#He just has the saddest look on his face always

[dwarvencraftsdirectfromorzammar]

me 1736912 years late to this match: punk! your ass is showing!

Paul Turner: i got you fam

[teddybeartoji]

im gnawing at puppy!satoru.... like pookie.... i didnt know I'd be obsessed with that.......... IM DESPERTLY WAITING FOR PUPPY!SATORU 😭 😭 😭

18+ mdni; gn!reader

puppy!satoru, who sits in front of your bed with the biggest and prettiest wide-eyes. tears pool in the corners of them, wetting his angelic eyelashes in the most beautiful way. a pretty baby blue collar hangs from his neck – it's tied to one of your desk's legs and it's the only thing that's keeping him from lunging at you. whimpers fall from his wet lips and drool dribbles down his chin; his tongue hangs from his mouth as he pants in desperation. he wants to taste, he wants to touch – but he's being punished right now.

he has been a bad pup.

a muzzle rests on his face, the straps sink into his soft flushed cheeks and you can already see the faint red marks that they're leaving on his perfect skin. you almost feel bad. almost. his hands are tied behind his back and he's completely at your mercy.

sitting down on his knees, he slightly bounces up and down on his legs just to get some relief. his tail thumps against the floor so hard that you can hear it. his fuzzy ears are bent back and he looks oh, so cute like this. they flop a little every time he raises his hips from the ground and you coo at him.

the sudden murmur makes them perk up again, his eyes growing even bigger than before. please, please, please. you grin at him from your place on your shared bed.

the thing he desires the most, the heaven that sits right between your legs, your soft thighs – it's exactly at his eye-level. this is pure torture.

he watches you touch yourself, play with yourself with slow movements; he can see the slick glistening on your sensitive skin and he'd do anything to lick you clean. he just wants to make you feel good! white tufts of hair fall in front of his eyes; they're starting to cling to his forehead from the way he's sweating. it's too hot in the room - he's not even wearing anything other than he stupid collar!

his rock hard cock bobs in the air, his balls twitching every time it hits his own lower belly. there's pre-cum smeared all over his happy trail and he's making such a big mess even without your help. your dirty pup...

another pretty little mewl tumbles from his swollen lips and he tugs harshly at his leash, but winces when it doesn't let up. a soft gasp followed by loud panting, his tail smacks against the floor. c'mon, he's being so good. he's so good for you. please, just let him taste you.

"does puppy wanna play, hm?"

his eyes roll back into his head at your sultry voice and he's nodding his head so strongly that he starts to feel a little dizzy. the collar around his neck only seems to be getting tighter and tighter, his airways getting blocked by his suffocating desire. a glob of pre-cum spills from his slit and it slides down the side of his shaft. he feels it. he imagines you wiping it off with your finger, with your mouth. he's so fucking hard.

his eyes are glued to your center – his least meal, his only solution to his unquenchable thirst. he wants to bury his nose into your crotch, he wants to breathe you in, he wants you to be the only thing on his mind.

(as if you aren't just that already.)

more. he needs more.

the silk ropes around his wrist dig into him, and even those just seem to be getting tighter by the second. he can't stop moving around, he can't sit still – he's the one that's making it worse. it hurts.

he likes it.

satoru's glassy eyes follow your free hand as it trails all over your thigh and your stomach and he can't surpress the saddest little whine that crawls up his throat. your lips stretch into a wide grin while raising your hand to play with your nipple. your other hand stays playing with yourself, filling the room with the slick delicious sounds.

you watch him lick his lips, you watch him pant, you watch him yank at the collar again – he's like a magnet, drawn to you always and forever.

he humps the air and a tear falls from the corner of his eye.

"aww... you crying, puppy?" voice far from sincere, his cock twitches. your teeth sink into your lower lip and your eyebrows furrow in a fake, mocking expression. "oh, you poor thing..."

his sharp fangs glimmer in the low lights of the room. "please..."

his tail swishes behind him, he can't help himself. he has no control over his own body.

"please what, baby?"

"taste, please, can i have a taste?"

you laugh at his neediness and you hear the little metal parts of his collar cling together. he's getting impatient now. "i don't know... can you?"

pushing yourself off your back, you crawl over to your pup. he's sitting so pretty, harboring a big aching mess between his legs. you reward him with another teasing coo as you situate yourself on the edge of the bed – close enough for him to drown in your scent but far enough to shed another miserable tear.

his eyes fall shut as he lets you properly fill his nostrils, all of his senses. a shiver runs down his spine when he feels your fingers on the side of his face and his pretty blues snap open in an instant. he's staring up at you – hungry and eager to please, ready to take whatever you'll give him—

—ready to give whatever you'll take.

you push his head back a little, tilting his head so he's getting a good look at you. in this position, you tower over him so easily and he feels like putty in your hands. combing through his hair, you scratch right behind his ear and watch him lean into your touch with hearts in your eyes.

but then you tug on his white strands, intoxicated by the smallest sounds that keep falling from him. forcing him to keep his gaze on you, you widen your legs in front of him. it's so, so hard for him to obey you, to be good, when it's right there. his lip wobbles behind the restriction and another quiet plea echoes the room.

"are you gonna behave, puppy?"

"yes." the speed at which he answers is almost ridiculous, but you can't tease him for it. not when your own stomach fills with butterflies aswell. you want him just as much.

loosing the grip in his hair, you let him slowly sink toward your center; he keeps his eyes on you, not daring to look away for even a second. the scent is so strong now, his balls twitch as pre-cum dribbles down them. just another inch, just a little more. he's right there. right fucking there.

the muzzle barely bumps against your crotch and eyes fall shut with a dramatic sigh. his ears flop down so fucking cutely; he's literally a breath away but the damn thing is in his way, it's ruining him, it's killing him. and to add to that, it seems like the collar is just about an inch too short aswell because there's a big vein running on the side of his neck – a clear sign of him not getting enough air.

but he doesn't pull away. his tail thumps, it never stopped. he bounces on his heel and tilts his head to meet your gaze again. he rests his cheek on against your thigh and you take the second to admire the mess he's made already. his skin is all flushed, from his chest and up to the tips of his ears; red markings peek from behind the straps of the muzzle – the contrast between those and his marble skin is just exceptional.

drool trickles through the miniature cage and straight down onto your thigh but you don't mind. he looks absolutely fucked out like this. you allow yourself to card through his hair again, unable to keep your hands off of him for more than two minutes and he hums at your soft touch.

"such a cute, pup, hm?"

you cradle his jaw as best as you can and hold his face to yours again before leaning down and pressing a kiss onto the muzzle, just above where his nose would be. and then another to the side of the thing. he squirms in your hold, overwhelmed by your sudden touches. he feels like he's going to melt into a puddle when you press the next one to his jaw.

he can smell your arousal. it's... so fucking good. he hums as he tries to nuzzle further into you. all he can think about is filling you up and giving you his knot. c'mon, he's been so, soooo good... he deserves it, right?

you will let him breed you, right? you're gonna let him have a taste? gonna let him pump you full? gonna let him give you his knot?

right?

+ @staryukis & @ohimsummer hiiiiiiii guuuyss.... puppyboy!satoru on my mind so i just had to tag you two too hehehehe:333

[softtdaisy]

🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.” 

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

[lovebugism]

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic december 25, ideology, 449 words

James is in the middle of writing times tables on the board when Evelyn says, “Mr Potter! You have a visitor.”

He glances to the door of his classroom, trying to hide his smile when he finds Regulus leaning in the doorway watching him. “Oh, good afternoon, Mr Black. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I was just wondering if you had any laminating sheets I could borrow? I’m out,” Regulus says.

James doesn’t point out that there was no need for Regulus to cross campus to his second grade classroom just for laminating sheets; he’s pretty certain the senior school has laminators. But he’s not mad about the interruption.

“Yeah of course, they’re in my office,” he says, gesturing to the door at the back of the room. A little pointless; Regulus is not a stranger in James’ classroom and knows exactly where his office is. “Help yourself.”

The entire class, James included, watches Regulus as he crosses the room, only returning to their lesson once Regulus has left the classroom with a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Mr Potter,” Bernie calls out. “Do you have a crush on Mr Black?”

James deliberates for a moment, before sitting on the edge of his desk and whispering, “I do. But it’s a secret, so you can’t tell anyone.”

The class breaks out in a chorus of giggling ooh’s and teasing aah’s.

“But Mr Potter, he always looks so serious!”

“Well, Roland. That’s because Mr Black teaches boring things like civics and political ideology.”

“You mean he doesn’t get to do any arts and crafts?” Lizzie asks, a horrified look on her face.

James shakes his head, putting on his saddest expression as he says, “Never.”

The kids become a bit obsessed with Regulus after that, asking about him almost daily, breaking into a chorus of giggles any time Regulus comes by the classroom. Regulus has clearly caught on, dropping by more and more frequently, asking to borrow anything from a stapler to sometimes something as ridiculous as a piece of paper.

One day, just as Regulus is about to walk out of the classroom with a wave, Lacey calls out, “Mr Black! Do you have a crush on Mr Potter?”

He stops in the doorway, corner of his lips lifted in a smirk as he replies, “Why do you ask that?”

“Because he has a crush on you, obviously.”

James buries his face in his hands for a moment, shoulders shaking with laughter, looking up as Regulus says, “Oh, I definitely have a crush on him, that’s why I married him.”

He’s pretty sure the entire school would be able to hear the way his classroom screams and cheers in celebration.

[imyourbratzdoll]

May i request a fic with a plus size reader and beefy beefy ari.

back story :So tr has always been made fun of because of their weight so as tr got older they got self conscious about their body.

One day the reader was sitting on like the couch and ari had dropped his phone under and he need to move the couch to grab it so he didn’t and while he was pushing it tr thought it sounded like he was struggling punching the couch because they were on it. (you can add more to this part or whatever you’d like suga) so as the week go one tr always hurry to like move when are drops stuff under couches or they always refuse ari to push their chair in or stuff like picking them up to grab something off the counter. ari start to realize and confront tr , tr tell ari and maybe add smut or soft smut or cuddling up to you.

( this was kinda just like the spine of the request you can added anything or remove anything. ps ily and you blog 😘🫶🏼)

hey baby, I love you too! I hope you like this. this is my second plus size fic, I hope I did a good job at it, and also, remember you are all beautiful, no matter what size, shape, look, etc.

summary - you become self-conscious after your boyfriend does something, causing him to let you know how much he loves you.

warning - angst, self-doubt, body shaming.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You didn’t know how the day would turn out. When your boyfriend dropped his phone, you had thought he’d ask you to move or get on his hands and knees to try and get it. You weren’t expecting him to lift the whole couch with you still on it, and tears are brought to your eyes as he grunts. You would’ve moved if he had asked. You didn’t want to cause him harm. When Ari gently drops the couch to the ground, he tucks his phone into his pants and smiles at you softly. His hand comes up, and he brushes his hair back, sits next to you and gets a movie ready.

