes flicked towards you and you turned your attention back to Mrs. Targaryen, nodding and smiling as she filled you in on all the changes about the place before she ultimately found another person that needed to be met. 

“I’ll just go say hello to Daphne, but I’ll find you again soon, dear.” She kissed you on the cheek and paused just as she was about to leave. She looked you right in the eye and gave you the most sincere smile you had ever seen from her. “It;s very good to see you again.’ And then she was off once more. 

You turned back to the table with Helaena and Aemond and motioned for one of the waiters to come over. You grabbed a drink off his tray and instantly began taking quick little sips from it. The side of your face burned and you couldn’t tell if it was because he might be staring at you or because you were simply aware he was on that side of the room. 

Suddenly the sting became agitation and you knew you needed fresh air right at that moment or you would start blabbering whatever words popped into your head and you were not interested in handling that particular panic symptom. 

“I’m gonna go out for a smoke,” your voice was abrupt, curt, as you began reaching for your clutch and picking it up. 

“You don’t even smoke,” Helaena exclaimed quietly. 

“There’s always time to start,” you mumbled as you turned away and walked out of the room, heading back the way you had come only such a short time ago. 

The air was brisk, like cold palms being laid flat against your skin as you shivered on the doorstep. 

You could just leave now and go home. You had shown your face at the party, there was no need to stay. You also knew that if you left before dinner, Mrs. Targaryen would be annoyed beyond belief. And leaving without telling Helaena felt like a betrayal anyway. She would understand you needing air for however long you wanted but she would expect you back in at some point. 

For now, you could just shiver on the doorstep, gulping in the lungfuls of icy air and thinking deep philosophical thoughts. 

The door opened a moment later and you turned toward the sound. He was a silhouette in the golden backlight, like a sign from god. You just stared at him as he slowly came outside and shut the door behind him. Your arms wrapped tighter around yourself. 

He didn’t say a word, just continued looking at you as he lifted his arm and held it out to you, your coat proffered in his hand. You gently took it from him and he watched you slip it on. 

“Y/n,” he said your name so evenly, no emotion, no indication of his thoughts. You sort of hated that you could no longer tell what he was thinking. His voice had not changed, you thoguht, then scolded yourself because why would it have? 

“Aegon,” you whispered, chewing on your lip as you glanced toward him then away then back again. You could only accept him in small doses right now. 

“You’re back,” he responded, showing his hands into his pockets as he looked out onto the gravel drive then back to you. You could see his truck parked by the garage on the far side, near the hedges on the property line. It was just as garish and hold as it had always been. Just as full of memories. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip a little harder until it stung. 

“You didn’t say,” and he sounded almost offended, as if you hadn’t just ignored him for the past three years. 

“Should I have?” You mumbled, glancing back at him then away again. He was staring, unabashedly, at your face. 

“No,” he shook his head slowly, back and forth, then popped his lips. “Nope.”

In the silence that followed, you felt the pressure of the air on your brain. Your eyes stung and your throat clogged and you could do nothing but let the waves wash over you. You turned to him, stared at his blurry outline through the tears and felt your lips begin to shake with the sobs threatening at your throat and tongue. He was quick to pull you in, to wrap his arms around you and tuck your face in against his neck. 

He was so warm, as he had always been, but leaner now, less soft and more defined muscle. He smelt clean too, like fresh ocean-scented laundry detergent and cold cologne and his weird spicy shampoo. He clung to you tightly and gently hushed you and you wanted to hit him, to pummel him on the chest and slap him across the face. 

How dare he be so nice? How dare he comfort you when you deserved none of it? How dare he be so kind when all you had done was break his heart when he deserved the pain the least? You sobbed harshly against his shoulder, wrapped your arms around him and clung tightly. You could feel the damp fabric under your face. You only pressed closer until the sobs became quiet little blubbers and you could feel the drip of a tear against the back of your neck, the press of his pursed lips against your hair. 

You pulled away quickly, turned your back to him as you began hurriedly wiping at your cheeks and praying your waterproof mascara worked. You could hear him sniffing behind you, and you paused, closed your eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then whispered, 

“I’m sorry.” He waited for a beat. 

“For what?” 

“I-” you swallowed, turned back around, looked into the bright, shiny, achingly beautiful blue of his eyes, the little line of water balanced precariously behind his eyelid. “I don’t know. A lot of things.” Your voice was clogged and pain-filled and you swallowed again. 

“Let’s be specific then,” he breathed out, smiling the joking little smile when he was feeling sarcastic and teasing, but a sadder, waterier, version. 

“For leaving when I did, for not explaining properly and maturely, for not calling.” You paused. “For letting myself believe I didn’t love you that much. For thinking that leaving also had to mean leaving behind.” You brought your hand up and began chewing on the side of your finger. He was quick to bring your hand back down, a gentle press on the forearm to force your arm back to your side. You cleared your throat and wrapped your arms around yourself. You looked off into the distance, into the black night by hedges. 

“Helaen told me you got out of rehab last year.” You began chewing on your lip. He cleared his throat. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “one and a half years sober now.” 

“Congrats,” you whispered. “You look good, sobriety suits you.” You paused. Gulped. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. What does that even mean…” you glanced at his face and the smile he was trying so hard to repress, the mischievous glint in his eyes. A breathless laugh escaped you, a pitchy little giggle that was most likely insanely unattractive but made you feel freer, a little lighter. 

The sudden bursting wish that he would kiss you was blinding. And sobering. You cleared your throat and looked away again. 

“It’s ok,” he finally said in a sigh, strolling closer. “Well, I mean, as ok as getting your heart broken by the girl you thought you would marry can be.” You shot him a glare. 

“Don’t joke about this.” 

“Why not? I’m the one that got heartbroken if I remember correctly.” “Aegon.” 

“Alright, sorry,” he hugged, but the smile said he really wasn’t. You clenched your hands together. 

“I was wrong,” you finally blurted out. 

You hadn’t been expecting to do this tonight. You had sat in your bedroom a week after you had returned and thought about how you would get in contact with him. A text message perhaps, a letter passed through Helaena if you were feeling old school, something to let him know you wanted to talk. And then you would meet him at a coffee shop, or maybe at the park where you used to force him to take walks with you so he wouldn’t sit in his room thinking about all the drugs he could be doing. 

But then Mrs. Targaryen had bumped into your mother and you had been forced into attendance, and you suppose the unavoidable is as the name suggests… unavoidable. 

Aegon didn’t say a word. 

“I was wrong in so many ways that I actually don’t even know where to start now…” you shifted a little, fiddling with a coin you had left in your coat pocket.

You could almost see the argument play out in your mind’s eye like a movie. The university acceptance letter crumpled in your hand as you both stood in his room. You were looking at him apprehensively, at the darkness in his eyes as you told him how excited you were, how you had to start packing and booking flights and… You could hear him asking what would happen between you two, what would become of the beautiful budding little thing the two of you had cultivated in the midst of all the troubles of your lives. 

“I don’t know,” you had said hesitatingly, looking down at the paper in your hands. You were young and irrational then. Though you had only grown three years older since (a blip of time in the grand scheme of things), so much had changed since. 

You could remember the way you had said you were going, as if he had ever mentioned stopping you. How defensive you had gotten when there had been no attack. 

“What about us?” He had asked. “What about me?” And the stupid, angry, words you had said. How you weren’t going to let anything hold you back. Not even this. 

It had felt so right at the time, to tamp down the feelings you had for the chance at an exciting, independent life. Not knowing… Not knowing what he had been going through. Not knowing that he hid those dark, struggling, parts of himself from you so you would only ever see the sunny side of life. Not knowing that he was just sitting there and taking all that shit from you because he would do anything to make you happy. 

And you, spoilt and ignorant you, had just up and left and taken three years to realise that while you enjoyed your life away from home, it could only have been better with him still in it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about the drinking and the drugs? Why did you let me say all that shit to you?” You looked at him, feeling the tears burn again but ignoring them as you reached out and grasped his hand between yours, gently running your fingers across his own. 

“I don’t know,” he mumbled in return, bringing his other hand to do the same across the back of your hand. 

You supposed it didn’t matter. Both of you knew, even if he didn’t say it. And it didn’t really need to be said anyway. 

You moved even closer, gently cupping his cheek. He closed his eyes, nuzzled his face into your palm and took a shaky breath in, then out. You ran your thumb across his cheekbone, back and forth, feeling the barest hint of stubble come in. 

