#I didn't know what i would do without him

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[acid-ixx]

prequel: again &. again. (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

read until the end for an author's note.

what hurts more when it comes to neglectful batfam that adopted you after jason's death (that eventually turns a 360 after you have left) is probably the fact that they always had time for you, it's just that they never chose to spend it on you; an extra burden to their family rather than an addition. if they had time to spend, they spend it on anything or anyone else but you. it's not that you don't share interests with them, it's just...! they have way more priorities that push you further back into their list of 'to do's'; though you know you'll always be the last of that list.

bruce has to juggle so many tasks as the billionaire playboy "brucie wayne", a father of an ever growing family, and gotham's dark knight vigilante but somehow, you're aware he could easily fit in one or two more children into his already booked schedule— he just never seems to consider you worthy enough apparently. or maybe it was because you were too silent, you set boundaries compared to your other family who are outspoken about what they want, what they need— but there's one thing for sure that sets you off from your siblings; you're not a vigilante.

you were merely a child of a one night stand; a child raised too well. you were behaved, you never complained, and you were just, you. and being normal (at least in their level of extraordinary talents were you a mere droplet) amongst a family of talented individuals makes you easily a ghost. was bruce to blame with his neglect? definitely. if he was able to balance his life so easily, then maybe as the world's best detective would he notice you packing your things day by day without update. maybe that was why you never once hesitated the moment you stepped outside the manor, permanently.

dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence. sure, he smiles at you with those shiny teeth of his, but despite him looking at you, he never notices you for more than a second, right after he would skidadle his way to another sibling's room, bothering them to spend more time with him, never you though. it occurs to you that he has only entered your bedroom once, and that occurrence was years ago. even then, he didn't last a minute inside there before running away once more.

family matters more than anything to dick. hell, he was enraged at the announcement of jason's death and even beat joker to a bloody pulp when he realized tim fell into his hands. he's ready to defend damian, barbara, steph, cass, and duke with his life. it's his duty and obligation as the family's eldest brother, of course. but were you considered family to him? were you considered a sibling in his eyes, or were you just the resident roommate of the mansion? you question that endlessly because everyone, family and friends, seem to be smitted with dick, but you eventually gave up trying to vye for his attention. it's fine, really, if you were just another civilian to him, because he was just another person to you too. just like in a circus, you would always be the intermission rather than the main event. and with that, you take your leave.

jason was the most forgivable to you, second to tim. he was never there, and he would've probably put effort into spending time with you if not for the fact he despises bruce and the mansion and wouldn't and couldn't last a second stepping into it. he never met you when he was robin, it was only right after his death did he discover were you taken in and that added fact alongside tim being his replacement turned him bitter with resentment. though his hatred for you receded over time, he wouldn't really be caught taking a minute with you because he always sneaks inside the mansion and crime in gotham never seems to lessen. because of that, and your unwillingness to become a vigilante to kick ass with him and the others, he wouldn't be able to fully take an hour with you.

casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you book an apartment away from the wayne manor with your own atm card; hope irreversibly dead and unable to revive a sliver of faith, even if it was dipped in the lazarus pit would it never come back as the same.

tim drake is always tired. just like bruce, his days are filled with investigation, crime fighting, and worst of all; high school. that's of course that least of his worries the moment he drops out. tim was never the guy to talk much. he only does when he needs to make an impression for others, or when he needs to manipulate people for potential information. his life revolved around fighting, from when he solved the case of bruce wayne and dick grayson being batman and robin respectively, up to his current identity as red robin and occasionally robin. he'll often be found in the batcave working with babs on a case or working alone in his room.

it's no mistake that you were the most distant to him, never once knowing about his interests or even hobbies and vice versa. it was a given that at the very moment you pass a glance at him, you knew it was a 'mind your business' type of relationship with him. if you were a mere ghost to dick, then you were just a spec of dust to tim. it was unfair to assume he would never care for you, he does! only in a way where you were another person to save if you ever were endangered, but would that be enough to stalk you to the point he gains every insight about you? not really. you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers. yeah, your feelings about leaving him weren't as bitter as the caffeine he drowns in his system, but you were still hurt either way.

damian wayne, from his birth, was taught and raised to prioritize his mission as an al ghul, to be the one continuing the legacy and to shed blood on anyone who opposes. when he was given over to bruce, it took a hell lot of effort to turn a new page and become the next robin. it was, with no doubt, that despite his 'redemption', he would be a tad bit crueler to you than the others. unlike tim, who he persistently bothers, you were untalented, worthless, and a stain on the reputation of the wayne's. even jason, his father's greatest mistake, had more value than you.

maybe it was fine-tuned jealousy, maybe he was mirroring his father and dick's actions towards you with his own sick twist of violence. either way, you would rather avoid the boy, lest you face the wrath of his sword. it wouldn't be wrong if you came to hate him, actually you do, but despite your endless game of cat and mouse with you as the unwilling victim of the chase, your poor heart couldn't fathom the thought of not excusing his actions as that of a child's. you tell yourself everyday, 'just ignore it, he was raised like as to be a menace after all' but you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together. the resentment eventually builds up until you blow up and just, give up. within your final moments in the manor, you figured to leave some belongings that you collected overtime that were supposedly memorabilias that you wish to show off to your family. like his pieces of art, you could only explain your life in the family as black and white and as bleak as the streaks of charcoal that rubs against the pages.

when dick was jogging through the desolate halls of the manor, he noticed the place seemed to be more... empty of some sort. and he knows pushing that feeling into the back of his head would only result in more questions than answers. so he decides to enter the spare rooms one by one until he comes across your room (he doesn't know it was yours, though), turning the knob without knocking.

that was when his eyes seem to dilate. his nose catched a faint whiff of bleach (was the room deep-cleaned?), vision seemingly closing in on the few furniture left alongside a diary and other boxes left neatly on your bed, with other smaller trinkets left untouched on your bedside table. he didn't remember you mentioning anything about leaving, hell, he doesn't want to admit his lack of memories about you but—

wait...

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago...?

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i have ever done and i like it a lot so i hope whoever reads this likes it too. if you all want to read more of this, then please leave a comment or reblog because i heavily appreciate it and it motivates me further to write this type of content! the reason i have come to a long hiatus is because, as stated, the lack of interaction with content. like i said, i will still write for genshin but i am open to expanding my fandom list. (p.s. i hope you like the way i had to connect their interests or a part of their past to the reader.)

heavily inspired by @klemen-tine's work: Glass Bones and Paper Skin, @gotham-daydreams' work: Not [], and @onmyyan's work: Ain't No Sunshine.

[seeleybooth]

What are you doing out here? - I was... - No. In fact, do not answer that. It is clear I found you in the midst of some... secret dealings. I do not wish to know. And what "secret dealings" have I found you in the midst of, all alone the night before our wedding? What right do you have to ask me that?

/

"He tried to picture a life without Penelope. It was impossible.

Just weeks ago she'd been ... He stopped, thought. What had she been? A friend? An acquaintance? Someone he saw and never really noticed?

And now she was his fiancee, soon to be his bride. And maybe... maybe she was something more than that. Something deeper. Something even more precious.

"What I want to know," he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn't wander down such dangerous roads, "is why you're not jumping on the pet-fect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous."

"Because remaining anonymous isn't the point!" she fairy yelled.

"You want to be found out?" he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.

"No, of course not," she replied. "But this is my work.

This is my life's work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can't take the credit for it, I'll be damned if someone else will."

Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life's work. Penelope had a life's work.

He did not.

She might not be able to put her name on her work, but when she was alone in her room, she could look at her back issues, and point to them, and say to herself, This is it. This is what my life has been about.

"Colin?" she whispered, clearly startled by his silence.

She was amazing. He didn't know how he hadn't realized it before, when he'd already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn't yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.

And he was.... Dear God above, he was jealous of her.

"I'll go," she said softly, turning and walking towards the door.

For a moment he didn't react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when. When he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.

"No," he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. "No," he said again, "I want you to stay."

She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. "but you said---"

He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. "Forget what I said."

And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn't been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he'd reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.

He loved her.

He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life's work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.

And if let her walk out that door right now, he would never forgive himself.

Maybe this, then, was the definition of love. When you wanted someone, needed her, adored her, even when you were utterly furious and quite ready to tie her to the bed just to keep her from going out and making more trouble. This was the night. This was the moment. He was brimming with emotion, and he had to tell her. He had to show her.

"Stay," we whispered, and he pulled her to him, roughly, hungrily, without apology or explanation.

"Stay," he said again, leading her to his bed.

And when she didn't do anything, he said it for a third time.

"Stay." She nodded.

He took her into his arms.

This was Penelope, and this was love."

Romancing Mister Bridgerton, Chapter 17

[cupidhoons]

love.

 ୨୧  moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before . . . ( request )

   g    fluff  short scenarios kissing slightly suggestive hyung line     warnings   not proof-read fmr in mind wc 738 ・  bookshelf    ᡴꪫ       

when heeseung realizes he's in love, it hits him like a truck. he's been thinking about you more than it should be, wanting to be near you more often and having thoughts about kissing your pretty little lips. it drives him insane to the point where he can't take it anymore.

the way you sat in front of him at the café when he took you out. the way you talked, the flirtatious and playful tone you used around him. the way your lips looked, glossed over with a pinkish shade of lip product. he couldn't get you out of his mind.

"heeseung?" you tilt your head while you peak out of the door. "what are you doing here-"

before you know it, his hands cupped your face ever so softly and pressed his lips against yours. the kiss was hungry — as if he'd been deprived of touch. a whine escaped your mouth as he pulled away.

"m'sorry, i couldn't help myself. i like — screw that — love you, y/n."

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jay knows he's in love with you. from the way you look with and without makeup and down to the way you even breath — he's so pathetically in love with you and he knows that. he makes it clear how much he loves you for you.

but, as you sleep beside him, his heart beats faster than ever. jay never knew that he could fall any harder for you.

he looks at your relaxed face, eyes closed as your chest rises up and down. he observes your facial features — your nose, eyebrows, the lips he gets to kiss every waking moment. he soft traces your face, trying hard not to wake you. how did he get so lucky?

he shifts closer to you, placing soft kisses all over your face. "i love you, so much." he whispers softly as he places a small kiss on your forehead.

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growing up, jake always only saw you as his best friend. nothing else. he loved your company and the platonic love you two shared. however, things started to get complicated when you got your first boyfriend. something inside him stirred, seeing you with another guy. he didn't want to come off as possessive or aggressive — but he couldn't help himself. especially when you rant to him about how much your current boyfriend mistreats you.

he knows he shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be throwing punches at this guy, but he's had enough. the guy was a complete bastard. how could he make you cry so much just for him to cheat?

"he doesn't deserve you, y/n. please," he begs as you heal his wounds. you look at him sternly. "find someone better, someone who will treat you right." you chuckle, placing down the ointment you held. "jake," you start, slightly moving your head closer to his. "thank you for standing up for me." you say, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

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sunghoon was never the best at sharing his own thoughts and feelings. it took awhile for him to open up to you in the early stages of your relationship, but once he did, he realized how easy it was to find comfort in you. he told you all sorts of stuff about him. he didn't expect you to remember all of them, but you did.

"hi baby, i got your favorites!" you smile, seating yourself down on the chair across. he looks at the tiramisu, then at you. his eyes widen in shock, making you giggle. sunghoon swears he fell in love with you all over again. he didn't think you would actually remember the small things he told you 2 years ago, before even dating.

"what's that look for, hoon?" he stares at you blankly. did you break your own boyfriend? you laugh, "hello? earth to sung-"

"i'm so in love with you. can we get married?" he blurts. you look at him with widened eyes. "i'm so serious, i think i want to wife you up." he chuckles. you didn't think that it would be a big deal for you to remember little things about him, but it seems that it is.

it doesn't click to sunghoon what he just said until he sees the way your shocked face. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me! it's just-"

"i accept your proposal!" you laugh in response.

this is a draft umm i'll do maknae line soon hopefully ahjakdkfndkfkendk sorry this was really half assed :/

[sparklingblu]

Inferior Activities

Lia x M Reader

"How's the salad?"

"Oh, it's great" you answer as you try not to grimace after swallowing the lettuce that taste no different from paper.

"I made few twists to the dressing, you know. A family secret" The bald man winks as he takes another bite of the potato that would have turned to coal if it have been roasted a minute more.

Studying the plates of green laid out all across the table, you make a firm decision never to become a vegan. At least not if your father in law is gonna be your chef. Lia has warned his cooking skills are terrible but you didn't expect it to be this awful. The only tolerable content of the table seems to be the so-called vegan meat and even that's starting to taste lesser and lesser like meat with each bite. No offense to all those animal loving vegans out there but they really are missing out a lot in their life. You wouldn't have lasted a day if you have to survive without meat.

Your eye flicker up to Lia, seated across, to see if she's on the same page with you on the matter. She lazily plops a broccoli into her mouth, her eyes betraying no signs of disappointment. The corner of her lips twitch in a thin smile as if to mock your suffering. She looks contented even.

In the end, you only have yourself to blame. When Lia suggestsled you visits her dad on the weekends, you agreed with a simple nod. Sure, it's your first time meeting her old man but what could go wrong? Right?

Except that everything does. As soon as you enter the house, the first thing the dude asked you was your opinion on wildlife conservation. At first you thought he was joking then you find out he's actually very serious about the matter. Weather talk would have been a good starter. Seriously, who starts a conversation like that?

Then after seeing the dishes he has prepared, you find out making conversation is the least of your worries. He's your father in law and you have respect for him and all but this dude is horrible at being a vegan. If he calls his mushroom soup which tastes more like mushroom-flavored dishwater 'a masterpiece', you might as well consider becoming a chef. Who knows? Maybe you will even get a couple michelin stars.

You are thinking of a way to escape this organic hell and the constant ear rape about how billions of animals are killed per year for human consumption when Lia finally comes to your aid.

"Dad, we are nearly done. Why don't you go make your signature smoothie? I haven't got the chance to taste it since I left for college" she suggests and the old man's eyes twinkle with maddening joy.

"Oh, of course! How could I forget that? It was your mother's favorite" his tone turns solemn at the mention of his late wife but you are too focused on the idea of finally getting some breathing room to care. "Two smoothies. Coming right up! You will absolutely love it" He winks at you again and leaves the table.

You drop your utensils and exhale in relief. "Finally. I was gonna turn into stone if I hear one more second of his animal talk"

Lia chuckles. "I get used to it after living with him for 18 years. He's actually a really sweeet guy. He just tries to focus on something else after my mom passed, I guess"

If the fact is supposed to make you feel sorry, it doesn't work. But you are not gonna tell her that. "How do you survive with this kind of food all these years?"

"It wasn't always that bad" Belle protests. "And sometimes he even cooks meat. But his skills get rusty with old age"

"Yep, I'm never becoming a vegan"

Lia pouts in annoyance. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad"

"Suits yourself"

"You just hate vegetables in general"

You roll your eyes in feigned annoyance. "Look, who's trying to follow her father's steps"

"Whatever" Lia finally gives up, pushing up her glasses from her nose. "I'm still hungry you know...."

"Maybe we can go to McDonald's or something later"

"No, daddy" Lia's voice turns low and sultry. "You know exactly what I want"

You look around in a panic to see if her dad has overheard your conversation. Thankfully, the guy's busy cutting carrots on the kitchen counter.

