#[ he has so much love but if love were a fire warming him with pride and burning him with fear

[marinehero]

No but because it continues to drive me insane that besides Koby and Helmeppo, situation vastly different but that's another ramble, nearly everyone important in Garp's life whom he had some part in mentoring or raising ended up on as an enemy of the institution he's dedicated his life towards and part of the reason why is that Garp himself craves freedom so badly. He hates the Celestial Dragons, he abides by his own set of morals and he imparts that stubborness onto those he cares for and he feels like he's damned them but he never learns his lesson. He never thought he had to learn his lesson. He never wanted or asked for any of them but by the sea does he love them all so much. He wants to protect them. He tries and he fails and he tries and he fails and part of him knows why he keeps failing, greater part refuses to listen and he is so afraid.

[gtgbabie0]

how do you think a marriage between cregan and a lannister daughter would go?

love ur writing! keep up the good work <33

-Cregan Stark x LannisterWife!Reader

Synopsis: {Your Lord husband seems to be the only one who can calm you}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

This is an old request but thank you nonetheless// hope you enjoy my lovelies💕

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You were a comely girl, always have been so it was no surprise that the Lord Stark had taken an interest in you during his time in the Red Keep- in which you were sent by members of your house to try and get your family back into the good books of the people in the court.

A feat you weren’t so successful in, having been turned away by numerous people or called horrid things behind your back sometimes plainly to your face. Every day spent at court was a blow to your pride, and gods did it make you a bitter person.

Cregan Stark found entertainment in your company, through his blunt banter and snarky remarks the way in which you would come back at him with all your might. Before he knew it he was completely infatuated with you and made an offer you simply couldn’t refuse, leaving Kings Landing.

Sometimes you regret ever accepting the damn deal.

“Get any closer and you’ll set that pretty blonde hair of yours on fire.” His rough voice breaks through the silence from his place at the desk where he had been reading through a couple of letters.

You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to the flames that crackle and snap within the hearth just in spite at the sound of his chuckle. He watches you closely, marvelling at how the warm orangey light of the flames splay across your face making your hair glow like fine threads of golden silk.

“Perhaps if it weren’t so cold then I wouldn’t have to sit this close.” You huff, pulling his furs that you had stolen over your shoulders.

“Winterfell is built upon a hot spring, the castle is plenty warm you’re just looking for an excuse to whine.” He says and you can practically hear the smirk that tugs on his handsome face.

You don’t answer him, instead letting silence and the soft sounds of the fireplace overtake your shared bedchambers however your lack of response doesn’t deter Cregan from continuing.

“You should wear something warmer than silks and airy dresses, my sweet.” The words are laced with amusement, he leans forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, searching your unimpressed expression with his dark eyes.

“And wear dull shades greys?… no thank you.” You tell him, not wanting to accept the fact that perhaps there was slight truth to his words, still not meeting his gaze.

“So you’d rather freeze for the sake of what? Fashion? Very smart of you.” He replies sarcastically. “Especially for a Lannister, quite impressive my love.”

Your head snaps over to his direction, glaring up at him with narrowed eyes as he all but smirks back at you. He never failed to rile you up, bringing you to a burning point only to leave you all frustrated or worse— when he touches you in such a reverent way that makes you feel like a goddess, you couldn’t help but completely bend to his will. You swear he takes joy in bruising your pride.

He reaches over, brushing a curl of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that he’s only ever shown to you and somehow just like that your anger ebbs away like snow underneath a summer's sun.

But you wouldn’t succumb that quickly and so you shrug off his hand, turning back to the fireplace with a small huff and he laughs because he knows- despite your little show- that he has you right where he wants you.

Cregan stands up from his chair, making his way over to a much more comfortable one that sits in front of the grand fireplace— closer to you. Despite how much you both clash at times he loves you, ever so dearly. He had defended you countless times back in Kings Landing and Winterfell, against anyone who dared try to speak poorly upon your name. Not just because of his marriage vows or honour, but because he sees you as you are not the hardened women the years had made of you.

There was a warmth to you, he’d seen it in glimpses. The way you care for his son as if he were your own, how you have your maids bring two cups of tea- one for him and one for you- to sate his sweet tooth.

You push yourself up from the floor, trying to distance yourself from him but he’s quick to catch your hips in his big hands. With a wolfish grin, he tugs you onto his lap and you accept defeat, it was too tiring to fight a man so headstrong.

“I’ll warm you up if you’re still cold.” He mumbles gruffly, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against his chest.

The warmth from his study body melts away the tension between your shoulder blades and you can’t help but sigh in contentment, leaning against him as he tugs you impossibly closer to him.

His hands caress the curve of your hips, looking up at you with a lazy smile. “I am still a little cold, I wouldn’t mind.” You reply playfully, trailing your fingertips along his cheek in small patterns.

“Ah, there she is…” Cregan whispers, relishing at the sight of your smile that you try so hard to fight off.

“Yes, yes, marvel whilst you can, it won’t last long.” The words make Cregan chuckle, his hands mapping out the outline of your body, caressing along your ribcage.

“Then I shall marvel with all my heart.” He promises, pressing a kiss against your shoulder, then another to your jaw. The wispy hairs of his beard tickle your skin as he nuzzles against you on purpose.

A pleasured hum escapes you by accident and by the way he smirks against your neck you can tell he’s holding back some sort of snarky comment, instead choosing to savour this moment and the way you lean into his touch.

He takes his time, showering your shoulders in kisses- trailing his lips up to the soft curve of your jaw and pushing the furs that drape over your shoulders off until they’re sitting on the floor leaving you in just a thin silky dress.

“What’s gotten you in such a mood, huh?” Cregan asks, leaning back against the cushioned sofa to really drink in the sight of you perched upon his lap.

You shrug your shoulders, lacing your fingers with his own. “I feel out of place, more so than often.” The words send an ache through his chest, his brows immediately furrowing at the confession.

It wasn’t a new thing for him to hear, however, that never made it any easier. Cregan remembers the first night you arrived in the North, the tears— gods, you were inconsolable. He understood why, the place was far from home and the people were hardened by the cold weather and then there was you… the complete opposite in every way, that’s why he spent all night whispering words of comfort and holding you.

“Silly girl, come here.” He says, coaxing you to lay against his chest and without hesitation, you curl up into him, your head resting on his shoulder as his fingers brush through your silken hair. “I’d have no one else by my side except you, my girl, understand?” He whispers, pressing a kiss against your hairline.

You nod against his shoulder, melting against him with a small sigh. “Mhm, of course, I do.” Your words are muffled against the soft fabric of his tunic, the smell of firewood and leather clinging to him- it was comforting, like home.

Cregan tilts your head upwards slightly, his gaze softening as he admires your face. “Don’t doubt the place you have in my heart… ever.” He tells you with a loving tone, so soft and caring, before leaning down to steal a delicate kiss from your lips.

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[its-avalon-08]

why did you leave me (cl16)

part1 !

multipart story! find masterlist here

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Y/N and Charles had been inseparable since childhood. They met on the first day of school, when Charles, a shy boy with striking green eyes, had been sitting alone during lunch. Y/N, with her boundless energy and warm smile, had plopped down beside him and declared they were going to be best friends. And they were.

Over the years, they shared countless memories. They would often sneak out of their houses at night to sit by the waterfront, talking about their dreams and fears. Charles, who loved racing, would talk endlessly about becoming a Formula 1 driver, and Y/N, who adored his passion, would listen intently, offering unwavering support.

One evening, they were at their favorite spot by the water. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over everything. Y/N watched Charles as he animatedly discussed his latest race, his eyes sparkling with excitement. She loved how passionate he was, how he never gave up, even when things got tough. It was in moments like these that she felt her heart swell with feelings she was too afraid to voice.

"Y/N, you’re the best," Charles said, grinning. "I don't know what I’d do without you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering. "I’m just glad I get to be here with you, Charles."

Another time, they were at a party. Charles, always the life of the event, was in the middle of a group of friends, telling a story. Y/N stood on the outskirts, watching him with a mixture of pride and longing. He caught her eye and gave her a wink, causing her to blush and look away. She knew she was in love with him, but she didn’t want to ruin their friendship by confessing.

Then there was the day he had his first major racing win. Y/N was there, cheering the loudest. When he crossed the finish line, she ran to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"I knew you could do it!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding with pride and something deeper.

Charles laughed, lifting her off the ground. "We did it, Y/N! We did it!"

But the moment she cherished the most was when they sat by the fire at a family camping trip. The night was cold, and the fire crackled between them. Charles looked at her, his face illuminated by the flames.

"Y/N," he said softly, "you’re my rock. I couldn’t have done any of this without you."

She smiled, her heart aching with unspoken love. "And I’ll always be here for you, Charles. No matter what."

Their bond seemed unbreakable, and Y/N cherished every moment, even as her feelings for him grew stronger. She knew she would rather have him as a friend than risk losing him by revealing her heart.

But one day a few years later, everything changed.

They were sitting in Charles' living room, watching a movie. Charles turned to her, a hesitant smile on his face.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said.

Her heart skipped a beat. "What is it, Charles?"

"I’ve met someone," he said, his eyes shining with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "Her name is Camille, and she’s amazing. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now and she is so lovely. You'll love her!"

Her heart stopped. Y/N's insides felt cold as she felt her heart shatter like glass. Tears started to form and her breath got stuck in her throat. She felt the world tilt on its axis. She forced a smile as hard as it was, her happiness vanishing. "That’s so great, Charlie!. I’m really happy for you."

He grinned, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I knew you’d be so happy. I won't bother you every weekend for a movie anymore Y/N/N! I just want to thank you for putting up with me for so long. You’re the best."

She nodded, trying to keep her composure. "Always."

As Charles went on about Camille, Y/N's mind raced. She knew things would never be the same. She would have to make a choice: to stay close and risk her heart breaking every day and potentially damage his relationship or to distance herself out of respect for Camille and protect her own feelings. But right now, all she could do was listen and pretend to be happy for him, while her heart shattered silently.

Y/N stood up abruptly, needing an excuse to leave. "I just remembered I have to help my mom with something. I’ll see you later, Charles."

"Are you sure?," he said, looking a bit puzzled. She nodded. Charles muttered, "See you later, Y/N."

She walked out of his house, her chest tight with suppressed emotions. Once outside, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her unspoken love pressing down on her. She knew things would never be the same again.

And with that realization, she made her decision. She would distance herself, for both their sakes, even if it meant breaking her own heart.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvur @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff

[girlkisser13]

clara bow

"you look like percy jackson" "in this light, we're loving it" "you've got edge he never did" "the future's bright, dazzling"

pairings: percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. purely fluff. dad percy.

summary: your daughter looks just like her father.

the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the sandy shores of montauk beach. percy jackson, now in his mid-twenties, stretched out on a towel, enjoying the peaceful sound of the waves crashing against the shore. you lay beside him, watching your four-year-old daughter as she ran along the water's edge, her laughter mingling with the sea breeze.

"she's got your energy," you remarked with a smile, glancing at percy. his dark hair, tousled by the wind, and his sea-green eyes were mirrored in your daughter. her curls bounced as she chased after the foam, her excitement palpable.

"yeah," percy replied, his voice filled with pride. "and your curiosity. look at her go. she's like a little explorer."

you watched your daughter with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. the way she fearlessly dove into the waves, her little feet leaving imprints in the wet sand, reminded you so much of percy when the two of you first met. he had the same fearless nature, the same insatiable curiosity about the world around him.

"do you remember the first time we came here together?" you asked, your voice softening as you looked at percy. "you were so determined to show me how to surf, even though the waves were huge."

he chuckled, recalling the memory. "i remember. you wiped out spectacularly, but you got right back up. that’s one of the things i love about you, y/n. you're as stubborn as i am."

you laughed, leaning your head against percy's shoulder. "and now our daughter has inherited that stubbornness. but you know, she has something else, too."

he raised an eyebrow, curious. "oh? what's that?"