“Aegon,” you mumbled, pressing a little closer so that more of you touched him, so that more of you could nuzzle into his warmth. “I can’t promise that I’ll stay here,” you began hesitantly, “but if I leave again, will… will you come with me?” 

Aegon opened his eyes and looked at you. Deep into your eyes as if he could see to the very dark core of your soul. 

He could see the first time the two of you had kissed, awkward and gentle in the darkness of the Targaryen manor kitchen when you were getting water late at night during a sleepover with Helaena and he was sneaking back in from a party. 

He could see the text messages where he had shyly asked you out on a date despite already having kissed you. The quick response you had sent, eager and unafraid. 

He could see all the little dates between the highs and the drunken stupors. He could see the times you had sat in his room, studying at his desk while he lay on his bed, still a little buzzed, thinking about the next party or dwelling on the way his mother had yelled and called him a failure, compared him to you, only a few hours prior. 

He could see the years of silence. The news that you had packed and gone off to university, left him behind like he always knew you would. Your number, still in his phone, left untouched. Radio silence. 

He looked at you now, teary eyed and so pained, so apologetic. At your shiny and sparkly red dress. At your lips. 

He pitched forward and pressed his mouth firmly to yours. He kissed you like he was drinking water. He kissed you like he had not taken a breath in three years… and you were air.

[lousypotatoes]

Cheap Perfume

"It's like you're always there in the corner of my mind

I see a silhouette every time I close time I close my eyes

There must be poison in those fingertips of yours

'Cause I keep coming back for more~"

Troublemaker - Olly Murs, Flo Rida

Previous Next

Dear Mom and Dad, I'm doing fine

You guys are on my mind

You asked me what I wanted to be

And I think the answer is plain to see

I wanna be famous

I wanna live close to the sun

So pack your bags 'cause I've already won

Nothing to do, nothing in my way

I'll get there one day

Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous~

On one side of the mess hall, campers were happy and lively and talkative, enjoying their pathetic and gross excuse of a breakfast.

On the other side, the campers were miserable and tired, dark eyebags indenting themselves into their skulls.

Y/N was on the side with the horrible eyebags.

The last challenge left her awfully tired, her feeling like dying was better than what she and the other campers went through.

She felt kind of guilty, because if it wasn't for her, The Killer Bass would of won the challenge.

Nobody blamed her though, (except Courtney) understanding that if they were in that position, they would have also caved in.

Unfortunately, even after all those hours of staying awake, Y/N still didn't get any sleep, thanks to Harold's constant snoring the night before.

She could tell the rest of her team felt the same way.

Y/N and Duncan were the most miserable, them being the last two on the Killer Bass to stay awake.

Y/N's head was propped up on her hand, her eyes closed, trying to get some desperately needed sleep.

"Duncan, Y/N," Chris smirked. "You two look like death,"

"Eat shit," Y/N glared.

"Harold snored all night," Courtney groaned.

"Wow," Chris laughed. "Four nights with no sleep? How much are you guys hurting?"

"Wanna find out?" Duncan lashed out.

"Hey, no, it's cool," Chris backed up.

Suddenly, the mess hall door slammed opened, making everyone turn their attention to the door.

Everybody gasped when they saw Harold standing in the doorway. He had a drawn on mustache on him.

Everybody started to giggle as he walked to the Killer Bass table.

If Y/N wasn't on the brink of death, she probably would have joined in.

"Okay, what?" Harold asked, sitting down at the table.

"Someone messed with your face, dude," Geoff laughed.

Harold grabbed a spoon and looked at his reflection. "Hey, sweet 'stache,"

"Hey everyone, it's Gwen!" Chris called out.

The Screaming Gophers started to cheer as Gwen walked into the mess hall, looking like she was going to pass out any minute.

"I'm so tired, I can't feel my face," she said before her head slammed on the table.

~Confessionals~

"We are so stinking right now!" Courtney whined. "Okay, yes, Eva was a psycho, but at least she was an athletic psycho!"

--

"I want to go home," Y/N groaned.

"And miss out on hanging out with me?" Duncan smirked.

"Your the number one reason why I want to go home,"

"Hey fish heads!" Heather yelled from the other side of the room. "Way to kick out your strongest player! Why don't you just give up now?"

Courtney flung over some mushy oatmeal, but instead of landing on Heather, it landed on Gwen at the last second.

"Missed me," Heather smirked, making Courtney glare at her.

"Okay campers, listen up," Chris said. "Your next challenge begins in ten minutes. And be prepare to bring it!"

"If it's anything like the last challenge, I'm killing Chris," Bridgette mumbled.

"I'll help," Y/N replied.

All the campers made their way onto what looked like a gym in a regular high school surrounded by glass walls.

Even though she was tired as hell, she wanted The Killer Bass to contribute and try to help the Killer Bass win the challenge. Unlike Duncan, who as soon he got into the gym, he plopped himself on the bleachers.

"Wake me up, and it'll be the last thing you do," he announced before closing his eyes.

Tyler gulped, already scared of what he might do. Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing that it was just an empty threat.

"This is all your fault, you know!" Courtney yelled at Harold. "You and your snoring face!"

"It's called a medical condition, gosh!"

Chef Hatchet, dressed in a referee uniform, blew a whistle, signaling that it was time for the campers to pay attention.

"Today's challenge is the classic game of dodgeball," Chris explained. "The first rule of dodgeball is-"

"Do not talk about dodgeball?" Noah interrupted, making Y/N let out a tiny giggle.

"As I was saying," Chris continued. "If you get with the ball you're out."

Chris threw the ball as hard as he could to Y/N. She caught it but it knocked all the wind out of her, the force pushing her back a little.

"Jeez!" she gasped. "Give me a warning next time, asshole!"

She threw the ball back, hoping it would hit Chris in the head, but to her disappointment, he caught it.

"If you catch the ball, the thrower gets sent out and the catcher gets to bring in another team member out on the court,"

"Throwing balls, gee, another mentally challenging test," Noah remarked.

"I know right!" Lindsay frowned, making Y/N have to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"Okay, now, Geoff, try to hit me," Chris says, throwing a ball to Geoff, who catches it easily.

Chef tossed another ball to Chris. "If you're holding a ball, you can use it to deflect a ball. But if it knocks the ball out of your hands, you're out!" he says.

"So, what do I do again what the ball comes at me?" Lindsay asked.

"You dodge!"

Geoff throws his ball at Chris, who deflects it with the ball he's holding, causing Geoff's ball to bounce back and hit Lindsay right in the face.

Y/N cringed as the ball made contact with Lindsay's face.

"Ooo, you were supposed to dodge!" Chris winced.

"Ow...right,"

Y/N grimaced as Lindsay removed her hand from her forehead, revealing a large purple lump.

"You have one minute until game time," Chris says. "Gophers, you'll have to sit one person out each game."

"Oh boy," Y/N mumbled.

It was standoff between DJ, Katie, Y/N, Tyler, Harold, and Heather, Lindsay, Owen, Leshawna, and Cody.

They were all staring at the other team, glaring at each other with smirks on their faces.

~Confessionals~

"I'm not the best at dodgeball," Y/N said. "But I have a pretty good feeling about this challenge."

--

"Bring it on fishies," Heather bragged. "Otherwise winning three in a row just won't be as satisfying."

"Oh! You're going down!" Tyler cried. "We're gonna bring the dinner to the table and then we're gonna eat it!"

"You really need to work on your trash talk," Y/N whispered to him.

"Both teams ready?" Chris asked. "Best of five games wins. Now. Let's dodge some ball!"

Y/N deadpanned.

Chef blew his whistle, and Y/N, and everybody who was playing rushed for the balls, either teams cheering for their teammates.

The first one to throw a ball was Cody, the ball going in between Tyler and Harold's heads. Tyler snarled and Cody grinned sheepishly.

In a really dumb move, Tyler spun around and threw his ball, but instead of hitting anybody on the opposite side of the court, he hit Sadie, who was sitting on the bleachers.

"That'll smear the makeup," Chris grinned.

"Nice job," Courtney frowned from the bleachers.

"Now let's see if you can hit someone on their team!"

Owen ran forward, ball in hand. Tyler gaped in fear.

Owen ran right in front of the line before throwing the ball hard as he could at Tyler, hitting in right in the stomach and sending him flying into the glass.

"Ow! Damn it!" Tyler whined.

Chef blew the whistle, making the other team cheer.

Y/N sighed and went to go help Tyler up.

"Maybe next time you should try and dodge," she joked.

"Yeah, I know," Tyler mumbled before going to sit down on the bleachers, Sadie giving him a dirty look.

Chef blew the whistle again.