"Lia, I told you not to call me that in public. Especially not when your literal dad is right here" you warned, though you can't deny the fact that hearing her call you the name get your blood flowing backwards.

"Oh, come on, daddyyyyy" she pushes on, stressing the last word to make it sound even more fervorous. "I know you secretly love it"

"Look, babe. I love the name but this isn't the right place. Seriously, your dad's right there"

"So what?" Lia puts her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her palms. "Don't you enjoy a little risk?"

"Come on, babe. Not right now. I will make it up to you when you come back"

"But I want it now" Lia whines, the pout reforming on her lips. "Need to taste daddy's big cock. Need it shove down my throat"

"Lia...." you hiss, becoming aware of her tone, increasing by the second.

"Daddy pleaseee" she gives you those bambi eyes she knows you can't resist. "Let me suck your huge cock. I need you to fill up my mouth with your hot cum. I have been a good girl, haven't I? I deserve my reward" Lia runs her tongue along her top lips to punctuate her wish.

With the way her words get your asleep mamba waking up, you already know you are fighting a losing battle but you still need to be the one in charge here. "Alright, fine. But-"

"Oops. I drop my spoon" The metal hits the floor with a loud clang and Lia immediately dives down the table. It's an overused trope. You have seen it in hundreds of porn videos and you are no stranger to it. But you have never thought you would be in a similar situation and this time, the risk is very real. Her dad is not a paid actor who would pretend to be oblivious at the scene which would soon unfold.

"Is everything ok?" Lia's dad shouts from the kitchen counter, now washing.....are those eggplants?

"Yes, mister! We are gold!" You replies, hoping he would stay focused on his veggies.

You look down and find Lia already kneeled between your legs, a flicker of amusement in her eyes behind those glasses. Her lips curve into an impish smile. "Just stay still and let me do all the work, daddy" she whispers, her hands already working on your zipper. With one swift pull, she opens it up, revealing your red underwear underneath. "Oh, daddy's wearing my favorite colour today" Lia muses as she grabs your cock over the thin fabric, her thumb tracing slow circles. "Daddy, you are already so hard"

As much as you want to prolong this pornographic session, her dad is not going to be in the kitchen forever and you don't want to give him a heart attack. "Babe, enough teasing. Make it quick" you warn and her thumb rests on your head, pressing down on that sensitive spot she only knows. You let out a half-formed moan, not daring to be loud.

"You know the magic word, daddy. No need to be so formal" she presses again and you grit your teeth.

"Start sucking my cock, you slut" you calls her by her favorite nickname, which intsantly gets her engines revving.

"Yes, daddy" she release her grip, pulling down your underwear. Your rock hard cock springs out in a flash, hitting her spectacles. "Someone's eager" Lia chuckles, placing her brown locks behind her back, preparing for the main course. Her left hand close around your base, pumping it up and down in an agonizingly slow pace. She looks at your cock like it's something glorious, something she should be worshipping. But that's not so far from the truth. If this slut wants to choke on your cock, you are gonna permit it happily.

"Daddy, you are so big" Lia mutters dreamily, her free hand fondling your balls each at a time. The combination gets your mind cloudy, basking in the pleasure you nearly forget the whole point of this.

"I don't see you sucking my cock?" Lia stops her movements at your words and you nearly reget telling her to stop. But that doesn't last long because Lia instantly starts obliging to your command.

"Patience, daddy" With that, her rosy lips seal around your tip, taking you partly into the warmth of her mouth. Meanwhile, her hands grab your shaft, working in unison with each drag of her lips. The twist of her fingers along with her tongue that swirls around your slit gets you throwing your head back, letting out a graon. Then you quickly recompose not to expose yourself.

Lia doesn't seem to be bothered. Getting caught seems to be the last thing on your mind as she slurps on your head with fevorous vigour. Like it's the most delicous lollipop she has ever tasted. Her tongue gathers up any pre cum that leaks from your slit, taking it straight down to her stomach. She would takes anything your cock has to offer.

Every moment or so, you would check on her dad, making sure the guy's still busy brewing his organic potion which contents are starting to get weirder. But as long as he's busy, you don't care what he's putting into that blender. It's the best for him and you. You doubt the old man would be as merciful to you as he is to wildlife if he finds out his daughter is giving you head under his table.

But the task proves to be harder because Lia's dad would throw you ocassional glances and you have to put on this stupid grin everytime, which is not so easy with how Lia's sucking you off. Now she has taken half your cock into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed with unfathomable suction. Her hair sways with every bob of her head, forming silky waves of hazel. All the while, she keeps her eyes on you behind those circular frames, those pools of black seems to be asking if she's doing a good job.

"God, Lia....just like that" you grip the edge of the table to compensate for not being able to rejoice in the bliss of Lia's wet hole freely. Your head darting up and down as you keep watch on her father as well as enjoy the view between your legs.

Your shaft is now ringed with red as Lia leaves tarces of her lipstick mixed with her saliva while her lips glide smoothly along your cock, making it a red wet mess. Not like you mind. She can keeps messing it up all she wants.

Her tongue action doesn't waver either, licking up any available part but escpecially under your tip to tackle your weak spot each time she takes you in. To add icing on the cake, she has her left hand wrapped around your base to pump the lengths unattended by her mouth, not leaving out any throbbing vein.

You are helpless against her attack, the only action from your side to keeps grabbing the tablecloth into an unshapely tangle. And even that's starting to fail at holding back your moans.

A loud whirring sound fills up the place as Lia's dad starts brewing all those green stuffs in the blender. He gives you a thumbs up and you smile back, shammming excitement. The sound of the blender blades reminding you of the disguisting smoothie you will soon have to drink.

However, Lia takes advantage of the noise by taking your whole length down on her throat, the loud gagging sound lost in the echoes of spinning blades. You take the chance to make any audible sound that would let you express your euphoria. A moan. Then two. Then a couple more. It no longer seems to be ending as Lia devour your cock like a hungry animal, hitting the back of her throat each time she deeothroats.

Drops of saliva litters the ground. The evidences of Lia's godly work. Gags after gags escape her mouth in rhythm with your moans. However, escape won't be suitable here with the way your cock is blocking her airway. But that isn't a problem because she would choose your dick over oxygen.

The blender keeps whirring and Lia keeps choking on your cock. Her glasses now tilted at a strange angle from the force of her movement, the temple hanging on one ear only. Currently, her vision isn't as important as the taste of your dick on her tongue.

Lia finally pulls back, trails of saliva running from your tip to her lips. A waterfall of saliva staining her white shirt. Her tongue rolled out and her temples dripping with sweat.

"Daddy....am I...good?" she pants like a bitch in heat, all her lipsticks all gone.

"Very. But you gotta finish what you start my little slut"

"Yes, daddy. Feed me your thick cum. I want it all"

"Then come and take it"

Lia dives back on your cock, immeditaely swallowing your whole length. You groans out at the burst of pleasure, her throat constricted around your shaft. Lia holds her position, her nose pressed to your pelvis for a few moment before pulling back, just to start fucking her throat on your cock again and again.

The sound of the blender stops and you hear the clink of glasses. Turning your head, you find Lia's dad pouring the green liquid into two glasses. It would only be a few minutes before he comes back.

Lia seems to realize to because her lips form an airtight seal around your head and her hands satrt pumping your shaft furiously. Using all your willpower to hold out from finishing earlier leaves no strength left to withstand Lia's final assault. Your cock starts throbbing and soon you are spilling your cum into her mouth. Some reaching her tongue, the other flowing straight down her throat. Lia's fingers keep twisting back and forth and you empty the last drops of your protein rich fluid into her welcoming hole.

You close your eyes, breathing hard. The relief is instant as much as the build up is agonizingly blissful. Lia releases your cock with a pop and lick up the remnants of cum on the tip. You are too lost in the euphporic finale you totally forget the perilous situation you are in. When you realize, it's too late.

Lia's dad is near the table, two glasses of the green smoothie in his hands. His face is a mixture of shock and distress as he stands rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her daughter's face a few centimeters away from your spent cock. His mouth opens but before he can speak, Lia chimes in.

"Thanks for the meal daddy. But I don't think I'm going to need the smoothie. I already have dessert"

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[maopll]

Helloooo!!!! really interesting event you have going on here :D . a couple pennies for my request?

Can I get a "Hot things they do" prompt with

HSR: Jing Yuan, Sunday, and Boothill Genshin: Neuvillete and Pantalone

Gn!Reader please and thank you <3

HOT THINGS THEY DO

⋆·˚ you swoon over and practically drool whenever he does something which you love to the moon and back. even the simplest of things has you feeling something burning and fluttering inside ...

note : anon you've got tastes. I don't know if there is anything particular I like that they do everything will have me folding over.

sfw // fluff a lil goofy, slight suggestive gn!reader

— ୨ JING YUAN ୧

His breathy laughter is the best of both worlds. Nothing compares to it. Although you are a big fan of his chuckle whenever he is in a tight spot or has it figured out, his laughter is still incomparable.

But he kind of disagrees with you on this since he would have approved it if it was his thighs. He knows how thick they are and how the strap around his upper thigh makes it look even more enticing. "Who says I don't like it?" you retort.

— ୨ SUNDAY ୧

Whenever he is in deep thought, he would leave his pen, cross his arms and would run his fingers through his hair. Most of the time his hair is prim and proper. But when he puffs his chest up in frustration , eyes squinting , and hair a little bit messy, you can confirm that you become like a victorian man seeing ankles.

"Is this the way you like it?" Sunday says a bit unsure as he is practically wearing something that looks diametrically opposite from what he wears. Shirt, jeans, jacket, cap and all the items that screams 'rock metal genre'.

"Stay still pretty boy I need a good picture for my wallpaper"

— ୨ BOOTHILL ୧

"Babe I find you really hot when you threaten people to kill them whenever they try being real mushy mushy with me"

"You muddle fudger I can't even curse them with the real scary words and you liked that?" Boothill stares at you bewildered. "Your synesthesia beacon working overtime and your hands pointing the gun at him as you threaten to do the wildest shit to him if he ever touches me is very very hot you wouldn't understand". He would usually comply with whatever you say but this time he truly thinks that you've got a few screws loose there. But maybe that's your charm and your 'hot thing'.

"Well if you find THAT hot then ..." he swifts you off your feet and places his hat onto your head "don't you like it when I do this hmm sweetie ?"

— ୨ NEUVILLETTE ୧

While the things or his actions are mostly adorable or gentlemanly, even he has his sides which would leave your heart beating fast and hard. But oh lord have mercy on you because when he would tie his hair messily to focus on his paperwork, you fold.

Neuvillette was about to sit down after he tied his hair in a ponytail, but you noticed his tied hair and without thinking you blurted out,

"Do it again"

"Do what again ?"

"Tie your hair again.. I wanna see..."

He obliged to your request like he usually does even though he was a little confused, but when he turned around to face you, you were blushing HARD and one of your hands was on your chin as if scrutinising his every movement and every flex of his muscles. Neuvillette just chuckled at your antics. "Like what you see dear?" "Very much..." you strided towards him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. No matter how many times you ask such silly requests of him, he will always fulfil them.

— ୨ PANTALONE ୧

You didn't know what captivated you to like pantalone and you wanted to find what was something he did that made you find it hot. Lo and behold you found it when he was threatening one of the fatui members.

Two new recruits were standing at esse in front of Pantalone, who was eyeing them from top to bottom. "So... cryogunner... what was the order?" The cryogunner, after swallowing down the lump in his throat with hesitation, replied, "s— sir ... we had to take down the owner of the illegal organisation–"

"And what was the result I received?" his voice cold and eyes piercing. His anger were visible in his eyes even though it did not reflect on his face. "Out of my sights right now the punishment that you two will receive for not abiding to the order will be not so savoury"

The two fatui scurried away after shouting a 'yes sir'. After they left, he removed his glasses and scrunched his face rubbing his temple. Looks like more work got added to his already pending list of tasks. His eyes were full of wrath and anger muttering archons know what

you chuckle "you know your face is doing things to me babe"

"dear I'm not in the mood—" but looking at your face has him rethinking his decision. You biting your lips and eyes dazed... hmm looks like you've found the way to relieve his stress then?

"It's going to be a rough day hm? dear"

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Love at first (club) Meeting.

Damian wants to make friends in school. He asked Colin what he should do to get this accomplishment after months of failure.

The friend recommended joining school clubs, affectionately telling him that he was in a sewing club at his own public school.

Damian didn't see how getting into an organization dedicated to some hobby was going to cause friendships, but Colin seemed to have a decent amount of friends when he wasn't running around as Abuse.

He went to check on the clubs available, but nothing really got his attention. There was the art club but only one meeting told him that it wasn't for him. The club was more for his classmates to stand around and chit chat.

None of them actually did any art, seeing as the ussually club advisor was away on maternity leave. The substitute is the baseball couch on off-season, and although he encouraged everyone to draw, it wasn't the same amount of fun as normal activities.

The other kids assured him that they would be painting and sculpting once Mrs. Flor came back, but Damian didn't want to wait.

So he leaves and tries to find a new one. The world history club bored him with useless trivia, and the chess club had no worthy challengers.

Damian decides to try one last time before giving up, when he encounters Daniel Fenton trying to get a second signature for his Ghost Hunting Club.

Fenton is from outside of Gotham. He moved here with his family after Father bought out his family business, having turned their research into defenses against aliens. Damian had seen him around school, but other than the occasional bully, no one paid too much attention to him.

Gotham Academy had four requirements for a student run club. There had to be two members to be officially started. They needed to keep a clear recap of their club minutes, a teacher had to sign as their advisor and, for the first two years, had to be without a bank account.

Fenton held up his pathetic sign-up sheet in front of passing students. He stammers, "Would like to join the Ghost hunter-um if I could bother you for a moment - are you interested in-excuse me"

Damian watches Fenton try over and over to ask for a second club memeber, but no one bothers to even hear his full question. They walk right by him as if though they could see through Fenton. He can't say why but that upsets him.

Before Damian knows what he's doing he finds his feet marching towards Fenton. The boy is staring down at his clipboard with a disheartened expression before he spots Damian.

Fenton's jaw drops, and his eyes grow impossiblely wide as Damian gets closer. He draws his clip board up to his chest, staring at the Wayne as if he was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.

Surely Damian is not that different looking than any other human. Why is he acting like that?

"Good morning," He says when he finally stands in front of Fenton. The boy's face turns s red "I am Damian Wayne."

"Hi, I'm Danny, um Fenton, I'm Danny Fenton," the other rambles while nervously tapping his fingers on the back of the clipboard.

"Well, met Fenton. I overheard you are requesting signatures for a club?"

"Oh!" Fenton turns the clipboard but in his haste it slips from his hold, landing on the ground with loud thump. Damian raises a brow while Fenton breaks out into a sweat.

Damian leans down to grab the board at the same time, Fenton throws himself forward, and he sees the collusion before it happens, but Damian knows that a regular child wouldn't be able to dodge it without raising questions. He allows Fenton's forhead to slam against his with a hiss.

"I'm sorry!" Fenton gasps out, but Damian heeds him no mind, as he signs the form with a flourish. The harsh strokes of his pen echo in the hallway, informing Damian that he needs to head to class before the second bell.

