#I made her a painter for this too. because why not

[ministarfruit]

day 10: love is devotion ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[salaciousdoll]

･˳ . ⋆ 1-900-PaintJob ･˳ . ⋆

In which Toji has the hots for you while he paints your walls

· · · ♡ Featuring Painter! Toji Fushiguro x Chubby!Fem!reader with guest appearances of Gojo,Geto,Nanami,Choso,and Hiromi · · ♡

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings: Smut, pussy eating, sloppy pussy eating at that, spit, voyeurism( FaceTime call on projector), cowgirl riding, heavy and long dick Toji, admiring Toji( at you), body worship( heavy, praise kink, degradation kink, dirty talking, fingering, body painting with fingers during sex, do not try this with a stranger in real life( wrap up sweeties), fucking on first time meeting( I know, I know, but you’re neighbors), reader mind is fucked while you’re getting fucked, mention of brain d*** but not literally, dickmatized and pussy drunk, hints at chubby reader, black reader but not explicit, pet names( princess, baby doll, doll, baby, etc.), small age gap, if I miss something let me know

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word count: 4.6k

18+, Minors do not interact

Ps: I’m gonna post this one last time, hopefully it ends up in the tags without the label warning. Anyways happy birthday to me!!!

Sitting on the white window seal with a large triple case- equal lit window in front of you casting a beautiful abstract of the neighbors house and apartments in your neighborhood.

You were watching your neighbor from across the street pulling out weeds from the dirt of nature. He was eye candy for sure, that’s why you always pretended to write in your diary whenever he comes out of his house. Sometimes he would be talking with his other buff/ fit friends while pulling out weeds or planting for his girlfriend. She was a ray of sunshine but a devil in disguise or so you heard. You haven’t seen her ever since you met her for the first time when you moved in. You two didn’t plan on hanging out or getting to know one another after your encounter with one another. Too busy, on her side. Your side was because you could feel the negative energy oozing off her and made no room for her in your life. Him and his other friends/ girl-friends were a different story.

One of them was someone you had your eagle eye on from the first time you saw him. Ever since you saw his white, skin tight shirt clinging to his body with a pair of black joggers and comfortable shoes; you knew you had to get him inside of your house. Luckily weeks later, when you were watering your plants you saw him come out the house a few doors down from you to walk across the street to Satoru’s house. You wanted him to laugh in your ear the way he was laughing at Suguru and Satoru’s jokes and playful bantering whilst sharing a few beers with him.

Once you were done with watering your grass and plants you turned your water off and took your empty bucket to go back in the house when you heard your name being yelled as you walked onto your porch. You turned around to see Satoru waving at you with a big smile on his plush, pink lips, “ Hi hi, {reader}, see you’re watering your plants, gotta keep them fresh for me to steal huh? Your flowers are mighty beautiful..”

You rolled your eyes and waved at him, “ Hell no, not for you so don’t even try it, anyways hello everyone, I’m going back in the house so see you gentlemen later.” Geto smiled and waved at you while Nanami smiled a little at hearing your voice. He always looked at you whenever you came out the house, he thought he was the only one who stared at you until he saw Toji Fushiguro eyeing you nonstop, even while you watered the plants.

“ That’s { reader}, she just moved here 5 weeks ago, so be nice to her alright.”, Geto says with a tight lipped smile. Choso took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat, “ How do you know when she moved in? I must say it's very Creepy considering you don’t even live over here at all.” Geto rolled his eyes and pointed to Gojo, “ because of him, dumbass. After all, he’s her neighbor, although, I’m surprised Toji hasn’t made a move even after only staying a few door dow-” Geto eyebrows furrowed and he was gonna ask where Toji left to when he got his answer when he felt his head being turned by Gojo to your house. He opened his mouth once he noticed Toji standing at your door having a conversation with you. Closing his mouth, he chuckled prior to saying, “ Nevermind then. He beat us all, huh?”

You, on the other hand, heard your doorbell ring and told the person on the other side to hold on. Once you answered you were so surprised to see your girl crush in front of you, smirking as well, “ Hello, pretty, my name is Toji Fushiguro. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Hope we get to be well acquainted with one another.” He took your hand and kissed your knuckles making your legs almost give up on you especially with the calm but sexy look in his pretty green eyes.

You didn’t even want to take your hand away as you introduced yourself back to him, ending with “ I hope we get well acquainted as well, sir.” He tsk, shaking his head sequentially, “ No, what did I say my name was?” You raised your eyebrows at the dominance oozing from his voice but answered him anyway, “ Toji, Toji Fushiguro, why? What happened? Do you have a low memory or something?” He chuckled as he still held your hand in his, mild sweat was all you felt on your hand as you looked at him with a tilted head in wonder of what he was chuckling at. “ No, no, doll. Don’t have low memory just making sure you know it so you can learn to not call me sir, makes me feel older than I already am.”

You couldn’t help but to giggle at his words because normally you would tell a man to fuck off already, he’s an exception. For now. Instead you stared at his shirt, noticing a little yellow stain that looked like paint. Automatically getting a scandalous idea inside your pretty brain, “ Say do you paint, Mister Toji?” Completely change the direction of the conversation because you don't need to be reminded that you are attracted to the older male even if you’re in your early 20s right now. The way you tilted your head to the side after you asked the question made his dick jump because he was one step closer to having you against the wall of your house. He smiled at you, “ Yes, here and there, for the cash or what not. why do you ask, little one?”

You mentally rolled your eyes at his last two words because you were in no shape or form little but you’ll proceed, “Good. How much does it cost to paint my living room in two days? Or you don't do house calls?” His eyes widened a little prior to him answering you without thinking, “ oh yeah I take house calls for a price but for you… On the house, take this as a housewarming gift from me to you. Besides honey, I’m not working on a boss time because I make my own time, therefore you’re on. In two days, I will see you soon, my favorite doll.” You smiled as he walked backwards off the porch while hanging onto your banister to help guide him down the stairs in case he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of his doll. You.

You, however, waved at him and the others, “ Great, I’ll get the paint and other supplies, all you need to do is show up, mister Toji.” You walked back into the house with a smirk on your pretty face, you got him.