"Time to unleash my wicked skills," Harold said.

"Yeah?" Leshawna rose one eyebrow. "Then bring it string bean! Let's see what you got!"

Harold did a ninja pose, the ball balancing between his knee and his stomach. He then dropped it into his hand with one foot in the air. Then he leaped forward and slammed the ball into the ground.

It ricocheted upward before bouncing gently onto the other teams side.

Y/N rubbed the bridge of her nose, wishing she had just decided to sleep like Duncan did.

Leshawna picked up the ball unimpressed.

Harold ran away, screaming like a girl as Leshawn hit him in the head with the ball, causing the Screaming Gophers to cheer.

He skidded all the way on the floor until his face smashed against the glass, making Chris and Y/N wince.

Chef blew the whistle.

The score was now 5 v 3.

"And that's how we roll!" Leshawna boasted, high fiving Owen.

Wanting to get somebody on the other team out, Y/N reeled the ball back and threw it as hard as she could, not caring who it hit.

To her surprise, (and guilt) the ball hit Lindsay, causing a purple bruise to form on her cheek.

Lindsay sulked off and sat down on the bleachers.

Even though her team cheered for her, Y/N did feel bad, but decided she would apologize after the challenge.

Suddenly, Heather picked up a ball and threw it at Tyler, who wasn't even on the court.

"Mommy," he whimpered, holding his privates which had just been hit hard with the ball.

"What the fuck was that?" Y/N yelled. "He wasn't even on the court!"

"Oopsies! Slipped!" Heather grinned innocently.

"Ugh!" Y/N grunted, taking DJ's ball and hurling it towards Heather as hard as she could. Heather shielded her face with her arms, but Owen rushed forward and caught the ball.

That meant that Y/N was out.

Y/N scoffed and sat down on the bleachers next to Bridgette.

"At least you scored us a point," Bridgette said.

"I won't be happy till Heather gets out," Y/N grumbled.

Chef pointed at Gwen, signaling that it was her turn to get onto the court.

Owen threw a ball at DJ, but missed. DJ threw one towards Owen, but Owen ducked at the last minute, making the ball hit Gwen in the head right as she was walking on the court.

"Oh! Sorry!" DJ winced.

"Oh, it's cool, trust me," Gwen grinned.

It was now between DJ and Katie, and Leshawna and Cody.

The whistle blew. Katie and DJ both threw their balls at Leshawna, who deflected one with her ball, but got hit in the stomach with the other one.

Now it was just Cody that was left for The Screaming Gophers.

Y/N thought that her team was guaranteed the win for this round.

"Easy out, guys. Easy out," Courtney said.

Cody spun his ball and grinned. He threw the spinning ball at DJ, who dodged, but the ball managed to whip around and hit DJ in the butt.

"That is one tough ball to dodge!" Chris exclaimed.

Now it was just Katie left for the Killer Bass. She threw a ball at Cody, but he dodged. He picked up a ball and rubbed it rapidly against his shirt, creating static electricity, and then threw the ball.

Katie tried to run away, the Killer Bass (besides Duncan who was still asleep) could only watch with their mouths agape as the ball chased Katie around, eventually hitting her.

Chef blew his whistle, signaling that the round was over.

Y/N sighed as the other team cheered.

The next round was about to start. The Killer Bass were currently in a team huddle.

"We can do this!" Harold encouraged. "We just have to believe in ourselves!"

"Oh, I believe," Courtney said. "I believe you suck!"

"Yeah, you throw like a girl!" Tyler remarked.

"Oh, like you have any room to talk," Y/N said.

"It was a warm up throw," Tyler defended himself. "Look, I can dominate this game, just give all the balls to me."

Y/N had doubts, but everyone else was going along with it, so she decided to go along with it.

Chef Hatchet blew his whistle

"Fine," Courtney agreed. "Just try to aim for the other side, okay?"

Now it was Katie and Sadie, Tyler, DJ, and Geoff going against Owen, Lindsay, Beth, Trent, and Izzy.

Everyone on the Screaming Gophers was confused to see Tyler holding all the Killer Bass' balls.

Tyler started to spin around again, throwing the balls as he did.

One of the balls hit Chef in the stomach.

One goes towards Chris but he dodges ("Hey! Watch the face dude!")

One flew towards the Screaming Gopher bleachers, forcing the campers who were sitting there to jump away.

And the last one hit Lindsay in the face (again).

"Nooooo!" Tyler ran over to Lindsay.

"Finally!" Courtney said.

Lindsay was knocked out, but she awoke after a moment.

"Uhmm, hmm, Tyler?" she murmured. "Oh my gosh, my face. How's my face?"

She took her hand off her face, making Tyler jump.

"It's really...not that bad," he grinned, lying.

Y/N also jumped when she saw Lindsay's face. Along with bruises on both of her cheeks and her forehead, she also had a fucked up eye.

"You still look great,"

"Really?" Lindsay asked.

"Yeah, really," Tyler grinned.

"Aww, they're so cute," Y/N whispered to Bridgette. "I wish I had someone like that."

"You already do have someone like that," Bridgette mumbled.

"What'd you say?"

"Huh? Nothing,"

Trent walked over to where Lindsay and Tyler were standing. Since Tyler was on their side of the court, he threw the ball gently at Tyler's chest.

"You want to go for a walk?" Tyler asked, not caring that he just got out.

"Okay!" Lindsay eagerly said.

"Hey! Hey get back here!" Heather called out to Lindsay, who wasn't listening. "You are so close to being out of the alliance!"

"Great Gatsby, that is it!" Owen yelled. "Game on!"

He got Katie and Sadie out using one ball, then hit DJ in the shoulder, and then hit hit Geoff square in the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Ow! That one's worth an instant replay!" Chris winced before smiling.

"Ooh! He dropped it like it was hot!" Leshawna grinned.

'What does that even mean?' Y/N deadpanned.

Y/N got off the bleachers and started helping people off the floor.

"Thanks, Y/N," DJ grinned, as Y/N helped him up.

"No problem," she smiled.

Everyone on the Killer Bass began to huddle up (besides Duncan, of course).

"Hey, it's 2-0!" Heather called out to the Bass. "How does it feel to suck so much?"

Y/N opened her mouth to speak but got interrupted by Harold.

"Not very good," he sighed.

"It's not over yet," Courtney huffed, not looking so sure of herself.

"It's so over," Y/N groaned.

Y/N sat on the bleachers, hunched next to Bridgette.

She didn't remember dodgeball being this hard and brutal.

"Okay, this is really bad," Courtney spoke up. "One more game and we lose the whole challenge, again! We can't let that happen people. We need someone strong, someone mean, someone who will crush those stupid gophers into the dirt!"

Everyone's eyes immediately went to the sleeping Duncan.

"Uh-uh, if we wake him up, he'll kill us," DJ said.

"He won't kill us," Y/N scoffed. "It was just an empty threat. Besides he wants to win too."

"Y/N's right," Harold agreed. "We need Duncan's fierceness to win this!"

"That's the spirit, Harold!" Courtney smiled. "Now go wake him up!"

"Why me?" Harold asked.

"Because, other than Trent, you're the worst at dodgeball. And if he does kill you, you're the only one we can afford to lose," Courtney explained.

"No way! I'm doing it!" Harold said. "Why can't Y/N do it?"

"What? Why me?" Y/N asked.

"'Cause you're the only one here he actually likes," Harold crossed his arms.

"Doesn't mean he won't kill me!" Y/N hissed.

"I thought you said it was just an empty threat?" Bridgette smirked.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"If you don't wake him up, I will," Courtney snapped.

"Oh my gosh, fine!" Y/N gave in. "But if I die, all of you are paying for my funeral."

Y/N very slowly inched herself towards Duncan, who was laying down on the bleachers.

She very lightly tapped on Duncan's shoulder.

"Duncan," she whispered. "Wake up."

When that didn't work, she started tapping him harder.

She started tapping him harder and harder, getting frustrated when she wasn't getting any response.

"Oh my, gosh," she grumbled, bending down to speak in his ear.

"Wake the fuck up, Duncan!"

Before she could even react, Duncan woke up, sat up, and grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her closer to his face.

Unbeknownst to Duncan, he didn't know that it was Y/N waking him up, he thought it was one of his other teammates like Harold or DJ.

So imagine his surprise when he opened his eyes, and saw Y/N, her E/C eyes wide, and a light blush on her face.

The snarl that was on Duncan's face instantly disappeared, instead being replaced by a surprised look on his face, blush also appearing on his cheeks.