Days went by, and every time Ari would try and move something that you were on top of or push you in. You’d quickly jump up and move out of his way or pull the seat in yourself. You knew you were pushing it when Ari asked you on a date and then asked you to be his girlfriend. Ari was out of your league. You knew it. Everyone knew it. It was only a matter of time before he realised he could get someone better, someone thinner. You didn’t miss how his coworkers hung off of him and how he didn’t push them away, or the women that lived on your street, or any female in the world that you came across. They all looked at you like you were a problem, wondering how someone like him could want someone like you.

You had begun to pull away from Ari, hiding your body more, not wanting to get in his way or become a burden. Now, Ari wasn’t small. He was practically a giant, and he was bigger than you. But still, you were sure he would benefit from having someone better than you, someone who could do the things he does without having to feel self-conscious or hide their body. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Ari starting to put the pieces together and realise something was wrong. He watched you, catching that you had been covering up more, distancing yourself from him. 

Ari walks over, clearing his throat. “Baby, why are you avoiding me?” You wouldn’t expect a man his size to have the saddest eyes or the softest expression as he stares down at you. He missed when you’d let him hold you, missed you.

You blink and squirm in your seat. Opening and closing your mouth as you try and come up with an explanation, not expecting Ari to notice, but then again. Ari was very observant and caring, and he wouldn’t let you be upset by yourself. “I, uh… I just don’t want to be a burden… Especially when it comes to you lifting things or pushing things in while I’m on it.” You squeak as Ari tackles you into the couch, gripping your face in his hands.

“Baby, you know I don’t care about your weight, and you aren’t even heavy! I’m guessing you’re referring to the day I lifted the couch to grab my phone?” You nod, trying to avoid his eyes until he squeezes your cheeks. “I didn’t grunt because you were on it. I grunted 'cause I saw up your dress while I was doing it and realised I had to be careful not to drop the damn thing.” You stare at him with wide eyes. “That’s not the only thing, is it? There’s more.” 

You whimper, feeling tears form as you shake your head. “I–I… Why are you with me, Ari? Why me and not the women who want you? I’ve seen how you enjoy their attention. Why me?” Ari can feel his heartbreak and tears well in his eyes at your words, wondering what he had done wrong for you to think that. 

“Oh, baby.” He buries his face into your neck, holding you close. “You’re so special, so much better than any other woman. I barely pay attention to them, trust me. My mind is always on you. I love you too much to want someone else.” He presses a bruising kiss to your lips, a few tears slipping.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[talaok]

hi!! it says in your desc that requests are open but in case thats outdated feel free to ignore!!!!

i know this may be a weird request but can you do something with joel with a reader that has scarring in their pubic area? i have a skin disorder that gives me really bad scars down there and i have Not had great experiences in the past sleeping with people because of it like it is TRAUMATIC atp to show people 😭 mostly hurt/comfort but if it makes sense to throw smut in there feel free i absolutely would not turn it down LMAOOOO

and shout out to people w scarring down there, whether from skin issues, fgm, assault, etc. etc. we up fr 😔✊

Warnings: insecurity, body image issues and smut | oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: its not a weird request at all, ive said this before, i feel incredibly honored whenever you ask me to write such personal stories, so thank you 💖

His hands were beneath your shirt, his calloused fingers caressing your skin with a gentleness that defied his rough exterior, that he only showed a few.

His mouth was on yours, his tongue twisting with your own, letting you taste him as he tasted you.

Your hands were on his face, holding it, stroaking his beard, trailing to his hair, while one of his legs parted your legs, settling between your thighs.

Your back was on the bed, the soft duvet shuffling beneath your movements, beneath your exited shivers and shudders.

It all was perfect, just perfect... until his fingers traveled lower, until they began seeping underneath your shorts.

"wait"

His eyes opened as he leaned away ever so little

"I'm sorry" he said, retracting his hand "I thought you wanted to..."

"I do" you murmured "I just-"

And there it was, the block.

The barrier, the wall you had built brick by brick over the years.

"what?" he asked, his brows knitting together in concern as he moved to your side, propping his elbow on the mattress "What is it?"

"Well I- I don't know if... you want to"

"what?" he huffed a soft laugh, "of course I want you"

"yeah now" you sighed, avoiding his eyes, 

"y/n" he called your name, urging you to look at him with two of his fingers beneath your chin "What are you talking about?"

"I just-" you bit your lip, your eyes trembling, taking in the look of him before he knew the truth, 

"Whatever it is baby, you can tell me"

And the saddest part was that you wanted to believe him, but a part of you knew, you knew how he was gonna react, you knew how it was really gonna go.

As kind and nice and perfect as he was, you got proven times and times again that there was only one way men would respond.

"I- Well I..." 

god, why was it always so hard?

"I have a skin issue" you spat out, forcing yourself to not think about it too much 

"ok..." he murmured, his eyes scanning your face in the hopes of finding out where you were going with this

"so I have...scars" you breathed "down there"

You swore you felt your heart drop as the words left your mouth, just to speed back up at full force the moment he spoke, after a brief silence.

"oh" he hummed, his eyes still fogged with confusion "and so I can't like... touch you or-"

"no no, you can-" you sighed, frustrated with yourself "but I understand if you don't... want to." you explained "I've been told before that it's not really... pretty so I totally get it if yo-"

"first of all" he shook his head, getting out of his confusional state at your words "Whoever told you that is a brainless asshole" he stated, looking you straight in the eyes "And second of all" he smiled now "darlin', you're the most beautiful, hottest woman I've ever met, I almost died when I met you" he exaggerated making you stifle a laugh

"no I'm serious." he promised, taking your hand in his "And if you think that that's gonna change because of a few scars, well then sweetheart I'm sorry but you're wrong"

And although your heart was swelling with hope, with a joy it hadn't known for a while now, your brain couldn't still be sure of what was happening

"you're saying that now" you whispered "but you haven't seen it yet"

"darlin', I promise on whatever you want, that I'm sure" A soft smile was still pulling at his lips, and his voice was warm, honest, like honey "That nothing in this world could ever change what I know, and what I know is that you're the most gorgeous woman on the planet,"

"but-"

"no, no but" he shook his head, interrupting you "You are, and the fact that you don't think so is unbelievable" his eyes were shining, glimmering with that sentiment you still hadn't confessed to each other, but that he'd been on the verge of expressing far too many times "I want you to say it. Say -I'm the most beautiful woman on the planet-"

"but I'm n-"

"ah-ah-ah" he shushed you "What did I say about the buts"

"But I'm just saying think about Jennifer Aniston or Sandra Bullock-"

"yeah exactly, they're nothing compared to you"

You couldn't help but snort at that "Oh please, you're just lying now"

"I'm most definitely not" he protested, "have you seen yourself in the mirror darlin'?"

"I have" you rolled your eyes jokingly, your lips still turned upwards into a smile

"you sure? 'cause it doesn't feel like it"

"stop" you begged

"No, I won't stop" he frowned "you're beautiful, I need you to know that." his forehead fell to yours "Whoever made you feel any differently was just an insecure stupid asshole who didn't deserve you, ok?"

And it was at this moment, that you realized just how how much you loved him.

It was as you took his words in, the truth in them, the care behind them, that you realized that he might just be the one.

"ok" you murmured, after some time, for the first time in a long time, actually believing it.

"yeah?"

"yes"

"that's my girl" he grinned, not being able to stop himself before he crashed his lips with yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

And with just a kiss, you were back at where you'd stopped, your belly tingling and your body desperately looking for his.

"Joel" you whispered, in between kisses "I-I want to"

His eyes opened, looking a bit taken aback "You sure? I didn't want to put any pressure on you sweetheart, I'm completely ok with just kissing if that's what you want-"

"no" you shook your head "No I want you"

The smile that spread on his face at that was enormous.

he kissed you again, just to start a slow trail of kisses down your neck, making you squirm and whimper underneath him.

He waited for your nod of approval before removing your shirt, and after having reserved time to your (as he put it) "perfect tits", he then moved on to your shorts, now waiting for a vocal permission before doing anything.

"You can take them off" you murmured, watching closely as he did, slowly slipping your shorts and then panties down your legs.

"Jesus Christ sweetheart" he breathed "you're fucking perfect"

And you could only blush and smile shily, not realizing what was happening, until his head was between your thighs, beginning a line of pecks from your navel down toward... well towards down there.

"no y-you don't have to do that"

He didn't seem to hear you, his mouth only traveling lower and lower until it was right there where you needed him the most.

"does it hurt if I touch them?"

"n-no" you stuttered

He licked his lips, his eyes not on yours, but on your pretty cunt 

"and if I kiss them?"

"I-I don't know, I don't think s-"

And just like that, he had dived in, fist slowly kissing your skin, paying no mind if it included scars or not, just to start tasting your whole pussy, licking and sucking all he could find like a starved animal.

His grip on your waist was relentless, probably leaving bruises behind, but all you could do was lose yourself in the feeling as you moaned and arched your back from the bed.

he continued his work for a while, prolonging the experience as long as possible, before he decided to bring it home, and started focusing on your clit, sucking and licking your bud desperately.

And in a matter of seconds, you had fallen apart, moaning his name loud enough for his neighbors to hear.

"wow" you breathed, your chest rising and falling way too quickly as made his way back up again "That was... wow" you murmured, ghosting his lips

"I just wanted to prove to you how beautiful you are" he smiled, kissing you softly "All of you"

[donutz]

Dogday x reader fluff alphabet[2/8]

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

Affection(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— VERY. One hug per day keeps the sadness away, he says.

— A hug, a kiss, hand holding, pats, scratches, laying on each other, slight brushes against each other, anything that has to do with touch he will love ^_^

— Loves showing any kind of affection, as long as you like it, he’ll do it

— His long language is definitely physical touch

— Plus he’s a dog! Dog’s love touch, most of the time!

Best friend(How would they be as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— THE BEST FRIEND.

— He would cheer you up on your worst days!

— But if he can’t, he would try to communicate with you verbally or not

— “You don’t wanna talk?”

— You nod

— “That’s okay. Do you mean like speak out or..?”

— You nod

— “Oh ok! Uh, would it be okay if you talked on paper or do you just wanna be left alone?”

— And then it would go from there

— It would start with him talking to you first!

— He’d try to interact with you in many ways

— Wanna help with the kids? You wanna carry these boxes? Put away the toys? Anything to include you in it!

Cuddles(Do they cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— Cuddle master

— Almost always cuddling, or some type of touch

— Especially if you're sad

— When you both are sleeping, you guys are always right next to each other

— If there are times that you don't want to, that's fine!

— But if it goes on for long he'll get a little sad :(

— And then he becomes touch starved

Domestic(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— Dogday doesn't mind settling down, but he really likes playing around

— Like going ‘outside’

— He's wanted to see the outside for a long time.

— I'd think he'd be really good at cooking!

— Baking, not so much

— He's so quick with cleaning, I swear he can mop the floor of a mansion in 5 minutes 

— He also loves cleaning!!

Ending(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— Uhhhh

— Uhhhhhhh😅😅

— 100% wouldn't do it himself

— It has to be for a really good reason

— His ears would be down, tail sunk to the floor, and have the saddest look on his face

— “... Angel, I need space.”

— And then he speeds away

Fiance(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— Idk about commitment..