Now you were still sitting on your window seal, still looking at the now empty porch of Satoru Gojo’s house when the doorbell rang. You looked at your phone for the time and smiled— right on time. You fixed yourself up a little before answering the door with a small smile on your face, “ Welcome, Toji. Come on in.” Toji had in a tight white v neck shirt that showed some of his chest that made your mouth watery. As he walked past you he greeted you with a smirk and nod of his head. You stared at his back and ass as he walked in front of you taking in the way he wore his blue Jean painting overalls, thankfully just in his lower body, with black boots, he looked so perfect for this job and you almost believed he dressed like this on purpose.

You wore too into your head when you heard a throat being cleared startling you a little since it was silent at first, “ Don’t get too distracted, doll. I need to know how you want me to paint and where to start, don’t I?” He was teasing you and he loved the little fidgeting you were doing right now to his teasing. You gathered yourself and pointed to the side of you as you walked further into your spacious living room with only a covered couch and ladder inside of it.

He sat his extra tools down and looked at color paint you brought with his hands on his hips, the hips you so badly wanted to wrap your legs around as he dug inside of your pu-, “ Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to stop spacing out if you want time to be at least half way done, alright.” You nodded your head and put on your serious face, “ I apologize for my unprofessionalism, after all this is still business. Anyways, I really want this side to be a plain { c/y/c}, while behind the couch have the marble color thingy going on.” You pointed to the walls as you explained. When you lifted your hand, your shirt showed a little of your tummy, he so badly wanted to hold in his hands as he sucked on your pussy, and your thighs from the skort you wore gave him the adrenaline he hadn’t felt in a long time while painting for someone.

“ What ‘ marble color thingy’ you are referring to? I need a little example, doll.”, he said while crossing his arms over his chest making his muscles flex like he wanted to pop out the shirt. Is this his hoe shirt or something? You almost wanted to laugh at your mind for asking that question but thought against it because it’ll make you look crazy. You tried hard to think of an example and tapped your feet making him laugh at your frustration and stumbling over words “ um, you know, marble counters.” Or his favorite “ You know, um…” you didn’t even finish the sentence seeing as another laugh of his cut you off, “ I know what it is, princess, just messing with you.”

You rolled your eyes and began to help him by taking the top off the paint and setting your brush along with the long stick that attached to the roller brush down, “ There you go, if you need me I’ll be sitting on the window seal listening to my headphones. If you don’t mind me being in here with you of course.” He shrugged and asked you a question, “ You think you could turn on some music for me, don’t wanna listen to the sound of paint hitting the walls all day, hurt my ears, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to my ears now would ya’?” You thought about it and shook your head no before getting up to bring down your radio.

Once you finally brought down your little hello kitty radio seconds later, he smiled at the speaker prior to shaking his head and grabbing it from your hands, “ I’ll make jokes about this radio later, but right now I need you to sit your pretty ass down and enjoy yourself or you could watch me paint, doesn’t matter to me.” You almost tripped from him talking to you like that but gladly caught yourself— looking to see if he caught you and luckily he didn’t. He’s too busy pouring the paint in the paint tray.

Hours later, he seems to be getting slower and you knew he needed a break as you now witnessed him with respiration dropping down his body, shirt clinging to his skin as the product of sweating a lot. You turned on the AC and fan but he’s still sweating which means he’s working too hard. You got distracted by his back muscles moving back and forth as he painted on top of the ladder now. Your playlist was getting lost in your ear as you analyzed his build even more. He had a back tattoo from what you could see and you honestly wanted to see it. Just in luck, he turned to you catching you off guard, “ can you hear me? If so, nod your head.” You nodded your head because you could only hear him because your music was low and high.

Wiping his forehead with his arm, “ Good, do you mind if I take my shirt off, I’m still hot and can’t take it anymore.” You paused and looked at him with your lips pursed out. Your head nodded slightly disagreeing with your thoughts. You watched as he dropped the paintbrush on the tray afore taking his shirt off so slowly, basically stripping for you. You eyed his 6 or maybe 8 pack you couldn’t count because you were trailing your eyes to his man-boobs and almost clench your thighs at how big they were.

You were only snapped out of your day dream when you heard his deep groan, which only caused your eyes to widen at hearing what you heard. Maybe it was a floozy until you heard him talking, “ You keep looking at me like that there’s no telling where this paint will land when I’m fucking you against this very wall.” You turned away just to look right back at him with low eyes, “ yeah, um, I’ll go get that strawberry lemonade for you, hold on.” He chuckled because he didn’t know if it was because you thought he was thirsty or because he was thirsty for something else. Someone else really: you.

You walked to the kitchen as he climbed off the ladder. He watched you walk away and that ate at your conscious— while you were too busy thinking about how you looked from the back, he was moving the ladder to the side before laying down a big paper. He was gonna get you anyway it goes.

You grabbed the glass cups out of your white cabinet, putting ice in it followed by strawberry lemonade out of your pitcher. You grabbed lemon and cut them up just to play a slice on the side of the glasses. You weren’t even thinking straight right now because all you wanted is his dick down your throat. And you kept thinking about the ways you were gonna do it on your way back. You needed some dick right now in your life anyways, he’s the perfect man to get some from. You were gonna slut and trick him out because after this. Your new sugar daddy if you say.

You brought the cold glasses in and saw him sitting on the window seal with his legs cocked open, he looked so relaxed and you didn’t want to interrupt him but damn if you do, damn if you don’t. His shirt was still off and sweat glands were rolling down his chest and abs. His nipples were a mixture of pink and light brown and you were so in love with the way they looked that you couldn’t stop staring which made him smirk, “ Come on, pretty. You’re leaving my throat dry right now.” You snapped your eyes to his eyes and smiled a little prior to giving him his juice. When you did he smoothly pulled your wrist and made you stumble in between his legs, panicking about wasting the drinks.

You placed your lemonade down and gave him a stern look, well tried. It was just you trying to look mad and it failed because all he was thinking about was how pretty and hot you looked and that you did even through thick and thin. “ What is your problem, T?”

Toji took a big gulp of his drink afore placing it down and wrapping his arms around your hips, “ T? I like it, is that the nickname you chose to moan for me, hmm? Yeah, you make sure you moan it loud and clear, yeah?” You were so turned on right now that you made a hint that you wanted a kiss by looking at his lips, he chuckled and leaned up to kiss you on the lips. The kiss is slow and sensual. Your lips collided against each other in a heated makeout session. You didn’t even realize him reaching to dip his fingers in the paint beside him. He strategically used the fingers he’s not going to finger you with to dip inside the paint.