"I shall see you after school. We can see the famous haunted bathroom in the gym. " He tells the fool, slapping the clipboard into the boy's hand. Damian twists on his heel, strutting away. He throws a hand over his shoulder, calling back. "Ta"

He misses the look of utter awe adoration aimed at his back or the rapid growing infatuation in his clubmates' eyes.

It's the start of Damian's very odd club because he finds he actually enjoys walking around the school trying to find readings for ghosts. He even enjoys following Fenton to abandon buildings, dark sewers and sitting around with childish recordings asking for any signs of the afterlife.

That's mostly due to how nervous Fenton was when wandering into haunted places. He finds great joy in watching Fenton try to put a brave face on despite shaking in his boots when a ghost might be around.

It may be cruel of Damian, but it's highly entertaining.

Danny is not scared of ghosts - that would be a bit counterproductive given his Halfa status. He is crushing hard on Damian Wayne, and when he has a crush, he gets ridiculous nervous around them that it's easier to blame the shaking, the sweating and shuttering on phasmophobia.

But could anyone blame him? Damian Wayne is a walking work of art, so much that when Danny first saw him in the hallway, he was half sure, the surroundings had dimmed.

He wasn't exaggerating when Danny thought Damian had stardust and white doves floating around his head at all times. He was that stunning.

And he had walked up to Danny to join his club, the one he had been trying for almost a week to get started because he was tired of being a friendless loser and took up Sam's advice in a desperate last ditch effort. He is so glad he had that video call with her because without it, he would never have gotten to speak to Damian.

They were in different classes, had different lunch periods, and frankly, Damian was the son of the richest man in the country. Danny was the random kid on scholarship with creepy ghost powers hunting other ghosts.

He wrote poems about Damian's eyes when flying over Gotham, sighing like a pathetic school boy. He also dodges a kuni shoot at him by Robin.

Ugh, he hates that guy. He's so rude and has been trying to hunt Danny down ever sense they arrived in Gotham. He was scary good at what he did, and the only reason Danny stayed free was Robin not understanding that he was after a ghost.

Robin thought he was a meta and had attack because of that. Which, racist much? Danny openly mocked him just to get on Robin's nerves.

Batman let Robin cause after the meta because he could tell from that little smile as he raced after the glowing figure that Damian found the other attractive. It reminds him of his early years chasing Catwoman across the rooftops.

Maybe Gotham wasn't so bad a move after all.

[misc-obeyme]

Demon Brothers as Subs Headcanons

Almost didn't post this 'cause I'm feeling self conscious about it for some reason. So here's me being brave. I told y'all I was in a smut phase. I'm so sorry. Just gonna drop this and run, see ya.

GN!MC x the demon brothers

NSFW MDNI

Note: There are a lot of warnings, but most of this stuff is just briefly mentioned. These are headcanons of things they'd be into.

Warnings: Dom!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, toys, praise, humiliation, degradation, spanking, edging, orgasm denial, collaring, begging, dacryphilia, role play, voice kink, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, exhibitionism, shibari, food play, hot wax, breath play, blood kink, somnophilia. I THINK THAT'S IT.

Lucifer

He won’t do it until he’s comfortable with you. It takes some time, a little coaxing, and constant reassurance. You have to earn his trust if you want to see him being vulnerable. Once he’s agreed, though, you find him surprisingly compliant. He’s ready to take every order, easily falling into the role of obedience.

Once he’s fully comfortable with you, Lucifer likes to release all control. He wants to be told what to do, to surrender fully. He loves to be restrained. He enjoys watching you take the time to tie him up carefully. He’ll surprise you by requesting a gag. He likes to feel a bit helpless, like he can’t even speak to you, completely at your mercy. He appreciates a blindfold for the same reason.

Just as he wants you to give him orders, he wants you to enforce them, too. If he fails to do what you ask, he wants you to punish him for it. Lucifer has a high pain tolerance but a low humiliation tolerance. Pulling him over your knee for a spanking would be effective, but he might ask you to use an implement simply because he knows your hand won’t be enough. If he does manage to say anything about it, though, he’s blushing and refusing to look at you because the embarrassment is really the worst part. If you do punish him, it won’t be long before he’s whimpering in your lap, promising to be good and begging you to touch him.

Lucifer will swear you to secrecy. If you ever tell anyone, MC, especially his brothers, about any of the things he says and does during these times, he’ll kill you himself. These are empty threats, of course, because he wouldn’t do any of this at all if he didn’t trust you to keep it to yourself. He just feels the need to threaten you about it because it makes him feel better.

Mammon

He doesn’t have as much of a hang up about this and will readily agree to sub for you if you ask him. He’s going to be slightly embarrassed about it, but not enough for it to be an issue. And once you get into it, his embarrassment dissipates because he’s so focused on how good you make him feel.

Mammon is the one with a praise kink. He doesn’t like punishments and is far more likely to respond well to positive reinforcement. If you want to rile him up any time and any place, all you have to do is call him a good boy. He might even do things for you without you asking just to see if you’ll say it.

He also enjoys being tied up. He likes to feel that he’s entirely in your hands. He isn’t too fond of gags because he likes to be vocal. He’s always babbling the whole time you’re doing anything with him and it’s usually all begging. If you tell him to be quiet, it will be difficult for him. And anyway, it’s far more satisfying listening to him cry and whine and repeat your name over and over.

Mammon likes to be considered your property. If you want to collar him, he’s happy to wear it. He doesn’t care who sees it and if someone asks, he’ll tell them about it proudly.

While praise is his preference, he’ll be okay with a little humiliation, too. Please talk dirty to him, MC. Call him your little slut and he’ll be agreeing with you and asking for more.

He loves accessories and toys. Put that man in a harness, give him a cock ring, or one of those shiny bejeweled anal plugs. He loves to dress up for you, especially if it's in something sparkly or gold.

Also loves to be fucked. Let him sit in your lap and ride you (or your strap) and he’ll lose himself entirely. He won’t last long, but he’s also ready to go again quickly.

Leviathan

Although Levi is clearly the subbiest of subs, he’s also extremely nervous. You gotta calm that anxiety a little bit if you want him to make it through the experience without having a heart attack.

Because of this anxiety, he might not be willing to do it for a little while. He needs a bit of reassurance, to feel fully safe with you, before he’s willing to try it. Make sure you talk to him about everything ahead of time and establish some solid safe words.

Once he’s agreed, though… well, we all know Levi is the one with the humiliation kink. And not just calling him names, he wants you to degrade him. Tell him how useless and gross he is. Just make sure you give him some after care where you tell him that you don’t actually think that way about him. He won’t realize how much it matters to hear you say that until you do.

Alternatively, surprise him by praising him instead. It will shock him so much, he might start to cry. D-do you really mean that, MC?

Turns out, Levi is a bit of crier in general. It’s the embarrassment. He blushes so easily and when you make him feel good, especially in a humiliating way, he can’t help the physical reaction of tears. They’ll end up streaming down his cheeks by the time you’re done.

He’s not sure about punishment at first, but if you suggest it he’s willing to try it out. This can range from orgasm denial to spanking. He’s surprisingly receptive once he gets comfortable with the idea. He might find he prefers to be good, but occasionally he can get really bratty. So you might have to get a bit creative to bring him back in line. When you do, it flusters him so bad he doesn't do anything even remotely brat like for a long time.

Satan

Easily the most stubborn when it comes to getting comfortable enough to sub for you. It’s going to take a lot of trust and reassurance, even more than Lucifer. But eventually, you can convince him.

He will be much more receptive if you include something cute like a cat collar or even a maid dress. He likes the way you react to him and he also just likes to wear those things himself. They make him feel like he can let his guard down a little easier.

Satan does not like humiliation and will not respond well to this. He needs a gentle touch. He loves praise and a little pampering - he will be happy if you focus all your attention on him. He’ll accept a soft dom situation best. Tell him he’s a good boy, but be firm when you need to.

He has a voice kink. Tie him up and blindfold him then read erotic stories or romantic poetry to him. If you really want to rile him up, whisper dirty talk in his ear. He won’t like insults, but he will love to hear you describe what you want to do to him.

Satan also likes pain. Bite him, please, he wants to feel your teeth in his flesh. He likes the way the marks look on him, too, but he’ll insist they only arise in locations he can easily hide. He’s too embarrassed to let anyone else but you see them.

Requires plenty of after care, kisses, and praise. Take care of him well enough and he’ll even suggest it himself next time. But if you ever breathe a word of it to anyone else, he'll be in demon form so fast you won't know what hit you. Be careful because he will turn the tables on you, MC.

Asmodeus

Not even a question. Asmo is ready to do whatever you want, any time. He will sub for you without question, but don’t misunderstand him. He likes doing both and although he’s willing to do just about anything, he still has preferences.

He likes to be worshiped. He’ll indulge you if you want to humiliate him, but he thrives on being told how stunning and beautiful he is. He just wants to hear you say that he’s the only one you’re interested in, whether it’s true or not.

Although Asmo doesn’t have a problem with things that leave marks, he’s hesitant to do anything that could cause lasting issues for his skin. Just be careful with his delicate body, MC! But he’s also willing to let quite a bit slide in the name of feeling good. He does like a little pain with his pleasure and his favorite is hair pulling. Doesn’t leave a mark and it's easily fixed in the after math.

He also enjoys being on display. He always wants to have mirror sex or semi-public sex. If you’re into exhibitionism, he will agree to that readily. Let him perform for you (and anyone else who happens to be around).

Similarly, he’s happy to take orders that involve doing a strip tease or a lap dance. He likes to do role play and will dress up as anything you want. Also loves shibari, tie him up in some beautiful knots, please.

Finds punishments a little funny. He can get a little bit bratty about it. But if you seem like you’re really annoyed with him, he’ll switch to being obedient real quick. But he enjoys things like orgasm denial because oh what a rush! He sees it as a challenge. How much can he take? Far more than you’re likely anticipating.

Beelzebub

He will absolutely sub for you if that’s what you want. A very good boy who is willing to do just about anything to make you happy. He’s not embarrassed about it at all and he’s ready to dive right in.

Generally, he’ll do anything you want. Very easy, very compliant. He likes when you give him orders. He likes when you tell him what to do. He knows that if he does well, you’ll be happy with him and he likes that.

Beel likes praise, but he doesn’t have a problem with humiliation, either. In fact, it’s a little difficult to really humiliate him. He’s not easily embarrassed or flustered, he’s solid and steady, so you’ll have to work hard if that’s what you want. He likes to use a title for you, like master or whatever variation you prefer.

He considers any kind of food play a reward from you. If you involve the usual things like whipped cream or chocolate, he sees it as you doing something special just for him. And he’ll work hard to please you, even more than usual. Thank you for this treat, MC.

He can take a lot. He enjoys pain. Biting, spanking, hot wax, even choking, any of the above will be something he enjoys. He likes that he can feel both pleasure and pain at the same time. It gives him a rush and he gets excited about it, almost without meaning to. Similarly, he enjoys being tied up, blindfolded, or gagged. He likes when you’re in total control of him.

The only thing Beel really doesn’t like is edging. He’s fine with overstimulation, but edging will frustrate him. He can’t take too much of that and will absolutely devolve into begging you for release pretty quickly.

Since he's basically impossible to embarrass, he has no problem telling anyone and everyone what you get up to with him. You might have to be the one to tell him to keep it to himself, he just doesn't understand why anyone would care.

Belphegor

He likes the idea of subbing because he thinks it involves less work for him. But he is by far the brattiest sub of all the brothers. So he’s right because you’re the one with your work cut out for you. Be prepared to become a brat tamer.

He’ll take easy orders, but give him anything too involved and he’ll get petulant. Surprisingly, responds well to you being rough with him. If you’re going to be the dom, he really wants you to dominate him. He likes it when you manhandle him.

Yes okay he likes the breath play. But he also enjoys pain in general. He has a blood kink. Bite him and make him bleed. He’s gonna love any kind of vampire role play, he’ll straight up drink your blood if you want him to.

Belphie wants you to humiliate him. Tell him he’s a dirty whore, use him however you like. If you let him, he'll dish it right back to you, though.

Obviously into somnophilia. Is he asleep when you wanna fuck him? Go right ahead, MC. He doesn’t need to be awake for you to make use of him. Though if you start, he might wake up just so he can get off, too. If that happens, expect him to mouth off at you until you take him in hand.

Belphie is another one who will wear a collar all the time if you want him to. He likes strappy leather things and will gladly wear a harness or any other such items. He doesn’t care too much about blindfolds or gags, but he does like being tied up.

He doesn’t care who knows about the way he submits to you. If you want him to wear a collar, he’ll make sure it’s visible to everyone. Similarly into exhibitionism. It feels like he’s almost daring anybody to say anything about it.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[2neaky]

24 Hours, Someone There When She Need

It's that time of the month ... well, almost.

—5.1 k words! content warnings: ovulation, emphasis on pms symptoms (whether realistic or not), moody/petty reader, attentive bf Connie, p in v, b*ckshots, vulgar s*x talk, cr*eampie—(☆) will be used in place of "Y/N" (banners by @adornedwithlight)

The deep slope of her stomach curves gently, just barely a muffin over the tight hem of her sweats. If she hadn't been staring so closely, analyzing every inch of her reflection's figure, she wouldn't have even noticed it.

But the sight is enough to have her kiss her teeth, the sharp sound slicing through the air.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Bringing dainty fingers to the area where her stomach protrudes the most, she presses the tips into her warm skin. What she expects to to feel is the plushness of her abdomen.

Not a taut surface, feeling as though it's stretched to its full capacity. Or the sharp pang of an ache deep in her lower stomach. A hiss slips past her thick, two-toned lips.

"Fuck." She presses more, prodding at different spots to see if her body would have the same reaction. All she notices is the gradual change in where her bloated stomach had grown tight and where it had remained somewhat soft.

In all her twenty-odd years of living, (☆) had never expected be one of the unlucky few who got bloated. This is a first, and she desperately wishes for it to be the last time.

What did she eat to cause this? God, she hopes it isn't because of that bread she ate last night. A gluten allergy this late in the game would fucking suck.

And this is uncomfortable, at best. Her stomach feels tight and overall, she just feels heavier than usual. Not to mention the pain. It echoes from the inside out.

She whines at the unfairness of it all before defeatedly lifting her chin to let her shirt fall back over her stomach.

Correction—her boyfriend's shirt.

(☆) prays the bloating will go away before the end of the day.

Nursing the carton of passion fruit sorbet in her lap, (☆) watches the Tv screen with wide eyes. The anticipation regarding the killer's next moves only grows.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she whispers to herself, a spoonful of the sour treat stuck in her hand as she refuses a bite without seeing what happens next.

The shift and click of the front door, rather than the movie, has her jumping out of her seat. She looks over at it just in time to see Connie pushing his way into their apartment. The sight of which makes her heart skip a beat.

"Oh my fucking God, you scared the shit outta me," she laughs, breathless and holding her chest. She stretches forward to place her carton of sorbet on the coffee table.

"My fault ... didn't mean to do that," he smiles, shrugging off his jacket to place it in the nearby coat closet.

"You're good," she hums, making her way over to greet him.

Just as he's free, (☆) slides a hand up his chest, bracing herself as she leans in on her tippy-toes to plop a juicy kiss on his lips.