— I have no idea what Dogday's age is

— But if he's minor, like I said for the Catnap fluff alphabet, in the kiddy way, he wouldn't mind what time you'd want to get ‘married

— It's up to you!

Gentle(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— He's very gentle!

— Very extroverted, but gentle

— When it comes to giving hugs, he squeezes but never too hard!

— He is also very gentle when it comes to emotions

— You're sad? He'll listen or be with you, you're angry? He'd listen too! If you want, you just wanna be mad at him? That's fine! He'll only take action if you start hurting him or people(or toys)

Hugs(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— Y'all already KNOW!!!

— Hugs, at least one per day

— They are sooo comforting, especially since he has his vanilla scent

— Whenever you hug him first, he gets SOOO HAPPY.

— Tail wagging, widest smile, he's loving every second of it

I love you(How fast do they say the L-word?)

— “I love you Angel!” Out of nowhere

— It catches you off guard, a lot

— One time all the critters were playing truth or dare

— And KickinChicken said, “Dogday! I dare you to say I love you to our lovely sheep!!”

— “I LOVE YOU.”

— Everybody went silent and then Dogday started up the game again

Jealousy(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

— He rarely gets jealous, it's barely ever happens

— The only way he could if someone's getting WAYYY too touchy

— “Hello! Could you give us a sec?”

— Then he takes you and goes wherever that's not near the person

Kisses(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— Very loving and lovely

— You can tell he puts so much love into his kisses

— He likes kissing you on the forehead and cheek

— He tells(asks) you to close your eyes when he gives you forehead kisses

— He doesn't want you to be terrified at the darkness you'll see

— Would love receiving kisses anywhere

— Secretly would love getting kisses on his ears

Little ones(How are they around children?)

— Not in the making kids way, by the way I'm going to make fluff alphabets of all the critters

— And for the little ones section it will never be about having kids with the critters

— But as he does, taking care of the orphans, he is fantastic at taking care of them!

— He’s the one to cheer them up! The one who’d play games with them! The one who’d give them bandaids whenever they got hurt!

— 10/10 babysitter

Morning(How are mornings spent with them?)

— “Good morning Angel!”

— Every day.

— He usually asks if you slept well or if you had any dreams, or (hopefully not) nightmares

Night(How are nights spent with them?)

— Absolute cuddle bug

— If someone were to see you two he’d get pretty embarrassed

— If you’re not sleeping on top of each other, you’re holding hands at least

— He also says, “Goodnight Angel! Have sweet dreams!”

— And yes, it’s every time you two have to go to bed

Open(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

— He would, only if you asked him to

— Sometimes he brings up personal stuff without realizing it

— Then he goes, “Anyways!” or, “Nevermind!”

— It’s really concerning

— He’d reveal things slowly but surely

— He’d be really nervous talking about it though

Patience(How easily angered are they?)

— He barely gets angry at you!

— Most likely will never get mad at you

— He has never gotten mad at you.

— He will never get mad at you ^_^

Quizzes(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

— Remembers almost everything

— Sometimes he can forget

— But he always remembers the important things(in his words)

— He does remember the smaller details too!

— But he sometimes forgets

— He makes notes just in case so he doesn’t forget

Remember(What is their favorite moment in the relationship?)

— His favorite moment was when you gave him a big hug after he got his legs back

Security(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— He isn’t scary protective but he can be protective

— Like hero protective

— “Don’t worry Angel! I got this!” head ahh

— He’d protect you in any way he could! But if it gets physical he tries to calm down the situation

— He’d use his body and hold his arms out, like how a little kid does it when protecting their friend or something

Try(How much efforts would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— Too much effort

— Jk jk!!

— He puts in as much effort as he can

— ‘Dates’ go however you want them to go!

— It’s your choice! Unless you really can’t or don’t want to then he’ll do it himself! No worries!

— “It’s our anniversary!”

— “:O”

— “I know right?! I’m so happy!”

— Puts so much effort and love into his gifts, it’s usually your favorite things

— On Valentines day he gave you a box of chocolates

— Obviously, he’d put a lot of effort into everyday tasks

Ugly(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— Honestly it depends on how you think, because if you find it annoying when someones happy all the time, or you can tell when someone is trying to constantly trying to cheer you up and you find it annoying then yeah

— It’s not an ugly habit but it depends on how you think

Vanity(How concerned are they with their looks?)

— I do not give one fuck, two fuck, red fuck, blue fuck, yellow fuck ^_^

Whole(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— Yes.

Xtra(A random headcanon for them.)

— Whenever he sees you he gets very happy

— His tail starts wagging and his eyes light up

Yuck(What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

— Nothing! He loves you!

— As long as you’re not truly negative, as in you mean what you say if you insult him or something

Zzz(What is a sleep habit of there's?)

— Probably snores, very loud, every time.

— But you always wake up with him on you or right next to you so I guess that defeats his snoring

[pray4byron]

Request: You know that scene from The Show must go on with Charlie and Vaggie singing the reprise of "More Than Anything" On the night before the battle? Well can you do that but with Husk and his s/o with the two either singing or talking about how much has happened but they’ll always stand by each other’s side even if they’re freaking terrified about the outcome of it all and saying the word “I love you” for the first time in the process

ofc i can do that!! this is so cute and husk has my heart so haha

Warnings: Reader basically takes Angel’s place in this, Mentions of Drinking, Mentions of Death, Mentions of War

“More Than Anything”

“I guess you really have changed.” Husk said, giving you a soft smile.

“Hey.. Charlie said we could live tonight however we wanted.” You started, smiling back at him, “So pour me a fresh one, and let’s get to living!”

You watched as Husk crossed over to the other side of the bar to prepare your drink, you let out a dreamily sigh that felt like it was being held in forever.

Husk had only entered your life a few mere months ago, but you don’t think you’ve ever cared for someone so…lovingly.

Truth be told, you didn’t know how far this would go, if he even felt the same, hell, if you both even survived tomorrow. But you didn’t care.

When you were with Husk, it felt like you could be the weirdest, saddest, happiest, angriest, silliest, and most fucked up version of yourself without judgement. And…it was a little strange.

Hell wasn’t the kindest place to you, and neither was your life on Earth, but that didn’t matter.

Husk would be there to put all the broken pieces of your heart back together, sure, they were only binded by mere pieces of figurative glue or tape, but even with the most crappy materials that belonged in a kindergarten classroom, Husk would be able to put it together good as new.

After a short conversation with Husk, you went over to Charlie and hugged her, thanking her for everything the hotel has given you. It looked like she was about to cry right then and there.

While you were at it, you went over to Pentious, thanking him for being one of your closest friends while at the hotel, and wished him good luck in the battle, and good luck winning Cherri’s heart, patting him on the back before you left.

Then… you snuck off. You stood against the wall, feeling tears prick in your eyes, little did you know a certain cat approached you.

“You snuck away.” He stated. “What happened?” He asked, coming over to your side, leaning against the wall.

Neither of you made eye contact, instead you both just stared at the other side of the wall.

“I’m just so scared…” You mumble, your voice cracking, the water works spilling out of your eyes.

You wiped your eyes, trying to stop hiccups from escaping your lips, “What if we lose?”

Husk sighed, bitting his lip, he wasn’t ready to say this, but this could possibly be the last chance he had to do so, “Then at least I’ll die with you by my side.”

Your head whipped around to face him, surely you heard him wrong! “Huh? Wha— What do you mean?”

He took a breath in, turning to his body completely to face you, “I… I know this is sudden, but if I die tomorrow, if you die tomorrow, I need you to know that you made me a better man.” Husk said, looking into your eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“If tomorrow, one of us is gone, you need to know I love you more than anything.” Husk whispered, holding your face in his paws.

Your foreheads connected, feeling eachothers hot breath on your face, and all you could do, is lean in, and kiss the man who made you feel whole again.

[periludic]

" Distraction "

Qiu and Tamarack partners with the MC for a school project, they didn't get much done (It was the MCs fault)

📌 Pairing: Step 1 Qiu/Tamarack x GN!MC (Separate)

📌 Basically just Qiu and Tama admiring the MC

📌 OLNF brain rot, I'm making an AO3 fic of this next. (Thank you to whoever commented on my last post for this suggestion)

Qiu "Autumn" Lin:

Lets be real this kid needs a lot of help with school stuff, he'd probably be decently good in school if he tried but he doesn't

And to be extra real, he picks you every time to be his partner (he doesn't have a favorite he swears)

Mrs. Murray wouldn't allow that though, "give chance to others" she says. She deals with a lot of kids complaining that "Qiu always chooses (Name)!! Thats unfair" (god bless this woman) and Qiu frowns the saddest frown whenever this happens

But whenever Mrs. Murray does allow it, you bet that Qiu has the silliest, brightest, blinding smile ever stuck on his face

He likes you a normal amount (He lies to himself)

I don't think he'd be too serious about the project, but he does contribute and help you whenever he can

He doesn't pay much attention to it either, he's just happy to be there with you

But can you really blame him for spacing out mid-conversation when you tuck your hair prettily over your ear and how you look absolutely stunning when you're focused or when you have the cutest reaction ever at getting an answer right?

No. No you cant.

He pays more attention to you than your actual project, its cute but come on.

If you ask him why he's staring, he'll probably laugh it off and scold himself, thinking it was impolite of him to do so

But he's not afraid to admit the reason to why he was staring at you!

Its common sense, you're just too pretty. He can't help himself.

If you do start stressing out over the project however, he'll offer to do the rest for you

"I'll be more than happy to!!" he says, and you know. You just know that theres nothing inside that air head of his

It might take him a moment or two or three to understand the question but its worth it

He will do anything as long as its with you

Tamarack Baumann

No Mrs. Murray, she refuses to do the project if her very best friend isnt her partner

Tamarack would absolutely riot if Mrs. Murray got in the way of you being her partner for a project

She will be using her best puppy dog eyes and pleading voice thank you very much

Its against the law to object Tamarack, Mrs. Murray should've known better

Unlike a certain someone, Tamarack actually pays attention in class, and is good at memorizing without taking notes!

And unlike a certain someone, she's not as nice when it comes to not being your partner

Mrs. Murray allows it most of the time though, since you and Tamarack are new to the town and is still adjusting.

Most of the time.

Tamarack is very biased when it comes to you and everyone knows it (she has said so herself, in front of the entire class)

With Tamarack as your partner, you can rest easy!

She remembers your lessons well, and understands the questions fairly quickly

But sometimes she just can't help but to admire you. How can she not?

She's convinced that you came straight from a fairytale book, you're just so charming and adorable it's almost unfair!

Call her out on her behavior and she'll be more confused than a very confused person

Like. Yeah?? She's admiring you?? So what?? Its the logical thing to do? Its not her fault you're gorgeous?? Duh??

She'll give you a million reasons why you're so eye catching if you're not convinced

Please stop her.

I'm serious.

She'll go on and on for hours.

--

📌 sorry if my english grammar is off <3 english is not my first language

[wardenparker]

Hurry Home

Frankie Morales x female reader x Santiago Garcia

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Reader is described as wearing feminine clothing and having hair long enough to run fingers through. Fluff. Domesticity. Food/alcohol. Oral sex (m receiving), mention of shower sex. Summary: A small snapshot of an established poly relationship. Notes: There is no world in which I do not want to be in a poly marriage with Frankie and Pope. End of story. I hope you enjoy!