The paint was something that just came to mind right now, so he brought his actions to life when the paint trailed on your arm as you deepened the kiss with one arm around his shoulder. Sitting down on top of him, you felt his thick bulge right on the outline of your pussy as soon as you sat down too. Fuck he was huge and fucking thick. You couldn’t wait to fuck him and you made it known when you dipped your own fingers in paint— trailing your finger on his chest and then nipples making his body shudder from the coldness of the paint on his nipples.

You broke the heated kiss and smiled down at him with both hands on your chest. “ You’re mine after this, you know. So think real hard before you take the next step, baby doll. Wouldn’t want you to jump onto death row blindly.” You chuckled, “ I want to fuck, you’re the perfect slut of a man to fuck right now.” His eyes widened as he watched you take off your shirt revealing a pretty bra he so badly wanted to inhale. He was so obsessed with you that he’d wanna sniff any undergarment you had right now and you knew that, so you slowly teased him by taking the bra off slowly. Toji has been obsessed with you since he got the chance to see you move in, you didn’t notice him but he noticed you.

Toji’s mouth watered when your tits dropped from your bra, they were so pretty, the size of them adding on to his new fascination. Toji kissed you again, he kissed all the way down to your chest, “ These are fucking beautiful, want them wrapped around my cock but I’ll save that for later.” You whimpered at his dirty words as his hand without the paint tapped your thighs telling you to take off your pj bottoms and you did just that when you got off him.

Toji reached his hands to the hand of your panties— slipping his, free of paint, fingers inside of your panties rubbing your pussy as you hovered over him. It was a little difficult for him so he ripped your panties with his other hand leaving you completely bare for him. He finally got full access to your beautiful pussy and he almost gulped up spit just to spit it back on your pussy, claiming it for the men that’s watching on the other side of the FaceTime call he sat up while you were in the kitchen. He hid his phone well but what he didn’t know is that you knew you were being recorded and didn’t care at the moment especially when he’s literally eye level with your pussy.

He rubbed getting little whimpers from you as you gripped his shoulder in want and need, “ Please… T, I can’t anymore, fuck me, finger me, idc, I just need something inside of me.” Your voice was so pretty moaning out for him like this. You were already driving him mad and he loved it. You were wiggling around until he held onto your love handles/hips. He spit on your pussy with a loud sound of the spitting before licking all over your pussy with his spit. You gripped his hair with one hand whilst his tongue was flicking in circles around your puffy clit. You granted him access with one hand opening your pussy to his liking so he could see and lick everything.

He looked up at you with hazy, green eyes— still licking your pussy while you placed one leg beside him on the window seal, “ your fucking pussy, fuck~” he couldn’t even get his words out because he was too busy trying to devour your entire pussy in his mouth, which was literally impossible for anyone. You tasted so so delicious to him and he wasn’t about to let any of them on the phone fuck you. You were a moaning mess when you were close to your edge and you could tell he was enjoying himself because of the spit coasting your inner thighs, labia, and clit.

His spit was dripping and his face was dripping with your juices combined with his spit, “ Shit~ to-ji, I’m cumin, I can’t hold on.” And you couldn’t physically and figuratively because your legs were starting to shake. Toji didn’t care though because he was too busy shaking his head back and forth creating more motion in your clitoris, “ Aaah fuck, m’cummin, pl-please I’m cummin.” You gripped his shoulders so hard that you could practically crush them and yet he still wouldn’t care. He was gonna wear you out today before going back to painting.

You threw your head back when his groans and moans hit your pussy creating vibrations, “ Cum fwrh mew” you couldn’t exactly make out his words because his tongue was move in a wiggle motion on the inside of your pussy, so his words were impediment to understand but once he felt you clench onto his tongue— letting go onto his face. Your body shook as you came and he wasted no time catching every last drop of cum.

He sucked on your clit one last time making you stumble onto his lap, hovering a little whilst your legs were shaking like a leaf on a windy day. He looked at you licking his lips all the while taking off his shoes and overalls along with his undergarment— leaving him in black socks only, “ Sit on it.” Your eyes widened when he suddenly pulled you down not caring how much of your weight you got on him, he could handle it. Meanwhile, none of them can do it like he can. He always chased after girls your size, why? He just likes women like you. You could say he was a chubby chaser but his dick doesn’t discriminate against any bodies, petite, skinny, thick, no ass, ass, no titties, titties, he doesn’t care. He just has a record with women like you.

You took his hard dick into your hand, stroking him up and down, “ How badly do you want this Toji?” He looked at you with a smile on his face illuminating his beautiful features, “ I could show you and say it, I wanted this ever since I saw you hop out that little uhaul truck and I was sitting on my porch playing with my kids.” Your eyes widened and you smiled, “ How is little Megumi and tsukii doing?”

He chuckled before whispering a faint fuck because you were still stroking him, meanwhile you were unaware of what you were doing because of the conversation, “ kinda hard to talk about them when you stroking my dick like that?” You nervously laughed, “ oh right, I apologize that actually is wrong, I just wanna know how badly you wanted me and we got off track, now that I know, let me show you how bad I want you.” He was surprised at your words but more surprised at the feeling of his tip being swallowed by your wet pussy, “ Fu-uh-ck!!, you haven’t even taken me full, yet you have me groaning like a bitch.” You let out a faint giggle which turned into a moan as you slowly and carefully took him inside of you. As you slid down his cock, he stretched you out causing you to tightly squeeze your eyes from the pain. Your pussy was clenching him like she never wanted to let him go and that cussed him to hiss, “ Loosen up f’me, princess.”

You took a deep breath prior to slamming down on his dick when you got half of him inside. Both of you moaned very loudly as Gojo, Choso, Geto, Nanami, and now Hiromi's eyes widened when they viewed the projector his phone was connected to, luckily Gojo was a smart and strategic pervert. “ she did it, she actually took all of him inside of her.”

Meanwhile, Toji gripped your ass and curled up into you as you bounced up and down on his cock creating vibrations and movement with your body and his balls in one. “ Shit! T, please continue to fuck me like this, mmph.” He reached one hand to dip his fingers in the paint, just to put it over your chest, tummy, and getting more to trace your rolls. “ You’re so- so fucking, ahh… pretty taking my dick inside of you right now. You’re my little, Nghh~. You have me fumbling my words, sweetheart.” He gropped your tits with paint on his fingers and your ass with his other set of fingers— still fucking into you like a maniac. For an older guy, he’s got a lot of strength and stamina.