"Hey, baby," she beams, pulling back to look up at him through her fluffy mink lashes.

"Hey." His voice is soft and the traces of his cologne from earlier today flood her nose. "What you been doing?"

She shrugs and glances back at the Tv still playing in the dark living room. "Just watching a movie." Turning back, her eyes zero-in on her boyfriend's handsome face. If it were possible, her eyes would be two giant, blood-red hearts. "I missed you, though."

Her other hand joins its twin, still resting on his chest. In tandem, they slide up and around his shoulders. And Connie knows better than to not do anything about that; pale, tattooed arms encircle her waist.

Hugging her tight, his face immediately falls into the crook of her neck, her warm skin smelling like her usual rose-scented lotion.

"Missed you, too," he mumbles.

The vibration of his voice pulls a gentle giggle out of her. Connie pulls back from the crook of her neck, only to press a kiss to the portion of her forehead, where the band of her bonnet doesn't reach.

"How was work today?"

He does a half-shrug, not at all concerned with shit that's got to do with that place. Not when he's got his baby in his arms. Working at an auto-body shop isn't as exciting as it seems. "Regular shit. But I'm not tryna talk about that right now."

Another giggle. "Okay." (☆) sighs, the smile on her lips falling into a soft pout. "Why can't you just stay home with me?"

He scoffs, a teasing smile on his pink lips. "And who's gonna buy you all that expensive shit when you wanna go on your little shopping trips?"

With a playful roll of the eyes, she replies, "Fine. I just hate when you're gone so long."

Both of his dark, well-groomed brows pull together as he smile of confusion tugs at his lips. "It's just work, babe. You okay?"

(☆) blinks. "Yeah, why? I can't miss my man?"

"Ion know," he laughs, unsure. "You just ... Ion know."

"As your girlfriend, it should be normal that I just want to be buried in your skin at all times. C'mon now, Connie. You should know that."

Confusion melts away as he allows himself to fully laugh at her joke. "Aight."

Finally, they pull away. He steps into the living room, flipping on the lights. "You ain't go to work today?"

Taking up her carton of sorbet, (☆) goes for the forgotten bite. "Nope. I wasn't feeling it." Her tongue curls around the cool, silver spoon filled with the fruity, sour treat.

He hums, heading into the kitchen, (☆) following just a couple of feet behind.

"You might get your wish tomorrow."

Now it's her turn to look confused.

"I'm home tomorrow," he smiles, answering her silent question.

Gasping, her lips stretch upward. "Forreal?"

"Yeah, you got me all day."

Excitement isn't even the word. Before she can think of anything to say, Connie stretches over the island to pluck the spoon from her hand, stealing a bite of her sorbet.

"Hey!"

He takes the carton, too.

"You shower yet?"

She shakes her head, frowning as she watches him devour her favorite flavor.

"Good." He shovels another spoonful into his mouth. "I'ma meet you in there."

The hot pellets of water hit her body and cascade down her skin, covering her in a blanket of warmth. Suds crawl down her person and towards the drain.

(☆) can't wait for Connie any longer. Where is he?

As she watches a soapy bubble slip down her navel, her thoughts are brought back to her stomach. Fingers skate over the smooth and hot skin.

She's still bloated, though her stomach is a tiny bit softer. She hopes it isn't too noticeable.

The shower door pulls open and cool air rushes in, hitting her. It's slightly refreshing.

"You having fun in there?"

As the question leaves Connie's mouth, his gaze dips, noticing (☆)'s hands on her stomach. Immediately, they drop away.

"I already cleaned, you took too long," she rolls her eyes. "And hurry up and get in ... you letting all the steam out."

"Good." He steps into the shower, closing the door behind him. "You got the whole bathroom fogging up." He slides in right behind her, his body adding more heat to the shower. "Could barely even see two feet in front'a me."

She wants to roll her eyes again, because how dare he have her wait this long?

But, the urges dies away as soft hands grip her wide hips and warm lips are pressed into the side of her neck. Her rigid body relaxes.

Much like this bathroom, her mind fogs over as his hands travel up the sides of her body, only to slide up under her breasts to cup them.

And all (☆) can think about in this moment is how good his touch feels ... and how good it would be to get some dick right now.

His lips are moving against her neck. He's speaking and she's not even listening to the words coming out of his mouth.

Absolutely nothing can take her out of this moment ... except for the sharp pain that strikes throughout her boobs.

"Ow!"

She yanks away to face him.

"What?" His eyes are wide in panic, bouncing all over her face.

"Why did you squeeze so hard?" She almost yells, caressing her tender chest.

"My bad," he starts, eyes on her red-tinged skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you." His face creases with worry. "I thought you liked it, I usually squeeze 'em like that."

"Okay, well it hurt," she frowns.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice softening.

A tiny sigh slips past her lips. "Don't squeeze, just hold."

He nods. "Wash my back?"

"Yeah," she says, grabbing his wash net from the shelf. As she lathers it with soap, he turns his back to her. Ready, she begins with a. light scrub across the expanse of his skin.

The curves, ridges and dents of Connie's back shine through his tattoos. His biggest pieces are here. But the one that matters the most is pretty small—sitting on the perch of his shoulder: her name.

Slowly, Connie turns for her. (☆) keeps quiet, all of her attention poured into ensuring that he is squeaky clean.

Well ... until he focuses on just his body. And—fuck—his soap smells so good.

Her free hand presses to his bare chest, fingers splayed out against his tattoos. Before she realizes, she slips her hand down his stomach.

Her mind is running. Right now, she can skip all the foreplay. Shit, even head. Taking Connie in the shower would be so perfect.

Bent over, bracing the wall as he pounds into her from behind. Dick reaching so deep—

Her lower stomach aches wonderfully at the thought. And speaking of ache, she's sure his dick could fix that.

"Uh-uh, keep your focus."

Dark eyes flick upward to stare into his. A smirk ghosts at his lips.

"I can't touch it a little bit?"

The lust in her eyes is there, tangible. He almost laughs out of pure shock.

"You know Ion like shower sex," he smiles gently, taking up her hand to slips his fingers in between hers.

"Connie," she whines before kissing her teeth. "C'mon, please?"

"Nah, baby, we could do it after. I promise." He leans in to plant a kiss on her temple.

However, (☆) pulls away, even snatching her hand out of his hold. Frustration contorts her face.

"Why the fuck would we do it after we just showered?"

His eyebrows raise at her sudden switch in tone. "Woah."

"That's stupid, Connie. Like, what the fuck?"

Now he's making a face. "(☆)—"

Sucking her teeth, she pushes open the shower door and steps out.

And as good as her ass looks walking away, Connie can't help but to be thrown off.

By the time Connie had left the shower, (☆) was already in bed. The covers were pulled over her shoulders, and her back was turned to him.

"(☆) ... (☆)."

No answer.

"You serious right now?"

He's talking to himself. Sucking his teeth, Connie decides to move on with himself. He lotions his skin after drying off and gets dressed before climbing into bed.

The silence on (☆)'s end continues into the next morning, apparent by the other side of the bed left empty. Usually, she would wake him up.

It's only fair that Connie be pissed.

This is his day off, he's supposed to be enjoying it with her. How the fuck is he going to do that when she's ignoring him?

He doesn't even understand the reason for it either. It wasn't like he flat-out rejected her. He just said "not now."

And (☆) knows he doesn't like shower sex. It's too cramped and too slippery. Last time they did it, he almost slipped and busted his head open.

Scary times.

Shit, (☆) even agrees with him, regarding his feelings on shower sex. At least she usually did.

Either way, it just brings him back to his point—there was no reason for her to blow up at him like that. And there's no reason for her to be this upset.

He just hopes the silence doesn't last all day.

Sitting at the island, he shoves a spoonful of cereal and milk into his mouth. Because, of course, she only made breakfast for herself.

As he eats silently, he watches her stand at the electric kettle, waiting for the water to come to a full boil. There's a mug nearby, the tag for the raspberry tea bag hanging over the cup.

The kettle clicks as it shuts off. Carefully, she takes it up and pours the steaming water into the mug. As she does so, he eyes her closely, not caring to be caught.

Her tank top is tight against her body, practically a second skin. And it's making her boobs look great.

Totally an inappropriate time to be thinking this, he knows. God, he's like a horned up teenager. But he can't deny the obvious.

And usually, her boobs always look good. He's never been one to complain about them. But there's something about them today, he can't put his finger on it.

They look more ... full? A little heavier than usual.

And now that he's looking so closely, her nipples are poking. He glances up at her face, seeing that she's still choosing to ignore his staring.

Dammit, if that doesn't piss him off even more. Because even in a state of having just gotten out of bed, she looks beautiful. Her skin's got that soft, morning glow that's making it look all clear and her lips look so plump and kissable.

Why did they have to be fighting?

He shakes his head with a quiet sigh, lips pressed together in annoyance.

As (☆) turns to place the kettle back, his eyes move elsewhere on her body—her stomach. The bottom of it peaks out from under the end of her camisole, making it fit like a baby-tee.

Now, (☆)'s never had the flattest stomach or abs. He's okay with that, more than okay—he loves her soft tummy. But ... this isn't her usual stomach pudge.

It's got a roundness to it that, honestly, has got him second-guessing if she's still on birth control. Or if the shit is even working.

If he were dumb—or just didn't know his own girlfriend—he'd assume she's at least in her first trimester.

As he looks back up at her face, he finds her glaring back at him. His mouth opens—he doesn't even know what he wants to say. But, before the words spill out, she's walking out of the kitchen and back to their bedroom.

"C'mon, bro," he sighs out.

(☆) resurfaces minutes later, this time, dressed in one of his t-shirts. It completely sheathes her figure, causing him to frown.

"(☆)—"

"What?"

He buffers for a second, conflicted on what to acknowledge first: her odd ass behavior or that fucking attitude?

He decides to give her some leeway. "Yo, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." Her tone is flat and her words are quick.

"(☆), quit playing. I'm serious."

"I said 'nothing,' Connie, oh my God." Exhaling, she grabs her mug and takes a sip of her tea.

He eyes her for a moment. Clearly, she's in no mood for a mature or sensible conversation. And bringing up his concern for her stomach would be like shooting himself in the foot.

God, it's his day off! He doesn't want to argue with her. Today is supposed to be enjoyable and relaxing.

Whatever's going on with her, he just wants to fix it so he can get back to loving on her.

Desperate for a solution to this problem, Connie decides to be the bigger person and send out the first peace offering.

Shortly after breakfast, Connie had left the apartment.

Despite her aversion to holding a real conversation with him, a wave of frustration washes over (☆).

He just left without saying a word.

That really got to her, enough that the backs of her eyeballs began to prickle with the production of tears.

God, is she really about to cry over this?

They've had much worse fights. This isn't even a real fight? What the fuck is going on with her?

And why the fuck is she still bloated?

It's worse today, too! She wants to fucking scream. And Connie noticed, she knows he did. He was practically analyzing her body earlier.

Even worse, her boobs are even more sore than they were last night. And the ache in her stomach had grown into full on cramps, attacking her every five to 10 minutes or so.

God, she feels like shit.

With the presence of the cramps, she starting to fear the presence of her period. She isn't supposed to get it for another week. But she's wetter than usual, and it's got her fearful that at any moment it could be blood.

Her body is not on her side today, clearly, and it's fucking with her self-esteem. Who knows how long these symptoms are going to last?

Hopefully, they'll go away before her actual period starts.

But at this rate, it seems like she's going to be wearing baggy shirts for the next couple of days.

As he drives, Connie's mind doesn't stray from the thought of (☆).

Her stomach, her irritability—the raspberry tea. All those signs point to one thing: she's started her period.

Has it really been a month already? Shit ...

That doesn't explain the bloating, though. Or does it? He's never noticed it before, at least.

However, he shrugs it off. He's just glad he recognized the signs sooner than last time. That wasn't fun.

He glances over at the plastic bags resting in the passenger seat: her favorite food from the Jamaican restaurant they tend to order from, and a bag of groceries—full of her favorite snacks during her time of the month.

He hopes he didn't forget anything. Otherwise, that's his ass.

When he returns to the apartment, the kitchen and living room are empty.

Setting the bags down on the kitchen island, he calls out to her.

Still no answer.

So, he goes searching for her. And even though the apartment isn't small, there really aren't many places to hide. Connie knows his girlfriend well enough to know that she's in bed ... which is where he finds her.

"What you doing?"

She shrugs, sparing him no eye contact. Most of her attention is on the Tv.

"Aight, well ... I got you some food."

"I just ate."

"I know, but ... I know you still hungry."

And he's right. Her appetite on her period rivals his.

"C'mon." He's already heading back into the kitchen before she can onject, not that she would. Not when food is involved.

Sighing out, (☆) climbs out of bed to follow after him. As she saddles up to the island, Connie is pulling a foil container from one of the plastic bags on the countertop.

He pulls the plastic covering off before sliding the bowl over to her, the steam rising in her face.

Her resolve is cracking. (☆) peers up at him.

"I just ... thought you would'a ... wanted this."

She looks back down at the food, trying to keep her lower lip from trembling. She sniffs. "Thanks."

He nods, watching her open up the plastic utensils and stab a fork into the food. She takes a bite.

And another.

Then another.

Before he knows it, Connie has watched her devour half of the meal when she decides she's finished. She'll save the rest for later.

"You wanna watch something with me?"

She eyes him suspiciously. Why is he being so nice?

She had expected him to be upset with her. She knows she’s been a bit difficult. What she didn’t expect was for him to go out and by her food and still want to spend time with her when he got home.

God, she really was being unreasonable last night. She didn’t even mean to react that way. She doesn’t even like shower sex!

But … he just looked so good and she just wanted him so bad in that moment.

She has to apologize.

The couple move from the kitchen island to the living room couch. Connie sits back with his arms spread across the tops of the cushions.

Apprehensively, (☆) snuggles into his side, face pressed into his chest. His warm, musky scent only makes her relax further. He hadn’t put on any cologne today, and his natural scent is driving her crazy.

Connie takes the liberty of finding a show for them to watch: Snowfall. But, he honestly could’ve put on anything because she wasn’t paying attention at all. Only concerned with being in his arms, (☆)’s mood is better than it’s been all day.

One of his arm’s moves from the top of the couch to hang off of her shoulder. Smooth and delicately, his fingers rake up and down her upper arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

He does so a couple of times before that hand sinks to her waist and slides its way underneath the baggy shirt. It’s nothing for him to find her stomach, caressing her.

She doesn’t freeze or pull away. In fact, (☆) hugs him tighter and Connie is relieved that she’s enjoying this.

But she's enjoying it more than he intended. As he continues, (☆) only wishes for his hand to go lower. With every rub, his fingers tap at the hem of her pants.

She wants him to reach lower. Pushing her body up further against his, she hopes he gets the message.

Her mind is running, and there goes that ache in her lower stomach again. (☆) swears that the only thing that can get rid of it is him.

The thought of his dick pressing against her cervix has got her ridiculously wet. Emboldened, she throws a leg over his lap. Immediately, Connie catches it with his other hand.

He doesn't hesitate to rub her down, from her knee all the way up to her thigh and back. And every time he gets so close. What's stopping him from giving her just a small little squeeze?