"an edge," you said, your eyes twinkling. "she's got this… determination, this drive, that goes beyond what either of us had at her age. she's not just fearless; she's fearless and focused. it’s like she knows exactly what she wants and won't stop until she gets it."

percy watched as his daughter stood on a small sand dune, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for something only she could see. "yeah, i see it too," he admitted. "she's got this fire in her. It's amazing."

you smiled, feeling a swell of pride. "that's your influence, percy. but she also has my patience, my ability to think things through. she’s a perfect blend of us both, with her own unique spark."

he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "we make a pretty great team, don’t we?"

you nodded, resting your head on his chest. "we do. and we’re raising an incredible daughter. she's going to do amazing things."

as the two of you watched your daughter build a sandcastle with unwavering determination, you felt a deep sense of contentment. your journey together had been filled with challenges and triumphs, and now, watching your daughter thrive, you knew that every moment had been worth it.

"hey, y/d/n!" percy called out. "come show us your castle!"

she turned, her face lighting up with a bright smile. she ran towards the both of you, her small hands covered in sand. "look, mommy! daddy! it's a castle for the mermaids!"

as your daughter continued to describe the intricate details of her mermaid castle, you and percy exchanged a tender glance, your hearts swelling with love and pride. the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the beach and turning the waves into sparkling gems.

percy, still holding you close, leaned in and whispered, "so, what do you think? want to make another one?"

you looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise and amusement. "another castle?" you teased, knowing full well what he meant.

percy laughed, shaking his head. "you know what i mean. another little jackson running around, making sandcastles and chasing waves."

you pretended to ponder the idea, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "hmm, well, y/d/n is pretty amazing... maybe another one wouldn’t be so bad."

percy grinned, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. "i think we’d make another pretty great team project."

you swatted him lightly on the shoulder, "you did not just call our daughter a project!"

you both laughed as your daughter came running back to the two of you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "what’s so funny?"

"nothing, sweetheart," you said, scooping her up into your arms. "just talking about how much we love you."

she giggled, wrapping her arms around your neck. "i love you too, mommy. and you, daddy."

as the three of you made your way back to your beach blanket, the sun setting behind you, you and percy knew that whatever the future held, the both of you would face it together, your hearts forever intertwined by the love of your little family.

"maybe one day," percy murmured to you as you watched your daughter settle down with her favorite blanket, the waves lulling her to sleep.

"maybe," you agreed, squeezing his hand. "but for now, this is perfect."

and with that, the two of you sat together, watching the stars emerge in the night sky, your hearts full of love and gratitude for the life you had built together.

[mrsfancyferrari]

You Know Me Best

Summary: Charles has a bad day and you as his best friend always knows what he wants, but do you really?

Song: Friends by Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: This is similar to Just One Kiss but the ending is the different and spicy version. This is my first time writing an erotic scene so please just give constructive criticism. I just want to keep celebrating Charles' win T_T

Word count: 3.6k

Charles Leclerc experienced a challenging day on the track, and as his best friend, you noticed his need for comfort and reassurance. Charles has always been known for being incredibly intuitive, and you knew that he wanted to unwind and seek solace in his favorite activities.

Whenever Charles feels overwhelmed or stressed, he tends to crave comfort food. You know that he can always count on you to bring him his favorite treats, whether it's a bowl of warm homemade soup or a delicious sandwich.

You knew that providing him with one of his favorite foods would provide him with a sense of comfort and stability.

Throughout the day, you noticed a newfound attentiveness among the team members and fans alike. They knew that Charles was having a bad day, and they couldn't help but notice the changes in his behavior.

Whether it was his distracted demeanor or the way he constantly sought out your comfort, everyone realized that something was amiss.

However, what no one realized was that you were the one who understood Charles better than anyone else.

You knew exactly what he needed, and you were determined to bring him the comfort and reassurance he craved.

Throughout the years, you made sure that Charles had his favorite meals, whether it was sneaking him a few bites of dessert during team meetings or surprising him with a late-night snack.

You knew that these small gestures would make a difference, helping him regain his footing and regain his confidence.

"Are you sure you're not married or something?" Daniel joked to you as he watched you give Charles some snacks.

"No, just really good friends," you replied with a laugh. "But sometimes it feels like we're practically married with how well I know him."

Daniel chuckled and said, "Well, if you ever decide to tie the knot, I hope you'll remember to invite me to the wedding. I wouldn't want to miss out on witnessing such a perfect match!"

"Of course, Daniel! You'll be at the top of the guest list," you replied, grateful for the lighthearted moment amidst the tension.

What you didn't know was that Charles was listening to your conversation. As he overheard Daniel's comment about you two being a perfect match, a small smile formed on his face, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to your friendship than he had realized.

Your friendship with Charles runs deep, rooted in years of shared experiences and unwavering support. From late-night conversations to celebrating each other's successes, you have been there for each other through thick and thin.

Charles knows that your understanding of him goes beyond mere comfort food, and he cherishes the bond you share.

But as the smile lingered on his face, Charles couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more than just friendship between the two of you.

The thought had crossed his mind before, but now, listening to your conversation with Daniel, it seemed like the universe was teasing him with the possibility of a deeper connection. . . .

The thought of a deeper connection with Charles had always lingered in your heart, but fear had held you back from taking any action. You were in love with him, and had been for as long as you could remember, but the risk of losing the friendship you cherished so much had always been too great.

As you watched Charles zoom around the Monaco track in his racing car, gripping onto your seat in the paddock, a surge of emotions washed over you. The adrenaline, the excitement, and the undeniable sense of pride in seeing him pursue his passion ignited a fire within you.

The roar of the engine filled the air as Charles sped past, his car a blur of color. A mix of excitement and anxiety washed over you, causing your heart to race in sync with the car.

As you held your breath, you couldn't help but notice the fierce competition from Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, who were hot on Charles' heels, ready to seize any opportunity to overtake him.

The race was far from over, and the tension only grew as the laps ticked by, making you wonder if Charles would be able to maintain his lead until the end.

The race intensified with each passing lap, as Charles skillfully navigated the twists and turns of the Monaco track. He expertly maneuvered his car, pushing it to its limits, while Max Verstappen and Lando Norris continued to apply relentless pressure. The crowd erupted with excitement, their cheers echoing through the air, as the three drivers engaged in a thrilling battle for the top spot.

Every move, every split-second decision, held the potential to determine the outcome of the race. The tension was palpable as the cars zoomed past, their engines roaring and tires screeching, creating a symphony of speed.

With each passing lap, the stakes grew higher, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. As the race entered its final stages, every corner became a make-or-break moment, and you held your breath, praying for Charles to maintain his lead until the checkered flag.

As soon as he crossed the finish line, everyone jumped up from their seats, including you. The air was filled with a mix of cheers, applause, and jubilation as Charles secured the victory he had fought so hard for.

Emotions overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy for him.

You rushed to the podium, eager to congratulate Charles on his well-deserved win. Your heart swelled with pride as you embraced him, knowing that your unwavering support had played a small part in his momentous victory.

Charles stepped out of his racing car, his face beaming with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause, recognizing his incredible skill and determination in securing the hard-fought victory.

When he finally found you, Charles quickly hugged you tightly, his grip filled with gratitude and genuine appreciation.

The bond between you and Charles had grown stronger through countless races, and this victory was a testament to the unwavering support and belief you had in each other.

As his head was tucked into your neck, you gently stroked his hair in response, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and the elation of his triumph. In that moment, you knew that all the sacrifices, the late nights, and the unwavering support were worth it, as you celebrated this unforgettable victory together.

"You did it," you whispered, your voice filled with pride and admiration. "All your hard work and determination paid off. I couldn't be happier for you."

Charles smiled against your neck and whispered back, "Thank you for always believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."

Charles then let go of you and looked into your eyes before saying, "Can you meet me in my driver's room after? I have something important to discuss with you."

"Sure," you nodded as he was taken away by a staff member. As you watched Charles disappear into the crowd, your mind raced with anticipation, wondering what he could possibly have to discuss with you.

As you watched Charles make his way to the podium, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his remarkable achievement. The sight of him standing tall, his face glowing with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph, filled you with immense pride.

It was a moment that would forever be etched in your memory, a testament to the years of hard work and determination that had brought him to this point.

"He likes you, you know,"

Startled by Arthur Leclerc's sudden appearance, you turned to face him with a surprised expression. "What do you mean?" you asked, curious about his comment.

Arthur smirked mischievously and replied, "Oh, come on. It's obvious. Charles talks about you all the time. I think he's finally ready to take your relationship to the next level."

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Oh, Arthur, you've got it all wrong. Charles and I are just friends."

Arthur's eyebrows raised at your comment. "Maman says otherwise, she's always talking about you," he said with a smirk.

You felt a mix of surprise and curiosity, wondering what Charles' mother could possibly be saying about you.

"Just know that the family will welcome you in with open arms if you two get together," Arthur added, his mischievous smirk widening. As he walked away, leaving you with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Charles than just friendship.

As Charles stood on the podium, he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and honor as the Prince of Monaco handed him the golden trophy. The gleaming trophy symbolized not only his extraordinary victory, but also the recognition and respect he had earned from the racing community and the world at large.

In that moment, as the national anthem played and Charles made a point to lock eyes with you, it felt like a silent affirmation of his feelings. The intensity of his gaze left you with no doubt that there was something more than friendship between you two, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation for what the future might hold.

In that moment, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through your chest, matching the pride evident in his eyes. As the applause filled the air, you realized that your own feelings for Charles had grown deeper than you had allowed yourself to admit.

The future suddenly seemed full of possibilities, and you couldn't wait to explore them together. . . .

As the celebrations continued, you found yourself caught up in the whirlwind of joy and excitement surrounding Charles and Ferrari's victory. The atmosphere was electric, filled with cheers, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses.

In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for Charles and a deep sense of pride for being a part of his journey.

A staff member approached you with a message, informing you that Charles was looking for you amidst the celebrations.

As your heart raced with anticipation, you couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to say and how this momentous victory would further solidify the bond between you.

"Charles wants to see you," they said, their voice filled with urgency. Intrigued and slightly nervous, you followed the staff member through the crowd and made your way to Charles' private suite.

As you knocked on the door, your heart raced with anticipation, wondering what Charles wanted to discuss with you in this intimate setting.

As you wait for Charles to open the door, a mix of excitement and nervousness floods your senses. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your mind races with possibilities of what he might say.

In this moment, every second feels like an eternity, and you can't help but wonder how this conversation will shape the future of your relationship.

You heard the sound of footsteps growing louder and closer to the door, causing your anticipation to heighten. Each step seemed to echo in your ears, building up the tension and making you even more eager to see Charles and hear what he had to say.

As you heard the footsteps come closer to the door, your anticipation grew. The sound of Charles' voice calling your name sent a thrill through your entire body, and you couldn't wait to see the expression on his face as he opened the door.

"Yes, it's me Charles," you responded, a smile spreading across your face.

The door swung open, revealing Charles with a mixture of excitement and nervousness mirrored in his eyes.

When you met Charles' gaze, there was something in his eyes that took your breath away: a blend of lust and desire that took you by surprise.

His eyes scanned your whole body slowly, taking in every detail with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, his gaze filled with a newfound appreciation and longing.

As his eyes scanned your whole body slowly, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if he was undressing you with his gaze, his desire palpable in the air. You couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, wondering what he had in mind for the two of you.

It was as if he was taking in every detail, every curve, every nuance, and savoring the moment.

"Charles?"

For a brief moment, Charles blinked and locked eyes with you, seemingly forgetting the intimate setting you were in. The intensity of his gaze broke the tension, and you could sense a deep connection forming between you.

It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

"Come in," he said, widening the door for you, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. As you stepped inside, the outside world seemed to disappear, leaving only the possibility of what this conversation could bring.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Charles?" you asked, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.

Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of vulnerability. "I wanted to talk about us," he whispered, his words hanging in the air

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, something I've been holding back for far too long.

You nodded, encouraging him to say it, your heart pounding with anticipation. The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his confession building.

Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wanted to talk about us," he began, his words hanging in the air. "I've realized that I can't ignore my feelings for you any longer. I've fallen in love with you."

Your eyes widened at his statement, unable to believe what you were hearing. The room fell silent as you processed his words, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

"Oh no, I knew it wasn't going to work," Charles muttered into his hands, taking your silence as an assumption that you rejected him. But little did he know, your silence was not a sign of rejection, but rather a moment of shock and disbelief.