The light in the living room is still on when you come through the door; the smell of long-cooked chili wafting from the kitchen where unwashed dishes sit waiting for the morning. You drop your purse in its traditional place on the little table by the door and immediately reach down to pry the high heels off your aching feet. Too many damned meetings have fried your brain and left you craving a hot dinner and sweet cuddles. Thankfully, that delicious smell from the kitchen and the sound of Yellowstone on the television in the living room mean that Santiago is home. Alas, the gentle snoring means he has fallen asleep on the sofa.

Intent on not waking him up, you decide not to turn on the light and move soundlessly around the kitchen in your stockings and dress, glad to have rejected your heels at the door. Santi’s chili is your favourite comfort food. It’s spicy enough to clean out your sinuses but so complexly flavored that he completely betrays his years of culinary school every time he makes it. And he never minds that you scoop it up in half a bag’s worth of convenience store tortilla chips every time you need that next level comfort. Tonight, you pour absurd amounts of cheap tequila and margarita mix into a novelty pint glass and tap the microwave button to stop the heating cycle before it beeps too loudly across the apartment.

You reach blindly over to grab a spoon out of the drawer and have one plopped into your hand instead. “Jesus Christ!” You hiss, snatching your hand away and just barely managing not to drop the flatware.

The snickering giggle from your right isn’t Santi’s.

“Frankie!” You almost shriek, face splitting into an immediate smile and throwing your arms around his neck without a second lost.

 “Shh! Shhhh, love.” Frankie wraps his arms tight around your waist, breathing in the faded strains of your expensive perfume. “Santi’s sleeping.”

“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow?” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, smiling against his skin. He’s already stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers from whatever he’d put on that morning and he looks good enough to eat. Damn the chili, Frankie is a whole three course meal in his own right.

“I rescheduled for an earlier flight.” It sounds almost confessional, the way he quietly whispers in your ear. “I missed you.”

“Mmm,” The hum comes up from the back of your throat. “We missed you, too.”

“Is that why you have the world’s largest and saddest margarita in that glass?” Frankie smirks, raising one eyebrow at the glass on the counter next to your bowl. That awful sugary bottled cocktail mix only sneaks its way into your home when Frankie is away. As a former bartender he finds it fully offensive, but he knows you like sticky sweet drinks.

“Give me a break,” you beg, pouting fiercely. This is why you were having such a big drink tonight – not only because of the day you’d had at work but to empty the bottle before his return. “I had four meetings today, I earned this sugary tequila.”

Frankie knows how hard you work, constantly proving yourself day-in and day-out in an office full of men where you are the best educated in the room but always last to get a new client. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m only teasing.” He plies you with a soft kiss, letting it deepen when you sigh to let him in. Your reunions are like this more often than not now, after almost a decade together. In the beginning you would be fucking against a wall within minutes of the door closing, so desperate to feel each other’s touch again after a business trip or other time away that you had ruined a fair few pieces of clothing in moments of enthusiasm.

Now you linger together and let yourselves melt into each other, usually ending up going to bed early with a bottle of wine. When Santi had become a part of your romantic lives, you had become oddly more domestic, but you all quietly agreed that that was due to age and not a loss of passion. In fact, the only odd thing about it was that it had taken so long. For as close as Frankie and Santi had always been, it had taken the three of you going camping for a long weekend for something to finally happen.

Soft became sensual becomes hungry, and proof of that passion shows itself in you shoving Frankie’s hips against the kitchen counter so you can drop to your knees in front of him in synchrony with his boxers hitting the tiled floor.

“Goddamn.” Frankie’s long, thick fingers flex insistently against the base of your skull, not scratching or pulling, but encouraging as he drinks in the sight of you in the glowing shadow of the flickering living room television.

You have only gotten more gorgeous as you’ve gotten older, growing from an adorable little imp to an elegant and confident woman who owns her curves instead of hiding them. He’s always loved your body in every form, but he loves even more the way you’ve come to love yourself. With that confidence in yourself had come even more confidence as a lover – and he is more than okay with that. He simply wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t show you the vocal appreciation he has for your skills with your tongue. “Fuck, baby girl,” he moans, humming so deeply that he practically purrs.

“You know he’s just going to keep taking more out of town jobs if this is how he gets greeted at home.” Santi’s sleep-thick voice joins the rather obscene sound of your mouth leaving Frankie’s cock and your eyes flick up to Santi with an amused glint.

“Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t give him the same hello?” You tease. These men always make you smile. And moan. They always make you moan.

“Of course not.” Santi’s hand goes to his chest in mock affront before he leans down to nip at your bottom lip. “I gave him a good fuck in the shower. Obviously.”

“And I’m the one who’s spoiling him?” On your knees with Frankie’s length in one hand, you reach for the waistband of Santi’s joggers with the other and feel your smile go lopsided as your eyes grow darker. “I’ll spoil both of you, then.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” Frankie apologizes by pulling Santi in close, untangling one of his hands from your hair only to catch it up in the other man’s equally thick locks as they come together in a kiss. You’ll lavish them with attention here and then they will bring you to bed where they have space to work over every inch of you – the three of you falling asleep in a sweaty pile of satisfied partners.

When Santi had joined your family, you and Frankie had become a little more domestic. You had found the piece of your marriage that you hadn’t known was missing in a clever, loving third partner, and now you can’t imagine your lives without him.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[adnauseum11]

Mess Hall (John Price x Reader)

John explains his early departure from poker night to you.

1.8k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex (MDNI)

second part of the two-part scene

feedback welcome! writing smut is hard (lol) if anyone has any tips I'm grateful for them. Always looking to get better so don't be shy :)

Dinner was not edible, to John’s lasting amusement. The veggies cooked at disparate times, some too mushy and some practically raw. The pasta had been fine, John’s contribution solid as always. The flavour of the sauce had been the real star, if one didn’t mind the shrapnel you had introduced to it. Both of you had decided after half a bowl each that it was more work than it was worth. Your real dinner ended up being the world’s saddest charcuterie board, but John assured you he’d made do with worse. 

“Just happy to be eating.” He said, brushing off your concerns about him going hungry. 

“We could go to the pub.” You pick at the salami, perched on one foot tucked under you on a chair at the table.

“I just want to be with you, not up for the pub if that’s alright, love.” John’s honesty takes you by surprise, you glance at him but he seems otherwise content, building cheese and pickle onto a cracker.

“Yeah, of course that’s alright. You want to tell me what happened?” You ask carefully, not wanting to call back his bad mood but curious what brought him to your doorstep now that he seems a bit more even keeled. He stuffs the food into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, looking at you from under his lashes. It’s the most indecisive you’ve seen him in a long time and you wonder suddenly if you want to know at all. Then he sighs and pushes his plate away, seemingly deciding something.

“I was offered a contract. Walk on, ready to go.”

Your lungs freeze, and you forget how to breath for a moment. Your focus narrows onto the man beside you, who is closely watching for your reaction. The question must have been written across your face because he answers without it needing to be spoken aloud.

“I told them no, love.”

“Oh, thank god.” You say in a rush, your lungs sucking in a breath desperately. You can’t help the selfish sentiment, reflexive as blinking. Your hand lands on your chest as if trying to keep your heart contained. John watches you, a soft smugness pulling at his features. 

“Good to know you want me around, darling.” 

“I always want you around, John.” The bald truth is out before you can temper it with humour.

If anyone had told you a year ago that you would be dating your oldest friend and making heartfelt confessions in your kitchen over a crappy dinner, you would have thought them crazy. But here you are, a mere few months into this with your heart in your throat at the thought of him leaving for any length of time. What used to be routine seems devastating now.

“Is that…are you upset you said no?” You ask cautiously, breaking the intense eye contact to pick at your plate.

“What? No, they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Can’t play cards being badgered like that. They ought to know better.”

Relief that you aren’t the root cause of the bad mood floods through your system, making you bolder.

“You are incredibly stubborn. One ‘no’ should be enough.” You agree, earning yourself a dark look. You smile sweetly at him and reach across the expanse between your seats to cup his cheek, leaning in to his space to press a soft kiss to his frown. 

His big palm slides up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place when you would retreat. He deepens the kiss before you can move, his fingers sliding into your scalp with delicious pressure. When he finally releases you, instead of backing off you follow, slipping out of your seat and crawling onto John’s lap, his thick thighs spread wide. He accepts your weight without even blinking, shifting you into a more comfortable position before fisting his hand in your hair and kissing you again. The delectable rasp of his tongue against yours makes liquid heat pool in your lower belly. You’re suddenly desperate to feel his skin pressing against yours, your smaller hands grabbing at his sides and shoulders.

Your urgency seems to bleed into him, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt and tugging it up your back, pausing only for you to lift your arms before he’s pulling it free from your body and throwing it on the floor. You mimic his actions, pushing his shirt up to reveal the thickness of his chest. He grabs the fabric and tugs and it joins a growing pile of clothing. The dark wiry hair of his body whispers against your delicate skin, sending lightning bolts of desire through you, eager to be pressed against his heat. 

Without any warning John is shoving the plates out of the way, the clanking tableware startling you out of your lust driven haze. Before you can speak, he’s lifted you, depositing you on the cleared space of the table with a gentle tinkle as glass knocks together. You look up at him wide-eyed but his intense blue eyes are darkened with desire and locked on your bra, his fingers moving faster than your brain can catch up. The look in his eyes and the cool air has your nipples pebbling, biting your bottom lip as he leans into your space and kisses you again. You have a vague notion of him throwing the piece of clothing, in the next heartbeat both of his hands are on you, urging you to recline backwards. 

John’s hot mouth trails over your collarbone and sternum as you recline, your fingers curling into his short sandy brown hair. The wet pull of his mouth on your nipple has you gasping, arching into him. His hands have dropped from your sides to your abdomen, flicking your jeans open with hurried movements. He pauses long enough to cup your mound, the heat of your body making him groan low in his throat. 

“Fuckin’ hell love” 

His voice has slipped down an octave, desire making his cheeks and chest flush under his dark hair. Your body has a pavlovian response to his, anticipation spiralling through your limbs. When his fingers curl in your jeans and panties, you lift up automatically, using his thighs to balance as he tugs the clothing free of your body. 

He’s back on you as soon as the clothing leaves his hand, fingers tracing up your calves and thighs, making room for himself between them while his mouth blazes a trail over your ribs to the delicate underside of your breast. His whiskers dragging across your skin make you gasp and twitch, the tableware clinking together by your head with each sudden movement. When the wet heat of his mouth closes over your nipple again you moan, fingers pressing into the back of John’s neck to keep him in place. You can feel the backs of his fingers grazing against your low belly as he’s undoing his pants, twisting and pulling something out of his back pocket.

“John, let me.” You try to sit up but he won’t allow it, rasping his teeth over your nipple, making you suck in a breath and squirm underneath him. He releases your flesh with an obscene ‘pop’ and a smug smile slides across his face. 