Wordlessly, (☆) slips a hand beneath his shirt and heads straight for the hem of his sweats.

Connie tenses for a second, only relaxing when he realizes that she's only playing with his drawstring. His attention returns to the Tv for the next few minutes, until her fingers actually start to grip at his pants again.

This time he looks down at her. "(☆)—"

"Connie, c'mon." Sucking her teeth, (☆) sits up to really look at him. "Why don't you wanna do anything with me? You think I'm ugly or something?"

"What—(☆), no—"

"Then why not? What is it?"

Now it's his turn to sit up. "I never said I didn't want to. Shit, I did yesterday, but you got mad."

"Okay, but I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "It's cool, I'm not tripping off'a that."

"Then let's do it," she almost whines.

"I—(☆)..." He releases a sigh. "Ion know if period sex is something you really wanna do."

She blinks, completely knocked off by his words. "I'm sorry ... period sex?"

'Yeah ... ain't you on it?"

"What the fuck—no." Her face scrunches up. "Why would you think that?"

"Wha—Ion know! I just thought—"

"So, just 'cause I got mad, I'm suddenly on my period?" Her voice is steadily rising.

"No—"

"Is that why you got me food?" She looks at him through squinted eyes.

"(☆)—"

She rips away from him, standing on her feet. "Fuck you."

"Baby, wait—" He stands to block her from leaving. "It's not 'cause you was mad."

(☆) crosses her arms over her chest, careful not to press too hard on her chest. "So what was it?"

"You just—you a lil' moodier than normal—but, but, I can see you also a lil ... bloated—"

She makes an attempt to push past him, but Connie catches her before she can slip away.

"I'm not saying it's something wrong with it, I just thought something was going on 'cause your body was reacting." His voice is soft and slow as he tries his best to explain himself. "You even drank the tea! You only drink it when you're on your period."

(☆) exhales, gaze averted as she internalizes his words.

"Well ... I'm not on it."

"Okay, well ... my bad. Sorry for assuming."

She keeps quiet, her face softening.

"Forreal, (☆). I'm sorry."

"I know..."

"You'on forgive me?"

She didn't even notice when he'd gotten closer. But his hands are on her hips now. "Hm?" And his face finds its way in the crook of her neck.

"Connie—"

"You'on ... wanna ... accept my apology?" Every space in his sentence was filled with a kiss to her skin.

"Connie ... okay!" She bursts out into a laugh, feeling him nip at her skin.

He pulls away to stare down at her. "Forgive me?"

"Yes!" The big smile on her lips betrays the way she rolls her eyes.

Another bit of boisterous laughter pours our from her as he lifts her up onto his hips.

"Want me to make it up to you?"

She nods softly, leaning in to press her lips against his.

"Good."

“Oh shit … oh shi … o—shiiiiit!”

Acrylics dig into the plush comforter, strewn across the rocking bed.

The wide, tattooed hand splayed across the small of her back is warm, just like its twin that clutches her hip. Her body naturally leans into the touch, like it’s a salve to the repeated punch of dick to her cervix.

“Shit … bounce on it, baby.”

The clap of her ass against his pelvis has got her ears ringing. But it’s nothing compared to the loud sopping noise her pussy makes.

“Fu—uck Con’,” (☆) moans out, turning her head to the side against the mattress, just to watch him enjoy her pussy.

So wet, it’s too easy for him to pull out. It’s damn near no friction. Looking down at himself, surprise takes him as he sees her juices dripping from his dick—dripping like honey onto the sheets.

His dick bobs in the air and she whines, missing it already. Gripping one ass cheek to keep her spread open, Connie watches her clench around nothing.

“Shit so creamy ... you came yet?”

(☆) barely shakes her head.

Hand still on her ass, he jiggles it softly before giving the cheek a quick smack. Her whimper's got his dick jumping. He misses being inside her already.

Chuckling, he takes himself in his hand and pushes back in. As his dick bullies its way into her wetness, air expels from her tight pocket, making a wet noise of suction.

“Damn," he groans. "This pussy talking to me?" He resumes his steady strokes.

"Auugh ... aauh—yes, Daddy," she whines.

Clenching his jaw, Connie props a leg up. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulls her back on his dick as he drives his hips forward. The force punches broken moans out of her, only encouraging him to go harder.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she chants.

Dropping her head low, (☆) pushes a shaky hand down under her body, reaching between her trembling legs to weakly cup herself. It's an unintentional action to soothe the overstimulation—feeling more sensitive than normal.

"This what you needed, right?" His heavy breaths are quiet compared to the echoes of skin-to-skin, the squelching sounds of her pussy, and her moans. "Hm?"

Mouth dropping open, (☆) fights to get a word out. Her eyes almost get lost at the back of her head. "Ye ... y-yes!"

Every time she bounces back, Connie finds her cream building up at the base of his dick.

"Ooouuh, baby!"

"What?" He licks his lips, brows furrowed deeply as he continues delivering backshots. "Tell me."

"S-so deep!"

"I'm deep?"

"Yes—fuck!"

Hands move from her shoulders; One around her throat and the other gripping the fat of her hip. Connie slows, only to ground his hips into her with far-reaching slow strokes, aiming to make her feel each and every movement.

"I'm in your stomach?"

She nods wordlessly. Any arch in her back is gone. She can barely hold herself up.

The fingers around her neck squeeze, and she squeezes around him.

"Shit, baby," he whispers, pushing past any weaknesses to continue driving into her. "Pussy too good."

Through the haze of their fucking, (☆) still notices the way he pulses inside of her and the telltale twitches he makes when he's close.

A shaky moan pushes out of her as her eyes squeeze shut. "Don't pull out!"

She squeaks as Connie pulls her up, her back to his chest, and grips her throat tighter.

"Want me to cum in it?"

"Yes, baby," she pants. "Cum in me!"

The thought has her pussy fluttering around him. It almost blindsides him. His lower stomach burns as he staves off yet another release.

"Yeah?" He speaks in her ear.

"Yeah," she whines, eyes falling closed as she allows him to hold up the abundance of her weight.

He pushes (☆) back into the bed, keeping her head into the sheets and her ass in the air. His hand remains around her neck.

"All you had to do was wait," he said through gritted teeth. "Would've given you all this shit and more."

His sentences are punctuated with the perfect slams into her uterus. It gives her a pain that kills any of those pesky cramps she had early. A pain that feels so good.

This is better than any heating pad. Shit, better than taking painkillers.

Her orgasm hits her like a truck. But it doesn't stop Connie from drilling into her, fucking as he sprays around his dick. The sensation feels like he's drowning in the best way possible.

Before he knows it, Connie is coming inside of her—deep. And (☆) swears to God she can feel him in her stomach. Her body is abuzz and she feels like she's floating.

Even though she's done, her body continues milking him, pulling a deep groan out of him. He lays one more smack on her ass before pulling out.

Immediately after, their cum—mixed together—oozes out of her. The sight is almost hypnotic. Before Connie allows himself to be swept up in it, he remembers something.

"You still on birth control, right?"

"Stopped ... a couple weeks ago."

Oh, shit.

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤlike what you seeㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤflustering them by staring for too long ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanderer, heizou, xiao, ayato, childe ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( p.s. amai never proofreads)

"anonymous order; ...can i have the prompt 'screw you and your cute face' with wanderer, heizou, xiao, ayato, and childe ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi just love the idea of flustering these guys ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthank you and hope u enjoy, xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

if you think the easiest way to fluster this man is by staring at him with that lovesick look in your eyes, then you're absolutely correct.

he could be minding his business and you'd take your place beside or in front of him, and after a few minutes he can just feel the way you stare at him. your eyes burn into his skin, but not in the way he'd grow uncomfortable under your gaze, instead, in the way he could feel his face heat up.

he would huff before looking up at you, about to nag you for staring, but he always finds his words locked in his throat when he locks eyes with you. archons, the way you look at him is always so hypnotizing, it makes him feel vulnerable in a way that he'll never admit he likes.

he tsks, "can't you go, i don't know even just a minute, without staring at me ?" he snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to hum and look away from him. no, no don't stop staring. i didn't tell you to stop. his eyebrows furrow.

you chuckled, "sorry sorry," you turn back to him, chin resting on your palm, "i can't help it when you're so handsome." and you just had to back that up with a grin. archons you were doing this on purpose !

as much as scaramouche tries to fight back the warmth in his chest and the shudder your voice sent through his body, the shaky breathe he let out betrayed him as he opted to look back to the textbook he was reviewing.

he stuttered, "w - whatever ! just stop staring so much." before burying his nose back into the textbook as you laughed at him. "i can try ~"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou !ㅤ

in your relationship, it's usually heizou doing the flustering. and he does a whole lot of that staring too, especially when you're busy and he happens to be bored out of his mind, but ironically enough it's his weakness too. especially like this . .

the two of you had a free afternoon ahead of you, and what better way to spend it than to wind down in a hot spring ? you stepped into the water first, beckoning heizou to join you.

he turned his back to you, rather shy to take off his shirt, and you happened to make him even shyer by whistling once he slipped his shirt off. he turned to you over his shoulder, a smirk on his shocked red face, only for you to return a cheeky grin as you leaned against the rocks of the spring.

he shook his head, choosing to retaliate by teasing further. "so, you like what you see ?" he turned to you, hands on his hips with confidence that you'll be the one turning red, only to watch your eyes look him up and down. "yeah, yeah i do." you hummed, closing your eyes, missing the way heizou's face burned up again.

he cleared his throat, now stepping into the spring and taking a seat beside you, trying his best to brush off your gaze on him. since when did you know how to look at him like that ? he leans back, relaxing in the warmth of the spring and closing his eyes.

"if i get to see this sight everytime i take you here, i might just buy this entire place for ourselves." you spoke, piquing heizou's attention as he opened his eyes to turn to you, and not even the heat of the spring could compare to the heat he felt on his face as he met your gaze.

he chuckled, embarrassed, "well, aren't you bold today ?" he tried to tease, scratching the back of his neck. "why, don't you like it ?" you joked, cupping his chin to make him look at you, earning a shy smile from him. "i do, i do like it actually."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao !

being new to the concept of expressions and reactions to certain antics, xiao is easily flustered, though he is yet to realize it.

"is it a natural habit for you mortals to. . stare ?" he quizzed without looking at you, his eyes still closed as he savored the rich flavor of the almond tofu you had brought him. he opened one eye slowly and gazed at you you from the corner of it, perking up to the sound of you chuckling softly to yourself. "i suppose you can say that," you waved a hand in front of you.

"more like, it's natural for us to stare at something, or someone, we find interesting, puzzling, or alluring." xiao now fully turned to face you in curiosity, the bowl of half-eaten almond tofu set on the fencing of the balcony.

there was an emphasis on alluring, he mentally noted. was that intentional ?

"i see, so, which do i fall under ?" he asked, his gaze now fixated on you with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. you tilted your head at him, "what ?" "do you. . stare at me because i'm interesting, puzzling, or —" "alluring." you smiled at the way amber eyes seemed to widen for just a split second before they were replaced with the back view of messy sacramento green locks as the male turned away from you.

"i stare at you because you're alluring, xiao. very alluring, even." you hummed, leaning your elbow against the fence of the balcony and resting your chin on your palm ever so casually, watching and noting the way his shoulders tensed then relaxed.

he might consider being thankful that your view was locked on his back, hence you couldn't see the humiliating red he could feel his face burst into. he tried to clear his throat, his hand grabbing the bowl of almond tofu and spooning the rest into his mouth to distract himself.

"every part of you is alluring, even how red your ears are." and at your words, one of his hands reflexively came up to cover his ear, causing you to laugh out loud as the adeptus turned to glare at you lightly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤkamisato ayato !ㅤ

if this man thinks he's not easy to win over, he is funnily mistaken.

sure he's the smoother one with words, he knows all the right words and habits to adapt to make you swoon. but other than that, he's more vulnerable to your simple antics as he lets off.

"ayato," the way you'd say his name and drag on the last syllable, as if cooing at him, how he loves it. "ayato," the way your touch would linger on him even at the lightest taps, something so simple could tug his lips upward into a grin. "ayato !" a soft hit to the back of his head caused him to turn to you, finally.

"ah - good afternoon, darling." "i called your name three times ?" "ye. . yes, pardon me. i thought i was lost in my imagination again." he admitted as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles gently.

you hummed, "and what was so engrossing about your imaginations this time ?" you questioned, taking a seat next to him while his hand rested on your waist, now leaning his head against yours. "you, i was just thinking about you." he hums, "you smell sweet."

and a few minutes of comfortable silence followed after, enveloping the two of you in a rare calming atmosphere, ayato's head was now laid in your lap as you stroked his hair softly. ayato then started to feel your gaze on him, by how familiar it was. he smiled, looking up at you.

"staring much ?" he teased, sharing laughter with you as you playfully messed with his bangs. "i can't help it, you're very pretty like this."

"only like this ?" ... "stop staring at me, darling, answer my question." ... "please ?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤchilde !

"childe."

now, you wholeheartedly think your boyfriend's eyes are pretty, regardless of how lifeless they are whenever he's not gazing at you like this.

"tartaglia."

but, at this moment, you can't help but find them a little bit irking. just a little bit. just a tad.

"ajax."

it's the third call of his name, yet he's still sitting there, chin on his palm and everything, with that smug smile on his face ! while you're here, trying to cook a full course meal, he's sitting there staring at you like you're the food.

but in his defense, is there a law against admiring your lover ? there better not be ! he's done nothing but sit there innocently, just drinking in your pretty face, because if he can't do it no one else can !

it's when you softly pinch his side—not enough to hurt, but enough to make him snap out of his daze—that he finally raises his hands up in surrender. "what, i can't ogle at my own darling lover anymore ?" he makes a show of jutting his bottom lip out in a pout, but you just huffed at his antics. "you can, if you would actually help me cook." "help as in ?" "cut some carrots maybe." "but i can't stare at you intently if i'm cutting something." "maybe that's the point."

ah, how you wound him.. kidding, a day without your attitude is a day incomplete for him. he fakes a sigh before standing up from his chair. he grabs a chopping board, a knife, and a few carrots, then gets to work.

it's a few minutes later that he feels your eyes on him, so from over his shoulder he turns to see you, in your seat with your cheek propped up against your fist, smiling at him. he grins, "now you're staring at me." "what, i can't ogle at my own boyfriend anymore ?"

he raises an eyebrow at the way you turned his words back onto him, but he laughs nonetheless before shaking his head and going back to work, assuming you would too.

you did not go back to work. he could still feel your eyes burning into his back. and he would never, ever—he would, out of the blue just to fluster you one day—admit that it was starting to shake his focus. his cuts were starting to get uneven as a result.

"are you going to keep staring at me ?" "is there a law against me admiring my handsome boyfriend ?"

alright, you win. just this once.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[shoyudon]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 .ᐟ

them trying to make it up to you after forgetting your date.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, not everyone has a happy ending :D

tags. @dreamsarenicer @deftearzi @ninikrumbs @litlebruh

note. this is a continuation from "DOESN'T MATTER, I LEFT!" make sure to check it out to make sense of everything!

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo is far from miserable — if there was a word to describe a state worse than miserable, that is what gojo is feeling right now. he didn't know what to do besides the countless messages and calls he's sent out to you.

he's tried knocking on your apartment door for days, but to no avail, you refused to see him. telling him to go back home and to leave you alone. hell, gojo's even took a few days off from work, spending his day off trying to get you to talk to him face-to-face about everything.