You were quick to realize that Charles misunderstood your silence, so you walked over to him and gently took his hands off his face, meeting his eyes with a reassuring gaze.

As his scared eyes met your excited eyes, a moment of vulnerability passed between you. You could see the fear of rejection lingering in his gaze, while your eyes reflected a mixture of surprise and joy. In that instant, you knew that this confession meant as much to him as it did to you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and affection for him.

"I love you too, Charles," you whispered as you cupped his cheeks gently. The weight of his confession lifted off both of you, replaced by an overwhelming sense of happiness and relief.

In that moment, Charles couldn't contain his joy and excitement. He quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his hands around your waist, as if afraid that you might slip away.

The warmth of his embrace reassured you that his love was genuine, and you couldn't help but melt into his arms, feeling a sense of safety and belonging that you had longed for.

"Can I?" he muttered, pulling back from the hug enough to stare at your lips. The intense desire in his eyes matched the longing in his voice, as if he was seeking permission to seal his confession with a passionate kiss.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips. The moment your mouths met, a surge of electricity coursed through your bodies, igniting a fire that had been simmering between you. The kiss was passionate and filled with all the pent-up emotions that had been building since the moment you met.

As your lips met, a wave of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, a tingling sensation spread through your chest, and your knees felt weak with anticipation.

The intensity of the kiss confirmed that the connection between you and Charles was not only emotional, but also physical, leaving you both breathless and craving for more. . . .

Their bodies moved as one, their hands exploring every inch of each other's skin. Their breaths intertwined in a symphony of desire as they surrendered to the heat of their passion.

Soft moans escaped their lips, mingling with whispered words of love and longing. In the midst of their ecstasy, their eyes locked, conveying a depth of connection that words could never capture.

"I've waited so long for this," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and adoration.

"Me too," you responded, your voice laced with pure bliss.

In that intimate moment, every touch felt like the caress of silk against skin. Your fingertips danced across each other's bare flesh, creating a symphony of pleasure that sent shivers down your spine.

Charles carried you onto the sofa, laying you down as he kneeled over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own.

You gasp as Charles's lips make contact with your neck, his touch sending electric currents through your body.

The sensation of his warm breath against your skin intensifies the desire pooling within you, as you arch your neck, granting him further access to explore the depths of your pleasure.

Charles' hands moved with purpose, skillfully undoing the buttons of your blouse one by one. As each article of clothing fell away, he whispered seductive words of praise and desire in your ear, igniting a deeper sense of arousal within you.

You surrendered to his words, intoxicated by the way he took control and unleashed a wave of passion that consumed you both.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to explore every inch of you, to taste every part of your pleasure."

His words sent shivers down your spine, fueling your desire and leaving you yearning for more of his commanding touch.

You respond with a low, sultry moan, your body arching further into his touch, silently begging for more. The sound of your moans only adds to Charles's desire, fueling his determination to fulfill your every craving and ignite a passion that would consume you both. "I want you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want you so badly."

The intensity of your desire could be seen in your eyes when you looked up at him.

"I want you too, Charles," you said, biting your lower lip.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I can't believe you're mine."

You smiled up at him, your eyes filled with love.

"I'm all yours, Charles," you said, reaching up to pull him down on top of you.

Charles didn't waste any time. He kissed you deeply, your tongues dancing together in a passionate embrace. He ran his hands over your body, feeling every curve and contour.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing," he said, his breath hot against your ear.

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him.

"Charles, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."

Charles didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his dick throbbing with need.

"Are you ready for me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded, your eyes wide with desire.

"Yes, Charles, I'm ready," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Charles pushed inside you, feeling your tight warmth surround him. He groaned with pleasure, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he said, his voice filled with wonder.

You moaned, your fingers digging into his back, as Charles continued to move inside you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Charles, don't stop," you begged, your hips meeting his with every thrust.

Charles couldn't stop if he wanted to. He was lost in the pleasure of being inside you, of feeling your body respond to his touch.

"Come for me, Y/N," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I want to feel you come apart in my arms." "I'm so close, Charles," you gasped, your voice filled with desperation. "Please, don't stop."

Charles's movements became faster and more intense, his breathing ragged. "I won't stop, Y/N," he growled, his voice filled with determination. "I want you to come for me, to lose yourself in pleasure."

The room filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of your bodies coming together. As the intensity built, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall into ecstasy.

And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of orgasm washed over you.

Charles kissed your forehead gently. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let you go. You're my everything."

And in that moment, as you melted into each other's arms, you knew that this was a love that would withstand any obstacle. . . .

[mercif4l]

(𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲) 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 — ksy

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kwon soonyoung

word count: 2.4k

summary: hoshi's second favorite place to be is between your thighs. no flight will take that away from him.

content warning: smut smut smut, boyfriend!hoshi, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, oral: f. receiving, fingering, teasing), soonyoung is a brat lmfao

a/n: ty all for the love on the teaser it really means the world 😭 hoshi is a BITER argue with the wall. go listen to charli xcx's 'beg for you' ft vernon! thank u so much to @haologram, @beomcoups, @wonuwoe and @jenoslutie for helping me through the terrors of posting on tumblr for the first time ᥫ᭡

Soonyoung had laughed when you’d taught him about kink vocabulary. The first time you called him a ‘service top’, he’d conflated it with being a milkman or a post officer. He’d had a fit in the Don Quixote cleaning aisle about urban dictionary and spent the whole walk home collating the worst modern sex-terms. 

None of that changed the fact you were right (as always) and he was being over-dramatic (as always). 

Just like he is right now. 

Kissing you like its sleep for the exhausted; with desperation, total familiarity, and a warmth that makes everything a bit hazey. Where the thought of leaving any part of you untouched by his mouth makes him feel physically ill. But he’s on a time crunch, one you won’t let him wistfully ignore, and that means compromises must be made.

It’s shocking how each time he touches you, pinching this and soothing his tongue over that, it feels like the first time. Each kiss followed by a gasp and relieved groan. Is it how he takes his sweet time nibbling beneath your earlobe? Or grazing his nails over the curve of your spine? Or how he flushes pink every time you so much as pant for him? 

Whatever the answer, his reaction remains the same: total pride. Arrogance, really, at the fact he just can and he never has to ask.

In fairness, you’re not doing very well to tame him. Every moan he elicits presses like a gold star to the bottom of his belly, its outline warming the flesh til it burns: a reward for being so good that you can’t hold it in. 

Almost like butterflies, if they were on fire and could make him cum in his pants untouched.

You curl a lock of his hair between your fingers and nudge him over. Away from your chest, away from your fluttering ribcage, away away away, just anywhere but on you. 

Soonyoung whines, because of course he does, and fixates on kissing your palm as you mumble: “Gotta go, baby.” 

They sound like the last words he’ll ever hear from your Venusian lips (Drama.)

But he knows this look. This tone. The non-committal ‘no’ that you try your best to squeeze out. Like a false alarm; a reminder that he can only have so much fun before you run off to prove a point.

So, instead of stopping like you suggest, he brings his forehead up to yours and, with the weight of his entire body, presses you down into the pillows. 

“Wanna… wanna make you feel good. Said you’d let me.” 

God, he’s so whiny. It really would annoy you if it didn’t make your legs cross and your mouth salivate. 

“I know, but—“ All it takes to shut you up is a hump to your thigh, his slacks pulled tight as his bulge leaks onto you. Your eyes close at the wet feeling; he plays you for a fool every time you try to deny him. 

So, instead you finish your own sentence with a resigned “I know.” and decide to at least let him try. 

And he might have successfully hidden his shit-eating grin, were it not now pressed against your stomach. 

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” 

A giggle echoes out across the room and whether it’s his or yours, you’re both too excited to notice. Always a bit too distracted with the feeling of each other. “Sorry, sorry baby,” it’s a lie—he’s not sorry at all. 

It’s obvious in the way he bounces down the bed; the twinkle of his eyes as his middle and forefinger lace beneath the waistband of your stockings, gently tugging them down your leg. 

It’s even more obvious in the pleased grumble that follows them all the way down. 

Soonyoung has been scolded one too many times to repeat the same mistake of ripping them off. He knows how bratty you get when your belongings become collateral to his prone bone, how vengeful you can be. How long you’re happy to go without his touch and how painful it is to go without yours. 

His shoulders tense at the memory. The frustration enforced a stark change in behavior all within that one week of celibacy. 

“Always so… so gentle for—mmh, me…. good boy, so good baby,” when you’re like this, it’s the easiest rule to obey in the world. After all, positive reinforcement is the foremost currency for buying Kwon Soonyoung’s patience. 

A shiver stutters through your body, goosebumps forming against his chin as it lies snug against your thigh. 

“Cute.” 

“Shut up..” there’s no hiding the smile this time. It’s plain across his features as he bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Not a moment later and he’s back to nibbling at your flesh (just as an excuse to lick over it). Saliva draws a path up your thigh and you laugh over this obsession he’s developed: the obsession with having his tongue on you. 

It’s hard to forget his bashful admission that ‘tasting every part of you’ turned him on. How his pupils had blown so wide, bright red fingers covering his bright red nose, firm arms curled over his head to obscure your view of his equally bright red ears. 

The same fingers that fluttered at your hips, and the same fingers that sit an inch away from his second favorite place to lie: between your legs (the first being between your arms, as the small spoon, with his head resting on your tits.)

He lets a hot breath trail across your underwear before pressing his nose up against you with a sigh. His hands sneak behind your ass and hold onto you. Not pulling or pushing, just holding. Thrumming. Pressing. 

“You drumming something out down there?”

Your boyfriend nips back at you this time, with a “wouldn’t you like to know.” and his best attempt at a smirk.

“Loser.” it comes as a half-truth, half-joke, but he takes it as a challenge. Typical.

After a single snort, he urges your knees to spread wider with a gentle bite to one side. He practically slobbers his way up to your heat, only closing his soaked mouth when he makes a show of smelling you.

“Gross. Stop it—“ you find it near impossible to overpower him and clamp your legs close, even more irritated by his unbothered face as his toned and slick arms keep you spread. 

“Not gross. Smells good, baby, wanna smell like you…” the crass idea of him wanting to smell like your slick isn’t what shuts you up.

What stuns you to silence is his nose dragging back and forth, side to side, around and around, filling the air with your whimpers as you fuss against the headboard. 

You know that he knows he’s being mean. The layer of fabric between you is leaving so little to the imagination, your want seeping through it, and you just might let him rip them off this time, just to close that distance and finally fucking—

Your imaginary protest is forgotten the second he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, dragging them all the way off.

What a pretty mouth.

“Thank you.” you realize a beat too late that you’ve said that out loud. 

The shine of his bared teeth (and the wetness that had collected in your panties, now smothered across his chin) makes you roll your eyes.

You smile back, calling him a “brat.” 

And he was a total brat. And it was totally your fault. 

But there’s no time to enjoy the following silence when he’s so hard that he might pass out. Instead, he lays flat on his stomach and bends one knee, starting to rock against the mattress underneath you both. By the time he finishes making a mess of your skin (and himself), he’s hungry. 

And if he kisses like it’s sleep to the exhausted, then Soonyoung eats like a starved man. 

His own spit mixes with your wetness in one languid, indulgent lick, and suddenly, he’s everywhere. Fast, breathy laps at your clit, his tongue traveling in tight circles, vibrating as he grunts shamelessly on top of you. Your back curves inward as you attempt to muffle your own sighs. 

Desperately trying to hear him mumble away inside you. Try being the key word; its way too much way too quick for you to keep quiet. 

Soonyoung would call it something obnoxious: say it was world-ending, but all the attention and worship from his mouth and hands and the heat of his every breath on you might just justify his drama. 

His lithe fingers and their angel touch—the kind of sensation you’d only be blessed with in heaven. To experience it like this, all sweaty and red and alive, feels a bit like sin.

Feels even better knowing that he’s dry humping himself to a climax over it. 

Happy tears destroy your mascara as he savors you without pause or pity.