“Too late, next time.” His voice is a rumble, one hand fisted around the condom on the base of his hard cock and the other landing on your chest, keeping you pinned to the table and spread out for his viewing pleasure. The slow back and forth glide of the head of his cock over the seam of your pussy makes you groan and hook your heels into the back of John’s thighs. Your hands curl around his forearm, your nails biting into his flesh as he presses into you slowly, eyes locked on your face.

The heat of John’s palm on your sternum makes you aware of how fast your heart is beating against it. Your rattling moan spurs John on, the rocking thrusts of his hips making the dishes dance by your head. The obscene symphony sends shockwaves of sensation up and down your spine, making you squirm as you clutch at his arm.

John hisses a curse, followed by your name and you can feel the muscles of his arm fluttering under your grip. The world narrows to just the two of you, John rocking you and the contents of the table with his thrusts, gripping your hip to steady you under his body. You can feel your body start to pull taut, your orgasm building in pressure and a whine climbing the back of your throat as your senses start to overwhelm. 

John slides his hand off your chest to hunch over you, putting his full weight behind his thrusts. He drops close enough to run his open mouth over your collarbone, panting hot breath against your skin. The increased pressure and change in angle make you clench around him, wrenching a low moan from his chest. The tableware crashes in time with your movements.

“John, please.” You’re begging mindlessly, wrapping your thighs high on his hips, your legs trembling. 

“You make me crazy when you say my name like that.” John rumbles into your ear, giving you what you want and sliding his thumb over your clit in small circles. It only takes a handful more thrusts before you’re reaching your peak.

Your orgasm overtakes you and you claw at the back of his neck and shoulder with your nails, desperate to ground yourself. Your keening cry bounces off the walls of the kitchen as your body clamps down on his, bucking underneath him. The throbbing grip of your inner muscles is enough to drag John down with you, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he cums hard, his cock pulsing inside you. He groans deeply, his grip on your body bordering on bruising as you both slowly come down and try to regulate your breathing.

“Holy fuck John” You whimper, aftershocks making you tremble and grab at his arms as he leans back, easing out of your oversensitive flesh with a hiss. His palms are stroking over your body, cataloging the shape of you, soothing both of your nervous systems before stepping back. He disposes of the condom in the trash and is back between your legs, giving orders like he never left. 

“Legs around my waist darling. Good girl. Up we go.” He’s gathered you against his chest and is hefting you off the table before you can process. Your brain finally catches up and you clamp your thighs around his waist tighter, your arms slung around his neck, hanging off of him like a burr. You trust him implicitly, doing as you're told, your brain still too gooey to do its own processing.

John checks the lock on your front door before carrying you upstairs to your bedroom. Both of you are too exhausted to give a shit about the state of the kitchen at the moment, curling together in your smaller bed. You try not to focus too hard on how suspiciously tight your chest feels when he spoons you, face buried in your hair with a contented sigh. 

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @syoddeye @cadotoast

[malewifeharem]

CELEB JING YUAN?? ☁️

celebrity!AU jingyuan

彡- ,, a collection of my brainrots about dating jing yuan as diff types of celebs!

cw ⁞ none unless ur allergic to rich hot general fluff. not proofread.

an ⁞ this may be a little ooc, i apologise ehe. I TRIED PLEASE I PROMISE RGRGGRHRGHGRHG

imagine ceo!jingyuan picking you up from work at your office, patiently waiting for you in his car. he doesn't understand why you want to continue working when he's already mentioned countless times how he could provide for you. you'd never have to work a day in your life again! (lets pretend we're hardworking in this) he gets out of the car to greet you with a smirk before opening the car door for you.

"get in, princess."

you smile at him and thank him for sending you home again — this has become a habit of his, though he sees it more as his duty. you quickly arrive at his residence and were about to bid him goodbye when he suddenly stopped you — his hand gripping your wrist, reluctant to let go. you ask him what's wrong and he just has the saddest pout on his face, looking like a dejected, kicked puppy. (lion?)

"why won't you let me spoil you... i know how much you hate your boss, if you resign, you'll never have to deal with him again. i'll pay for whatever you'll ever want and need, darling," he murmurs sleepily, pulling you closer to him so he can rest his head on your chest. how are you supposed to say no to him like this?! you don't notice his smug smirk as he hears your heartbeat fasten rapidly — he already knows you'll give in to him this time. (sly mf)

imagine artist!jingyuan who sits in his studio everyday, painting his beloved lover onto countless numbers of canvases — his work forever preserved. they all lay untouched, scattered on the floor. he's displeased. you'd visit his studio occasionally and always find him grumbling and utterly frustrated with himself. usually, when he's hit with a creativity block like this, it passes within a couple of days but he's been in this state of discontent for weeks at this point.

"i've been painting for ages now but nothing is appealing," he groans.

you turn to look at the multiple canvases strewn all across the floor and you beg to differ but ultimately decided to stay quiet — you won't be able to understand an artist's grievances anyway. you comfort him to the best of your abilities and you can tell that he appreciates it a lot — the weight of his eyebags lifting slightly. you return to the studio a few days later to see it in a completely different state of mess, the canvases from before are now replaced by sludges of clay.

"oh, you're back. ah, so you've seen the ceramic statues. it's you, my love. it seems your beauty is so breathtaking that it must simply be portrayed in multiple forms of art."

imagine world renowned author!jingyuan who sits in his garden everyday, inscribing his poems on scrolls — the work forever preserved. he hums in satisfaction as he rolls up the piece of parchment, slotting it into a case before sending it off to you via his personal cycrane. you're already reading his first draft within a few hours and pointing out any mistakes he's made so carelessly — making sure to add sarcastic comments by the side to add salt to the wound. after a few days of corrections, the work is ready to be sold to the collectors — the two of you meeting up to thank them for the smooth transaction.

"must you be so cruel every time you mark my work, my love?"

"it's because you're so sloppy with your work, 'yuan. aren't you a famous author? hm?"

"sorry, i work best with a reward-based system. maybe you should give me a kiss for every grammatically correct sentence."

"if that's what will solve your problem then fine."

"don't act so cold, we both know you'd like that."

you notice that his writings have become longer and you haven't been able to spot any mistakes either. (rip your sore lips)

[myjealouseyes]

Christmas Eve Wake Up Call.

HJP x wolfstar!daughter

A/N- if you saw me post this last week, no you did not!

No content warnings. Fluff, slight teasing and flirting, cuddling.

“…Harry. Harry, wake up. Wake up!”

He wakes with a start, his hand clutching his chest as he puts his glasses on. He looks over to see you, standing next to his now open window. This isn’t exactly new. Every Christmas Eve after you’ve just spent the day finishing up last-minute Christmas shopping and doing all your baking, you’ve usually overexcited yourself about the upcoming holiday.

That meant no matter how hard you tried or how tired you were you just couldn’t sleep. Your mind was in overdrive thinking about how people would like the presents you gifted, or if they’d like your baked goods (which they always did,) and you were slightly curious about all the gifts under the tree. You’d waited ages to see what was in each box and just thinking about how you only had to wait a few more hours sent you into a frenzy. So after an hour and a half of tossing and turning, you decided to sneak out of your bedroom and into Harry’s to make him suffer with you because what else are best friends for?

You close the window and skip over his bed, throwing yourself in the spot next to him. Harry takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes sluggishly before lying down next to you. You grin, turning his head toward yours. You caress his face gently, making a small flush form against his cheeks.

“It’s just after eleven y’know,” Harry mumbles while his eyes are fluttering shut. Your touch has calmed him down from his semi-panicked state. “You usually come a little closer to twelve.” You hum quietly and give his cheek a light pinch. “So I came early. You kicking me out?” His lips turn up into a teasing smirk as his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer. Butterflies form in your stomach at the feeling. “That depends. Are we going to sleep?” You wrinkle your nose playfully and poke at his chest. “It’s Christmas Eve. Have I ever slept on Christmas Eve?”

Harry gives you a playful sigh and it squeezes your hip. “Fair. What do you suppose we do then?” You trail your fingers over his chest, silently mauling over your options. Eventually, you shrug and smile up at him. “Wanna hear about what happened with my dad and the dogs earlier?”

Before he could answer you launch into a very amusing story about how Sirius had turned into Padfoot and gathered your three German Shepherds to devise a plan to sneak some of your Christmas baked goods out of the kitchen. You’d caught all of them with a basket of cookies in their mouths and demanded they put them back. But of course, Sirius had a plan for that too. As if on que they gave you the saddest puppy eyes you’d ever seen. You caved and ended up giving Padfoot three cookies and the dogs two dog biscuits each.

Harry chuckles at your misfortune. “You couldn’t resist puppy-dog eyes?” He teases as his fingers trace zig zags on your hip. You roll your eyes playfully and tug his hair. Harry laughs a bit louder, and soon both talking turns telling stories about your chaotic Christmas Eve days. Harry tells you about how James accidentally spoiled Lily’s Christmas gift, got really embarrassed, and then told her to just act surprised. You follow him up with one about how Remus had accidentally discovered his own gift in the basement, but didn’t realize it was his. He just shut the door and went to feed the birds waiting at the window.

As you two laugh, time passes and the sun sneaks out. You should sneak back into your room, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You end up falling asleep against Harry’s chest just like you do every year.

[ma1dita]

truth be told

can be read as a standalone, but part one can be found here: liar, liar

this was a request! here

words: 3k

summary: After everything, only the truth remains. A continuation of your life with Sirius. Loosely follows the events of the books. Sirius Black x fem!reader

warnings: one use of y/n, ANGST guys if i cried writing this you will too, non-descript smut for the plot, ending open to interpretation, Sirius deserved a better life. star-crossed lovers strike again!

a/n: it has been months but i wanted to get this right. Saddest shit I’ve written in a while, hope you enjoy! Let’s rant about how the Blacks have the saddest character arcs…. And this has an open ending, tell me what you think happened!! Tunes attached at the end for your reading pleasure.

(posted: 12/18/23)

—

There’s always a proper explanation for drastic life changes. Surely, there’s a reason this keeps happening to you.

At the very least, this time around you feel as if you owe it to your dead friends. You’d never thought you’d be the one to outlive all of them, with how much the world has gone to spite you, but then, you heard about Harry Potter. It was never fair, the way he lost loved ones that you loved too. Perhaps it was sympathy or your ongoing savior complex, but 12 years gives you a lot of time to ponder past transgressions.

So when Remus sent you an urgent letter about Peter being found alive, arranging your international portkey to meet them at Hogwarts immediately was a no-brainer.

Professor Remus, who is so eloquent with words, just casually had to omit the fact that your ex was also back in the picture. And that he was the most wanted wizard in Britain. Truthfully, your life has been much quieter since him. There’s truth in these details…

Now, as you follow Severus Snape to the Shrieking Shack under the guise of catching your ex red-handed, something about this scene feels familiar.

The seed of doubt that was planted back then still lingers as a big and scary thing, all twisted and it rips open old scars for those involved. It makes you stop in your tracks at the entrance of the base of the Whomping Willow and you can't help but be struck by the thought of how much things have changed since that fateful night all those years ago. And yet, somehow, it is all the same.