“ You’re my little masterpiece of art, fuck~ you keep clenching me I’m gonna.”, He moaned as he was now leaning back against the blinds on your window, denting them a bit, but you didn’t care. You were too brain dead out of words to even say anything. Your brain was nothing but fuzzy bubbles floating around, “ T’? It’s… it’s too much. Nnhh.” He noticed your spaced out look as you peered down at him and rubbed your clit with his thumb to get you back to him, “ Hold on a little bit longer baby, don’t space out on me yet, we’re gonna cum together.”

You nodded your head with a vicious lip bite as you moved your hips back and forth tired from bouncing up and down on his dick. Your juices were all over his cock, even dripping down his balls and inner thighs. That’s how much you enjoyed his dick inside of you. You never felt like this. You lost focus on the world and it’s just him now and you beat believe his ass feels the same because he forgot about them watching because all he was thinking about was you.

Your body started to shake as he began rolling his hips, “ Toji! I feel it, m’gonna squirt. Uhhh!” You squirted all over yourself and his pelvis. He stopped a bit to let you squirt before getting the idea to move inside of you again causing you to squirt more on his pelvis and lower stomach. You weren’t doing anything but shouting out little pleas and repeating over and over again how you have to cum.

Toji lifted you up with your legs on his arms, fucking into you like a pirate who haven’t had pussy or found any gold yet, “ Fuck, fuck, that’s it baby. Cum for me, cum all over your dick baby.” His words and the snapping of his dick moving in and out of you had you cummin’ in no time. You were about to scream loud but he placed a kiss in your lips silencing yours and his scream with a muffle to replace it. Your bodies was shaking against each other as sweat engulfed both of your bodies like you two were in a steam room.

This was the sex you missed and needed, but nobody did it like him. Toji was still rolling his hips while slowly walking back to the window seal that was a bench if you ask yourself. His butt hit the cold surface causing him to hiss especially when your pussy walls were shaping around his dick, “ Your pussy is shaping and getting used to my cock now, doll. Hope you’re ready because we’re taking this upstairs, they’ll have to hear from a distance.” He huffed and smirked down at you, kissing your forehead, chubby cheeks, and lips fore’ taking you upstairs bridle style, still having some strength in him even after cumming inside of your sweet pussy. You were gonna have to take the pill later, he wouldn’t mind giving you a baby because it was already set that he’s gonna make you his and his woman only.

From that point on, you got fucked any and everywhere in your bedroom. Your holes were being filled to the brim by him and you loved every second of it.

Tagging: @shunsuist @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @thehanging-gardens @bontens-angel and anymore who wants to be tagged

[edenesth]

The Royal Librarian

Pairing: tutor!Yeosang x librarian!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Yeosang, if you don't confess your feelings to the librarian soon, I swear I'll do it for you."

The royal tutor's eyes widened at the princess' words. Resisting the urge to slap a hand over her mouth, he hissed, "Your highness! You will do no such thing, that's highly inappropriate." Despite his disapproval, she merely smirked, enjoying the panic in his eyes as you walked past the two in the palace library, checking the newly arrived books.

Arms folded, she locked eyes with the tutor mischievously, retorting, "You can't tell me what to do; I'm the princess." Yeosang sighed deeply, questioning why he was stuck tutoring this unruly student instead of her disciplined elder brother.

"Why won't you just leave me be? I promised I'd talk to her soon," He pleaded. She scoffed, "You've said that before, and I don't see any progress. This is your last chance, or I'll take matters into my own hands."

With a defeated sigh, he smacked his palm against his forehead, muttering a curse. The princess grinned, satisfied, and resumed her studies with a quill in hand, "I'm only doing this for you because you're my favourite teacher."

Yeosang gave her an unamused stare, "You do realise I'm your only teacher."

She smiled sarcastically, "Exactly, so you have no choice but to do as I say."

As their lesson concluded for the day, the princess shot a threatening squint at her tutor, her fingers subtly gesturing, 'I'm watching you,' before she gracefully exited the library.

Defeated, Yeosang nodded and bowed lightly as he watched her leave, a sense of resignation settling over him. If he wished for a peaceful existence, compliance seemed to be his only option. His heart raced as he turned his attention to you, who were diligently ticking away on your checklist, ensuring the library remained well-organised, as you always do.

He found himself captivated by the sight of you working from a distance; in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. From the very first encounter, he sensed it was love at first sight. As he got to know you better, he discovered that your allure extended beyond physical beauty.

Your kindness, knowledge, and passion for your work set you apart. It might sound cliché, but to him, you were incomparable to anyone else. While the princess' lessons could be torturous at times, your presence never failed to brighten his day.

He took a deep breath and dared himself to approach you. Nervously, his hands instinctively moved to straighten his hair and adjust his clothes. Despite having spoken to you before, you always made him stumble over his words like a bumbling fool.

Upon noticing the handsome tutor's presence, you greeted him with a warm smile, setting down your work documents, "Hey Yeosang, how was the lesson today? I hope her highness wasn't too difficult; she's been in a good mood lately. Do you think it has anything to do with the painter she's been seeing in town?"

He chuckled shyly, "It was alright, thanks for asking. I've heard about her new friend; she won't shut up about him. Unfortunately, that doesn't change the way she torments me."

Laughing, you shook your head, "You poor thing. What will it take for her to let you live, hm?"

Yeosang hesitated, unsure whether to be honest. He did know what it would take for her to go easy on him. This could be the perfect time to broach the topic, but he searched his brain for a way to smoothly transition the conversation.

Scratching his head sheepishly, he said, "Yeah, trust me, I always ask myself why I'm stuck with her. It would've been great if only I got the crown prince."

You nodded with a knowing smile, "I know what you mean; the prince is certainly very mature compared to his sister. It's reassuring to know the future of our kingdom is in good hands."

Drawing closer, he leaned against your work desk, attempting to appear cool, unaware of how awkward he looked. You giggled into your fist, finding him adorable. His shyness had always endeared him to you; the tutor was unlike any other guy you'd ever met.

If only he knew how special he was... to you.

"Speaking of which, the sudden news of the prince's engagement was quite a surprise, wasn't it?" He tried to steady his heart as he began his mission.