The room is warmed by his hopeless whispers of praise: ‘so pretty’, ‘so wet’, ‘thank you’, ‘god’, ‘needed this’ and ‘love you’. With his sweet, sweet moans, and the occasional squeak that means he’s definitely slowing himself down against the mattress to avoid coming before you.

Still, you can’t help but stare at him—even through your bleary eyes. If you weren’t lost in your own unintelligible whimpers, you might think to take a photo. 

The scene is debauched, lewd, and so fucking hot, and all you want is to savor it forever, to keep it on your person like a badge of honor.

His wild eyes flicking between you and your twitching legs, pupils blown so wide you can’t help but purr. The whimpering that catches in his wet throat and comes out obscenely loud anyway. How desperate he is to watch you feeling good, and how the look on your face as he soaks you in his tongue is priceless. 

Soonyoung lifts himself up briefly to spit on his fingers. With the string of saliva collecting on your throbbing pussy, he slides them through your entrance and beckons inward. A come here kind of gesture. The kind he knows will make you squeal and press your thighs hard against his cheeks. 

Your boyfriend knows your body better than his own. Every freckle on your skin, or every mole that appears where you can’t spot it, and seeks it out just so the knowledge is his and his alone; so it can’t be kept by anyone else (and after however many years, this secret is amongst the closest to his heart.)

“God, you’re so wet. so wet baby, so warm too, fuuuuck, so warm.. wanna, hmm gonna, gonna live between your legs. gonna, oh fuck—“ his garbles between your lips entertain you enough to smile. You watch closely when his hips stutter as he works himself up, drool gathering in the corner of his lips at the thought of making you cum like this. 

“So pretty this way… my pretty girl, feels good?” his mouth is salivating, throat mewling as he watches you rock your hips into him, driving against his face so deliciously, presenting yourself to him.

Of course, he takes it. It’s too generous a gift to refuse. 

He knows his favorite present is yet to come but it won’t take much more waiting, the tell tale signs of your orgasm already smothering your face.

The thought turns his eyes into those famous crescent moons and you try to rest your hands beside them, to show him an ounce of affection, but they end up yanking his hair back after one particularly loud slurp against your clit. 

All that sudden vibration catches you totally off guard. It’s messy and long and so desperate that you can’t help but shove his head a little further closer.

His fingers curl slower and slower against that tender spot inside you, so deliberate in caressing it each and every pass that you can’t help but start to shake. 

Your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you’re almost scared it’s going to stop. Every breath he chases from you is labored and short and you think you might just die, when—

“Gonna come? please, baby, baby… c’mon, don’t make me beg for you.” he’s literally sobbing, begging you not to force a ‘please’ from him, ignorant of the fact that he’s already begged and pleased several times already. It’s no surprise he’s too pussydrunk to notice—he’s always this way. Fucked dumb with the joy of watching you get off.

The image makes your cunt clench around him that bit tighter, too excited and too overstimulated, you can’t help but come. Goosebumps prickle against his skin as your legs wrap tight around his head (and this maybe his other favorite part: holding his breath as you tremor above him.)

And then, they drop, your hips quivering and abdomen seizing as they try to handle your climax. Which might make him upset, if he weren’t busy coaxing you through it with long, wet, licks, one firm hand caressing your lower back as it convulses, the other speeding up as it furls and unfurls within you. Stringing it out just that bit more.

It’s more than enough for Soonyoung to finish, much more embarrassingly, in his pants against the duvet he’d so fervently been jerking over this whole time. 

He whimpers against your soaked cunt and the overstimulation makes you roll over, leaving him face up to your side, hand worming its way into yours.

“Fuck. If I miss my flight— fuck. you’re, ugh I can’t believe I let you— you’re so driving me to the airport.” your tone is directly contradicted by just how tight you squeeze his hand back.

He doesn’t say anything, trying real hard to hide the shit-eating grin on his face. Which only lasts as long as he can hold his laughter (about five seconds) and then he’s thrashing about as you shove him back and forth. 

“Asshole!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry baby, I just—“ 

“God, you suck—“ 

He turns over at that, resting his cheek on your stomach and looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Yea, baby. Yes I do.” 

penned by rowan, still a result of this insane video

[froggybells]

Sign of the Times (2)

part 1 —> here!!

Kyojuro Rengoku x wife!reader

a/n: guys i am so sorry i am so angsty lately and harry styles is also just stuck in my brain!!!! there is a spoiler warning in place and this chapter is a bit short. idk if a part 3 is needed but ive been thinking about this 😭😭😭

word count: <800

we can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here

The infinity castle was, well, infinite.

The stories passed down within your family really didn’t depict the magnitude of the situation.

Going into this battle, you had one thing in mind. Well, two things. Your son, who was nestled safely in the company of the former Flame Hashira. The old man grew into an amazing grandfather, after realizing the mistakes he made with his own children.

The other thought was of your husband.

‘What would Kyo say if he were here?’

In all honesty, you wanted nothing more to go home to your son. A living reminder of the beautiful life you once had.

So as you lay on the floor of the Infinity Castle after defeating Muzan, you look up to the ceiling.

You’re sure you can hear Tanjiro calling your name, or maybe it’s Giyuu? Definitely not Sanemi, as you two constantly clash. Then again, you have been getting along lately-

Your thoughts are stopped once you see a figure hovering over you.

The unmistakable yellow-red eyes and corresponding hair.

You blink once, twice, and a third time, yet he is still there.

Surely, you must be dead? Why else would he be here?

“K-Kyo?” You say as you sit up. You look around at the battlefield before you. Destruction is the best way to describe it. Observing the people in the distance who seem to be frozen in time, you turn your head back to your husband, standing there in all his glory.

“Kyojuro? Is this death?”

The man let out a hearty laugh. “No my dear, I’m afraid you aren’t ready for that yet!” You couldn’t stop the tears as they started flowing.

“I want to be ready! I want to be with you again!” Broken sobs come out of your mouth. “I know it’s selfish! I know our son is at home waiting for me! I don’t think I can do it without you, Kyojuro! I-I’m struggling so much and I need you to come back to me! Please come back to me!”

The man kneels forward, and gently places a calloused hand on your cheek. “My gorgeous flame. I understand what you are thinking. Your eyes meet, and for a fleeting moment, everything else seems to vanish. You lean into his hand and savor his warm touch, feeling as if he were really there with you.

“I’m so scared, Kyojuro.”

“Y/N,” you’re shocked by the sudden movement of him pulling you into his chest, “You are the bravest, and strongest fighter that I ever had the pleasure of knowing. You completed our goal, my flame. You kept the fires burning long enough to support your allies. And they are going to need you after this. Our son is going to need you.”

Having your ear up to his chest, you swear you can hear a faint heartbeat. “What about what I need?! You- You left me! Alone!” You began trying to escape his grasp, which only got tighter.

“And I will forever hold that burden, Y/N. It wasn’t an easy decision, but for our son to know his father died protecting others is enough closure for me.”

“Where is my closure?” You say, looking up at your husband. He smiles as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’m right here. I needed you to know how proud of you I am. Watching you play with our son and grow as a mother has made me swell with so much pride.” You sniffled into his uniform.

“Y/N. I am so grateful that you are the one to carry on my legacy. You have so much love to give in this world, and I will be waiting for you in the next one.”

Kyojuro finally let go, and stepped away from you.

“Be brave, and be strong. I know you can. And once your time comes, I will be there.”

“Please don’t go yet!” You scream, hand stretching out. He swiftly turns around and pulls your lips to his. His skin is just as warm as you remember it to be, and he rests his forehead on yours.

“It’s time for me to go. But remember my words, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you, even if you can’t see me.”

[tadpolesonalgae]

Throwing your shoe at them—headcanons

a/n: maybe had a little too much fun creating these scenarios, oops (again, thank you 🩰)

warnings: all round suggestiveness, hinted somnophilia w/ Eris, slight ‘enemies to loves’ vibes with Lucien

Azriel:

“The last time your legs were shaking this badly—”

“Don’t you dare.” You hiss, glaring up at him with fire blazing in your eyes from where you’re lying on the floor, downed by the exercises he put you through.

He crouches at your side, the heel of his palm pressed leisurely against his cheek, glancing down at you smugly, a glint in his hazel eyes.

“I thought you liked it when I pushed you over that edge,” he muses, that obnoxiously prideful look on his features.

Outrage pounds through your blood as you stare up at him with an open mouth.

He raises a provoking brow, a smirk curving his mouth. “Continuously.”

“You shut your mouth, Shadowsinger,” you snap, hands tightening into fists as you try to get to your feet. “I’m done for the day.”

He huff a low laugh, getting to his feet. “Five more. Then we can stop.”

He pauses, turning to glance at you over his shoulder, a smug grin on his mouth. “I could make you do more, if I wanted.”

The boot is off your foot and flying through the air before either of you can blink, and his shadows seem to intentionally dart away, allowing it to pass into his personal space.

Azriel catches it—barely in time—shooting a fed-up glance to his shadows, that has a spark of triumph lighting in your chest.

His attention switches to you, marking your expression, something hungry flitting through his gaze, wings flaring slightly at his back with male interest. Then his mouth curves at the edges, tossing the boot back, turning to stand beside you, again crouching down.

“Fine. You want to be a brat, that’s fine,” he murmurs lowly, having heat unspool in your lower abdomen. “But you’re doing ten more. Then I’ll really make your legs shake.”

Cassian:

“I think this one will look lovely,” Cassian remarks, holding up the red dress with a deep cut down the neckline that plunges to the base of your sternum.

“The colour won’t go with my earrings,” you reason, holding up the gold and emerald earrings you’d picked out for the night, appropriate for the dinner being held at Spring—making efforts to mend relations after centuries of unfriendly silence.

“I was thinking for me, actually,” Cassian counters, holding the lovely fabric up to himself, splaying out the skirts.

You pause, fingers poised to set the clip into your hair, before setting it down and turning to him. “Cassian…” you begin slowly, “I’m sure you’d look wonderful, but that was given to me by Mor, so you will not be getting your hands on it. You’d rip it to shreds.”

“Maybe if it was on you,” he returns lowly, eyes taking on a hungry gleam, dress lowering as his mind wanders elsewhere.

“Keep it to yourself,” you laugh, “we have a dinner to go to tonight, and I need to get ready.”

“I know something you could do a lipstick test on.”

You gape at him. “And where did that come from?”

“I listen to the things you talk about,” he counters, putting the dress aside as he walks over to you, sat prettily at your vanity. “I pay attention to every single word that comes from that lovely mouth of yours.”

You flush, something about his tone having heat warming your lower abdomen.

He smirks, leaning closer, bracing one hand on your vanity, the other on the back of your chair. “Every, filthy, word.”

Laughter breaks from your chest, grabbing one of the slippers you’d been trying to sew a pattern onto and throwing it at him. “I’m serious, Cass! I need to get ready. Don’t try to distract me.”

He chuckles, standing up, stepping back with a smile in his eyes. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding his hands up as he retreats. “I’ll let you get on with your routine.”

You roll your eyes, but return to the mirror, a smile warming your mouth.

“I’ll save the teasing for dinner.”

Eris:

Sunlight burns into your lids, and you groan, shoving your head under the pillow. “Eris please, I’m begging you to learn the concept of sleeping in,” you moan, pulling the cushion tighter as you snuggle beneath the duvet.

“If the sun’s up, so should you be,” he reminds, coming to a stop at the side of the bed, trying to pry the pillow from your clutched fingers, having to rip it away, making you whine, shying from the light.

“It’s not that bad,” he mutters fondly, pulling the duvet back and you make a show of shivering, his rosey lips cutting up faintly at the corners. “Maybe if you weren’t reading so late into the night this would be easier for you.”

You glare up at him, curling tight into a ball to preserve as much warmth as you can, rolling into the heat of the soft mattress. “Maybe if you didn’t get up so early you’d be able to stand late nights,” you grumble, finally getting up as he walks away.

“You know, early mornings wouldn’t be so awful if it was something else getting up with the sun,” you muse, legs swinging over the side, feet sliding into warm slippers.

“We both know you’d be drooling all over the place and half asleep,” he scoffs, back to you as he glances through your wardrobe.