A pang of guilt stabs at you. The night was supposed to be about catching the big bad Sirius Black, but you couldn't help but be reminded of how important he had been to you back then, and how you loved him. Love him. It was almost as if you were playing the part of the traitor rather than looking for one...

You’re 33 now, after all. What else could go wrong?

—

You hesitate outside the entryway, listening to voices from your past and present intermingle, and the thundering in your heart drowns out the sound of your heavy breathing. Godric, and they said Harry has his life threatened every year? Isn’t Hogwarts supposed to be the safest place on Earth?

As Severus raises his wand to attack Sirius, you step into the light and wordlessly stupefy your colleague, his body dropping to the floor like a bag of rocks. Multiple pairs of eyes meet, some in fear and confusion, but you are immediately drawn to him, his presence calling something within your soul as it did 12 years prior. Sirius Black, your lost love, all covered in grime and more suffering than man. He has that look on his face, the one he’d get when he was about to make a point— and it irritates you so quickly that it’s almost debilitating.

The rush of emotions as you see him again floods you with a memory of a time like this long ago. It hits you like a tide that washes over your senses, the way one breathes in saltwater, all nostalgia and raging hurt, and as you gulp in oxygen, breathing heavily. For a second, the shadows in this dark room look like the friends you lost on a night this, one you no longer talk about.

Guilt, anger, and love all vie for your attention but your mind goes numb as Sirius steps closer, his face twisted in a wry smile as he meets your gaze.

"Hello, wife." He whispers, his voice tinged with affection and regret. He’s different now, older… starved. Sirius steps closer to you blinking slowly, hand grazing your wrist like he’s afraid you’re a figment of his imagination again. He’s spent a lot of time over the years imagining you. But then the anger comes back to the forefront of your brain before he can do anything about it.

You sock him hard in the jaw, and he crumples to the ground like paper. What a scene— Severus lying unconscious behind you, Sirius keeled over holding his jaw, and the Golden Trio stares at you with open mouths.

“Who even are you?” A ginger boy holding a ball of fur almost howls in disbelief. Is that…

“Good to have you back, love,” Remus says with a knowing grin, and then all you can hear is Sirius’s laughter. Despite the blood dripping from his lips he laughs, so filled with enjoyment that he hasn't felt in years.

“Someone’s gotta keep you two in line,” you huff, looking around quickly as you point your wand at the damn rat of a man hiding in the grasp of these children.

“Put him down so I can hurt him,” You spit, and Peter Pettigrew, ever the petty little man launches himself at you going down in a flurry of multicolored sparks and misfired spells.

“Kill him, baby, kill him! You knew it wasn’t me, didn’t you? I’ve been waiting for this… 12 years of it! In Azkaban!” Sirius chortles, almost rocking on the floor in glee, finding this hilarious.

“Quiet you git, or I’ll make sure you’re next!”

A low growl comes out of Remus, and you realize revenge will have to wait once more, pushing the Trio out of the shack. One thing is clear in your mind as you run for your life.

You have got to stop testing fate.

—

Tomorrow, you turn 34. What better way to celebrate than to pay a visit to your ex-boyfriend after he escaped from Azkaban? Clearly, Remus Lupin thinks it’s his best idea yet.

“He’s not doing so well, (Y/N). Can’t seem to adjust at Grimmauld Place and find a new normal…” Remus mutters over the floo network late at night.

“I don’t think normal and that place could ever belong in the same sentence,” you say with a furrowed brow. From one prison to another, you think.

“I just… I thought I’d floo you because I’m running out of ideas. You know… you knew him best.” The fireplace illuminates your face in the small apartment you’ve been residing in for the past month since your return.

“Does it matter? We’re strangers again, just bound together by hazy memories. I wouldn’t know what to do…”

“But I think you do, and he wants you there. Just doesn’t know how to say it. For some of us, memories are all we have.” The image of Remus’s head was getting licked at by the hot flames, and the idea of being in front of Sirius again, not for Order business, but to be even a friend, after everything…

You felt like you were on fire too.

“Isn’t it ironic that the happy memories hurt more than the sad ones, Rem?” Silence greets you from the other end of the fire, both of you knowing that it’s the truth

Sirius sees you approaching the house in the early morning as he watches out the window after another sleepless night. His body jerks up from his hunched position at the bay window, wiping at the corners of his eyes. You came. You’re here. For him.

He meets you downstairs, daybreak peeking in rays of blue and purple behind you, the frame of the doorway separating the two of you along with the realization that you’ve missed each other for longer than you’ve known one another.

You step back into his space, and he takes your coat quietly, scared to make another mistake, scared to push you away like he has many times before.

Something akin to grief holds you there in the foyer, staring at each other in a new light, faces changed by the life you should have lived together. For right now, there’s nothing more to hide, nothing less than the simple truth that you are two different bodies with the same souls. There is no struggle in the way your hand reaches out for his chest, to feel the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a while, you both feel alive.

“Sirius…” you whisper. No nicknames, because what do you call him after all that? The man who left that night with hushed promises and left you to handle the wreckage.

The world keeps moving and he’s still stuck there in that cell. In this house. Sirius can’t seem to walk away from what haunts him, but at the sound of your voice saying his name he smiles.

No one’s said his name that kindly to him in years. Not in the way that you do.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

—

You’re 35 now, and you’ve realized that it takes time. Time is all you have when your love is in hiding. You’re caught again between the blurry lines of friends and something more, but the work that has to be done comes first before anything.

And it is driving Remus mad.

You moved into one of the many spare rooms at Grimmauld Place when Remus did, to keep Sirius company and organize affairs for the Order. But to watch you two dance around each other awkwardly makes him want to claw at his skin more than he already has.

“Friends stick together. We help each other out,” you say nonchalantly and Sirius’ head bobs as he helps you put the groceries away one day. Remus is not as amused.

There are a lot of things to fix here, with the house swarming with dark magic and cursed artifacts. You all spent weeks researching the combination of anti-sticking charms to tear down the family tapestry.

Wretched Walburga’s painting was almost one with the foundation of the building, so you found a way to magic it shut forever. To take down the bad memories brick by brick, hurt and shame—if that’s what he wanted, you and Remus made sure it was what he would get. It’s what he deserved. When you finally showed Sirius the closed-off wall, without the invidious glare of his birthgiver, he thought he could kiss you with the happiness it brought him. You have a way of doing that, so intentional with your words, and how you’ve been caring for him, giving him the room he’s learning to occupy again…

So he did.

Hesitantly, then desperately drinking you in like a man left starved, and he had years of a fill to catch up on. He could drown in you if you’d let him.

And you did.

You kissed in the middle of the living room he was once damned in, legs hoisted over his hips as you fall onto the sofa. Frantic movements, kisses conveying words left unsaid, and at one point you both cry in pleasure and relief at being in each other’s arms again. If everything’s gone wrong in life, dear Circe, was this finally right.

His thrusts are slow as he gazes at you from above, hair moved out of your face to properly see you. Calloused hands roam your body that he wishes to reacquaint himself with from the inside out, from your skin to your bones.

“It’s okay,” you sigh as you touch his jaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m scared to ruin this. To ruin you.”

Your hips slow as you reach around to hug him. Sirius had long come to terms with the fact that he ruins everything he touches, and you’re not an exception in a long line of proof. You gently pull his body down before rolling over him, placing kisses everywhere you could reach. The crease in his forehead, his sunken in collarbones, the lean of his chest until your eyes and lips fall upon the dark etch of your name on his ribcage, under his heart. It joins the many other tattoos that grace his slender body, but it’s the only one in bright, devastating red. Your eyes meet again.

“I…they kept trying to take the necklace away. I had to remember you somehow. I’m sorry,” he says bashfully, eyes flickering to the ceiling in timidity, and the apology slips out from his lips. It makes you smile at how far he is from the arrogant man you once knew.

“Then ruin me then. Again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your approval stokes the fire in him, hands grabbing for dear life to feel you more underneath his fingertips and with the movements he makes from under you, striking hard like he has something he needs to prove. As you sigh into his neck and hold tightly onto his hand, you think of how loving him has always been red. Necklace or not, that has always been the truth.

Naked underneath a throw blanket that might scar Remus’ senses when he gets back from his mission and surrounded by the construction job of a house he once hated, Sirius breathes easily with you resting upon his chest. He hasn’t dreamed in a long while, but here, he can conjure images of finally marrying you and making this house a home.

“What are you thinking about? Tell me the truth,” you whisper, and he stops breathing, thinking you’re already asleep. Your fingers rub a mark on his neck lovingly.

“I want you to call me anything else. Baby, sweetness, darling…” he muses with a crackly voice.

“I don’t like my name. You’ve always known that. I don’t think it’s ever been mine. But I have always been yours, even when I didn’t know it. Even if you don’t want me.”

You press yourself closer to him, if that’s even humanly possible, gripping onto his soul.

“Husband it is then.”

—

At 36, you didn’t think you’d be having this fight with him again.

It wouldn’t be Sirius if he didn’t put up a fight. The man who’s spent his entire life fighting to get everything he wants or even a fraction of what he felt he needed. So why would loving him be any more simple?

He won’t easily admit that he’s never experienced life the way he wanted to unless he was with you, the only constant, his only calm. But there’s no way in hell you’re letting him rush out into the night again to never be seen.

“Harry needs me, my love. I need to protect him! You need to stay here,” Sirius bites back at the desperation writhing through his being, needing for you to understand that he wants you safe too.

“I’m tired of fighting you, babe, I can’t…” Your hands slam onto the dining table as he paces around it, running away from you again as he grabs things he needs. The lack of air in your lungs is making everything rush to your head, anxiety making you spiral as you chase him again, reaching out for him like trying to grapple with smoke.

“I can’t do this. I’m not letting you leave without me again,” you wail, and he’s not listening, hyperfocused on saving one of the few people he has left to live for. He laces his boots haphazardly, keys being thrown into his jacket pocket, and it all boils over.

“SIRIUS!” you scream. He stops in his tracks and looks at you in the moonlight, face illuminated by the kitchen window. You’re crying, shaking, with your hand still outstretched for him to hold. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead with all the love he can muster.

“I...can’t lose you again. Could it be easy this once? I’m not the enemy here. Please don’t fight me on this,” you heave between soft sobs, hands crinkling his shirt to keep you grounded.

“You’re coming.” he surrenders, and you nod, both of you knowing it’s the truth. The blue light of a refashioned heart necklace lights the space between you. Fear fills the air again, and he silently grabs your jacket, zipping it up and tucking the pendant underneath your shirt. His thumb brushes over your jaw in an unhurried moment as he looks at you long enough that you wish to stay here forever.

“I love you.”

“I know, husband. I love you.”

Your hand grips onto his and you apparate to the Department of Mysteries.

—

The quiet tragedy of your love will never truly leave your ribcage, and Sirius’s quite literally etched in the skin and bones of him, under his heart.

One moment, he’s fighting for his life with you beside him, and the next, he’s falling. The love never disappeared, though it appeared differently the second time around. You couldn’t love each other the same way twice, with everything that’s changed since the beginning of it, but the love was there. It evolved with you. It endures.

You’re the only family he needs, and this point is further solidified when his cousin sends a killing curse his way, and his saving grace is you letting go of his hand to to blast her into oblivion. He trips backward to the Veil all the same.