Had Y/N eyes always been that bright?

Had her H/C hair always looked that soft?

Had she always been that pretty?

Suddenly, the moment was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Y/N looked over and saw that the the whole entire team was staring at her. Some were giggling, some of them had smirks, Like Bridgette, and one person was scowling.

You could probably guess who that was.

"Yeah, uh," Duncan stuttered, letting go of Y/N's wrist. "Sorry about that,"

"No worries," Y/N muttered, her face red.

"But you better have a really good reason for yelling in my ear," Duncan said.

Courtney very rudely shoved Y/N out of the way.

~Confessionals~

"Courtney is literally so fucking rude," Y/N frowned. "Seriously, I don't know what her problem is."

--

"Look, we are down two nothing," Courtney said, ignoring the fact that she just shoved Y/N. "I can appreciate that you need a little nap time, but we need your help."

"Oh, and why should I help you, darling?" Duncan smirked.

"Because, I can personally guarantee that if we lose this game, you'll be the one going home, darling," Courtney glared.

Duncan sighed. "Fine, I'll play. On one condition, you do what I say, when I say it,"

Courtney and Y/N both nodded.

"Okay, here's a strategy I picked up during my first visit to juvie," Duncan explained.

"It's called Rush the New Guy."

The Killer Bass easily won the next round using Duncan's technique. Y/N cheered the whole time from the bleachers, deciding she wasn't going to play that round, but she would play the next round.

The Killer Bass was now in a huddle.

"I think we should do the same thing all over again," Courtney said. "So Harold, sit this one out too."

"But I sat the last one out," Harold complained.

"It's for the good of the team," Courtney reasoned.

Y/N sat back down on the bleachers, waiting for the next round to start.

"Hey uh," Duncan said, sitting down next to her. "Sorry about what I did earlier."

"I already told you it's fine," Y/N said. "Sorry that I woke you up, the team made me do it."

"It's whatever," Duncan shrugged.

"You did good out there," Y/N smiled. "For someone who spends most of their teen years in juvie."

"I'm just naturally good at everything," Duncan smirked.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Y/N laughed, heading onto the court for the next round.

~Confessionals~

"She is so into me," Duncan smirked into the camera.

--

~Confessionals~

"Pshh, in his dreams," Y/N giggled, a tiny hint of blush on her cheeks.

The next round was between Y/N, Duncan, Bridgette, DJ,and Geoff, and Izzy, Trent, Leshawna, Justin, and Beth.

The Killer Bass dominated that round, getting everybody on the opposite team out in only five minutes.

Y/N high fived Bridgette and Geoff as they cheered for another win.

"Okay, this is it," Chris announced. "The final tie breaking game!"

The Killer Bass huddled up, discussing what they were going to do for the final round.

"Okay, who's going in?" Duncan asked.

"I think it's my turn," Harold said.

"No way!" Courtney said. "We actually have a chance to win this!"

Harold sadly nodded and sat down on the bleachers.

The Killer Bass weren't doing as good as they were before. They were getting some of the other team out, but not as well as they were doing before.

Luckily, Y/N had managed to stay on the court the whole time, crying out in happiness when she managed to get Heather out.

She had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing when she saw Courtney get in the face by Gwen.

"That's for the oatmeal," Gwen grinned.

Leshawna laughed. "Oh, you messed with the wrong white girl!"

Y/N got distracted though, and got hit in the stomach by Owen, knocking her back into the glass.

"What is with people hitting me in the stomach!" Y/N gasped.

It was now between Harold and Owen.

The Screaming Gophers started to cheer, already knowing that Owen would kick Harold's ass.

Y/N felt the same way, but she wasn't going to tell anyone that.

"Sorry dude, but you've got to go down," Owen smirked.

"Goodnight, Harold," Duncan mumbled.

Owen started throwing throwing all the balls he had at Harold, but to everyone's surprise, Harold was dodging the balls very gracefully and very elegantly.

In Y/N's eyes, Harold looked absolutely fabulous.

"Time out, time out!" Courtney said to Chef, who then blew his whistle.

"Man, that boy's got dodge!" Duncan said while Harold sat down on the bleachers. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Figure skating," Harold answered, spitting some water that Bridgette gave him into Tyler's face.

"Harold, that was awesome!" Geoff said. "But dodging isn't enough."

"Geoff is right," Y/N said. "To win this, you either have to throw them out-"

"Which we all know you can't do," Duncan interrupted.

"Or catch the ball," Y/N finished. "Think you can do it?"

"Defintley!" Harold grinned.

"Awesome!" DJ exclaimed, slapping Harold's back. "Now go catch that ball!"

Harold walked onto the court, having a stare down with Owen.

Both of the teams started cheering.

"Harold! Harold! Harold! Harold!" the Killer Bass chanted.

"Cowabunga!" Owen shouted. He winded up his arm and threw the ball.

Holding her breath, Y/N clutched onto Duncan's arm as she watched the ball make contact with Harold, sending him flying into the glass.

"Come on, Harold," Y/N and Duncan muttered.

The biggest grin appeared on Y/N's face when she saw Harold hold the ball up, both of his hands clasping it.

Chef Hatchet blew his whistle, signaling that the game was over.

"The Killer Bass win!" Chris cheered.

The Killer Bass started cheering as loud as they could.

Y/N started jumping up and down, cheering the loudest.

Duncan was also cheering very loudly, whooping and hollering.

The two of them got so caught up in the excitement that they turned to hug each other.

Just as they were about to wrap their arms around each other, they both stopped, realizing how awkward it was since their faces were so close to each other not that long ago.

Instead of hugging each other, they gave each other an awkward fist bump instead, sheepish smiles and light blush on both of their faces.

Y/N looked over and saw Bridgette wiggling her eyebrows at Y/N, making her roll her eyes.

DJ and Duncan picked up Harold and put him on their shoulders, the Killer Bass crowding around them as they walked out of the gym.

"Nice job, skater nerd," Duncan grinned.

"You are literally my new favorite person," Y/N smiled.

~Confessionals~

"I guess I'm kind of a role model now that I won the dodgeball competition," Harold said, eating potato chips. "People will probably all want my autograph when the show is over and stuff."

--

Y/N relaxed on the stairs of the cabin porch, glad that she didn't have to worry about getting voted out that night.

As she counted the stars in the night sky, she started to think about that moment that she had with Duncan during the challenge.

She knew that Duncan didn't mean to grab her wrist like that, that's why he apologized.

But she couldn't help but think about how he started to blush as soon that he realized that it was Y/N. And the fact that it looked like he was taking in every detail of her face.

No, it wasn't that.

Surely it wasn't.

He was only blushing because that moment must have looked super embarrassing to the rest of the team.

Yeah, that's totally the reason.

"Whatcha thinking about?" said a voice that made Y/N jump. "I bet it's about me."

Of course the voice came from Duncan. And yes, Y/N was currently thinking about him.

But Duncan didn't need to know that.

"Don't scare me like that, asshole!" Y/N snapped, smacking Duncan's arm as he sat down next to her.

"My bad, didn't know that you were such a baby," Duncan laughed.

"I hope you drown in the lake," Y/N joked.

"Oh, you say the sweetest things, Y/N," Duncan purred. "You kicked ass today."

"You only saw me play two games," Y/N giggled.

"You still kicked ass none the less,"

"Oh, that means the world coming from you,"

"Don't get used to it, you're annoying as fuck most of the time,"

Y/N scoffed. "Like you have any room to talk,"

"Hey, people love me," Duncan defended. "Especially the ladies."

He then winked very cheesily.

"Oh yeah, I bet," Y/N rolled her eyes. "And by ladies, did you mean your grandma?"

Duncan choked on his spit, making Y/N roar with laughter.

"Okay, I'm heading off to bed," Y/N said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Thanks for the good laugh, I needed that."

"Anything to help a pretty girl like you, sweetheart," Duncan smirked.

"Uh huh," Y/N said, getting up and heading into the cabin. "Goodnight Duncan, I'll see you in the morning."

Y/N walked into the cabin, she could hear Duncan mutter behind her, but she was too tired to try and figure out what he said.

"Goodnight gorgeous,"

duncan is officially down bad for you

you guys are so lucky

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[lev1hei1chou]

Monopoly

Gojo x reader ft. Nanami, Yuji and Megumi Genre: Fluff Words: 575 Synopsis: Gojo and the gang play monopoly Masterlist

It was a cozy evening at your and Gojo's apartment, and you had invited Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori, and Kento Nanami for a casual game night. Little did you know that when Monopoly came out, chaos was about to unfold.