You gasp, brows pulling together in an offended fashion, grabbing a slipper and launching it across the room, watching with distinct satisfaction as it smacks into the back of his head.

Eris pauses, as if registering what happened, before he glances over his shoulder, looking down at the shoe, then back to you. Unimpressed. “Am I wrong?”

You huff, folding your arms over your chest indignantly. “Maybe I’d like that…”

Eris stiffens, arms pausing as the confession slinks down his spine. “Maybe you’d like that,” he repeats quietly, taking a moment to comprehend.

Then he nods to himself, turning to peer at you over a broad shoulder, a mischievous gleam in his swirling amber eyes.

“Perhaps we’ll try that out…”

Lucien:

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say slightly tersely.

“He didn’t have to put his hand on your waist, either,” Lucien counters smoothly, but the tightness to his jaw belies his casual calm.

You look away, posture rigid as he walks you toward your chambers, escorting you politely. “I thought he was rather dashing,” you muse lightly, watching through your peripherals.

“Is that so?” He muses with equal lightness. “I think your standards should be raised. At least higher than a limbo bar.”

“Is that a hint of jealousy, Vanserra?” You remark, keeping your gaze off him as you open the door, allowing him entrance as you walk further into the room.

“Not in the slightest,” he drawls, though you can feel his gaze burning into your back. “Rather, I had assumed you were a lady of substance.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not quite able to keep the snappiness from your tone.

“If all it takes is a light touch to your waist to prepare you for bed…” he responds lowly, and you’re able to hear the smirk on his mouth.

“Finish that sentence, Vanserra,” you say sharply, turning to where he’s stood by the door. “I dare you.”

His lips quirk, gaze a little more intense than before, and a surprising heat blossoms across your skin as he practically strips you naked, his eyes sweeping over you.

“I think your mind will provide ample endings there,” he remarks lowly, the light catching on the sharp canines that have dragged over your shoulder.

You seethe, nails biting into your palms as you glare at him from across the room. “You should learn when to keep your mouth shut.”

“I think you enjoyed my mouth being open.”

The heel shoots across the room with such force it thuds against the swiftly closed doors, being thrown hard enough to almost lodge into the ornately carved wood.

You hear him chuckling in the hall, thighs pressing together at the delicious sound.

“If you’re in need of a reminder…” he calls through the door, and you throw the other shoe, this one indeed lodging in the wood, calling another low laugh from his chest as he at last leaves you to your own devices.

Leaving your blood boiling and a flustered heat over your cheeks, traitorous arousal warming between your things.

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[mythicmanuscripts]

This blog is now officially my favourite and I'm totally addicted to all your content on Aemond and Aegon.

There was a comment on how Aemond probably immediatly tries to fulfill all his wives wishes even if it wasn't serious (that one was mainly about killing people but anyways) and I was wondering if we could get some thoughts on a situation where he can't to that. Maybe they're travelling and she mentions how much she would love a hot bath or her own bed (without meaning anything by it) and he just can't do anything about it

I should have known that one of you lads would find a way to make that crack post serious and a little angsty. We love torturing men on this blog.

There is implied sub!aemond in this answer but no explicit thoughts so I won't be letting you all hide behind a cut, you know what you're getting into here!!

So for anyone who missed the ask this is referencing: I made a joke a while ago about how Aemond would reach a point where he's just no thoughts head empty do whatever pretty wife says. Aemond is a service sub through and through and he absolutely loves being able to do things for you. More than just like it, he takes extreme pride in it?

Not just because he's your submissive, but because he's also your husband. He needs to know he's being a good husband, that he's worthy of a wife like you and he gets genuinely distressed if he thinks he's disappointed you or angered you in any way.

When this specific thing happens, I like the idea of it maybe being when you're both travelling somewhere on Vhagar? Like maybe all the members of the royal family are expected to show their support for something all the way up at Winterfell. Most of them are all going by horse and carriage, but Aemond of course would take Vhagar and he asks if you'd like to join him. Aemond LOVES when it's just you, him and Vhagar and he absolutely adores flying and travelling with you. Plus, Vhagar loves you just as much because from the moment she met you she knew that you were so good for Aemond.

Anyway, the point is that you were able to instead go by comfortable horse and carriage, stopping at inns every day and being welcomed by all the common folk in the area. Instead, you chose to leave a week after everyone else with Aemond and to fly on Vhagar instead, which is only a three day journey because of how fast she is and how long she can fly for.

But those three days flying means that for two nights you're pretty much just camped out wherever Vhagar lands for the day. Right from the start Aemond offered to check the maps and find inns for both nights but you told him not to bother.

You know that Aemond will be uncomfortable staying in inns, especially because he's so recognisable and so he knows all the people in the area will want to speak with him. Forcing him to show up at Winterfell and show his public support for something he couldn't give less of a shit about is bad enough, he doesn't need to also be a roadside attraction for two nights.

More than just that, you know Aemond could really really do with three days of just you, him and Vhagar.

The first day of flying you don't even speak much. You're seated behind Aemond, your hands wrapped around his waist and it's just perfect.

When Vhagar lands for the night, you set up camp while Aemond checks around to ensure it's a safe place to spend the night.

When he comes back, you have everything set up and you make an offhanded comment that you miss your nice warm bed. You don't even think much of it and continue putting the twigs together for the fire. It's only once you have the fire going fully that you realise Aemond still hasn't come to sit with you and has instead stayed standing where he was when you made the comment.

You ask him what's wrong, and to your shock he's silent for a moment before he asks, "Do you not want to stay with me?"

You have no idea where that came from, and when you ask he says that you mentioned missing your bed. You can't help it, you have to laugh at your sweet husband. You motion for him to come sit with you and when he does, you link arms with him and lean against his shoulder.

"Of course I want to," you tell him, "it was just an offhanded comment, I love being here with you."

You can feel him relax a little, no longer sitting as straight and tense, but he's still not satisfied. He speaks up again, "I don't know what to do," he says, "I can't... I can't do anything about that."

You frown and lean more against him, pressing a kiss under his jaw and telling him that he doesn't need to do a thing. You promise him that you love being with him, and that you never would have agreed to come if you genuinely didnt want to sleep out here with him.

Even with that reassurance, he's still a little unsettled throughout the night, and you can see this by the way he tries even harder than usual to please you. He double and triple checks that you don't want anything, he folds your clothes himself, he offers you extra blankets, just does everything he can because he feels like he's failing you by not being able to make you comfortable.

You can see he's spiralling, and I actually think the best thing to do might be to give him a command? No amount of reassurance will help his brain relax, he needs to feel like he has done something good for you.

Maybe you just have him brush your hair for you? There's not much you can ask him to do in the middle of nowhere, so you grab your brush and ask him to take your braids out your hair and brush it through. He's so so gentle with it, really taking his time to ensure he doesn't pull you.

When he finishes you turn to face him and give him a kiss, thanking him for helping you and telling him how much you're loving being with him.

After you arrive at Winterfell, Aemond tells you that he never wants to travel another way with you again.

[maarslovesmonkees]

Love your writing already and excited for your future works :)

Would you be able to do a nsfw piece for possessive/jealous Noa x female reader with some marking/claiming?

\The Bite On Your Neck\

Hii thank you, that means so much😭🙏 Ouuu I love myself some jealousy from my ape men <3 I Hope you enjoy,:D 💞

Notes and warnings: Gender-neutral terms, Noa x Human!reader, Oneshot, NSFW, 1.2K words.

Noa wouldn't say he's a jealous man. He isn't the most confident in himself, sure but he does acknowledge his high status. No other ape would dare interfere with the bond you too share, s he never really had any thoughts to worry. Youve been part of the Eagle clan for more than a year now, or that's what you think. You don't really keep track of what day it is. Early winter is just settling in, and you were struggling as any other winter you've faced. Suddenly being insanely envious of the thick coat of fur the rest of the apes had. Over the past year, all the apes have warmed up to you, and have a good idea of echo customs; like freezing your ass off during winter.

You hang out with the sunset trio most days, specifically Noa, him being your mate and all. It was a surprising relationship blossom to say the least. Many were quite uncertain of how the relationship will turn out, but Anaya, Soona and Darr has always been supportive from the start and thats all that mattered to Noa.

You both try and spend as much time with eachother as possible whether is eating, sleeping, annoying him while he works with his owls etc. He loved spending quality time with you, just one on one.

—

“Help… with cold”, Anaya reached out a thick wool blanket for you to take. You took it gratefully wondering how he even got a hold of it. You quickly wrapped yourself around it, feeling bliss of the warmth it gave. You huddled close to the fire, as Anaya sat next to you. “Found when hunting”, He spoke as he chewed an apple, one of his favorite fruits. “Washed already…so not dirty”

“Thanks so much”, You smiled brightly at him. You then stretched your body, feeling the tension on your joints release as you’ve been huddled by the fire for a while. “I wish I had your fur so badly right night”, You whined.

You didn't notice Anaya not answering, as you felt hypnotized from the waves of the fire. You then felt a presence right behind you, then big furry arms go around your shoulders. You turned to see Anaya looking away, chewing his last piece of apple, seemingly nervous. Huffing a smile, you nuzzled up against your best friend.

“What it could feel…to have fur”, Anaya sat behind you, pressing his body against your back.

“You cuddle people for warmth a lot?”, I giggled and looked back to the mesmerizing fireplace.

“Not for warmth…Anaya likes cuddles”.

You felt your heart melt at your friends confession. You knew Anaya doesn't like being alone, and you felt a sort of pride being able to give him comfort. You were proud of the growth with your friendship with him, as he was very hesitant at the start, seeing his first echo and all. You became close friends with the goofball, seeing him as a brother.

A large thump of the ground, snap you out of your thoughts. On your left you saw Noa, staring at the fire irritaded, as Soona sat down right next to him, smiling at you.

Anaya let go of you, and proceeds to go and sit next to Soona. As the two talked, you shimmy your way next to your beloved boyfriend, snuggling close to him, resting your head on his broad shoulders. He put his arm around you, resting his head on to your, but you can tell he still seemed tense.

“Had a bad day?”, You sympathize with him as he's been doing quite a lot of errands for the elders. After his fathers passing, he has been held up doing a ton of eagle work.

He didn't answer, holding your body closer to him. Feeling the closeness gave you butterflies, then a great idea popped in your head.

You picked yourself up a little bit, then plopped down on his lap, resting your head on his chest. He took a second to react, but instantly put his arms around you, holding you nice and tight. He put his head down, nuzzling in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. You shivered from the tickling sensation, giggling again.

“Noaaa that tickles”, You chuckled at him but you gasped as your body froze when you felt his teeth on your skin. It wasn't a bite, more like a nibble.

Your heart was thumping out of your chest as you looked to your side. Anaya and Soona still seemed to be distracted on whatever conversation they were having. You felt Noa sink his teeth gently in your neck, then licking the teeth mark that lightly showed.

Noa can already smell your arousal and stopped, trying to avoid the others getting suspicious. Noa nodded to the direction of your nest and you quickly understood.

—

“Oh fuck”, your voice muffled from the pillow your face was buried in.

Noa hips clashing into yours, his thick hands on your waist keeping you steady. Feeling your walls moving tightly around his cock, Noa couldnt conceal his groans of pleasure. You gripped the ground under you, then try to prop yourself up, feeling your back aching from the pose.

As you lift you head up, Noas hand covered your mouth, and you didnt have enough time to react as he bite down hard between our neck and shoulder blade, drawing blood. You scream into his hand, tearing up as Noa took his mouth off, licking the blood clean off your shoulder.

“You...are mine”, He grunted, his throbbing cock still thrusting into your puffy hole. “Noa's mate only”, you can feel him kissing the bloody mark, then sucking your neck.

Your tears falling down your face, as you felt your pleasure building up in your stomach, as you felt youself squeeze around him. He groaned from the sudden tightness, sweat falling off his forehead, he pulled you up and he finally climaxed inside you.

You felt his warm pool of cum get burried deep inside you, causing you to reach your high. Noa wrapped his arms around your body, slowly thrusting to ride out his orgasm. You shook in his arms, trying to regulate your breathing as you felt your entire body feel fuzzy and warm.