“Wife…” he breathes out, being pulled in by nothingness. Your body turns slowly and your eyes meet, his hand out his hand stretches to reach yours. His eyes reflect the red glow of the pendant on your chest, and then you know what to do.

“Husband!” The sound of your voice brings a smile to his face and he shuts his eyes not needing to know how this will end because you’re here, and barely a breath away.

There wasn’t even a second thought to grab his hand, and the both of you are falling, falling again. Hands intertwined, both ringless, yet all the more secure and true. This is how it was meant to be.

—

“I can’t decide if time

Is my enemy

Or my friend

Time takes the pain away

But time takes you away too.”

-Whitney Hanson

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

love me some tunes! I listened to these three songs while I wrote: cedar by gracie abrams, adam's ribs by jensen mcrae, the alcott by the national (ft. taylor swift)

[sapphire-writes]

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) part 10

previous part ~ series masterlist

pairings: modern!Aegon x Reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: The ending to our chaotic faves.

warnings: 18+ spicy stuff below the cut (p in v, fingering, praise, light hair pulling) descriptions of rehabilitation for addiction

word count: 4.1k

note: the ending to our chaotic faves, I'm already emotional I hope you all enjoy this final chapter! 🥹 🫶🏻

masterlist

You held Aemond’s hand walking into the skyscraper. You’d driven into the city together, Aemond’s hand wrapped tightly around your thigh the whole time he drove, long fingers tapping mindlessly on the soft skin. 

You love him.

It’s all you’ve been thinking of since leaving the hospital, it’s all you think about every waking moment, every time you close your eyes to sleep. Every blink, every heartbeat is echoed by those three words.

I love you. 

You haven’t told him. You’re not sure when the right time will be. Luke was just released, and Aegon was just getting ready to leave for treatment. As soon as he was ready to go another thing happened. Viserys had been so sick for a while, and finally in his sleep passed away. So Aegon’s leaving was delayed until after the funeral. 

It was a small affair. Aemond was stoic and silent throughout, not wanting to talk, not wanting to speak at all. Rhaenyra gave a eulogy and Alicent spoke some words as well. And that was it. Helaena and Rhaenyra were the saddest, teary-eyed, and melancholic. The boys held their true feelings inside of them, you were sure of it. 

Now the settlement has begun. 

You wish everything would calm down, wish you had a moment to breathe. They’re mostly good things, but still. It’s a lot for anyone to handle. 

Helaena is waiting for you both in the lobby. She’s wearing a dress that reaches her calves, a deep forest green color. Her hair is pulled back from her face, and a dark blazer rests on her shoulders. She’s minimized her normally excessive jewelry which is such an odd sight, as though she’s missing a crucial part of her. You can see her fingers clearly without her rings, the beetle tattoo on her right-hand pointer finger staring at you.

“Ready for this?” she asks Aemond more than you.

It’s just them. No Daeron, no Aegon. Helaena and Aemond, are the two representatives of that side of the family tree.

“As I’ll ever be,” Aemond answers.

You glance at him. He looks formal as well, though it’s not as jarring as Helaena’s look. Aemond wears a perfectly fitted black suit, a sapphire blue pocket square the only pop of color. He has opted to keep the chain he usually wears around his neck, you can just see it under the collar of his shirt, catching the light. 

His silky hair is pulled back into a bun, out of his face, accentuating his sharp features. You wish you could go in with them if nothing more than to show your support. As you walk down the hallway and into the elevator, Aemond snakes his hand around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“You okay?” he murmurs, lips tickling your ear.

I love you. 

Your heart nearly bursts. Here he is, on the most stressful day of his life, and he’s wondering how you’re doing. He never ceases to amaze you. You turn your face toward him. 

“I’m okay,” you tell him, “I should be asking you that.”

Aemond chuckles. Helaena shifts nervously and you reach for her hand. The buttons in the elevator glow, dinging with each floor you pass. 

“It’ll be over soon enough,” Aemond answers, grip tightening on your waist, “we’ll get through it, we always do.”

“Hopefully not in pieces,” Helaena snarkily adds, and you squeeze her hand. 

The elevator dings and you walk out. A grand lobby is in front of you, with a receptionist desk and several leather couches forming a circle. The receptionist smiles, before standing.

“Mr. Targaryen, Ms. Targaryen,” she greets, moving out of her desk. 

Aemond’s hand remains resting on your hip as though he’s not ready to part with you.  

“If you’ll follow me right this way, we can begin,” she tells them. 

You place your hand over Aemond’s beginning to unravel yourself from his grip. His fingers tug lightly on the fabric of your dress, as though he’s not ready to let go.

“I’ll wait right here,” you assure him, squeezing his hand.

It’s so cold without his embrace. 

Aemond nods, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead, following it with one on your lips. Helaena takes a deep breath, steadying herself, before beginning down the hallway towards a large glass room. You can see Daemon and Rhaenyra already seated, across from Otto Hightower. 

You weren’t allowed in the room. When Rhaenyra and Daemon had walked into Casterly Rock Law Firm the very air seemed to vibrate. Their presence was powerful, it signified the turning tide. 

Aegon wasn’t present. He was already on his way to treatment. Otto insisted he didn’t need to be there, and that we could phone him in if necessary. 

Jace and Luke also were not there. They sent their lawyer and that was it. They were done with the band long ago. 

It’s going to be a long day.

Aemond glances at you, and even though he’s intimidatingly tall, and looks the part of a terrifyingly handsome businessman, he still manages to look at you with such fondness you think you might keel over.

I love you.

“Good luck,” you tell him instead, and he follows Helaena down the hall. 

You bring yourself to one of the couches, place your bag down, and reach for your phone. It’s early and bound to be a long day. There’s a fish tank in the corner, much like the ones you might see in a dentist's office. You find that is the majority of your entertainment, watching the exotic fish swim around and around. 

You go down to the main floor at one point to a coffee shop there. You spend some time scrolling through your phone, texting Baela and Rhaena updates while snacking on a muffin and coffee. You decide to bring Helaena and Aemond coffee, paying the barista, and heading back upstairs. 

A little while later, you hear the conversation become louder. Several people leave the room and you focus on the words you hear float down the hallway. 

“The album is out, the damage is already done,” Daemon says, leaning back in his seat.

He looks pissed, silver hair disheveled as though he’s been running his hands through it. 

“We can divide the royalties,” Otto tells him, “Rhaenrya can get an even split.”

“You think money just fixes everything, don’t you?” Daemon says, eyes narrowing.

“Let’s recess,” one of the lawyers says, breaking the tension in the room. 

You hear Rhaenyra and Daemon arguing as they exit the glass room and walk down the hallway. 

“Daemon-” Rhaenyra begins, grabbing his arm. He angrily pulls away from her. 

“You should have consulted me,” Daemon snaps, “before agreeing to this foolishness.”

“It’s the only way,” Rhaenyra argues, “I’m done tearing everyone apart.”

“It is them who have wronged you-”

“So what?” Rhaenyra asks incredulously, shaking her head, “So I sue my siblings? Maybe I’ll win, and then what?”

Daemon glares, not speaking. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” Rhaenyra tells him, “this isn’t what I ever wanted.”

“You wanted to be a star,” Daemon argues, placing a hand on her cheek.

Rhaenyra’s face falls, silver hair hiding her face. 

“Not like this,” she tells him. 

It is then Daemon notices you, the two coffees you hold in your hands. He drops his hand from Rhaenyra’s cheek, shoving them into the pockets of his suit. Rhaenrya turns, giving you a tentative smile. 

Daemon walks in the opposite direction, not speaking to you. 

“How’s it going?” you ask Rhaenyra as she sighs. 

“As well as it can, I suppose,” she tells you. 

You nod. The coffee cups are burning your palms but you don’t move to leave. 

“Thank you,” you tell her, “for being the bigger person. I don’t think-” you pause trying to find the right words for what you want to say, “I don’t think they could have been.”

Rhaenyra smiles knowingly. 

“They have more obstacles than I do,” she agrees, her gaze flickering back to the glass room, where Otto Hightower still sits, speaking to Aemond and Helaena. 

“I’ll be right back,” you tell her, heading into the room. 

An exiting lawyer holds the door for you, and Aemond and Helaena look up as you enter. Helaena smiles softly, while Aemond’s face remains more neutral. Though there is a shimmer in his eye when he sees you. Otto stops speaking, waiting for you to leave. 

You place the coffee in front of them.

“Thanks,” Helaena says, smiling though her eyes are tired already. 

Aemond holds his hand out to you and you take it, letting him gently squeeze your fingers. He’s tense, painfully stressed you can tell. You hope the small touch relaxes him a bit. Otto watches you like a hawk, you can feel his eyes following the connecting path of Aemond’s hand to yours. You squeeze his fingers once more before letting his hand fall, exiting the room.

Rhaenyra is still standing outside. Daemon has yet to return.

“It’s probably going to be a few more hours,” Rhaenyra tells you, “these things can go on forever.”

“You’ve done this before?” you ask.

Rhaenyra shrugs. 

“Not really,” she tells you, “I joined my father a few times. He had a lot of legal problems back in the day.”

You nod, feeling as though you’ve heard that story before. 

“Are you going to hang around all day?” Rhaenyra asks.

You look into the room once more, and watch Aemond tap his fingers against the table. The only sign he’s uncomfortable. 

“Yeah,” you tell her, “it’s worth the wait.”

The hours go by slowly as you wait in the lounge on a sleek leather couch. You text Baela and Rhaena throughout, sending them updates and whatnot, though there are few. You’re kept pretty much in the dark. 

The sun begins to sink in the sky as the hours tick by, and at some point, you’ve begun laying on the couch, sleep drifting over you. Until a hand brushes some hair from your face, startling you awake. 

“What happened?” you mumble, lifting your head.

“Shhh,” Aemond’s gentle timbre greets you, “it’s alright, princess. It’s over.”

You blink several times, seeing Aemond crouching in front of you, Helaena standing behind him, coat draped over her arms. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, as Aemond stands. 

“Well?” you ask, desperate to know the outcome.

“Everything’s okay,” Helaena says, “Rhaenyra is getting an even share of the royalties from the album, she’s even open to collaborating again.”

Your eyes widen.

“That’s great Hel,” you tell her and mean it. Helaena’s music means everything to her.

Aemond and Helaena share a look. 

“What else?” you ask.

“Dracarys is over,” Aemond tells you, “Officially. Jace and Luke don’t want to continue playing, and with Aegon in treatment…” he trails off.

“Aegon never really wanted this,” Helaena finishes, “I mean, we all know that. He did it because Otto made him. The band made him worse. Maybe without it, he would be okay.”

You grab Helaena’s hand, standing from the couch.

“He’s going to be okay, Hel,” you tell her, “he’s getting the help he needs.”

“I know,” Helaena says, sighing, “I just wish he didn’t need it in the first place.”

Your heart hurts for her. Breaks for the whole family.

“You want me to come over?” you ask her. 

Helaena sighs, shaking her head. 

“That’s sweet, but I’m okay,” she tells you, “I just need a shower and to go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, of course, Hel. Whatever you need,” you assure her, nodding. 