The game board was set up on the coffee table, money neatly stacked, and everyone promptly took their places around the board. Satoru, ever the enthusiastic one, couldn't contain his excitement.

"All right, you guys! Let the games begin!" Gojo announced with a dramatic flair, his vibrant eyes gleaming.

Nanami, as always, was calm and collected, his stern expression hinting at the seriousness he would bring to this seemingly innocent game. Megumi and Yuji were ready for the challenge, though it seemed that Yuji's eagerness might lead him into trouble.

The first rule was established by Gojo, of course. "Whoever rolls the highest gets to be my partner. And trust me, you want to be my partner."

Nanami raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. You rolled the dice first, and miraculously, you got a six. Gojo rolled next, and to everyone's disbelief, he also got a six.

"Looks like it's destiny, babe," Gojo winked, earning an eye-roll from Nanami.

As the game progressed, Gojo began introducing the most absurd rules. "If you land on my property, you owe me a massage. And if I land on yours, I get one. It's only fair, right?"

Nanami, having none of it, deadpanned, "We're here to play Monopoly, not engage in questionable transactions."

Meanwhile, Yuji was oblivious to Gojo's schemes, already planning how to spend his virtual millions. Gojo, seeing the opportunity, tried to convince Yuji to trade his prime properties for a mere railroad.

"Come on, Yuji, it's a special edition, super-fast, interdimensional railroad! Beats those boring streets any day!"

"Really?" the younger boy asked as if he believed Gojo's words.

Thankfully, Nanami and you intervened, saving Yuji from a potentially disastrous deal. Nanami sighed, "Stick to the rules, Itadori. Don't let him fool you."

But Gojo wasn't discouraged. He continued trying to implement new rules like "reverse rent," where the one landing on the property received money instead. His antics had everyone in splits, except for Nanami, who maintained his stoic demeanor.

As the game progressed, the tension rose. Gojo's fortune was fluctuating, and Nanami strategically acquired a Monopoly. Megumi silently amassed a small fortune, while Yuji struggled to understand the intricacies of trading.

At one point, Gojo suggested a rule that made everyone contribute money to a community chest for a group spa day. Nanami, unamused, said, "We're not here for spa days, Gojo. Let's focus on the game."

As the game neared its end, Megumi emerged as the silent powerhouse. He strategically bankrupted Gojo, acquired valuable properties, and built hotels with a poker face that rivaled Nanami's. Gojo, undeterred, proposed a last-minute rule change, but Nanami put his foot down.

"We're playing by the rules, Gojo. Accept your defeat gracefully."

In the end, it was Megumi who emerged victorious, much to everyone's surprise. Gojo, ever the sore loser, pouted for a moment before flashing a grin.

"Alright, alright, you win this time, Megumi. But next time, I'm bringing my own set of rules!"

Despite the absurdity and occasional frustration, the game night ended with laughter and camaraderie. As everyone bid their farewells, Gojo couldn't resist teasing one last time.

"Next time, we're playing strip Monopoly!"

Nanami sighed, "I think I'll pass on that one."

[buckysgrace]

Ten

Illicit Affairs Masterlist

Professor Steve Harrington x fem!OC

CW: Fem receiving oral sex

Daphne tries to ignore Steve, only to have her grades drop worse than before.

Steve had noticed a difference in Daphne the next few days. She wasn’t as eager to hold eye contact with him, or to teasingly drop her items and slowly pick them up. She didn’t contribute to the lectures anymore, nor did she attend the meeting times that they had set aside specifically for her. It was odd.

Above that it made him feel guilty for multiple reasons all around. He didn’t want her to think that he was punishing her by any means, but he thought it was best for them to keep their distance. Even if he had been forward on Valentine’s Day. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. He didn’t want to lose his job, or for her to be pressured into anything. But he also didn’t want her to think that he meant she couldn’t come to him for help. 

“Hey,” He stopped Daphne before she could leave, eyebrows raised at the frantic way she seemed to be walking, “If you don’t want your tutoring time anymore, I’m going to have to give it to someone else.” He reminded her, knowing that he couldn’t keep holding it. He did have other people that wanted to meet with him, not just her. 

“Okay.” She pressed her lips together, darting her eyes back and forth as she gripped the straps of her backpack tightly. He cocked his eyebrows at her response. 

“Uh,” He looked at her, slightly taken aback, “Are you alright?” He leaned against the desk, watching the way she rocked back and forth from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes.

“I just decided to use the student centers,” She said with a nod of her head, “They’re very helpful.” She shrugged her shoulders, leaving him bewildered. He didn’t mean to push her away entirely. But maybe he had been a little cold. 

“Oh,” He parted his lips in confusion, shaking his head, “I didn’t realize they could give you more help than the one who created the class.” He added as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching her demeanor crumble.

“I just think-,” She paused as she glanced around, “I’m trying to be respectful of your wishes.” She nodded her head stiffly but still avoided his eyes.

“By letting your grade drop?” He chuckled softly, “I don’t understand.” He told her honestly, watching the deep way she sighed. She looked behind her, ensuring everyone was gone before she spoke up.

“You haven’t said anything since Valentines.” She spoke up at last, taking a deep breath as he chewed on his bottom lip. He had thought about a lot of things, but he couldn’t contact her. And she hadn’t shown up to any of their scheduled meetings.

“I had fun,” He told her seriously, “I just don’t want to confuse you.” He had felt very guilty over the whole ordeal, feeling like he had indeed led her on. And he didn’t want her to think that. He liked being around her, things were just complicated right now. 

“You’re not confusing me,” She said as she shook her head, “And I like fun.” She watched him, features relaxing as her eyes glimmered with mischief. 

“Not like that.” He said with a small laugh, glad when she laughed along with him. At least there were no hard feelings, not anymore at least. 

“But can we be friends?” She questioned as she took a step forward, raising her soft eyebrows. He thought about the guy she had been laughing with that night as a strong wave of jealousy filled his lungs. 

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate either.” He replied instead, not wanting to admit that he would be bitter to see her with anyone else. He couldn’t linger on those thoughts, however. It wasn’t right. 

“I just think-,” She started slowly as she dragged her finger across the table, walking towards him, “That you’re overthinking this too much.” Her tone was sultry, a little raspy as she spoke. His heart hammered roughly in his chest. 

“I don’t think so.” He forced himself to remember the email, remembering the other professor that had been caught. He didn’t want to lose his job. He liked what he did. 

“We can just hang out like we did on Valentine’s, no feelings or sex. Just hanging out.” She reasoned as she wrinkled her nose up, shrugging her shoulders a bit. 

“Will you stop letting your grades drop?” He asked instead, cocking his eyebrows as he looked at her expectantly. If she was acting out, it wasn’t the best way to do it. But it had caught his attention. 

“Yeah,” She replied as she pressed her lips together, “I guess I need the help.”  She smiled sheepishly, rocking back and forth on her feet. 

“Are you coming tomorrow?” He asked, feeling a little lighter about the situation. He wasn’t excited, certainly not. He couldn’t be. 

“Do you want me to?” She played with him instead, fluttering her eyelashes in a manner that drove him crazy. He didn’t think she should be so pretty. 

“Your last paper was a bit better,” He shrugged his shoulders softly, “You could pass with a high C.” He remarked back, doing his best to be professional. She sighed playfully. 

“Not very reassuring,” She chewed on her bottom lip, “Okay. I’ll be there.” Her smile was brighter, happier as she looked at him. He inhaled deeply, wishing his insides didn’t twist and turn. Like he was a middle schooler with a crush. 

He was fucked.

-

“You like maps.” She stated as she held her hands on her hips, looking at the pictures on his walls. As soon as she had entered his office she had dropped her bag and began to snoop, rather than pull her assignment out for him to examine.

“I think it’s a cool souvenir to take,” He grinned as he shifted his glasses over his nose, looking at the one in front of them, “That was from Italy.” He pointed out, fully realizing it was dorky. But he liked being able to remember where he had visited. 

“I hear Italy is very nice,” She grinned as she turned towards him, her smile radiant, “I’ve never been out of the country.” She replied a second later, looking thoughtfully as she moved onto the next few pictures. 

“Yeah?” He asked, trying not to savor her dreamy state. It had been a long time since he’d had a real conversation with someone he was interested in. 

“This is the furthest I’ve been from home,” She admitted as she turned towards him again, “I think my parents were stunned I wanted to leave in the first place.” He watched her with interest, wondering how her parents reacted when she left. Especially since she was the youngest. He didn’t know them, but felt bad for them in a way. It must’ve been hard to support both of their children through such an awkward breakup. 