You brightened immediately, "Oh, it sure was! What a joyous occasion it is. We could use more positive news like this around Wonderland, especially with the ongoing tensions with Utopia."

Enthusiastically agreeing, he said, "We sure do! Have you also heard about the duke and the mapmaker's recent engagements?"

You nodded excitedly, sighing wistfully, "I have. It must be the season of love. Makes me wonder if my turn will ever come."

Here's my chance!

Biting his lip, he prepared for the pivotal moment, "Well, perhaps it will come sooner than expected," Your breath hitched at the direction he was taking, "Perhaps Wonderland could use another engagement soon..."

Your heart pounded as he circled around your desk to approach you, "Yeosang... what are you—" He cleared his throat and whispered your name, "I've been in love with you from the moment we first met. Will you allow me to court you?"

While you were convinced you must have been dreaming, he persistently proved you wrong by dedicating all his efforts to courting you over the next few months. The two of you became the centre of attention among the palace staff. Although he had initially hoped the princess would let him breathe, she had shifted her attention to urging him to propose.

Once he was certain that your feelings matched his own, he needed no further pushing from his student. True to his word, he kept his promise, and before you could fully grasp it, you found yourself strolling around the library with a beautiful ring adorning your finger.

"Wow, what a gorgeous ring you're wearing," Your head snapped up to find none other than your fiancé teasing you, "I know, I'm getting married soon." You responded smugly. His confident grin left you amused, marvelling at the transformation from the timid royal tutor you first met.

Gone was the once shy Kang Yeosang.

You gasped when he gently pushed you against a bookshelf, his hand shielding the back of your head as he leaned in, "Care to share who the lucky guy is?"

Slapping a hand on his chest, you attempted to push him away, "Not here, Yeo—"

But he cut you off, "Tell me."

You relented with a sigh, "It's you."

His smile widened, "That's right, my love." Any resistance melted away the moment he pressed his lips firmly against yours.

Just as he had predicted, Wonderland witnessed another engagement, and this time, it was yours. It was an unforgettable union, etched into the minds of all, thanks in no small part to the princess who claimed all credit. She proudly reminded everyone that her tutor was, at last, marrying his dream girl—the royal librarian.

In case you haven't already noticed, all the parts of this series are sorta interconnected since it's in the same universe. This one also teases the next member's part. Have fun guessing who it is, teehee.

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[merakiui]

Hello! Could I request flower bouquet from the miscellaneous menu.. And as for the dynamic, I'm quite indecisive on that regard, but I recall you saying it's fine to let you chose? Forgive me if I'm wrong. I'd like to order that with red velvet cupcakes & banana pudding from the midnight menu for Jade Leech, with an AFAB reader. If you are unable to do this, it is completely understandable. I hope your day/night goes well, and may you take care.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping, slight angst, royalty au (princess!reader x butler!jade) note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

It’s well past midnight when Jade finds you in the garden. He spots you milling about aimlessly beneath a stone archway. Greenery twists up the rough surface; vines spotted with tiny flowers drape like fruit from a bough. Moonlight paints you in strokes of silvery magnificence, a breathtaking sight even the most skillful painter could never hope to replicate on a canvas. Even though it’s the middle of summer, there’s a fierce bite to tonight’s temperature. It’s in his nature to protect, a bodyguard and a butler in one, which is precisely why he frets when he notices you’re dressed in a thin nightgown and a silk robe.

You’re stunning regardless of your attire. He’s always thought so. A hopeless observation, for you have never belonged to him and thus those words will remain a scandal under lock and key.

“My lady?” He approaches with even steps, his voice a gentle whisper. Despite his best efforts, you still flinch at his sudden arrival. He bows respectfully, a hand held over his heart. “Forgive me for startling you. I noticed you weren’t in bed when I came to check on you, and so I thought I might find you here.”

“Am I really so predictable?”

“Quite.” He chuckles at the pout that twists on your lips. “Admittedly, my advantage is rather unfair. I’ve known you long enough to commit all of your habits and haunts to memory.”

“You’re too good. It’s not fair…”

“Is everything all right?” Jade moves to shrug his tailcoat off, aiming to drape it across your shoulders for extra layering, but you stop him. “My lady?”

“I’m not cold. Thank you, though.”

Jade nods slowly and slides his arms back into the sleeves. “May I ask what’s keeping you up? It’s unlike you to visit the garden so late.”

“It’s nothing major. Just thinking too much about too many things. If that makes any sense…”

He hums in acknowledgement. You fidget on your bare feet. Some days Jade thinks you’d wander to your death if it weren’t for him. Having suspected this, he made sure to bring your shoes. Guiding you to the marble bench at the end of the pathway, where the space opens into a clearing enclosed with shaped shrubbery, Jade lowers to his knees.

“A princess shouldn’t dirty her feet so carelessly,” he reminds you, taking hold of your foot and gingerly sliding your shoe on.

You frown at him. “Does it matter?”

“In polite society, yes, very much so.”

“Polite society is the worst. How am I meant to frolic in the flowers as the fairy tales intended if I can’t even take my shoes off for such a thing?”

“You may do so in your dreams.”

“It’s not the same.”

Jade gazes at your legs from where he kneels. Should his gaze climb any higher… He snuffs that thought before it can take root. “Perhaps not, but the world within a dream is lenient and lawless. You’re free to break every rule you desire.”

He offers you his arm and you take it. Lifting you from the bench, he walks with you and admires lush blossoms alongside you. Sweet is the night breeze, bringing recollections of a childhood that has long since fled. Watching you, future heir to the throne, from afar, an unimportant butler-in-training… You’ve always been his world—the center of his vision. The single flower in a garden infested with weeds.

What he’d do to pick you and put you in a pot of his own making. To keep you solely because it is the whim of a selfish heart caught up in foolish, one-sided limerence.

“What would you do? In your dreams, I mean. If you could experience any dream, what would it be?”

Jade peers at you, taken aback. “You’re asking me?”

“No, I’m asking the flowers.” Playfully, you reach up to pat his head. He leans down to meet your hand halfway, a smile gracing his features. How fervently he wishes you would touch him with more purpose. If only your individual stations were not so far apart. If only he could become your equal just for tonight and know rapture under your fingertips. “Yes, Jade, I’m asking you.”