You walk out of the building together, but part ways in the parking garage. You and Aemond drove together, and wait for Helaena to leave, sitting in the car in silence. Aemond’s hands grip the steering wheel, but he doesn’t start the car yet. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Aemond says, “I feel good. I feel…” he trails off for a moment, “weightless.”

Your eyes flicker about his face, a small smile coming forth on your own.

“Weightless?”

“Yeah,” he continues, releasing a deep breath, “I feel like all this time I was trying to hold everything together, hold everyone together. Hold myself together. And now that it's over I feel…lighter.”

You don’t say anything, giving him the space to continue. He glances at you. 

“It feels fucking good,” he tells you, and then he smiles. Smiles like he’s free. 

Your face mirrors his and there’s no stopping it this time, the words fall from your lips effortlessly, unconsciously.

“I love you,” you tell him.

Aemond’s breath catches, his violet eye widens and for a moment you think you’ve chosen the wrong time to confess your feelings. Your cheeks heat up and you blink rapidly, tearing your gaze from his. You clear your throat and his hand moves on top of yours. You meet his eye once more. 

“I love you,” he tells you, “I have loved you for a while now.”

You release a shaky breath, smiling softly. 

“A while?” you ask.

“As long as I can remember,” he confesses, “as long as you’ve been around.”

You listen, eyes wide. 

“Why didn’t you-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupts, “we found our way to each other eventually.”

You wonder how Aemond held onto that faith that you’d come to him eventually, that the heated arguments would turn into raw passion. Or maybe it was passion all along. You think back at all the interactions, all the breadcrumbs that led you toward him.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you tell him.

“Don’t be,” he assures you, “I wouldn’t change anything.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Anything?” 

“Well,” he thinks for a moment, “No. No, I wouldn’t.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. 

“Are you ready to go?” you ask, desperate to get home, desperate to forget this day and snuggle up with him.

Aemond’s eye flickers over you.

“Get in the backseat,” he says, surprising you. 

Desire pools in your belly, makes your stomach flip flop. 

“What?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he asks, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips. 

Your face flushes, but you open the door to get out. As you open the door to the backseat, you glance around the parking garage. There are cars, but no people around. It’s getting late, people are bound to come for their cars soon. Aemond slams his door shut, sliding into the backseat. 

“C’mere,” he says, taking your hand. 

You slide into the seat, as Aemond pulls you to his lap so you’re straddling him. 

“People are going to see,” you whisper as his lips connect with yours, effectively silencing every complaint you had prepared. 

“We’ll be quick,” Aemond murmurs against your lips, fingers digging into your hips.

You whine into his mouth, grinding yourself against the hardness between his legs. You can feel his smile against your mouth as you wrap your arms around him. 

“Aemond-” you moan as his hand travels up your back, tugging the roots of your hair, and exposing your neck.

He brings his mouth to your throat, nipping and sucking just the way you like, leaving you thrashing against him. It’s hard to pay attention to the outside, but you’re sure you see a figure walk past, some poor businessman just trying to get to his car. You whimper, both from Aemond’s attention and from the fear of being caught. Aemond merely chuckles, hands palming your breasts.

“I like you all nervous like this,” he murmurs, kissing your lips once more, “look at you, pretty girl.”

“We should go home,” you tell him, nails gently tracing the chain that hangs around his neck, “finish what we started.”

Aemond grins, reaching under your skirt and stroking your panties. Your lips part and he moves the lace aside, sinking a finger inside you. 

“You really want to stop now?” he asks, and you moan, “tell me, c’mon baby use your words and tell me.”

No words, no thoughts come to your head just Aemond. Just his fingers, fuck he just added another one curling into you just right. Stroking that rough patch that makes you tremble against him, grind your hips into his hand. 

“My pretty girl wants to get fucked right now?” he asks, feigning confusion, “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you whine, body flushed with desire. 

“Tell me again,” Aemond demands.

“Yes I want you to fuck me now,” you tell him.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs, “How can I say no to you?”

“Aemond please,” you beg, muscles clenching around his fingers as your release nears.

“Come on my fingers baby, and I’ll give you what you want,” he tells you, kissing your neck once more. 

You come with a strangled cry, thighs trembling. Aemond carefully, but swiftly, removes his fingers and frees his straining cock. You lick your lips, mind still hazy, and sink down on top of his thick member. Aemond’s jaw slacks as you clench around him, slowly beginning to ride him. 

He holds your hips, assisting your movements, being careful to make sure you don’t hit your head on the ceiling. You wrap your hands around his face, looking into his violet and sapphire eye.

“I love you,” you tell him again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. 

“I love you,” he tells you, connecting your lips.

It’s a mixture of moans and ‘I love yous’ in the small space, windows clouding with steam as you ride him until both of you find your releases, collapsing into each other, a tangled mess of limbs in the backseat. 

90 days later 

A garden party is Helaena’s idea. At the Targaryen home. More like the Hightower home now, as Alicent changed her last name the second Viserys’ last breath left his lips. You came early, to help set up. 

It’s Aegon’s coming home day, as the banner Helaena hung in the backyard reads. He’s spent the past three months in intense rehabilitation for his drinking. More like a five-star resort really, the best Hightower money could afford. 

It’s a beautiful summer day, Helaena is clad in a baby blue sundress, covered with a pattern of ivy twisting its way all over the material. You’re wearing something similar, a nice light, airy sundress to keep cool in the early summer heat. 

“Hey!” Baela calls, walking down the hill that dips down to the backyard from the main house. 

You’re with Helaena setting up the table, as Baela makes her way to you. Her smile is brighter than the sun as she hurries over to you.

“Hey!” you greet her, throwing your arms around her. 

“I’ve missed you,” she whines, holding you close in an embrace.

“It’s been a week, Baela,” you tell her laughing.

She groans, playfully frowning.

“I know,” she says pouting, “but it’s hard! With you officially moving out, and now Rhaena’s moving in with Luke! You’ve all abandoned me!”

Helaena laughs.

“Aren’t you moving in with Jace this weekend?” Hel asks.

“That is beside the point,” Baela argues, but smiles at Hel.

“This is why I live alone,” Helaena says, nodding.

Moving in with Aemond was a new development. You decided that it was time for a new place, to put the old apartment to rest. Aegon agreed to continue living there and Daeron was going to move into Aemond’s old room now that he was back from studying abroad. It would be good for them to keep an eye on each other. 

“Speak of the devil!” Helaena adds, waving at Rhaena who comes bounding down the hill.

“Yay! I’ve missed you!” she says, joining Balea and your hug. 

You squeeze her tightly, the three of you twirling around. Helaena laughs and you point at her. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. 

“No, I don’t really like group hugs-”

“Hel! Get in here!” Baela says firmly.

Helaena sighs but joins, hugging the pile of you awkwardly. Alicent comes down the hill then, trailed by Daeron and Aemond who are helping her bring food down to the table. 

“Very sweet,” she comments, smiling, seeing you all hug, “Is Rhaenyra here yet?”

“Not yet,” Helaena answers as you all pull yourselves from the hug. 

Luke and Jace walk down the hill next, followed by Sunfyre who nearly knocks Luke over, sending him tumbling down the grassy hill. The happy golden bounds down the hill, tail wagging manically before racing back up towards the house.

You spot Aegon then. 

He pets Sunfyre on the head affectionately. Rhaenyra appears behind him. She’d been the one to pick him up from treatment, she’d insisted. 

He looks good. Better. Well. 

The dark circles that rim his eyes have nearly vanished completely, and his eyes are clear and cloudless, paying gentle attention to the happenings going on around everyone. His smile reaches his eyes as Helaena embraces him, hands clinging to his shoulders like he is a raft in the middle of the ocean.

It always seems like Helaena is closest to Aemond. But there is something so painfully intimate about Helaena’s relationship with Aegon. Born nearly a year apart, they’re almost like twins; they're so close. Aegon buries his head in her shoulder, holding her close. 

You smile as they finish their embrace, looking away for a moment. Aegon spots you, walking over with his hands in his pockets. You’ve never seen him like this. Shy, almost. 

“Hey,” he says, smiling tightly.

“How have you been?” you ask.

“I’m good, yeah,” he says licking his lips, “I’m doing well.”

“You look great, Aeg,” you tell him, and it's true. 

“How’re you doing?” he asks.

You glance at the group, at everyone so happy and free. It’s like a weight has been lifted from everyone’s shoulders. Even Alicent is smiling, as Rhaenyra talks to her. Everyone is lighter. 

“Really good,” you tell him, “Everything’s good.”

“Okay! Let’s do this, Aegon,” Alicent waves him over to the cake, “this cake is for you, because we are so proud of you, and happy you’re home.”

Aegon walks over to his mother, as everyone takes their seats around the table. Aegon sits in front of the cake and Alicent ruffles his hair, before placing a kiss on top of his head. She leaves her hands on his shoulders, sighing contentedly. 

“The whole party is for you,” Daeron grumbles, earning a smack on the arm from Helaena.

“Ow!”

“Shush.”

“This is awesome, thanks Mom,” Aegon says, placing his hand over hers.

Alicent reaches to grab something on the table. 

“Oh! I forgot the paper plates!” Alicent says frowning.

You stand immediately offering to help.

“I’ll get them, Ali,” you tell her.

“Let me help,” Aemond says, standing with you.

Daeron snorts, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the two of you.

“Cause it totally takes two people to get plates!” he teases as you hurry up the hill. 

Aemond turns around, flipping Daeron off. Alicent frowns disapprovingly, but you can see her smile threatening to break through. Aegon smiles slightly, before looking away. He meets Rhaenyra’s eyes and she gives him a kind smile. 

You make your way up the hill, and through the back door into the spacious kitchen. You grab the paper plates on the counter when Aemond comes up behind you, placing a kiss on your neck. You turn around and he captures your lips in a heated kiss. 

“Aemond,” you hiss as he grabs your ass. 

You move his hand away as he presses his chest into yours, caging you against the counter. He brings a hand to rest against the side of your neck, bringing his lips to the other side.

“We’re in your mom’s kitchen,” you whimper, feeling your resolve fizzle in your skull.

Everyone’s outside, someone could walk in. Aemond’s hands cup underneath your ass, lifting you onto the counter with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer despite your protests. 

“We started all this in a kitchen, if you remember,” Aemond murmurs, nibbling against your neck.

Your eyes flutter shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, getting lost in him. You’d happily stay like this forever. Kissing Aemond, the sounds of the people you love laughing outside in the warm summer air.

“Remind me,” you purr, arching your back to get closer to him. 

“I love you,” Aemond breathes against your lips. 

He says the words he wishes he said that night in the kitchen. 

The words he wished he’d said that morning in the breakfast diner. 

The words he wished he said every time Aegon hurt you. 

The words he’s told you every day since the settlement. 

Now that he has said them, he doesn’t suppose he will ever stop.

That’s perfectly fine with you.

~ The End ~

note: Thank you THANK YOU SO MUCH for joining me on this journey! I'll probably make a sappy post tonight or tomorrow but for now just THANK YOU for the love for this series ILYSM 💚

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