“Why’s that?” He asked curiously, knowing that they probably had money to do it. His parents always took him up on vacations, even tried to make him go now. But things between them were tense. 

“They need free labor for the ranch,” She laughed, “They’re very intense about it.” She turned towards him briefly, smiling before she looked back at the walls. He thought about that for a moment, glad that his parents didn’t make him do that. Or maybe it would’ve been good for him. 

“They wanted you to be a nurse, right?” He asked, getting an idea that they might be a little hard on her. He could relate to that.

“Yeah.” She breathed out deeply, blue eyes still scanning over the marks on the map. This one was from Thailand. That had felt like a lifetime ago. 

“How come you decided not to do it?” He asked her seriously, trying to pry more information from her. She bit her bottom lip. 

“Not my dream.” She said at last, turning towards him with a hint of sadness in her features. He frowned at that, but figured she was still young. She could figure things out. 

“What is your dream?” He asked softly, trying to ignore the way his body automatically crept closer to her. He liked how she smelled like honeysuckle still, like she had been sitting outside in the sun. 

“You ask a lot of questions.” She replied teasingly, moving her hands onto her hips as she tilted her head. She was avoiding his question, which was fair enough. They weren’t that close. Not yet. 

“You’re interesting,” He said honestly, smiling at the way her cheeks burned, “Do you have your paper?” He asked a brief moment later, heart hammering at how close she was. She drifted her eyes away from his, lingering at his mouth for a moment before she turned. 

“Mhm.” She nodded along, walking back to her bag as she bent over to open it up. His eyes lingered against her slender legs, taking in the gap between her thighs as he watched the way her skirt slid over her stockings. It was short. Everything she owned seemed to be too short. 

“Do you have real clothes?” The question rolled off of his tongue before he could stop it, making his eyes widen and his cheeks prickle as the humiliation settled over him. 

“Excuse me?” She stood up quickly, holding her paper to her chest as she looked at him in disbelief. She looked offended for a second as he tried to quickly recover. He didn’t mean it in a bad way. Not intentionally. 

“I mean,” He stammered for a moment, “Everything you wear makes it look like you’re freezing.” He said instead as he gestured towards her, internally sighing at the way her features softened again. 

“Oh,” She nodded her head along slowly before a grin cracked on her lips, “Haven’t you heard that a hoe never gets cold?” She replied as she rested her hands on her tiny hips, giving her head a little shake so her hair ended up behind her shoulders. 

“No, I can say with full honesty that I’ve never heard that before.” He said with a little laugh, feeling a lot older than he felt. He didn’t understand half of what she said sometimes. Maybe he wasn’t cool anymore. 

“Well,” She paused before she laughed, “It’s somewhat true.” She shrugged her shoulders softly, dropping the paper onto his desk. 

“You never get cold?” He asked her seriously, trying to understand how she didn’t end up with frozen limbs. 

“I act like I don’t get cold,” She corrected him, “I like looking cute.” She nodded her head as he bit his tongue. He was fairly certain she could look cute with layers on, but he wasn’t going to nitpick her. She did look cute. 

“I see,” He chuckled, “Alright. Let me take a look at this.” He mumbled as he sat down, scooting close to his desk. He scanned over the first few lines, deciding that it was much better than the first few that she had given him. She had been practicing. 

“Is it alright?” She asked a few minutes later, sitting close as she observed the marks on her paper. He chewed on his bottom lip as he passed it back to her, feeling like she could tidy it up in no time.

“Really good,” He praised her, eyes scanning the light freckles across her nose. He hadn’t noticed them before. He wondered if she got more when she was out in the sun, or if she tanned, “You’re doing a great job.”

“Thanks,” She whispered softly, plump lips pulling into a flirty smile, “I have the best teacher.” She hummed gently as he traced the colors in her eyes. The blue was stunning, like sparkling gems. He swore he saw a hint of gray, maybe even green in them. 

The gap between them was electric, fizzling with tension as his eyes drifted down towards her lips. They were full and plump, soft looking. He felt everything that he had said before slowly disappearing, melting away from the heat that came from their bodies. 

He gripped the back of her neck, fingers pressing into her skin gently. So softly. His nose brushed against hers, warming his skin as he held her in place.His lips touched hers gently, sending sparks through his body as he dragged their lips together. He could taste the vanilla on her lips, the hint of mint on her tongue as he licked and sucked on her soft skin.

He groaned as the kiss grew deeper, her moans spurring on his movements as he pulled her closer to him. He felt his dick throbbing against her thigh, her warmth becoming electric as he brushed his thumbs across her strong jawline. 

Her tongue fell against his, crashing and molding in a messy mixture as he drooled into his mouth. He hadn’t felt so heated from a kiss before, felt so desperate and filled with want. His hands fell slowly against her soft body, skin burning as he gripped her hips tightly. 

“Professor,” She whispered against his mouth, making him groan as he thought about how much trouble he’d be in if someone walked in. It only spurred him on at the moment, all sense of guilt gone as he trailed his lips across her neck, “Feels good.”

“You’re so addicting,” He groaned against her lips, dragging his mouth against hers to muffle any sounds that left her lips, “I can’t help myself.” He huffed softly, closing his eyes as he pushed her back towards his desk.

He pushed everything aside, knocking it to the floor with a loud clatter before he lifted her petite frame onto the desk. He licked at her full lips, his tongue brushing against hers messily before he fell to his knees. 

He lifted her skirt up over her thighs, inhaling harshly as he flicked his tongue out against her soft thigh. She crooned, blue eyes widening as he tugged her panties aside. He admired her pretty pussy for a second, taking in her smooth skin and pink folds as he spread her apart to see her better.

“S’pretty,” He praised, enjoying the way she wiggled underneath his touch as he pressed a gentle kiss above her clit, “Smell so nice too.” He hummed, dragging his tongue out slowly to tease the taste of her against his mouth.

He groaned as he moved his hands to her thighs, digging his fingertips into her skin as he pushed her knees towards her chest. He lapped away her sweet wetness, curling the tip of his tongue around her swollen clit. 

Her moans sounded heavenly against his ears, making his cock ache as he wrapped his lips around her clit. He sucked softly, kissing her cunt messily before he slid his tongue through her folds again. He craved the taste of her, desperately needing to feel her squirming against his mouth. 

“Steve,” She moaned as she rolled her hips forward, gasping loudly as her fingers fell to his hair. He groaned, enjoying the way she tugged on his hair as he continued to suck on her pretty clit. The way she dragged her cunt along his mouth was intoxicating, making him want to devour her completely, “Jesus!” She squeaked out, whining as she rutted her hips up against his mouth.

He dragged two fingers to her slick hole, groaning at the way she leaked around him before he slid two fingers inside of her. The feeling of her wet walls stretching around him left his mind hazy, nearly desperate to press his own cock inside of her. But that was going too far. 

He pumped his fingers inside of her deeply, pressing them against her spongy walls as he worked on flicking his tongue against her clit. He glanced up at her, taking in her reddened cheeks and parted lips as she cried out once again. 

Then he shut his eyes, pretending like they weren’t here and this wasn’t incredibly wrong of him. He lapped at her cunt, groaning at the tight feel of his own pants as he curled his fingers deeper inside of her. She spasmed, her moans muffled from covering her mouth as she came undone underneath him.

He steadily drew his movements to a stop, but continued to lick away her slick juices. Then his fingers once he removed them. He liked the taste of her on his mouth and wished he had enjoyed it more the only time he’d had her. 

“That was nice,” She gasped, chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath. He hummed in agreement, trying to keep the rush of guilt at bay as he slowly pressed her panties and skirt back into position, “Do you have water or anything?”

“You alright?” He asked as he adjusted himself in his pants, knowing he’d be thinking about her as soon as she left. He couldn’t let it get too far though. He didn’t want to regret this.

He moved towards his mini fridge, quickly pulling free a water bottle before he passed it to her. Her whole face was flushed as she began to unscrew the lid. 

“Just never um-,” She paused for a second to take a few large drinks from the bottle, “Had someone do that before. Get me off like that.” She replied bashfully, making his eyebrows raise.

“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He asked, looking for clarity because he wasn’t sure how it could be true. Anyone would be lucky to have her and he certainly wouldn’t give up the chance to have her on his tongue if he had any say in it. 

“No one’s ever made me orgasm from it,” She replied, face only getting brighter as another awkward smile formed on her lips, “Like ever.” She said again, taking another gulp from the water bottle as he watched in amusement.