You rested your head behind you on Noas shoulder, finally able to catch your breath, as Noa slow thrusting came to a stop. You both kept kneeling in that position for a minute until Noa carefully layed you down next to him. He pulled you close, been cautious of the big bite mark, not wanting to cause you anymore pain. You buried your face in his chest and finally exhaling. You felt your mate caressing your hair gently, and exhaled a smile. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

Noa looked at the artwork he made on your shoulder, feeling a sort of guilty pleasure forming around his stomach. He doesn't like hurting you, in fact he hastes it, but you were his and his alone. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help the feeling of possessiveness when anyone holds you close. Their face so close to your neck they seemed like they were about to mark you filled him with raging jealousy. Its time for everyone in the clan, including his best friend, to realize you're off limits. Youve been marked by Noa now, and your marked for life.

[marveloustimestwo]

Can you do yandere Aemond obsessed with his i maid, he tries to convince his mother so she let him married her and alicent is a platonic yandere for her too

Thank you for the request, anon!

Warnings: Yandere themes, allusions to Aegon's tendencies, this is very long when I did not intend it to be.

Aemond Targaryen is already quite a difficult yandere to deal with.

He has trouble dealing with his emotions, or rather, he instead chooses to ignore them completely until he no longer can.

Whatever anger, sadness, or undesirable issues he feels towards his family, himself, or others are stuffed away, which really only causes them to get worse.

The fact that you are a maid only adds to this issue.

Aegon already views him as weak, as someone undeserving of respect. While Aemond does not much care for what his brother thinks, the last thing he needs is to bring further shame unto himself in the eyes of others.

Aemond would often treat you coldly because of this. He wants to keep himself from falling more than he already has; he's already finding himself far more comfortable with you than he would like.

You're so warm, so sweet to him in a way that he hasn't received in years. The fact that he forces his emotions down makes them worse, yes, but his family dynamics also play a heavy role in why his obsession starts.

How he was treated by his father and brother is especially damaging, but it is also a big reason why he would seek reassurance, praise, and comfort from you.

If you were hired when you were both very young, you would be a crutch almost, a safe space for him to go to when Aegon insulted him or when he couldn't speak to his father.

Knowing Aemond from a young age would have made things better for both of you in all honesty.

While his obsessive tendencies would still be there, Aemond would be a lot softer than he would be if he met you later in life. The anger and the coldness he feels would've melted away years ago in your presence.

Granted, that same softness would not extend to others. He's still rather cold at best, and downright vicious to those who think they have the right to touch or even talk to you.

He's very possessive. Even when you're getting orders from those who are higher up have Aemond seething. Nothing is too little.

Aemond would ask for you to only be his maid early on. He hates the idea of others spending this sort of time with you, especially Aegon. He's heard of what his brother does to the servants, and he hardly needs you being subjected to that.

It also means that once you've done everything needed for the day, he can spend as much time as he wants with you (which is all the time, really.) If he had his way, you would stay in his room permanently.

He'd particularly enjoy reading with you or discussing topics from his books. Considering you're a maid, he'd take time to teach you how to read if you didn't know how.

Late at night when things are quiet, Aemond would also take you on flights with Vhagar. The dragon was his pride and joy, the same thing he spent so many years without, and lost an eye for.

Having the two things he cherishes the most in one place is something he holds dear. It would likely be during this that he would realize that he wanted to marry you.

At this rate, being years into his obsession, Aemond wouldn't really care what his brother thought. If Aegon really, truly had the gall to try and stop him, he could always use his prized dragon as a way to end the fight once and for all.

His mother, however, was a different ordeal. While they have their own unhealthy dynamic, Aemond has no true want to harm his mother and actually does care about what she thinks.

The one thing Aemond didn't expect was how accepting Alicent would be of this situation.

Going into it, he was preparing himself for a fight. He had a whole speech prepared about how he wanted to marry you, about how deep his love runs for you, and how there is nothing he would not do to make this happen. To him, fire and blood would be an easy path should all else fail.

A deeply dramatic speech that is met with Alicent's judgmental gaze, and a reply of "Did it truly take you this long to realize all of this?"

Alicent had noticed your presence as soon as you were assigned around any of her sons. At first, she gave you nothing more than a glance, far more concerned with other things than a simple maid.

It was when Aemond requested you as his personal maid that she actually saw you. Aemond in particular had become so unfriendly over the years, so it had surprised her to hear of this request.

She was even more surprised to see how attached he had become. Alicent had never seen him so friendly with anyone in years.

Looking into your life, it was hard for her to see what was so special at first. You came from a long line of servants, the majority of the women being maids, while the men were often cooks or stablehands.

Asking Aemond was like asking a brick wall. The answers he gave her consisted of the things she already knew. "She is my personal maid," or "She was assigned to others, I just so happened to request her personally."

With no explanation as to why. Only one comment actually seemed to give her anything.

"I have known her since I was a child, mother. Of course, I am fond of her."

A flippant remark, it seemed, at the end of another line of questions. Alicent even wondered at times if Aemond had realized what he said.

Speaking to you personally felt as though it were her only option.

At first, it had only made her more confused. You gave her all the answers she wanted, as she was the Queen, but to hear it from you felt strange.

If Aemond has threatened you to be around him, she might understand. She already had another son who harassed the servants. But to hear that you might actually enjoy Aemond's company? That he taught you to read, took you on dragon rides, actually talked to you about his thoughts and interests?

It practically gave her whiplash. Her immediate thought was that you might've been trying to squeeze something out of him. Private information, money, or god forbid, actually marrying her son to get a leg up in life.

Questioning Aemond on the matter would immediately have him snapping at her. He did not need his mother threatening what he has with you. Forcing you to stay away from him, having you take care of anyone else, or making you leave the castle entirely will have violent consequences.

So Alicent set to watching you and seeing why exactly her son liked you so much. And that is where her own obsession would begin.

When Aemond finally tells her that he plans to marry you, Alicent has been waiting for a least a year for this to happen. She's tired of him beating around the bush and is happy to do whatever she needs to make it happen.

As such, it takes a very short time for you to be married to Aemond. No matter what anyone else tried to say about it.

[moonstruckme]

Hiii!! Im really obsessed with your camp counsellor!james ,,, do you think you could do like a follow up of the previous one where they go to the bonfire tgt?? Love your writing and have a good day 🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! You have a good day too <3

cw: alcohol

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 897 words

James doesn’t know how much of your closeness to blame on booze. 

It feels a bit silly to be so loose and laughy at nine pm, but he and the other counselors only have until ten thirty before the kids get out of their movie night. James suspects some of them are going to have to take a quick dunk in the lake before they rejoin their campers. 

You’re not the least squiffy there, having had exactly as many beers as James but without the large frame to support them. You’re sitting close enough that your thigh is pressed to his on the wooden log, and when you gesture your arm brushes his bicep with every movement. 

“No, no,” you’re saying, laughter ringing in your tone, “James is the kids’ favorite. No contest.” 

“Ava’s cabin is huge, though,” another counselor argues. “She’s got kids that come back just to see her every year.” 

“Yeah, but it’s only James’ first year.” You don’t catch the bit of pique in the more seasoned counselor’s voice, defending your stance lightly. James, roasting marshmallows for the both of you, keeps his mouth shut. “If he comes back next year, he’d have kids fighting over his cabin for sure.” 

“I could never handle as many kids as Ava does, though,” James says, pulling the flaming marshmallows away from the fire and blowing them out. “Here, lovely, do you have your stuff ready?” 

The distraction works. You hold up your graham crackers and chocolate eagerly, capturing a marshmallow between them and pulling it off the stick. 

“Can’t believe you’re one of those people who just burns the whole thing,” you say. “I expected better from you, James.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were being beggars and choosers tonight.” He glances over as he readies his own s’more supplies, and you’re grinning, your eyes crackling with amusement and something else. “How do you like them done?” 

“I take my time with it, so the outsides are brown but the insides are all melted.” You take a bite, not seeming too displeased despite the subpar quality of his marshmallow roast. “It’s like a brûlée.” 

A laugh trips off James’ tongue. “Oh, it’s like a brûlée, is it? Fancy.” 

You hum in prideful affirmation, polishing off your s’more quickly. James tries not to look too obviously pleased when your head drops to his shoulder. 

He holds his s’more away from your hair, turning towards you to say lowly, “I appreciate the compliments, but you’re gonna get me in trouble. Some of the other counselors have been coming here for years.” 

You make a breathy sound of amusement. “I’m just telling the truth. Look at this.” 

You reach down and take his forearm in your hand. Warmth seems to emanate from your touch. James lets you bring his wrist up to eye level. 

“Basically every kid at camp wanted to make you a friendship bracelet,” you say before letting his arm drop. It lands in the crease between your thigh and James’. “They all love you.” 

Your head moves, face tipping back to look at him. You look really pretty. It’s hardly the first time James has noticed tonight, and certainly not unusual for you, but the firelight plays soft over your features and you’re smiling more than usual so he’s having an especially difficult time keeping his eyes off of you. Especially when you look at him like this, all sweet and happy with the light from the bonfire glancing across your eyes and your cheek squished into his shoulder. The sight of you makes James’ stomach ache. 

“You’re everybody’s favorite,” you murmur.

The conversation around you fades into an indistinct thrum. You’re so close James can count your eyelashes, can feel your warm breath hitting his chin. If he were to kiss you, he knows you’d taste like graham crackers and chocolate and marshmallows roasted not quite the way you like them. Maybe his lips would still be a little sticky with the same, unwilling to let you go. 

James really wants to kiss you. 

You take in a soft, quick inhale, and then your face turns back the way it was, looking towards the bonfire instead of up at him. 

“That’s how I know no one will get mad at you,” you say. “You’re too easy to love.” 

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” he replies. He reaches across you to finger the set of bracelets on your own wrist. “And maybe yourself not enough.” 

You make a dismissive sound, nudging James with your elbow. “You’re going to have to bring yours with you if you come back next year. If the kids see you without them, it’ll break their little hearts.” 

“Oh, I’m never taking these things off. Five hundred years from now, someone could dig up my grave and they’d just find a pile of bones and a bunch of string bracelets.” 

Your body shakes against his as you laugh. The sound of it is as bright and clear as the stars above your heads, and in James’ opinion thrice as lovely. 

“I’d be surprised if they last that long,” you say. “Hopefully they’re not the only thing you have to remember this place by.” 

James still wants to kiss you terribly. He appeases the urge by dropping his lips to your head. “No, I’m not worried about that.”

[sinsirellaxx]

Hello!could you write something for daemon targaryen x reader?

She is part of rhaenyras advisors and she is very cunning and smart, she also has a very private life and doesnt care for daemon in the slightess.

Daemon follows her one day to discover more about her and he finds her looking at a man and smiling to herself.

Now he can see all that he didnt before and how another has the love that he will never experience.

Nothing burns hotter than Dragon fire

Daemon Targaryen x Reader (well, not really – it's one-sided)

Warning: Not proofread.

There you were again, with that cunning smile and his niece on your tail following you around like a little duckling. He was used to everyone else following Rhaenyra around, drawing everyone in like moths to a flame. But you … you just had something special. Almost magical in the way you held yourself like a true Targaryen. Except you were not. This confused Daemon greatly you were always in the middle of thing – whenever there was laughter you were involved, whenever his niece went flying you were with her and whenever most people around your age needed help, they would easily be found next to you. You were not Targaryen, yet you held yourself with so much pride and grace one could easily mistake you for one.

At first, he hadn’t taken notice of you. You lacked everything he was looking for – those things mainly being Valyrian attributes. You were a well-mannered beauty, yet you seemed plain – but how would he know? The prince knew nothing about you.

The more the Rogue Prince saw you around his niece, the more he was able to observe you. To protect his niece – that’s what he would claim if anyone were to ask. If anyone dared to ask.

Spending more time with you proved to be rather difficult … for him. Your obvious lack of interest hurt his pride, he was a Targaryen Prince for fuck’s sake and yet you still never even spared him a glance.

How rude.