It’s not a calculated risk, for he knows the outcome will never be in his favor, but he acts on impulse anyway. He seizes your hand. You flinch away, surprised by this forthright display, but he holds firm. He’s determined to see this through to the end, even if it lands him a heart more shattered than when he began.

“I would become a prince and marry you.”

Much to his chagrin, you laugh. “That’s quite the lofty dream. A funny one, too.”

He squeezes your hand, insistent. “That is the truth.”

“It’s not.” You meet his mismatched stare. “It… It’s not, right? Surely you jest.”

“I have always admired you, my lady.” Testing his limits, he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Though you may be forever out of my reach and I may be but a mere servant, that does not stop me from loving you any less.”

Your face falls. There is no reciprocation to be found in your gaze. He suspected this from the beginning, but it does nothing to soothe the sting.

He grasps your other hand, hoping to bestow a kiss to it as well, but you jerk away so quickly that you trip over your feet and land in a heap on the grass. He doesn’t make any move to help you up. Not yet, at least. Lying sprawled on your back, you watch him with uncertain eyes.

“How long?”

“The day your father rescued me and brought me in—you offered your hand to me, and you told me I would never know the dangers of the sea again.” Jade stands over you, observing the many emotions flickering on your face, before lowering to your height. He straddles you with ease. “I had never known such kindness until then.”

“Ah, right… I remember that day. You were injured so severely they put you on bedrest. You had to learn how to walk all over again.”

“In spite of everything they told you about me, you visited me regardless. Every day, at every hour, to bring snacks and toys. To cheer me up. To wish for my swift recovery. To act as my crutch. For that, I am forever grateful.” His hands slide your nightgown up, and he feasts on the sight of your panties—on the way you draw your thighs together to hide from him. “I have always stood dutifully by your side, hoping to repay you for all that you’ve done for me.”

You look delicate in the grass, your robe slipping from your shoulders. Like a pinned butterfly or an angel having just fallen from the sky, you’re a sugared fantasy brought to life.

“Jade.” You grab at his shoulders and push back weakly; he doesn’t budge. “We… We shouldn’t. I can’t. If someone were to see—”

“They won’t.”

“Yes, but I—” you turn away from him, worrying your lip between your teeth— “I can’t, Jade… I’m betrothed. F-Furthermore, it’s not safe without…protection. You can’t.”

He smiles fondly, so sickly, stupidly enchanted. With the moon just behind his head, framing it like a hazy halo, you might mistake him for an angel. His actions suggest he’s anything but.

Lifting his index finger to his lips, he shushes you. “In that case, let’s play pretend for tonight—just as we used to—and trap ourselves in a dream.”

Your refusal falls on deaf ears.

Hands crawl along the expanse of your body, feeling everything within reach. He’s overjoyed to behold you, to press down on the space between your legs and savor your staggered breaths. You plead with him all throughout it, begging him to cease now and he’ll be spared. But Jade can’t. If it kills him, he wants to have died knowing he was on cloud nine.

This has always been his dream.

For tonight, he is neither prince nor butler. For tonight, he is simply a monster—the same monster your maids warned you against when you were little: “That cursed child is no good. He will bring ruin to your father—to you, Your Highness. You must keep away, for a child of the sea is a child of destruction and agony.”

The same monster who looked on with a single golden eye, lying in wait like the perfect predator and wearing the skin of a human to hide his true identity. The same monster who took to training as if it were second nature, honing his skills as a butler and a bodyguard. Hardening a heart that has never had the capacity to care for anything other than himself and the ones who have since departed.

The same monster who loves the human he ought to hate, for it is your kind who hunt the waters he was conceived in. Who spear merfolk with harpoons and feast on their flesh and eggs like it’s a sacred delicacy. Who arrange their skeletons in aureate frames. Who mount their taxidermied tails to the wall.

The same monster who, in some distant fairy tale, could have been a king if not for the devastation of his family tree.

Dewy grass sticks to your skin. The scent of moist earth envelops you in its verdant embrace. Jade sinks in slowly, holding you down by your hips. You squirm and cry, but he persists. He could be cruel and callous, rut into you like an animal instead of a lover, but he refrains. He loves you too much, and that hurts more than any pain he could inflict on you.

You dig your nails into his shoulders. If they were sharper, you might have been able to tear through his uniform. Sweet, soft moans spill from pretty, plush lips. He kisses you, adoring the hold your walls have on him when he rolls his hips to fill you deeper.

“Jade… Jade, please,” you ramble, breathing hot and heavy in his ears. It’s musical, the way you sing for him through your tears. “Oh, please pull out. I—aah—can’t… We can’t. Please, Jade.”

Perhaps it would have been easier to hate you and your father—detest the kingdom who has rendered his home an aquatic graveyard. Surrounded in a garden of exotic blooms, Jade thinks that’s impossible. Love born from hate is thorny, impossible to quell once it’s come to fruition. It’s dug its roots into his heart and given way to the most fearsome flower.

He should have killed you. He should have held that pillow over your face all those years ago when he snuck into your bedroom, silent as a shadow. He should have, but he didn’t—couldn’t. And now he’s here, towering over you without the pillow. His hands stray towards your throat, but instead of an execution he drags you against his chest. He can’t.

Years later and he still can’t fulfill his one and only childhood dream.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes glittering. “How I wish you were as ugly as your heart…”

Raindrops spatter your face, a quiet downpour spilling from heterochromatic hues.

You fall apart beneath him, ruined in ways polite society would deem grossly impure.

Now we’re the same, Jade thinks, bowing his head when he reaches his peak. He groans lowly, his eyes squeezed shut. Monsters without homes.

Come morning, the palace is in a panic. The princess has vanished, seemingly whisked away into the night, and the only one who may have any information on her whereabouts has gone with her. Jade doesn’t worry.

No one will find you at the bottom of the sea, unrecognizable as a mermaid in an abandoned coral kingdom.

On his empty throne, he knows of no better place.

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

[nearest-dearest]

The String (Wally x reader)

After reading a story to Julie, the rainbow monster is dead set on finding her soulmate and you tagged along without much of a choice in that matter.

🍎🎀🍎🎀🍎🎀🍎🎀

“Awe! How romantic!” Julie swoons after you just finished reading to her. More specifically the part about how the two main characters found each other through the red string of fate. Where soulmates are connected by a red string tied to their finger. The red string is strong too, it may twist, tangle but it will never break. And all this info came from the new romance book you ordered last week and wanted to share it with Julie.