“I’m honored.” He teased, not sure what else to say as he felt his cock throbbing harder in his jeans. He was thinking about doing it again, if she’d let him. 

“It’s dangerous knowing that you can do it.” She breathed out seriously, stealing his thoughts from his mind. His lips curled into a smirk, all of his rationality falling through the window.

“Maybe we can work something out.” He offered, not allowing himself to think about the worst case scenario. He could worry about that later. This seemed more important. 

“We can be friends,” She decided for them, lips pressing together smugly, “And a little more.” She added slyly, making him quick to agree with her. He had never been smart when it came to relationships anyways, but he supposed this would be fine. Hopefully. 

[casualaruanienjoyer]

How the AOT characters contribute to a surprise birthday party

Hello! Thank you for sending this!!

It's YOUR birthday, how do these Aot characters contribute to a surprise party for you?

Armin: he's the one tasked with distracting you. Has to try his ABSOLUTE best to make sure that you have no idea they are planning anything for your bday. You have your doubts, but this man sure is good at distracting you. You somehow end up going shopping with him and Armin seems to want to buy EVERYTHING today.

Jean: he's telling everyone what to do. Keeping everything in check. He wants this to be perfect for you, but it's chaos and nothing goes as expected. He almost has a complete mental breakdown but remembers that you will appreciate it either way.

Annie, Falco and Gabi. Annie's the person tasked with blowing up all the balloons. She might be small but she has some seriously strong lungs. Falco and Gabi fashion different silly looking animals out of the balloons, and even draw faces on some.

Mikasa and Pieck: these girls are working hard to make sure the cake ends up absolutely amazing. They try their best, with Mikasa being the one to assemble it and Pieck decorating it with her dexterous hands. The cake ends up being super delicious, the highlight of the night!

Connie and Sasha: to keep Sasha away from the cake, they decide to go shopping. They are the ones to grab all the supplies needed such as party hats, confetti, balloons, candles. None of them are right and you end up blowing a candle that says 5, holding ballons that say "Congrats on your graduation" and eating from Shrek themed plates. But it sure is fucking hilarious.

Hange and Levi: they are the ones to put up all the decorations. Hange reaches up to hang flags, lights and a massive HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA banner (again, Connie and Sasha's doing) while Levi sets the table. No cutlery is out of place. He makes sure of it.

Reiner: he's the one to wrap everyone's presents. He's pretty good with his hands and surprisingly dexterous when it comes to folding paper and making bows. All your presents are wrapped super neatly!

Eren: he was tasked with taking photos and videos of everything, but instead he ends up recording his face for 25 minutes. Everyone finds it hilarious.

Zeke and Yelena: they show up at the supermarked dressed as robbers, and they kidnap both you and Armin. It's all staged, but you're still kinda scared. They end up dropping you back to your home and you watch their car disappear into the sunset. At least you and Armin made it back safely.

Onyankopon: this man can SING and so he does! The moment you open the door, he gives the tone and everyone follows, wishing you a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

So the thing is, I have your writing tag filtered cos I like to wait until you post to AO3 so I can get the full experience, but I have terrible self control so I keep clicking through anyway to see what new things you’re working on 😂😂

But! In the spirit of helping contribute towards you finishing things so that I can be lucky enough to enjoy them, here are some emojis for the ones I’ve been least able to resist and that I’m most excited for!

🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🤏🤏🤏🤏🤏🔬🔬🔬🔬🔬🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

And then free pick for whatever one YOU are most excited for!

🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁

Ahhh well thank you! That made me smile. You are so kind!

15 for 🪽:

---

“I’ve never had sex with a man!” Eddie insists. 

He realizes he sounds almost offended. Like it’s not a good insinuation. But it’s a neutral insinuation. It doesn’t mean anything. Eddie isn’t homophobic. He’s never felt uncomfortable with Hen. When Ravi told them he’s dated men and women, Eddie didn’t think anything of it. So, why does it bother him now?

Buck raises his hands in surrender. 

“Chill, man. You brought this up.”

He did. That’s true.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles.

---

15 for 🤏:

---

My dad isn’t bad.”

Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand a bit tighter.

“You don’t think so?” The kid asks sheepishly. 

“I know,” Chris answers. “I know it.”

“You don’t think that…” The child trails off.

“What?” Chris asks. 

“You don’t think it would be better for you without me?” 

Eddie lurches forward, panicked. He can’t ask Chris that. He can’t put that on Chris. 

Buck catches Eddie’s arm.

---

15 for 🔬:

---

Seeing as they are close family, they are noticeably late. 

Chris can’t help but watch his parents as they arrive. Buck is stuck to Dad like glue. Usually, Chris would dismiss this as them being gross and in love, but that doesn’t seem to be the case today. He looks tense. He keeps his jaw sort of tight and a hand on Dad’s back. It gives the impression of a man walking down the street with a Doberman Pinscher in a big spiked collar. Don’t get too close to Dad or his dog will bite. 

This is weird for Buck. Buck is so friendly. So social. He likes almost everyone he meets. When Tia Adriana comes to visit, Buck and her get along like old friends. So… So this must be for a reason. 

Chris watches their interactions. 

---

15 for 🍎:

---

Buck is trying to do something as simple as make himself a tea. But filling the kettle with water and setting it on the element to boil is a heavy enough weight to cause him pain. As he grunts, agonized, Bobby rushes over to take over the task.

“Go sit down,” Bobby says. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m fine,” Buck grits. 

“I’m here to help, so let me do it,” Bobby argues. 

“I have to be able to boil fucking water,” Buck snaps.

Bobby sighs. “You’ll get there. Lifting just isn’t on the docket right now.”

Buck groans. He relinquishes his grip on the kettle and shuffles towards the table. 

“You don’t get this from me , you know?” Bobby explains, turning on the stovetop element.

---

And for the one I am most excited for, I am going to do a sneak and include the first 15 for a new project I'm working on with @timeshareindestin :) - SURPRISE:

---

There are a number of hiking trails near Hershey, Pennsylvania. Some of them are more challenging than others. Many have lovely views of slow-moving, verdant creeks and ponds. They’re quiet, especially in the off-season, when flocks of tourists aren’t polluting Hersheypark. They’re nice places to go, if you want to feel like you don’t exist. 

For Evan Buckley - or Buck, as nobody but himself likes to call him - time spent on these trails is a frequent reprieve. Most days off find him on one of them, breathing in clean air, listening to music, and escaping the confines of a town that make him feel like an expat from a nation of one. 

Today is no different. He woke up after a long, mostly empty shift feeling like he was caged within his own skin. Like he needed to break free from it. Instead of doing anything drastic or unwise, he got in his car, and drove out here. To the woods and the stream and the smell of mud and wet foliage. He might still do something unwise later. It’s not ruled out. But for now, he’s here. 

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 69

I would not want to play DnD with Thistle as a DM.

The chapter opens with Laios explaining WHY they have to defeat Thistle and let Laios become the new Dungeon Lord. Realistically, they have no reason to have to fight Thistle.

The party wants to restore Falin back to normal and the plan was to kill Falin, eat the dragon parts, and then resurrect the human part. Nothing about that requires fighting Thistle.

But now that Falin is dead, they've realized they're dealing with a logistical nightmare since it's impossible to transfer Falin's body to somewhere other people would be.

For a moment, I was thinking that maybe they could forgo having people eat the carcass and instead try cutting Falin out of the dragon and let other monsters eat the dragon half. But the last carnivore monster I remember seeing was the direwolves on the sixth floor and even that distance would be impossible to achieve in a timely manner.

I'm assuming the top level in this diagram refers to the town's underground tomb. If that's the case, then the entire dungeon had eight floors and Thistle's house was a separate floor from the Dwarf city ruins floor.

Thistle's dungeon altering powers includes his house. The first room when you enter his house used to be a hallway of mirrors. Now it's the kitchen.

And Thistle is being very deliberate about making their final battle be in a kitchen. He doesn't like how the party has been turning the monsters into dishes, so he's going to do the same to them.

Leave it to Senshi to be more concerned that Thistle is standing on the dining table.

More of the demon eye stuff when Thistle's at his worst. I do wonder how he'd act if he were fully himself. Thistle would probably like the party if not for the lion's influence on him. They're not raiders, they don't engage in wanton destruction, they got along great with the Kingdom residents, and Senshi insists they not take more than is needed.

Thistle might still have issue with the sorbet incident though.