"y/n," gojo knocks on your door, his head leaning onto the hard wooden surface — even without looking, you could tell how tired he is. the stress from work, from his relationship, everything; just falling apart, "i know you're in there, i can hear the tv show running."

you scoffed, leaning back onto the couch. gojo sighs out, banging his head gently onto the door, grunting out, "can we please talk about this . . ? you can't shut me out forever," he spoke.

and before he knew it, the door swung open, there you were; standing right in front of him. if looks could kill, the strongest would be six feet under, "stop coming over, you're not welcomed here, satoru. we don't need to talk about anything, i made it clear that you weren't ready for a relation—"

"you won't even listen to what i have to say about it?" gojo cuts you off, his brows furrowed; the creases between his brows deepening.

"no, i won't. i don't have to, you're not ready and you know it," you tell him, hand on the door and a hand on the doorway, looking at him calmly, "listen, go home. stop coming over, and stop trying to text me from different numbers."

"i am ready. i'm sorry for leaving you there, please let me make it up to you— i can't do this y/n. i'm really sorry, i fucked up. i just—" he looks at you desperately, his cerulean blue eyes doing all the conversation. gojo's never felt so weak before until now.

"can we please just talk about this . . ? i'll make it up to you, i promise — i just . . . right now i'm — can i just —" he rambles on in panic, his fatigue catching up to him, arms flailing around.

furrowing your brows, you eyed him, "what are you— satoru, calm down."

he inhaled sharply, "i just . . . i know i've been so caught up in work. please let me make it up to you, i took a few days off, please? can we talk about this? i don't want to break up with you, you're all i have . . ." gojo choked out, inhaling sharply at the end of his sentence.

"satoru, i don't know, okay? you're busy — yes. saving the world, saving people, saving everyone. i love you, i really do—"

"why are you breaking up with me then . . ?" gojo whispers out softly, brows furrowed, his pupils looking everywhere in panic and discomfort, "why are you breaking up with me if you love me? i'll do better, i promise."

"just — do better. 'm not going to accept you right now, show me you can do better and we'll see." well, that was better than a straight up no, gojo nodded his head vigorously.

"okay, okay. that's good, i promise. i'll be better, i'll be better," he whispers, unconsciously clutching onto your hands.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

teaching sukuna to operate a phone might be one of the most regretful thing you did. waking up to more than forty missed calls and thirty voice mails wasn't the most exciting things in the world — especially with his voicemails being cursing contents because h didn't know if his previous voice mails went through or not.

"why is it that mortals use this rectangle— did my voice go through?" was almost in everything, a few voicemails containing questions like asking to meet up face to face to communicate about everything that had been going on; much to his disdain.

one to which you finally replied to after two days. figuring it was going to be better if you made it clear to him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him.

sitting on a coffee shop, you stared at him, "i'll say this one time, stop contacting me, i have nothing else i want to do with you in the future. so refrain from sending me more voicemails or missed calls," sukuna scoffs, looking into your eyes.

"you're leaving over three hours?" he snarkily commented, more aggressive than he wanted it to come out or intended, "did i not say that i would book another place? i was caught up in another matter."

if you could just pass out out of disbelief right now, you would. it was honestly a shame that sukuna had to make matters worst with his comments, "are you — look, i've listened enough. and i want nothing else to do with you right now, nor do i want anything to do with you in the future. so please, i am ending things between us right now. i deserve better than this, and you know it."

sukuna clenched his jaw, clearly furious with how everything is turning out to be. i mean; being the king of curses, he expects everything to go his way. and currently, it wasn't.

"take that back, you are not 'breaking up' with me," he mutters out in annoyance.

"sukuna, yes, i am breaking up with you." he narrowed his eyes when you called him 'sukuna' instead of 'ryo' like you always do. sukuna never liked it when people addressed him by 'ryo', but with you — he had grown so accustomed that it felt odd hearing the word 'sukuna' escape your throat.

"don't address me as such."

"it is your name, no?" he clenched his fists in annoyance, "i've said what i need to say. stop calling me and stop sending me useless voicemails, i won't change my mind. and i won't indulge in this relationship anymore. you think three hours is a short time? i made myself a fool in front of the whole place."

"did i not tell you that i had matters to attend to? you're being a bit childish, no?"

"if breaking up with you over disrespect is childish, consider me childish then," you told him and stood up, "goodbye."

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"i know you're in there, open the door," toji banged on your door just an hour after you ended both your relationship and the call, "woman, open this door before i break it in."

he sighs out loudly, looking around — he felt like a burglar, standing on your porch menacingly. toji knocks again, "so that's it? you're just going to throw away everything? not talk to me about it? i never agreed to breakin' up with you."

he stares at the door as it swung open just before his eyes, his eyes falling on your figure, "so, you're finally ready to talk about this?" he scoffs, crossing his arms, "listen, i forgot, i fucked up and y' definitely aren't happy."

"ha ha. no shit, toji. you waste my time and my efforts, all you can say is that you fucked up and that you'll make it up to me?" you tell him calmly, leaning on your door, "you think that's enough for the constant disappointment you made me feel? you fucked up? you'll make it up to me? you didn't even say sorry."

toji furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "what do you want me to do?"

"what do i want you to do is leave me alone, and let me break up with you, because i'm so tired of you constantly telling me you fucked up instead of you're sorry. which is a big difference and i'm actually making a big deal out of it. i don't deserve this, you know?"

he shakes his head, "no, don't do that breakin' up fuckery with me. i'll do anythin' to make it up to you."

"make it up to me by letting me break up with you, that's all i want. you're not ready for a serious and committed relationship, and i'm not going to be the scapegoat for your constant mishaps. i'm tired of having to lie to myself that you're trying your best to be a good boyfriend when you make mistakes like this over and over again. it's ridiculous, toji."

toji blinked his eyes, looking at you, "no. it's a mistake, i fuckin' promise you. it just went over me — i knew i was missing something, and i thought —"

"toji. i've talked to you about this same mistake countless of times, and it went over your head again? and again? 'm tired, okay. can you just leave me alone, we had what we had, we had our time, and well, nothing lasts forever. do better next time with someone else," you tell him, getting ready to shut the door.

but of course, he wasn't really going to take this closure from you, slipping in his foot to stop the door from completely shutting, "move your foot, toji," you sigh out.

"you can't just sum it up like this, i don't wanna break up," he sighs out, "i know i fucked up, again. can't you give me another chance or somethin'? i'll make it up to you."

"i gave you more chances than i should've. bye, toji," you pushed his foot away and shut the door, ending the conversation.

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[starsinscript]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ rabbit princess ; op81

summary ; oscar gets decked out on stickers via your nieces, and you have a very 'serious' talk about kids.

"oscar stop moving!" your oldest niece squeals, the younger one intent on trying to get a sticker in exactly the middle of his forehead. they're both sat on his lap, his arms swung around them protectively as they place glitter-y stickers on his face. your younger niece nods her head, the shiny princess tiara sticker a little off center, but it must look perfect in her mind. she starts grabbing shimmery dog stickers, placing them like a wobbly halo around the tiara. the oldest is decorating his cheeks with kiss stickers and smiley faces.

"i can't believe he's letting them do this," your sister chuckles as you zoom in on oscar with your phone camera. he's got a bright smile on his face that you're thankful for, even though you already knew he liked your nieces. oscar raises his eyebrows when he spots you filming him, no doubt for blackmail against him. his cheeks get a little rosy, but then he's distracted by your younger niece almost falling off his lap. he catches her, soothing her nerves with a gentle hand running through her hair.

you end the video, stomach fluttering with something new. your sister smirks, "he's great with kids." you glare at her, "are you a little wine drunk? they can stay here if you need." your sister rolls her eyes, but the same smirk is on her face. "i bet you would love that. you can't lie that looking at oscar taking care of kids makes you think."

she notices the embarrassment that floods through you, and gently touches your shoulder. "you can talk to him, you know? i don't think he would let them sit in his lap that long if he hadn't thought about it." she reassures before sneaking off to the kitchen, where her husband is.

"y/n!" your older niece exclaims, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward your boyfriend. "we made oscar pretty!" she giggles, arms splayed out in presentation. oscar's cheeks are burning red, and he fights off a smile.

"doesn't he look so pretty?" your younger niece gushes, patting his head affectionately. oscar laughs, and you hide your smile behind your hand. "he looks very pretty guys," you compliment. "i like the tiara."

"i did that!" your younger niece gasps, her small hand patting the tiara. "because oscar's a pretty princess!" she grins, and you let out a laugh that has oscar's skin burning up.

"oh, yes. he's such a pretty princess. you did such a good job." you bring them both in for a hug, kissing their cheeks. "we gotta show papa!" the older shouts, grabbing her sister's hand and pulling her toward the kitchen.

"hi, pretty princess." you tease, sitting down next to oscar on the floor. he chuckles, "you're not gonna start calling me that now, are you?" you hum in fake thought, "i don't know... it kinda suits you, right?" oscar grins, kissing your cheek. you feel the stickers brush up against you and you giggle.

"you're great with them, you know? they love you," you add shyly, like it wasn't obvious. "i'm glad. i'd be a bit worried if they didn't," oscar laughs. you look at him oddly. "what?"

"i don't know. i was worried maybe you wouldn't like them? i mean, they're very energetic." you add, eyeing him for some sort of slip up. "they're great, no need to worry." oscar smiles, getting up from the floor as he hears them approach. you follow, and laugh at your brother in laws shock.

he laughs as the girls jump around, explaining their artistic design. they're quickly whisked home as it's getting closer to their bedtime, but they don't leave without hugging oscar. you almost melt at the way he crouches down to hug them, squeezing them tight and wishing them a goodnight.

you're cleaning up some dishes as oscar comes back from the bathroom, face freshly washed after peeling off the stickers. you look back and smile, and then he's pressing his body against yours, head tucked into your neck. he winds his arms around you, pulling you close. "you sleepy, oz?" you tease, a hand desperate to scrape through his hair. but you keep cleaning, laughing as he lets out a tired hum. "just one minute," you smile, getting to the last dish. you go quick, and as soon as it's placed in the drying rack you whisk him away to the bedroom.

he gets under the covers as you change and do your skincare, scrolling idly through his phone. as you leave the bathroom, he puts his phone on the nightstand. you lay against him, face squished in his chest. "have you ever thought about it?" he asks after a beat of silence.

"what?" you ask, the answer already floating around your mind. "kids, us having kids particularly." he commented, and you could imagine the little pout on his face as he finished. you giggle, "i'd love it, especially if they got your little rabbit teeth! they'd look so cute."

"right, my rabbit teeth. am i rabbit princess then? do i rule the carrots?"

"oscar piastri, princess of the rabbit hole. i can see it now."

notes made the convo a little unserious bc. happy father's day! i did not write this piece with that in mind haha

[bluesidez]

Dad!Miguel drabble for Father's Day!!

content warning: curvy!reader, fem!reader, fluff, a little suggestive so MINORS BEWARE

word count: 697, not proofread (I can write less than 9k...contrary to popular belief)

other dad content ➺ DadBod!Miguel | Dad!Miguel Drabble | DadGymRat!Miguel Drabble | Dad'sBestFriend!Miguel

This can be in the same universe as the Dad Bod fic because I kept the kiddos' names the same, but I didn't describe Mig's body here, so you can imagine it how you would like! :D

Only Miguel would have to come into work on Father's Day of all days.

He woke up with his face snug against your chest and a whisper of the holiday greeting on your lips. It was way too hot to be grasping at each other so early, but that didn't stop him from grinning against your mouth as he held one of your thighs over his body.

A blissful morning of kisses and sweet nothings before the kids woke up was interrupted by the shrill of his work phone that he stupidly forgot to put on silent.

So here he was running back home after fixing a multitude of electric billboards across the city that read "Happy Farter's Day" instead of "Happy Father's Day." Of all of the staff in the company, Miguel wasn't sure why he was chosen to fix it. Maybe he was a father that wanted to have a nice, unbothered farting day.

It was itching close to the afternoon which meant almost a day gone without staring in your face and laughing with his babies. Almost a day gone without hearing the people closest to his heart.

Miguel nearly flew down the highway just to get back home. He wanted to be near his family.

He's never driven into a garage so fast.

"Honey? Mija? Mijo?"

Miguel's lanyard tapped against his button-up as he called out for the three of you. The house was quiet minus the ceiling fans humming in the window-lit rooms.

Had the three of you gone out without him?

Miguel walked through the house listening and looking for any clues as to where you all might be. Right when he was about to call you in a panic, he heard a giggle come from the deck.

Sliding the curtain open, he watched as his babies were running through the backyard, Raul barely keeping up with Gabriella's speed.

"You're back!" Miguel could hear you to the left of him. His breath hitched taking in your figure.

A blue flowy dress frames your curves, thin straps hug your shoulders, and the cut of the neckline accentuates the place where he held his head this morning.

You walk up to him and reach up for a kiss that he happily reciprocates, "Welcome home, baby."

You call the kids to come up and eat. Their little feet scatter to reach Miguel.

He bends down to take them into his arms, a hearty laugh leaving him as he picks them both up in the air. He plants their faces with raspberry kisses, Gabriella squealing while Raul asks for him to do it again and again.

You smile at them, watching as Miguel spun around with the kids holding on tight. The grumpiness that filled Miguel up this morning after that dreaded call poured out of him and was replaced with warmth and happiness.

This is the moment that Miguel was yearning to experience all morning. A day for him and his family.

"C'mon. Go get changed so we can head over to Gabriel's. He said something about a grill and a splash pad?" you slid your hand over his lower back, fingers sliding through the belt loops of his pants.

As you took a tug at one loop, Miguel leaned over and gave your lips a peck, "Gabriel only knows how to work one of those things."

"I guess we have to take a gamble with today's lunch then," you chuckle, taking Raul from Miguel as he sat Gabriella down. "Dinner will be perfect for sure."

"Yeah?" Miguel raised an eyebrow you. Your eyes were full of mirth and something else Miguel couldn't quite place yet. "I can't wait, then."

When Miguel was up in the bedroom, he began to see why that playful glint painted your face.

A small gift back was placed on the bed with a new silk tie and the tag for what he could assume was a pair of panties.

"A matching set for you and I. I wonder what can be done with this tie?

When the mood is right, we'll find out tonight.

A fun way to end your lovely Father's Day."

Dinner would definitely exceed lunch.

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT! I love to see what you guys have to say! <3

a/n: I hope everyone who deserves it has a Happy Father's Day! I'm talking older siblings who raised their siblings, kids who grew up too fast, single mothers, single fathers, good fathers, and fictional men who will stop the world for their kids! You're doing great. Tomato to deadbeat fathers. You deserve nothing.

taglist: @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @slushycoookie @calig0sto @ghost-lantern

@tatatida @haveclayeveryday @corpsenightmarebride @samjinxx @earth2fae

@maiyart @Feegrh32 @darkstalight82 @ladysimp @vmpz8sauceee

@Leonsbimbogf @unwrittenletter @maxlinpetersen @madeofstar-dust @leoeloo

@just-simpins-blog @poisamm @thequeenreaders @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@tojishugetiddies @pigeonmama @av3da @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli

@koikohib @jaykookies

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[k0juki]

Good things take time

Joost Klein x fem!reader

English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also the pictures is not mine! Credit goes to owner! Not edited! Also BIG thanks to the @catherinewithu!! Couldn't do it without her.