Julie suddenly gasps “Do you think I could find my soulmate through the red string?”

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh “I’m sure you can Julie, but only if you can see the red string though.”

“Fear not dear neighbor! For I have a plan!”

And that’s how you ended up outside Julie’s house. A red string tied to your own finger while Julie does the same to herself.

“Julie, I’m not sure this will help us find our soulmates.” You voiced your concerns before she can enact her plan of throwing her red ball of yarn to any “lucky” passerby that could catch it.

“This is just a theory! Don’t worry (Y/n) dear. Who knows, maybe your string could land on Wally!”

The last sentence had you sputtering your words. “What?! Why would you say that? You’re making it sound like I like him! I mean, I like everyone in the neighborhood, including Wally. But it’s not like I like, like him!” You said all of that so fast that you ended up taking a deep breath after you’re done.

Meanwhile, that knowing smirk on Julie’s face never left, but okay, she’ll play your game “Sure (Y/n), I’ll drop it, but it could happen.

Should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy for her to fully drop it. Now you’re wondering what could’ve happened if you hadn’t blushed or stared during Wally’s little singing two weeks ago. Ever since Julie found out, she hasn’t stopped alluding to it when the two of you are alone. And when the others are there, she carries on as if she knew nothing. At least she’s great at keeping a secret. But you couldn’t really find a fault within you to like Wally. The painter is already attractive, he’s also talented and charming and you always find an aura of calm and serenity whenever you’re with him.

And as your silly little crush grew, so did how Wally make you feel. One moment you feel serenity and the next feeling is confusion. You don’t know if this is love or just infatuation. Is it because he’s so. . .

Mysterious?

You know Wally like any other friend you had, but there’s something about Wally that makes you want to know more. But will he ever allow it? Does he even like you the way you like him?

“Awe, (Y/n) Vandermeer. Of course, Wally likes you!” Julie suddenly says.

You paused. . .

“Wait! Was I saying all of that out loud?!”

“Unfortunately, yes. So, you do like Wally!”

“I—” You sigh out your defeat. There’s no denying it anymore.

“Nothing to be ashamed of neighbor! After this experiment, you’re sure to know whether Wally likes you or not!”

“Again, Julie, I don’t think this is how it works.”

“You never know until you try! Now let’s look for our soulmates!” Julie is the first to throw her yarn, and it landed on. . .

A rock!

Julie skipped her way to the rock until she was close enough to pick it up. Lovingly staring at the rock like it’s made of gold “Who knew you were so close the entire time!”

You shook your head at the display, but the smile on your face suggests a playful expression and tone.

“Now it’s your turn (Y/n)! Go find your soulmate!” Julies calls back to you.

You stared at the ball of yarn in your hand. The hesitancy kept you from throwing it. Although, it may land on a rock as well, and you and Julie can have a laugh about it. Everyone in the neighborhood is inside their houses or backyard. It seems like a safe and shame free action. With a deep breath, you got ready to throw it as far as you can. In the count of 3. . . 2. . . 1. Off goes the yarn in the air. Landing on. . . It landed on nothing, it just kept going and rolling away.

“Uh, I’ll be back Julie!” And with that, you began chasing the ball as it unravels. This is one good bunch of yarn; it’d be a waste to just leave it all behind. Let alone just leave it littered— Okay! How long is this yarn?! It goes on forever! You better catch up soon, the ball is getting smaller too.

Then the yarn stops.

Finally.

And it stopped by. . .

Wally’s feet.

Oh no

You suddenly felt your legs freeze to a halt on the spot. As for Wally, he picked up the ball of yarn to examine it. Then he looked up and met your gaze. Wally smiles.

“Ah! Hello neighbor, is this yours?” Wally offered the ball of yarn.

“Hi Wally! Yes, it is, thanks.” You say in a fast speed, hoping he doesn’t ask about what you were doing.

“No problem! If I may ask, what were you doing?”

Plan failed.

“Uh, nothing much! Just helping Julie with a knitting project, that’s all!” Great plan, just lie like second nature why don’t you?

Wally gave a little laugh “No need to lie (Y/n), you can tell me! I won’t judge.”

Darn, he’s so perceptive it’s endearing!

“Okay then.” You caved in, it’s been a long day and you don’t feel like dodging anymore. “Julie thought she could find her soulmate using the red string of fate, and thought it was also a good idea to help me find my soulmate too.”

“Soulmate?” Wally wonders.

“Yeah, now if you’ll excuse me I gotta go now.” You started taking your leave, at least you tried to. Because the sudden feeling of Wally’s hand holding yours had freezing like ice.

“Wait! Can I just do something first?” Wally asks.

“Uh sure?” Still feeling a little flustered that Wally held your hand, you ended up mindlessly agreeing to his request. You couldn’t even see what he was doing because you were too busy looking down to cool down the heat on your cheeks.

“Done!” Wally announced.

“Wait, really? That was. . . Fast.”

If you weren’t red already, then you sure look like one big giant apple. Wally had tied the other end of the yarn. On his pinky finger.

“And to make it easier for us.” Wally then snapped the extra thread with the blade he uses to sharpen his pencil.

“Don’t take the string off your finger. Okay Neighbor?”

Were Wally’s last words before walking away to Home.

Leaving you flustered and quiet from where you stand.

And giving a Julie in hiding pride over the outcome “All according to plan.”

All according to plan indeed Julie.

All According to plan.

[hangmanbrainrot]

more than this

a/n: HI. Me again! After talking with @rosiahills22, I simply HAD to give this idea a whirl. I hope y’all enjoy! Reader’s callsign is Van Gogh (to be explained) and I don’t use Y/N. :) special thanks to @bradshawsbitch​ for the encouragement. :’)

warnings: so much mutual pining, dash of angst toward the end. Generally, all my posts are 18+ because I don’t want minors interacting with my page! Probably naval inaccuracies.

word count: 3975

summary: You and Jake have been best friends for years now… Why mess with a good thing?

pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader, Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader — callsign: Van Gogh

“Vee, you aren’t seriously wearing that to Family Day.”

You glanced down at your striped sleep pants and faded Navy t-shirt, then whirled around to look up at the oh so familiar source of the question. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, in the flesh. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt, jeans, and black leather-banded watch on his wrist. His signature toothpick was missing from its usual post between his lips. 