Marcille did cast some sort of barrier ward to keep that stone from crushing them but it wasn't high enough to keep the stone from hitting Laios's head. Senshi seemed to catch on to what was about to happen since he pulled Izutsumi down.

Also, the bricks under where the party are standing are different and slightly lower than the rest of the flooring. This giant crusher trap wasn't a spur of the moment. Thistle redesigned the room specifically to crush the party when they walked in.

Marcille's half-elf status is revealed to the party and she looks embarrassed more than anything.

She always gets flustered when she gets racially profiled for her elven heritage. I bet if she were given the chance to become a full-breed, Marcille would choose to be a Tallman. Her fears of outliving everyone is caused by her elf heritage and she hates how pompous elves tend to act. So yeah, she gets embarrassed whenever someone says she's acting like a stereotypical elf.

The rest of the party does not like Laios's contribution to Marcille's argument.

Speaking of crossbreeds, I know of two additional crossbreed species. There are ligers (cross between male lions and female tigers) and tiger trout (cross between brown and brook trout). I did a quick search for some details on them in the hopes I could make some assumptions about the genetic relation between some of the human races. One interesting thing I found was mules and ligers are both one of two different hybrids determined by the species of each parent. Mules are the offspring of a male donkey and female horse. If the species are reversed, you get a hinny. And if you reverse the species of a liger's parents, you get a tigon.

Mules and ligers are both crossbreeds of species in the same genus. I found that horses and donkeys have different chromosomes but lions and tigers have the same number. Mules are sterile with exceedingly rare exceptions, meanwhile female ligers and tigons are able to reproduce and there are documented cases of them successfully having offspring with male lions (the hybrids are called liligers and litigons). I didn't find anything about whether those offspring survive to adulthood though.

Tiger Trout are cross-genus hybrids. They are entirely sterile and are rare even if the parent species are together. Brown and Brook trout have different chromosome counts. Tiger trouts are noteworthy for looking nothing like either parent and being more muscular than either parent.

So if I were to guess, I'd assume elves and Tallmen and all the human races are the same genus but different species, and elves and tallmen have different chromosome counts. Next question I would ask is whether a half-elf from a tallman mother and elf father has different traits and behaviours than a half-elf with an elf mother and tallman father.

Thistle said that half-elf growth rates are unstable. That would explain why Marcille grew roughly the same rate that Falin did in the academy. And since Marcille has always been so dodgy about her age, I guess she's actually far younger than her appearance implies. She looked like a child when she was a half-foot because she is child-age in elf terms.

Thistle bit his finger to the point it drew blood. Every panel before the fight where that finger is visible still has the blood on it.

Look at Senshi's face.

I just noticed something about Thistle. He appears to be ambidextrous, but he shows heavy preference for one hand depending on the situation. In the flashback last chapter, he was mostly right-handed; there were several images of him drawing, holding utensils, casting spells, and pointing with his right hand.

But during the fight in chapter 29 and this fight, he instead preferred to use his left hand. The shot of him appearing behind Yaad in chapter 47 also focused on his left hand. In chapter 66, Thistle was using his right hand for most everything EXCEPT when he grabbed those berries from Falin with his left hand. And he also started pointing with his left hand after ripping Eodio's soul out of his body.

And there are two shots of the lion licking Thistle and the lion licked Thistle's left hand both times.

Thistle's eyes change when he is acting like the person the lion turned him into, but he also seems to switch hand dominance depending on if his current behaviour is driven by his real self or the personality that the lion shaped him into.

Oh they are so screwed.

That dragon seems fascinated at Senshi's strength.

Not only would I not want Thistle to DM my DnD campaign, I also wouldn't want him to cook me anything. Those dishes look disgusting.

Ryoko Kui's commitment to the bit is both funny and grim. But this isn't as dark as the Falin and Warg skeletons because we're not given the nutrient content of these dishes. Since everything used was fed a well-balanced diet, the dishes are probably nutritious, but I don't think the cooking methods are ideal.

That Senshi casserole looks burned, the Chilchuck ruibe was frozen way too quickly and isn't being served properly, the saltwater-pickled Izutsumi is just going to taste like brine water, and the method used to prepare the nerve-clipped Marcille likely contaminated the food and made it unsafe to eat.

We've had plenty of instances of Laios's monster knowledge getting the party out of a bind, but this time we saw how the lack of knowledge made the situation worse. Laios shouted that Marcille and Senshi's methods for dealing with and escaping the dragons chasing them just made things worse.

Laios really lucked out here. It would have been ironic if he had been saved by the red dragon.

There's a nightmare stuck to Laios's forehead at the end of the chapter.

SENSHI FLASH!!

back

[callistodisco]

Radiant

Tesla ver. of this req (Thor version) I haven't read the manga so uhm, yeah probably bad Tesla Chaotic Aztec god reader; however, you don't have to be the god of chaos

Request Chungus ML Record of Ragnarok ML Nikola Tesla x m Aztec god!reader Genres: Oneshot|Fluff|Romantic

You roamed the vast land of Valhalla quite often. Sure you were a god, but you've known everyone here for thousands of years! It gets boring hanging around those losers.

So the next best thing? Hang around the dead humans that happened to get here. At least they all had a different reaction!

It took awhile of messing with some other people, but you finally stumbled upon this "Tesla" guy. Apparently he contributed quite a bit to humans, so perhaps you could spend some time irritating getting to know him. Little did you know...the tables would be turned (unintentionally).

So maybe you broke into his lab, and maybe you made a mess while looking at these papers with endless numbers, but you're innocent! The place was already a mess when you got here, who cares if it got worse?

Nikola cares. Nikola cares a lot actually. You could tell by the way he looked at the lab, the grip he had on those papers, that fire in his eyes when he saw the lines of chalk mixing together.

But he didn't say anything, not a word. Why? This mess you proudly stood in the middle of seemed all for naught. That's fine, if you can't get to him with his work, you'll just have to try with your natural charm instead.

Nikola sat in front of his chalkboard after cleaning up the mess you created, prompting you to sit next to him watch in confusion at whatever nonsense he wrote down.

"Hellooo there you silly human! Whatever are you working on?" You grinned while looking at him. When Nikola didn't answer, you inquired again, "um, hello? Human! What are you doing?"

After the second attempt, you grew tired of him ignoring you and started to poke him shoulder, "heyyyy, I'm talking to youuu," beginning to draw out your words, you waved a hand in front of Nikola's face.

"Hey? Are you ok?? Humans don't normally do this..." Less annoyed and more concerned, you began to look for anything abnormal, something that could be the cause of him ignoring you.

He can't be so zoned in that I'm zoned out! He must be sick...can the dead get sick? You began thinking to yourself before an idea came to mind.

"If you won't acknowledge me willingly, I'll just make you!" You said before grabbing hold of Nikola's seat and moving it away from the chalkboard. He has to notice me now!

Nikola slowly lowered the chalk and turned around to face whoever dare interrupt him. "It's about time, human! You are by far the airheaded person I've met!" You ranted.

Letting out an exhale you looked at his confusion filled face, "now! Tell me what it is you're doing," you said looking back over to the board.

Nikola taking this as an opportunity to start spouting theories and hopefully possible ideas, starts to yap about some science that you don't understand. "Ah! Well you see this writing here is..."

You started to zone out after the first sentence...you didn't really think paying attention would do much help anyways. That was until you heard something electricity and lightning.

"What was that about the lightning?" You asked, "and make it easy to understand!" He laughed and spoke, "I need lightning to confirm a theory, but I don't have any..."

Perhaps the boredom of being a god has been getting to you lately, but being around this irritating human a bit longer wouldn't hurt, right? No, no it wouldn't, so let's do that.

"Well, you're in luck! I'm feeling nice today and have decided to help you." Creating lightning ain't that hard, I mean maybe not large scale like Thor or Zeus, but definitely something close enough.

And so this went on for months. Tesla meets a dead end and you offer a helping hand to him. You weren't supposed to stay this long, but he's basically your emotional support human now.

Today you ended up creating a small scale sun, sure maybe the brightness and heat had a bit adjusting, but it was pretty much the real thing.

"What do ya think of this, human? Haha!" You laughed, showing off what you were capable of. What you got in response was praise, "very fascinating! It's radiant, just like you," Nikola looked at you and smiled.

Your face began to heat up and you turned away, "well don't get too excited now, this is only the beginning!" You crossed your arms and looked at him with conviction.

"I look forward to what you have in store for me," Nikola responded before running his tests and theories.

Yeah, he's a bit more than an emotional support human now, but that's alright with you.

hope you enjoyed my totally 100% accurate Tesla