Summary: If you promise something, you have to keep it. But even Joost makes a promise and doesn't keep it, just like you.

Warnings: alcohol, both sad y/n and Joost, mentions of sex but nothing is here!

A/n: I have mixed feelings about this xdd. Idk if it's happy ending...

Wc: 2.8k

---

Joost. Joost fucking Klein. That man was always very charming and he didn't even have to try. He was always the center of attention whereas you were just somewhere back, trying to fit in. Looking for your kind of people that lay back just like you. And if a year back someone would have said to you, that you're going to be in love with this man, you wouldn't believe them. Probably laugh in their face. You and Joost? Ha, you could never... could you?

He was the god of the party. Whenever he walked into a room, it was like the atmosphere shifted. People gravitated towards him, drawn by his effortless charm and infectious energy. He had this way of making everyone feel like they were the most important person in the world, even if just for a moment. Yeah, you know, Joost.

You and him met pretty easily, not in some grand, starstruck way, but through friends. It was at one of those low-key gatherings that start with a few people and end up with the entire social circle crammed into a living room. Joost was in his element, entertaining the crowd with stories and jokes. You watched him, intrigued by how natural it all seemed to him.

As the night went on, you and him somehow ended up in the same conversation circle. It wasn't long before you were chatting like old friends that have always known each other. He asked about your interests, your thoughts on music, movies, and life in general that night. And you found yourself opening up more than you usually did, his genuine interest made it easy.

Then, you started seeing each other more frequently. Your encounters were never planned, but always felt serendipitous. You ran into each other at the shop center, at friends' houses, and even at the grocery store. Each meeting felt natural, unforced, but then it wasn't just for talking and sharing stories. Now, you and Joost were friends, but with benefits. Of course you didn't mind at all at first. But after some time you wasn't so sure anymore. At first it was just because of some release. But after some time, you started to feel some...things.

Then came the night of this unforgettable party. You didn't want to come here at all, but your friend, f/n, she promised it's going to be just for a few hours and that Joost is going to be here as well. Maybe, that's why you actually agreed to go here. She knew about you and Joost, and how you actually felt about him. But she promise to not say anything.

Joost was, as usual, the center of attention. But this time, at this party, it felt different. Every time your eyes met across the room, there was a spark, a silent understanding that something was shifting between you and him. You watched him laugh, dance, and engage with everyone, yet somehow, it felt like he was always aware of where you were and what you were doing, of who you were speaking with and when you looked at him.

It was like sixth sense.

It started to get hot here, or maybe it was just the alcohol that flowed through your blood. Either way, you needed some fresh air, so you excused yourself from your friend that was just as tipsy as you and you made your way out by the back door that went to the garden. There wasn't anyone, but it wasn't so surprising. Whole party was thrown inside because of the cooler weather.

Enjoying the muffled sounds of a party in the house behind you, you were startled when you felt someone's hand on your hip.

"Hey, hey, easy here. It's just me."

Joost.

"You scared me for life." Turning your head to look at him, you notice how his pupils were big.

"I'm sorry princess, I will try not to scare you away from me." You laughed it off. He was definitely a teaser. It was in his nature, to make people laugh, to forget everything, to enjoy their time with him.

"What are you doing here so alone, hm?" He whispered in the cold night and ran his hand that he had on your hip up and down. To warm you a bit. "It's cold out here."

"I know, but I needed some fresh air. I couldn't breathe in there." You said and pointed back at the house. Leaning your head on his shoulder you closed your eyes, but the drinks that your friend made you drink with her were a little bit stronger for your liking, so whenever you closed your eyes you felt the whole world spin, just like right now.

"Yeah, you're right." Joost put his chin on the top of your head after he kissed it, just as you relaxed in his hold. You always enjoyed his presence, but it wasn't just because of his personality, it was because he made you feel things that you believed that were never there. He was different, he made you feel different. Like no-one else before had. He lifted his hand from your hip and placed it on your arm, "You're cold." he said and raised his head for yours.

"It's nothing." You chuckled, "I will manage." you tried to assure him, but your skin was really ice cold.

"Yeah, in bed with a fever tomorrow morning. Come on, let's get inside." He took your hand in his and together you made your way to the house. He let you go in first, holding the door open for you like a true gentleman he is with a smile on his face. "Lady's first."

You returned his smile, never letting go of his hand. It wasn't strange for you to hold his hand and kiss here and there, but you weren't together, it made some people questioned your real relationship. But what they didn't know was that you and Joost have been sleeping with each other from time to time. And you had to admit, you were totally scared of your future with him.

He doesn't feel love. He never felt that way. You knew it because before you and him started to sleep together, you and him made a promise to not catch feelings, it's just gonna be about a sex. Nothing more, nothing less. And you knew you had crossed that line, but you couldn't tell him anything. That would ruin everything, it would have ruined you. So you swallowed your feelings and told yourself to not, ever, let or somehow show your feelings for him. Even though it hurts you.

"I need to find f/n. She's somewhere here and I need to stop her from doing something stupid." You told Joost and he actually laughed at that because he knew her and what she was capable of.

"That sounds like a good idea. I will be in the living room if you want to look for me after you find her." Joost winked at you with smug on his pretty face and left you here standing with red cheeks. No matter how many times he had flirted with you, you always gave in and let his charm affect you.

---

It took you some time to find f/n, but you also have found some other friends that were looking after her as well. They were leaving and told you they are taking f/n home too.

"Noo, Y/n I don't wanna go home." f/n pouted and hugged you before others basically dragged her off of you.

"You have to. I will text you in the morning, okay?"

She protested, but eventually gave in. Leaving the party and looking forward to your text when you will be leaving.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself a drink, not so strong this time and then you started looking for another person, Joost. But he already told you where he's going to be. Making your way through bodies to the living room, you greeted some faces you recognised. Sending friendly smiles and little waves. But just as you stepped to the living room, you couldn't help the shock that went thru you.

He was sitting here with some girl. No, the girl was sitting on his lap and what was even worse, they were making out. How his left hand was running through her hair and how his other hand was on her waist, keeping her closer, just like he did before with you. All you could do was watch the scene before you.

"Y/n?" Joost's voice was barely making any sense, but he knew that was you who he was kissing right now. He was so sure of it.

"Actually I'm Mila."

"You're not Y/n? My Y/n?"

"I can be her, if that's what you want."

"You're not her?" Joost asked the girl that he assumed was you, but she pulled him back to kiss her. He wasn't complaining, but he was hoping that was you who he was kissing right now and not some random chick.

When they pulled away to breathe, Joost looked around the room and saw you standing in the back with a shocked face and how it, in a matter of seconds, turned into a pained expression. That was the real you. You weren't sitting in his lap right now.

What were you thinking?

It hurt. It all hurt so much. You really thought he felt something for you, just like you did for him. But you were wrong, so, so wrong. "Y/n?" His words were slurred. "C'mon it was just for fun, you know that right?"

Drunk words are sober thoughts.

You heard him say somewhere towards you in his now drunk state, you couldn't even properly look at him, all you could do in that moment was to turn around and leave. On your way out of the house, you passed by people that gave you this kind of sympathy look. Did they think you and him were together too? You weren't, and he made that crystal clear.

"Y/N!" He was calling for you to stop, but you didn't. "Y/n! Can you stop for a second?!"

"What!? What is it Joost!?" You turned to him, stopping in your tracks. Barely holding tears in your eyes.

"What's wrong with you?!" Joost almost shouted, but held himself back because of other people near you two.

"What is wrong with me?" You had to ask. "With me?"

"Yeah, you're acting like I fucked that girl right infront of you, and even if I did, we're not together so it doesn't matter."

"I can't believe this." You avoided eye contact with him. "I'm such an idiot." Whispering, you looked down, letting the tears freely fall.

"What? So it's mine fault?"

"No it's mine."

An awkward silence was between you two.

Joost sighed looking down and put his hands on his hips. "Look Y/n, let's just get inside, get some drinks and forget about it. It wasn't that big of a deal anyway." He insisted and took a few steps towards you, trying to reach for you, but you backed down. You turned back around and said.

"Yeah, you're right, it's not that big of a deal anyway."

With that, you made your way home.

---

That was two days ago, and from that time you felt like shit. You barely slept and eating food was bad too. F/n was worried about you, she insisted on talking to him, herself or you. But everytime she threatened, you told her to stop. That you're going to deal with it by yourself. She stopped after that.

Two fucking days.

Your phone was blowing with missed calls and hundreds of unread texts from Joost, but you didn't want to talk to him. Not right now. His words still hurt you. "It's not that big of deal anyway." Yes, you promised something to each other, but his words hunt you.

As you laid in your bed and re-thinking every detail of that night, soft knocking brought you out of your head. At first you didn't want to get up and answer, if it's important then they will try it later.

But the soft knocking was getting louder and more annoying. You slowly got up and made your way to the door. Ready to scream on anyone that was behind them.

"Y/n?"

That made you stop in your tracks. Joost? What was he doing here? You didn't want him near you at all. That's why you distanced everyone.

"Y/n, open the door."

His knocking stopped and you saw his shadow under the door and how he was stepping from one side to another.

"Open the door. Please."

Joost begged. And that's something you never heard from him before. Part of you wanted to let him in and hug him, but the other not at all.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said that night." You heard him say behind the door. Him still waiting for you to open to him.

"You didn't say anything wrong. Only truth." You muttered on the other side.

"Yeah, but..." He sighed and leaned his head on the door. Closing his eyes for a moment before speaking again. "You didn't deserve that."

That made you cry. He was right, you didn't deserve it like that.

"I hear you cry." He lifted his head from the door and tried to open them again. "Please don't cry."

"You made me look so fucking stupid." You cried more. "I thought...I thought that we-"

"I'm sorry."

You took the handle and slowly opened the door, letting that awkward silence spread all around you and him.

"What do you want from me?" You finally asked as your eyes were red and swollen from crying for the past two days. Just like his.

"I don't know." He admitted. "Probably everything..."

"That's a lot."

"I know I want you in my life." He began. "I'm scared that if I told you how I feel, you're going to leave me like everyone else."

"And why would I do that?"

He didn't say anything to that. Like you had caught him off of guard. But that didn't mean that you felt any better. You wouldn't admit it, but you didn't feel better.

"My heart always seems to be disappointed." You admitted quietly, letting it sink in. "Maybe it was made just to be shattered into thousands pieces."

"No, no, don't say that. It's not the truth, you don't believe that." His eyes were pleasing yours to say otherwise, but he didn't find what he was looking for in them. "Do you?"

"What if I believe in that?"

Now you were more scared of his silence than your damaged heart. Is this it? Is this the very end of yours and Joosts path?

"Are you going to say something?"

"I'm sorry." He stepped closer and opened the door fully. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, I don't know what I was doing...I was drunk a-and I know that it doesn't change anything, but I'm still so sorry and I need you to know it." He kneeled before you and hugged your waist. Trapping you in his hold.

"Joost." You didn't know what to say. Or what to do at that moment.

"I love you." He breathed out. "I don't want you to disappear from my world, because you are my world."

You stopped breathing for a moment. He loves you? Joost loves you? From all of the people he knows and ever met, he loves you?

"I need you to know how I feel." Joost admitted and held your legs tighter. "I should have said that sooner."

---

A/n: I could do better.

Don't copy or translate my work!

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (1/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, sexual tension, unprofessional behavior ]

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

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name. In this chapter you will see her Instagram photos without any face reveal, just treat it like some moodboard of her modern look. You can read this as a standalone story.

_____

Despite his resistance, his grandfather said this series could be his big chance. Because what's the likelihood of a big production looking for a tall actor with a scar over his left eye?

The white line running from his eyebrow to his cheek was a reminder of when his nephew smashed a bottle next to him, the shards of which shot upwards as he leaned over it. He lost the sight in that eye at the time, but got a new artificial one that looked almost identical to the real one.

"The director became interested in you when I described your appearance and character to him. It's a leading role, Aemond." His grandfather continued, clearly excited. He, however, felt only discomfort at his words.

"It's a fantasy series. Dragons, gowns and knights. Romance, on top of that, between an uncle and a niece. I don't know. It's…" He started and didn't finish, running his hand over his face.

It sounded idiotic and he felt he would have made a fool of himself in front of millions of viewers who would forever remember him in the role of the cripple prince in an incestuous relationship.

"At least read the script." His grandfather didn't give up and placed a thick volume of stapled white pages in front of him.

Resigned, he spread himself comfortably on the sofa in his flat in the evening and began to read. He pressed his lips together when he saw that it all started with a flashback – the characters of the prince and his niece were still children at the time and were to be played by younger actors.

There was no cloying or exaggerated sweetness in the story or dialogues that he had expected. What surprised him was the moment when his character lost his eye and the fact that he decided not to speak to his betrothed for eight years.

He thought it was a bit of an overreaction, but perhaps in those days men approached their honour in this way.

Then he got to the scenes where their adult characters appeared and their first scene when they see each other in the courtyard. He imagined what was happening as if he was watching a film, them, throwing glances full of pain at each other, and him, unable to bear it, attacking his opponent in rage.

To his surprise, the next scene, the scene in his chamber turned into a love scene that made him hot – and then, just when he thought the rest of the plot would be a soap opera, his character suddenly became aggressive and cold again, destroying everything they had managed to accomplish.

He thought curiously that he liked how complicated and unpredictable the Prince's character was, how hard he tried to suppress the feelings he felt for this girl, how confident he was at the same time, with so many complexes and hatreds inside him.

He was intrigued.

He decided he would go for an audition and to his surprise, the next day he received a call that the director had decided he was perfect for the part.

He got the lead role in the series.

His grandfather, as his agent, contacted the production and it turned out that they wanted to rehearse scenes between him and the actresses who would play the Princess. He was to appear in the studio in a setting specially prepared for this, which would resemble the Prince's chamber.

They were to portray the scene in which his niece comes to the Prince's chamber on the evening they see each other for the first time in eight years.

There were no wigs or costumes prepared yet, so he was given something of a substitute, a simple leather tunic and boots, and a black eye patch that had been designed specifically for his character earlier and was already finished.

The lights were turned off, leaving only the lamps for illumination and the candles and fire lit all around. He looked towards the fireplace, fiddling with the knife between his fingers, recognising that this would add an air of unease to the scene.

"Action!" The director shouted, and the door opened. He looked to the side and spotted a tall, black-haired girl. Her lips curved in pain at the sight of him, as if she was suffering greatly, but he thought in the back of his mind that her facial expression was exaggerated.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking at him with her chin raised high.

This was not how he imagined her, but he decided to focus on his role, rolling the knife between his fingers.

"Yes." He replied coldly and dispassionately.

The girl swallowed hard.

"Have you read them?"

"Cut! They see each other for the first time in eight years. They feel anger, fear, disbelief! Give me something more than theatrical indifference and tears." The director called out, making both him and the girl in front of him swallow hard, embarrassed.

"Action!"

It seemed to him that it went on forever. Girls similar to themselves went in and out, and he repeated the same line over and over again, feeling nothing.