But instead of detesting you for your arrogance it made him desire you even more – he couldn’t stop thinking about you and that stupid melodious laugh of yours. After the realization hit him, he sought you and Rhaenyra out more and more. Sometimes he found his niece by herself and instead of being disappointed he’d use the chance to ask about you, but his niece was almost as cunning as you – she’d leave without answering and that provocative smirk on her face.

The first time he saw you alone in one of the corridors he considered himself lucky, his eyes lit up as he made his way towards you, but his face fell immediately when you nodded shortly at him as you walked past him. Everything in him had screamed at him to just grasp your hand but his pride did not let him. Instead, he clenched his fists as he forced himself to continue walking.

The first time he dreamed of you, was the one thing that drove him out of his shell. In his dream you had snuck into his room in the middle of the night, climbing into his bed, dressed in a satin robe. You had climbed onto his lab, straddling him with your warm, bare thighs as your fingers ghosted over his revealed chest. He could still feel your weight on him after he woke up – his stomach still tingled as if you had just removed your fingers, his cock throbbed when closed his eyes again, the images of you grinding down on him unfolding in front of him. When he opened his eyes again, he knew he had to have you.

What he hadn’t expected, however, was to find you smiling shyly at one of the Kings Guards, your small hand on the tall man’s shoulder. Daemon walked closer, his eyes fixated on the man as the Guard smiled warmly at you before walking away. The Targaryen prince watched you turn around to steal one last look at the man with a lovestruck smile on your face.

Well, fuck.

[murdrdocs]

ethan and reader get into an argument which ends with makeup/possessive sex?

i never rlly write things like this so this is new for me :) GN!reader

in his head, ethan believed he was the cause of the argument. he was still a little upset at you, of course, but he believed, deep down, that he started it. the entire walk back to your apartment, he kept telling himself that he shouldn't have let the argument spiral like that. you walked a few paces ahead of him, enough to keep a distance, but remaining close enough to him. and the entire way back, he so desperately wanted to catch up to you and put his hand in yours. but the fear of rejection kept him behind you.

he thought about what he was going to say, and each addition he made, he scrapped. the only thing he knew he should say, is: "i'm sorry i yelled at you", because that's what he did. he yelled at you. in front of your friends. all because he felt like you were being distant.

which, you were. and you should be the one to say sorry. but ethan is so afraid of losing you, that he will do anything that he has to.

and those thoughts is what led him to standing in the middle of your empty living room, his head hung and his chest tight.

he didn't think you wanted to see him, but you'd left the door open and he took it as a sign to follow you inside.

you're not saying anything, and he's not saying anything, and the air is so tense and your eyes and nose stings and ethan's throat hurts and he opens his mouth.

"i'm sorry that i've been distant, ethan," you speak before him, your voice low and soft. he lifts his head abruptly to look at you, and the roles are reversed. your head is low, staring at your hands which are intertwined between your spread legs. "i got it in my head that you didn't um..." it takes you a second, "that you didn't like me anymore and i thought it would be best to break it off slowly."

"what?" ethan's approaching you, falling to his knees so that you're forced to look at him. "this whole walk here i was terrified that i would lose you." your eyes soften when he says your name. "i love you so much. and i'm so sorry that i yelled at you in front of the others. i'm sorry i embarrassed you. i shouldn't of done that."

your hands cup ethans cheeks and you pull his lips to yours. he hesitates for a second, but then he's kissing you back, his hands settling atop your knees.

when he slides his grip up from your knees to your hips, you sink to the floor with him, making you way to straddling his lap where you finally settle.

you kiss each other as if you're dangling over a fire, heating up more and more until the flame warms you too much and you burn. which then, you have no choice but to shed layers until the burning of skin against skin is felt.

ethan kisses down the column of your throat, mumbling apologies as he goes down. it's not until he's at your heart that he looks up at you. "i'm sorry," he says, pressing a long kiss atop where the vital organ lays.

your hands smooth over his silky hair, resting at the back of his head before sliding down onto his bare shoulders. the bare skin of your knees rub into the scratchy carpet, and you really wished the A/C was fixed in your apartment, but the only discomfort you truly feel is the feeling of being upset with ethan.

but as he stares up at you, it melts away. "it's okay, e." you kiss his forehead. "'m sorry, too."

and ethan finally, finally, lets himself sink into you.

you're atop him, lowering yourself, but once he's sheathed inside of you completely, you're nothing but mush, leaving ethan to do all the work.

no matter. he takes pride in it. his hips move more fluidly than they ever have before, backed by confidence and love and admiration. you feel each emotion in the hard thrusts that rock you up against the rug which rubs against your back.

ethan has a hand around your waist, the other bawled into a fist so his forearm can anchor him. his head is hung again, but not in shame this time. it's so he can rest his forehead against your chest, where he mumbles small praises and presses kisses into your skin.

again, your hand finds the back of his head. just to keep him extra close.

[fan-goddess]

First Week Of School

Request: By @slytherincursebreaker for me to make a written version of this artwork that I highly recommend you go look at before reading! They never cease to amaze me with their work!

Summary: Penelope it seems has been using words she doesn’t fully understand…

Authors Note: As you can see I had too much fun writing about domestic Michael. But do I care? Nope!

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @slytherincursebreaker @tumblin-theworldaway

Warnings: Pregnancy, hormones, smutty talk, discussions of a sexual nature (if I miss any let me know!)

Michael Gavey never thought he would ever have kids, let alone a wife, or even a girlfriend at that. Yet that all changed when in his first class of his first year at Oxford, he met you. Granted, he’d been an absolute idiotic prat, as he himself had put it. Yet somehow you kept on coming back to hang out with him with a smile on your face.

Even when Oliver Quick abandoned him in the pub at the drop of a hat just so he could get five minutes of stupid Cattons time and attention like some kind of desperate puppy, you managed to sneak away from your much more popular friends and catch up with him while he was headed back to his accommodation. And when he asked why, you’d said it was all to ask if he was okay and wanted someone to talk to.

In all honesty It was probably the first moment is sort of clocked in Michael’s head that he liked you as more than a friend.

He somehow managed to keep hanging out with you rest of the school year. Even plucking up the courage from not even he knows where to ask you for your phone number so he could talk to you during the holidays when he’d be forced to go back to his parents house.

When the next school year came around in September though, it was with great pride when he practically peacocked his way back to campus with you on his arms and his virginity long gone behind him.

And by the end of Oxford, he had a ring in his pocket just waiting to be placed on your finger, which soon was done by the end of that year.

Years went by since Oxford though, and yours and his lives changed for the better as the two of you moved in together in a nice quaint flat and eventually did manage to get married. It hadn’t been a very big event as the both of you only invited just a handful of guests, and yet it was easily the happiest days of yours and his lives.

It had been an especially emotional time when somehow both of you managed to start ugly crying at each other’s speeches.

Yet you easily managed to outcry yourself when two weeks after coming back from your honeymoon in America, or more specifically after a spontaneous trip to the airplane cubicle, you found yourself sitting on the toilet while Michael was away at work with a pregnancy test in hand, and four more sitting on the edge of the bath saying the same thing.

Pregnant.

You’d tried to surprise Michael that same day after finding out by surprising him when he came back from work, but it didn’t help as the so called ‘baby brain’ managed to somehow hit early, and somehow at the near exact time when Michael was walking through the front door about to greet you, you were frantically trying to put out the fire that had miraculously started on the now charcoal bun you’d placed in the about an hour ago in the oven.

“What on earth is going on?!” You hear Michael shout, his voice confused as he watches from the doorway you frantically try to throw the charcoal lump into the sink.

“It wasn’t my fault!” You say practically on the verge of tears as you try to blink through the sudden onslaught of tears.

“Hey hey hey none of that!” Michael says, dropping his leather satchel as he moves closer to you so he can take you in his arms and kiss the top of your head, while rubbing a comfortingly warm hand on your back. “What’s the issue love?”

“I-I-“ You begin, somehow crying even harder at Michael’s warm embrace. “I wanted to surprise you! But I ruined it!”

“We all forget things sometimes love, doesn’t make you any less smart! Now, what is it you wanted to surprise me with?”

“I…” You pause, stepping away slightly so you could grab his hand previously on your back and place it on your belly. “I’m pregnant Michael.”

You could swear you could see the exact moment his mind went numb, and you honestly don’t think you’ve seen a better state of his. Other than when he’s been fucked out of his mind of course.

“Are you serious?” He eventually says, knocking himself out of his little trance to look you dead in your eyes.

“Yeah darling,” You smile, beginning to tear up again when you see your husbands face slowly turn into his own delighted grin. “We’re having a baby!”

“We’re having a baby!” Michael repeats, his voice breaking as his own tears start falling. Scratch what you thought earlier about outcrying yourself in the bathroom earlier today, within five seconds Michaels already managed to outdo you again.

Over the next few months Michael was attentive as he could be with work and all that, and yet you honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better. Even when the baby was being born in the delivery room, Michael was standing next to you with his hand in yours, and very much ugly crying.

“Michael, you aren’t the one giving birth!” You groan, glaring up at him while you continue to groan in pain. Still, your ever sarcastic husband gave his very much expected sarcastic response while you continued to crush his hand in your own.

Though by the next day, you were holding his and yours daughter in your arms. A girl you both agreed to name Penelope.

The years went by quickly with Penelope in yours and Michaels lives, and it was with great sadness when you realised you wouldn’t get your little one to welcome you both home with a smile on her face, as Penelope’s starting date for primary school came soon approaching.

“Can’t she just start next year?” Michael asks, getting into bed with you and kissing the side of your head before grabbing the physics book on his side table.

“If she starts next year, she’ll be older than all the kids there. You don’t want people to think she got held back do you?” You smile, using your husband’s own doubts about her against him as you pretend to focus on your own book.

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing at Michael’s little grumble he does out of the corner of your eye. You can’t see it, but you know for sure he’s got a little scrunched up glare on his face like he always does when he’s annoyed at something.

The next few days pass and Michael doesn’t bring up the idea of Penelope starting next year again. Though whether that’s fuelled by Michael’s fear of a held back daughter of something else you don’t know, as the first day of school soon approaches.

On the day however, everything starts smoothly as you make Penelope a healthy breakfast to get her through the day and make her a sufficient lunch box filled with food you’re pretty sure has the food she currently claims to like in.

Yet when you, Penelope and Michael get to the front gate of the school, that’s when the waterworks start. And it weren’t even started by Penelope nor yourself. In actuality it was Michael who began sniffling when your daughter walked into class for the first time all on her own, with her bright pink my little pony backpack strapped tight to her back paired with a bright smile on her face.

“Oh honey…” You sigh, putting your arms around him and tucking his head in the curve of your neck. It didn’t matter if his glasses were digging into your skin, or if his tears were leaving uncomfortable wet patches on your shirt. All that did matter was making sure Michael was feeling comforted and loved at that moment while other parents and children awkwardly stood around you.

“She’s not our little girl anymore…” He murmurs, his lips tickling your skin while his breath begins to slowly even out.

“She’ll always be our little girl Michael,” You say, kissing the top of his head before he moves away from you, his face a lovely shade of pink with embarrassment. “Whether she’s beginning primary school or finishing her A-levels, she will always be our little girl. Do you understand me?”

“Course I do you twit!” Michael says, rolling his eyes at not only you but at the mother he heard behind you gasp in shock at his little nickname, even when he most certainly knows he could’ve said a whole lot worse. Especially when he remembers the uni days and the whole range of vocabulary he used back then.

Still he ignores her as he grabs your hand to drag you back to the car so the two of you can go back home and get ready for work. And later that day when 3pm comes around, both you and Michael stand eagerly by the after school pick up point, with you watching with such fond eyes when you see Michael open his arms wide to give Penelope a big hug as she runs up to him, her own arms open as wide as they can go.

“Did you have a nice day sweetie?” You say, smiling as your daughter finally moves to look at you and give you your own small hug. Yet not as big of a one she gave Michael of course, as hell make sure to mention later on.

“Yeah mama!” She says, grinning loud and radiating pure joy as you and Michael lead her to the car with one of her hands in yours and the other in Michael’s. “I made lots new friends today!”