He was in character as much as he could, taking his role very seriously, trying to identify with it, but he couldn't bring up the feelings he was supposed to have for this girl who, after all, was supposed to be the love of his life.

He sighed heavily, adjusting the eye patch over his eye when the director said that there was another rehearsal ahead of them. He nodded his head to let him know that he was ready.

"Action!"

The door opened, but the girl who stood in it looked at him for a moment with big eyes, as if she didn't recognise him. There was something endearing in that gaze. She turned behind her, as if she was afraid of being seen, and immediately closed the door, breathing loudly.

At last, real acting.

She turned towards him, as if she was afraid of him, and he pressed his lips together, involuntarily looking at her body hidden only beneath a thin nightgown, her slightly wavy, long dark hair falling freely over her shoulders.

Her face was gentle, warm, her eyes large, her lashes and eyebrows dark, accentuating her charm.

She was silent for a moment, her lips trembling, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Did you received my letters?"She muttered softly in a hopeful voice, from which he felt goosebumps pass along his back.

"Yes." He whispered, his voice soft and low.

Yes, he thought, give me something I can work with.

She swallowed loudly and clenched her hands into fists, shifting from foot to foot. She shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain as if asking how he could do this to her.

"Have you read them?" She asked, and he pressed his lips together, tilting his head back and snorted under his breath, turning the blade in his hand. She jumped up, horrified when he slammed it suddenly into the armrest lying beneath his hand.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He murmured mockingly, looking at her with slightly parted lips, lifting his chin in a gesture of superiority.

He was sure the director would interrupt, but he let them continue.

The girl lowered her gaze, her body quivering as if she was about to cry, an expression of humiliation, pain and shame on her face from which he felt heat in his heart.

Her gaze suddenly changed. She swallowed hard, as if she had also swallowed his insult, and moved ahead of him, pretending to walk towards the bookshelf.

He pressed his lips together and looked at her over his shoulder, measuring her with a furious, cold stare.

"Do you often visit men like this?"

She turned to him with a look as if she wanted to kill him, her hand dropping as if she had run out of strength after what she had heard.

"Have you no shame?" She asked coolly, the way she said it, the look in her eyes made him feel a cold sweat on his back.

"Cut! That was fantastic, thank you!" Said the director, and she blinked, the expression on her face turning from cold and disgusted to a wide smile full of joy, her gaze warm and welcoming.

"– you were amazing – I had goosebumps –" She whispered as she walked past him and giggled, waving goodbye to him, disappearing out the door a moment later.

When it turned out a few days later that she had got the role, he breathed a sigh of relief. The director had told him in a phone conversation that he could feel the kind of tension on camera that he expected from their characters and that this was it.

He was ashamed to admit it, but he agreed with him.

She was good and pulled the most subtle, intriguing expressions from her face with ease.

Although he didn't usually do this and resented his grandfather for forcing him to create an official instargam account, which was almost dead anyway, he used it to find her. At first he thought Rhaenys was her name, but then the producent told him it was her stage pseudonym.

He did not know what he thought of this, finding that it was an approach to acting that he was not fond of, but he decided not to judge her hastily, being a very private and withdrawn person himself.

Finding her turned out to be child's play, and he felt like a voyeur, scrolling through all her posts on her wall one by one, wanting to get a sense of who he would be working with, or at least that's how he tried to explain this unnatural curiosity to himself.

He snorted involuntarily in amusement upon seeing her Pikachu shirt, thinking with a kind of admiration that she had a distance to herself that he lacked.

She apparently wasn't afraid of harsh judgement from the outside world, of someone saying she was childish or immature, retaining a kind of innocence he hadn't seen in any actress in a long time.

Usually, like him, they created themselves, how they wanted to be perceived, making from their characters a style under which everything else was adjusted.

He felt a strange kind of satisfaction that he couldn't explain when he didn't see her in any of the photos with any man in an embrace or position that might indicate that she had a boyfriend.

He thought this would make it easier for him to get into character and not feel remorseful – although of course it was only his job – that he was touching someone else's girlfriend.

Although he was not convinced about this project at first, he was now beginning to feel excited at the thought that this really could open the door to his career.

All the way up to the start of shooting, he had been preparing himself to actually get into the character mentally, reading the script again and again, trying to understand Prince's character, unintentionally identifying with him more and more.

With his pain, his shame, his longing, his despair, his unfounded, cold, calculating irony and aggression.

While not everyone applauded the method acting, he felt the need to understand the character he was playing, to get inside his head, to become him in some way, to properly portray his emotions.

He and his grandfather flew to the hotel a few days before shooting to acclimatise, attend rehearsals and costume fittings. He met the actor, Aegon, who would play his brother-king, and Jace, who would play the Princess's older brother, and although he was an aloof man, he quickly found common ground with them.

Looking at the size and number of sets, the scenery created especially for one or two scenes, he felt the grand scale of the whole project and thought with excitement that he would be a fool if he refused.

When the make-up artists and stylists applied the wig on his head, his leather tunic, his breeches and his eye patch they said he was made for this role. When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he found in disbelief that he really did look like a different person and he liked what he saw.

He looked dark, menacing, malicious.

Just as he had imagined.

They met formally for the first time at, much to his liking, a session with a woman who he understood was a psychologist and was supposed to take care of them when it came to approaching intimate scenes and their comfort zone.

They shook hands with polite smiles in a way that was a tad too official, but there was something heartfelt and warm in her expression and her bright eyes that made him feel a pleasant sensation in his chest.

He tried not to grin as he saw her wearing a Pikachu t-shirt, the exact same one she wore in one of her photos on Instagram.

The woman invited them with a hand gesture to sit across from her on the couch as she sat on the other side, in an armchair.

"As I understand it, you have both read the script and your director's suggestions and know that there will be scenes involving you touching your naked bodies or exposing yourself in front of each other." She said calmly and they nodded their heads.

"Okay. I'll start by asking if you have any questions or concerns." She continued, but they were silent.

"I will be with you during every scene of this type, offering you advice and support. You have the right to say if you feel uncomfortable, if you are made to feel bad by a certain type of touch and you don't want to repeat the scene in the same way. The director wants you both to feel safe here." She added, and they nodded their heads.

"Do you have any barriers, things you're sure you don't want the other party to do? Touch in places that you find unacceptable?" She asked, and he remained silent, but looked at his partner out of the corner of his eye, curious.

He saw that she pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid to. She swallowed quietly at last, fiddling with the material of her black tracksuit shorts.

"– I – let's just say I'm not experienced in this kind of scenes – it's hard to say where my comfort limit is – what should I do if, for example, we're in the middle of filming and I feel unwell? –" She asked uncertainly, looking at her with her big, bright eyes.

The woman nodded.

"– of course, you should then stop the filming – it would be a good idea if you just agreed between you beforehand what you plan to do, where you plan to touch each other – this will help you to prepare in advance for what is going to happen, to say what causes your concerns –" She replied calmly.

The girl smiled and let out a quiet breath, as if something in her answer had reassured her.

He saw her for the second time during a party at the hotel that the series' production organized for them, so they could get to know each other better and relax before the first day of shooting.

Like him, she was dressed plain, in long mid-thigh length, fluffy sweatshirt and woollen cream, overknee socks, while he, as usual, was dressed all in black.

She approached him to greet him for a certain out of sheer courtesy, he however appreciated her professional demeanour. When she asked if she could sit with him and the people from production he involuntarily moved over on the sofa, making room next to himself, which she accepted with a smile.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye while chatting to the set crew all evening, a few drinks were enough for him to loosen his tongue a little and start talking like a normal person.

He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling the whisky already humming heavily in his head when he saw her get up from the table and go to the toilet, leaving her half-finished drink with them.

He figured he'd wait with his assessment of the situation until she returned, but to his dismay, surely enhanced by the alcohol, he acted rather dramatically, pushing the glass away from her as soon as she sat back down next to him and tried to reach for it.

"Never leave your drinks with strangers in this business. Always take them with you." He said as if he were her older brother or father.

She blinked, horrified and ashamed, clearly not even thinking that anyone among the people around her might want to hurt her, but he knew this environment better than she did.

Seeing the look on her face, he pressed his lips together.

"Believe me. I heard this kind of stories. They put pills in your drink, tell you they'll help you back to your hotel room when you start to feel worse, and the next day on set they tell you that if you say anything to anyone, you can go back where you came from."

They stared at each other for a moment in uncomfortable silence and although the people around them were laughing, she seemed to be experiencing some sort of shock.

"Do...do you know such women personally?" She mumbled, and he shook his head, playing with his glass between his fingers.

"No, thank God. But I've heard hundreds of stories like that. I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just trying to warn you. For your safety." He added, feeling for some reason like an idiot who was now lecturing and moralising her.

She nodded quickly, however, her gaze filled with a warmth and understanding that made his chest hot, though he blamed the whisky he'd drunk for his condition.

"Yes, you are right, I should be more careful. I'm glad I'll be working with someone like you." She confessed with a kind of embarrassment that surprised him, playing with the material of her woollen knee-length socks.

He looked at her, spread out comfortably on the leather sofa, realising that there was so little room at the table that their knees were pressed against each other.

When she said she would go to sleep, for some reason he offered to walk her to her room. She smiled broadly at his words and they set off together for the lift, exchanging quiet, non-committal remarks on the way.

There was something about her demeanour that made him feel at ease, her gentleness, openness and the alcohol humming in his head made him more daring when it came to spoken words.

"You made a great impression on me during the auditions." He hummed and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with joy.

"You don't even know how much these words mean to me. You were wonderful, convincing and charismatic. I hope I won't disappoint you." She said.

"Mmm." He hummed and flinched as the elevator doors slid open on the floor where their rooms were located. They walked out into the hall in silence, the warm look in her eyes that she gave him over her shoulder made him feel hot.

"– see you tomorrow –" She said and he nodded.

"– sleep well –"

The first scene they were to play, although it was only in the fifth episode, was when they returned to her chamber after speaking with her stepfather following negotiations about the succession to the throne.

Their dialogue was about what they really thought regarding what had happened in the past – this scene did not contain intimate moments and was meant to help them get into their characters well.

She walked into the room, which was also a large medieval chamber immersed completely in darkness and smiled at the sight of him. He nodded his head in greeting.

She approached him, all beaming with happiness and excitement, a nightgown on her body and a thin robe thrown over her shoulders.

"You look amazing. Wonderful characterisation." She said softly with a sincere cordiality from which he felt warmth in his heart.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, not knowing what more he could answer.

"I am the one who wants to thank you. For what you said yesterday. I guess I needed to hear this." She said, giving him a warm look full of gratitude that made him feel relieved.

"Forgive me if I was too harsh." He whispered.

"You were not." She said calmly.

He nodded and grunted, swallowing heavily, being sober having problems again with putting his thoughts into words.

They looked up at the director who ordered that they were about to go to the first shot where they were lying on the bed, so they took their places next to each other on the sheets.

He felt the stress gripping his body, the tension at the thought that there were dozens of people around them looking at them and judging him.

He had been given this role with ease and now he had to prove himself.

"Action!"

He shuddered as he felt her hand on his and looked up at her – her face was frighteningly close to his, pleasantly smooth and soft, a warmth in her gaze from which he ran out of words.

"Speak to me, uncle. Don’t lock yourself in your mind." She whispered to him, as if these words were meant only for him, as if she really cared about him, missed him, loved him.

He looked at her with his heart pounding fast, thinking with horror that he had forgotten his line.

"– I will –" She whispered.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyelids, trying to turn his fear into an expression of regret and rage on his face.

"I will never understand how could you leave me then." He hissed through clenched teeth, looking at her again, pain in her gaze, as if his words had really surprised and hurt her.

"– that was never my intention –"

"– then why? –"

"My mother then told me to let you rest and calm down. That the guards wouldn’t let me visit you anyway by order of the Queen."

He snorted, looking at her with both disbelief and frustration. He blinked, smelling her pleasant scent, and realised that, just like in the script, she must have rubbed her skin with some vanilla oil.

He looked at her lips, pink, soft and full, and for a moment he forgot again what he should say next.

What was happening to him?

"It doesn’t matter." He muttered finally. "I needed you when it happened."

He saw her furrow her brow, her lips tightened in pain.

"I needed you too." She said in a trembling voice. "When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother’s guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that’s how you felt."

He was impressed to see real emotion in her gaze – pain, grief, shame, fear. He didn't know why he lifted his hand and touched her cheek – he thought it was idiotic, but she followed it up and grasped his fingers in hers, kissing gently the inside of his palm.

He cursed in his head feeling his manhood pulsed softly in his breeches.

He put his arm around her waist and snuggled her into his chest as scripted – her hands embraced him, her face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

He seemed to feel her puffy little nipples through the fabric of his shirt before the director shouted ‘cut!’.

They pulled away from each other, looking up at him, rising on their elbows.

"– I liked it, but I would change the ending – I know it's not in the script, but the moment when he touches her cheek begs for a soft, tender, innocent kiss – can we try it that way? –" He asked, and they nodded and grunted, embarrassed.

She returned to her earlier position, trying again to bring to her face the same sadness, pain and grief he had seen seconds before.

"I needed you too." She said in pain. "When Criston Cole held my cheeks as your mother’s guards poured moon tea down my throat. I wondered at the time if that’s how you felt."

He looked at her for a moment with a gaze full of regret and touched her cheek again, running his thumb over her jaw. She kissed his hand as gently as before, cuddling her face into his rough skin, closing her eyes. She sighed quietly as he drew her closer to his face, her warm breath enveloping his skin before his fingers weaved into her hair, forcing her to lean down.

They clung to each other in a slow, shy kiss with the quiet click of their saliva, her plump, fleshy lips tasted of some sweet strawberry lipstick, deliciously soft, warm and wet, their breaths shaky and excited.

It seemed to him that time stood still; her touch was tender and full of peace but also the certainty of her affection, her soft fingers gently trailing over his jaw and cheek, caressing him as if she wanted to give him a sense of security.

Something about her closeness reassured him, and his broad hand stroked her head as if she were a small child, brushing gently her lower lip with his own, a quiet, shy sigh left her mouth.

He swallowed loudly, terrified as he felt his manhood swell and throb at the sound, at her closeness, at her taste, craving more.

They finally pulled away, her forehead pressed against his temple as his knuckles ran over her warm, soft cheek, something in her gaze he couldn't name.

"Cut! I loved this!" Their director called to them and they let out a loud sigh of relief, as if they had accomplished something very significant. His partner smiled at him.

"Everything's all right?" He asked, somehow condescending towards her, afraid she wouldn't tell him she felt uncomfortable even if she did.

She blinked, surprised by his question, and leaned over him as the crew discussed with each other whether they wanted to change anything in the shot.

"Why are you asking?" She asked lightly, curious, as if she didn't understand what he meant.

There was something intimate about how close her face was, her pleasant scent filling his lungs.

"We didn't talk about this before the scene. You know." He replied, not knowing what else to call what he was thinking about. Her eyes widened as if what he said scared her.

"– oh – no, no – I feel fine – but it's very kind of you to ask –" She whispered warmly, laying her head next to his on the pillow, pressing her forehead to his temple.

"– I feel safe with you –" She said softly into his ear, her words intended only for him.

He swallowed loudly at the thought that this could be a huge mistake on her part.