“Any boys?” Michael offhandedly asks, not really expecting an answer, but he certainly reacts like he was looking for one when your daughter actually answers with an enthusiastic yes and a handful of boy names. Totally oblivious to Michael’s genuinely horrified expression that makes you want to take out your phone and take a picture of it to make it your Home Screen picture.

“Well it’s a good thing you’ve made all these friends! Hasn’t it Michael?” You ask with a pointed stare and a harsh pinch to his leg after you’ve strapped in Penelope and got into the car together.

“Yeah yeah lots of friends I’m very proud of you sweetheart…” Michael says with gritted teeth, looking at you with his own glare telling you exactly what he thought of these new friends of your daughter. The topic of which he brought up again later that night, after eating dinner together, brushing teeth and getting into bed.

“I told you we should’ve let her wait another year…” Michael grumbles, glaring at the page of his book that he’d been on for the last ten minutes.

“And what would that simply achieve?” You ask him, turning the page of your own book. “It’s not like you’d be able to convince her cooties are real and to stay away from boys love, as the teachers would just intervene.”

“I could certainly try…” He simply says back, finally turning the page. You don’t engage with Michael anymore as you sigh while switching off your lamp and getting yourself comfortable between the sheets. Though before you shut your eyes you have to pull Michael down slightly to give him a deep loving kiss.

“Night love.” You say, shutting your eyes and acting oblivious to the flustered mess that is your husband sitting beside you. Yet when you hear his own shaky goodnight back you can’t help yourself from giggling slightly, before allowing sleep to take you.

The rest of the week though goes well, with a significantly less amount of tears from everyone while you drop Penelope off and pick her up from school. And by Friday, all three of you have managed to get yourselves in a good little routine.

“Now Michael, remember that I’ve got that meeting at work at 3 so I can’t pick up Penelope with you today!” You calmly say, focused on packing your daughter’s lunch box which according to her needs to have a cheesestring and a babybel so she can share with her friend Alex.

It’s adorable, so you allowed it almost instantly. Yet somehow it made it even better when you heard Michael two minutes after trying to interrogate your four year old daughter on whether Alex was a boy or a girl.

“Fine fine…” He groans, moving away with a roll of his eyes to kiss your forehead in a loving gesture. “And don’t worry love I’ll be fine on my own! Just as long as stupid Alex ain’t there…”

“Oh behave Michael!” You sternly say, your eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at his insistent worrying. “And besides. If you do this and behave, I’ll do that thing you like tonight with you. How about that?”

“Really?!” Michael asks, a mixture of surprise and arousal on his face. “Outfit and all?”

“Outfit and all.” You repeat, a sultry smile on your face as you kiss the corner of his mouth next to his lips and move away to grab the finished lunch box and place it in her backpack. “Penelope it’s time to go! Put your big girl shoes on please!”

“Yes mummy!” You can hear her say upstairs as she comes bolting down the stairs with an adorable smile on her face. The sound of which you assume knocks Michael from his little trance, as as soon as she comes down and starts putting her shoes on that’s when Michael comes from the direction of the kitchen with his own adorably bashful look on his face.

The rest of the day for Michael though goes great. As that morning with you he drops Penelope of at school, afterwards dropping you at your own work.

“I’ll see you later love.” He says, kissing you on the lips before you move to get out of the car.

“Oh I most certainly will baby.” You smirk back, making his stomach twist and turn in anticipation for later.

“Such a tease…” He murmurs, before starting the car and driving off to work. There weren’t many classes for the day, as by the time came for him to start driving to Penelopes school to get ready to pick her up, he’d already eaten lunch and popped into the bakery by his work to get her a little gingerbread man for an afterschool treat.

It was all going so well as he waited by the pick up area with the treat sitting in his coat pocket. That is however, before Penelope’s form teacher who he remembers meeting when originally toured around the school, came up to him and asked for a quick chat about something that happened today.

“What happened?! Did something happen to her?!” He frantically asked as soon as he walks inside the teachers empty classroom and sat in a chair opposite her desk.

“Oh no nothings happened to Penelope at all!” The teacher reassures, a comfortable smile on her face. “I do however want to discuss with you about some particular language that she used earlier today during break time on the playground.”

“Oh really?” Michael asks, curiousity on his face when he thinks about the words he and yourself try to use when around her. Though when the teacher begins to speak, pure and utter mortification is only what remains.

“From what I heard of the playground monitor on duty, Penelope was talking to one of her male classmates when she used what she herself called NFI. She explained the situation and the words involved in NFI quite graphically I must say…”

“Oh god I’m so sorry about this!” Michael groans, his head in his hands in an attempt to hide his bright red face of embarrassment.

“Oh please don’t be! I can understand that kids at this age are like sponges as they repeat whatever they hear their parents say and not know the meaning of the words at all. Myself and the teacher who’d been on duty have spoken to her about certain language and repeating what mummy and daddy have said, but I thought best to tell you as she’ll probably listen more to a parent than myself.”

“I will definitely have a discussion with her, and so will her mother too when she gets back from work.” Michael says, standing up and thanking the teacher for her time as he begins to leave the classroom. “Thank you for letting me know.”

When Michael exits the classroom Penelope is already sitting down on a chair opposite, staring at him with a smile on her face.

“Hi daddy!” She says, getting down from the chair to run up at him and give him a hug on his legs when he doesn’t reach down quick enough. “Where’s mummy?”

“Mummy’s at work sweetie, she said so this morning that she’ll see you later and is so sorry for not being here.” Michael says, now kneeling down to get to her eye level.

“It’s okay daddy! I forgive mummy!”

“Well I’m sure mummy is very grateful for that!” Michael says, pausing as he begins to help her put on her coat and continues on with what he was about to say. “Penelope your teacher told me you made a boy cry using NFI.”

“But he started it daddy! He’s a cu-“

“Loser!” Michael quickly interrupts, sternly staring at his daughter. “You can call him loser not that word... At least punch him I'll allow it since he's a loser...” He mumbles those last words, not expecting Penelope to hear him and actually listen.

Though that’s future Michaels problem when in two weeks he’s called into the headteachers office to talk about not encouraging violence…

The gingerbread man that is still in Michael’s pocket gets put in a cupboard soon as he and Penelope gets home while she’s busily distracted trying to put Bluey on the tv by herself. On a normal day he’d not allow it as a form of punishment, but even he can’t deny the enjoyment of those little Australian dogs…

There’s a reason why he sometimes calls Penelope his little muffin after all.

When you get back from work and give him a quick kiss, of course only after saying hi to Penelope who continues to sit watching tv, he can’t stop the words from spilling from his mouth.

“Penelope’s teacher talked to me after school. Apparently she’s been using NFI at break time and made a boy cry…” He says, watching about a hundred emotions go through your face. Though the one he least expects for you to settle on is amusement, as you begin laughing hard.

“She really is your daughter I suppose!” You laugh, practically crying as you wipe your eyes with the back of your hands. “Never thought she’d be showing this early!”

“Oh… bugger off!” Michael groans in mock frustration.

“Careful Mikey you know how impressionable she is!” You continue to laugh, practically red at how frustrated your husband now looks standing in front of you. Again, that little scrunched up expression evident on his face.

“There are so many words I want to call you right now…” He moans, stepping towards you with a dark look in his eyes that you can’t help but feel attracted to.

“Oh really?” You begin, smiling as you wipe the final onslaught of tears from your eyes. “Maybe you can tell me tonight? When we do that thing?”

“Oh is that still on the table?” Michael says, his mood a compete turn around as his face looks surprised and yet also thrilled. “I’d have thought-“

“Oh please baby. You really thought that since you were acting like a spoilt boy you wouldn’t be getting a reward? Well then I suppose it’s a good thing what will be happening tonight is not a reward for you then my love. But in fact a punishment. There will be no outfit anymore, no more of that thing you like for a long time. Do you understand that?”

“Yes ma’am…” Michael murmurs, his eyes dark and hooded as he bends his head down about to kiss you. That is however, before Penelope comes running round the corner with panic on her face.

“Mummy mummy mummy! Please don’t punish daddy! It was my fault!” Your daughter begs with genuine horror in her voice. “Pleeeeeeeease don’t punish him!”

“Oh no it’s okay baby!” You say, kneeling down to take her in your arms. “I’m not gonna actually punish daddy you don’t need to worry about him.”

“Do you promise?” She asks, looking at you with such an adorable pout on her face you honestly can’t think of anything cuter at that moment, even with the reasoning for it lingering in the back of your mind.

“I promise.” You say, bringing her in for a big hug while she burrows her head into your body and wraps her own smaller arms around you as tight as she can.

And as Penelope’s distracted, you make sure to wink at your still flustered husband and mouth three simple words at him that makes him somehow flush an even deeper shade of red.

Definitely a punishment.

[lowkeyrobin]

Headcanons for mcyt x reader doing a cooking/baking stream together??

I love your writing!!!

<3

ooooo okay okay!!! yes of course bro ; also thank you!! I appreciate it sm 🫶🫶🫶🫶

MCYT ; cooking/baking stream

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, grease fires

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you guys were making lasanga

Garfield jokes every five minutes

there's pasta sauce and cheese everywhere

he's constantly screaming to the viewers because you keep slapping him with the lasagna sheets, cooked or dry

"y/n! help! I'm being assaulted with lasagna sheets!"

he stained his shirt with pasta sauce 💀💀

almost set the house on fire bc he somehow left shit in the oven before preheating it

you turn on music halfway through and it turns into a karaoke stream

"CALIFORNIA GIRLS WERE UNFORGETTABLE-"

RANBOO

you were making soup because you found a good recipe you wanted to try

you accidently spilled the broth and covered your legs in it

he cut himself chopping up the celery (very minor cut dw)

"cooking stream? more like we injure ourselves for two hours stream"

"cooking stream? I hardly know her"

very chaotic but very good soup

during the intervals where you guys were just waiting for things to cook, you started a hashtag on Twitter to ask you guys stuff

and you answered them while keeping an eye on the food

afterwards you guys watch TV and eat your food while still streaming

"normalize eating on stream 2024!"

FREDDIE BADLINU

you were making breakfast for dinner on stream

you had to go use the bathroom while the bacon was cooking and left Freddie to tend to everything for less than a minute

and he started a grease fire.

after he got it extinguished he kinda just stood there waiting for you

meanwhile chat was exploding with panic and laughter

"Hey, y/n, I don't think we're having bacon tonight!"

"What the fuck happened???"

luckily no damage to anything other than the meat

the rest of it was really good though, and the stream had enough action for tonight 💀💀

NIKI NIHACHU

you guys were making cupcakes

you dropped like two eggs 💀💀💀 so while she was getting new ones you were cleaning up all the eggshell fragments and the insides

you got the camera to show stream your fucking mess and someone sent a dono saying "butterfingers ass"

the cackling after that 💀

you're able to get them into the oven though

and while you're waiting for them to cook, you watch dance moms and discuss everything wrong with it

commentary youtubers? I hardly know them

she begins making the icing while you pull the cupcakes out to let them cool

10/10 cupcakes they're amazing

you guys had a pride flag theme so lmao

ALEX QUACKITY

you were supposed to be making pancakes as a little challenge

his are literally raw and he put chocolate chips from the freezer straight in them

"that banana isn't gonna help anything"

"how do you know that??"

flour is everywhere. it looks like a war started

you put to much non-stick spray on the skillet and started a little fire

but Alex to the rescue dw

he couldn't even figure out how to use it and almost sprayed himself in the face!

goes on Twitter later to update that your kitchen was completely fine but the underneath of your microwave is a tiny bit melted

you blame him every time after that 💀💀

"my microwave melted a bit because you don't know how to use a fire extinguisher!"

"youre the one who used too much spray!"

chat always sides with you, too 😭😭

FOOLISH GAMERS

you thought making fried rice was a good idea? wrong

he literally has no idea what's happening

"can you make the scrambled eggs for me while I tend to the vegetables?"

"how many?"

"they're literally on the cabinet"

chat clipping every single funny moment too

"is the rice cooker even on? holy shit you left it on warm"

"I thought that meant it was on!"

"dude you've used this thing before, how long did it take for you to cook it?"

"like, forever"

"oh my god"

fried rice 10/10

he's complaining about the vegetables like he didn't have like two hours to say something about different veggies