“You clean up nice,” you retorted, ignoring his initial remark. “And I thought we agreed, no call signs today.”

You ‘tsk’ed at him and turned back toward your laundry basket, then bending to pick it up and hold it at your hip. 

“You have one of the coolest callsigns, besides mine, of course. What’s wrong with Van Gogh?”

“I got it because I dropped my books and everyone saw all the doodles in the margins of my notes. And it doesn’t even make sense, because Van Gogh was a painter. At least yours has a cool story, I mean—”

He said your name, low and sweet, to cut you off. The two of you weren’t about to rehash that story again. 

“Better.” This earned you a smile. “I told you, I’m not going this year. I’m just gonna hang out here, take advantage of the empty lounge, and chill.” 

“And I told you, my mother demanded to see you. In fact, I’d dare say she’s more excited to see you than she is to see me.”

“Can you blame Mrs. Seresin for having taste?” you replied easily, the teasing lilt to your voice unmistakable as you flashed Jake a megawatt smile. 

“I’m absolutely telling on you, when I see her. ‘Mrs. Seresin’ instead of Sandy, as requested.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you shot back, mock horror covering your features.

“Can, could, and would. Get dressed, Vee. Families will be here before you know it!”

The way that Jake departed after speaking let you know it wasn’t up for debate.

———————————————————————————————————

You heard Jamie and Courtney before you saw them, their familiar, slightly shrill voices carrying over the crowd of people all waiting for their own aviator to make an appearance. Jake’s older and younger sisters had always treated you like the additional sibling they’d never had, but on a day like today, it made your heart ache. You knew, of course, not everyone was lucky enough to find a kind family to adopt them the way the Seresins had adopted you. Even Robert Seresin himself — gruff as he was, he had a you-sized soft spot, much like his son. Though good luck getting either of the Seresin men to admit it. 

You smiled as you spun on your heel, ready to retreat. Content to revel in the knowledge that you were loved, but too heavy-hearted to witness it today. You’d beat Jake here, somehow, so maybe you could slip out without his notice, either. Come up with some feeble story about suddenly coming down with a migraine, and nurse your ache alone, with your mounds of freshly laundered clothing, once you were sure he and his family had departed for the day.

But instead of proceeding forward, you collided with navy cotton and ginger and leather and… Jake. Had he always smelled this good?

“Hi, I was just,” you pushed out, before being interrupted. Why were you so nervous, all of a sudden? It was just Jake. 

“Trying to ditch me. Darlin’, my feelings are hurt.” The tips of your ears burned red with embarrassment, even as your stomach did backflips over the way his accent thickened on the word ‘darlin’.’ 

“Sorry, Jake.” You didn’t even have the wherewithal to hide the giggle leaking into your words. But you were smart enough to play it off. “I was just going to get a jacket.”

“Vee, it’s July.”

“Yes, I do have a calendar and I can read!” Your eye roll was practically involuntary. “I just get cold sometimes in the AC.”

A lopsided grin slid onto his features while he aimed a pointer finger at himself. “Human furnace. Let’s go!”

Before you could protest, he was slinging an arm around your shoulders and all but crushing you into his side. “I think this outfit is much more appropriate for a trip off base.” It sounded like he was testing the compliment. And, truthfully, you liked this particular combination of white cap-sleeve blouse and jeans quite a bit yourself, too. But it was nice of him to notice. Then again, you couldn’t recall a time when Jake hadn’t noticed you, not since the beginning of your friendship. He was just always so checked in with you. Always so present. If you squinted, you could call it attentiveness. 

“Jacob Michael Seresin, it is rude to keep your mother waiting! And where is — there she is, there’s my girl.” 

Before either of you could inhale, a head of blond hair identical to Jake’s came bounding toward you, Sandra Seresin bundling you up in her arms like she hadn’t seen you in years, rather than the months it had been since the last time she had seen you via FaceTime.

You hugged Sandy a little tighter, as if you were afraid you would disappear if you let go. If it weren't for this woman and her family, holding onto you — in more ways than one — you often feared no one would remember you at all. No one to be on the receiving end of a phone call or a folded flag, if you didn't make it home one day. You would just… cease to exist. Quietly. Perhaps that was fitting, considering that was exactly how you lived your life.

You were your parents' only child, and they were gone. Well, your father was, anyway. Your mother never recovered after his sudden death, and had taken to self-medicating to ease the pain of his loss. Which, sure, you got, once you were old enough, but you were still small and new to the world, when the light that was your father went out. No one is ready to lose a parent they're close to, but certainly not when they're five. And it felt like you'd lost her, too, by the time you were 10. Moved out by the time you were 16. So, she wasn't gone, but there was no relationship to be had. You knew, of course, that if something did happen to you, they'd find her. But who would she be mourning? You had lived a whole life she knew nothing about; you had become an entirely new person. Someone she knew nothing about, but that the Seresins knew like the backs of their hands. Courtney was filling your hands with your favorite candy on the walk to the parking lot, and Jamie's kids were telling you about how they were doing in school. 

Maybe someone, maybe a few someones would remember you. And fondly, you hoped.

At the height of the day, the sun was relentless, but as you walked beside Jake in the parking lot, you couldn't help noticing it made his hair the perfect shade of blond, and rendered his eyes the color of sea-glass.

"You know they just missed you," he chirped, misreading your expression and mistaking your melancholy for annoyance.

"No, no," you said softly. "It's nice to be missed. I just.."

"Today is hard," he finished your sentence matter-of-factly, and without any sort of air of pity. You heard, in its place, respect. He had no idea how you felt, but he'd always left space in your friendship for you to feel it. And, in true Jake fashion, he'd tried to fix it, by introducing you to his family, all those years ago, now. You'd only known each other a few months, then. But he didn't want you to be alone. And, the truth was, you hadn't been. Not since the moment you met him. All you ever felt when you were with Jake was ease. Comfort. 

Your hand found Jake’s without thinking, eyes burning with unshed tears. “You’re my best friend, Jake. And I will not hesitate to kick your ass if you tell anyone how soft I got.”

You glanced over at Jake just in time to watch an unreadable emotion cloud his expression. Before you had time to think it over, he was squeezing your hand. “I’ll always keep all your secrets, Vee. Including that you prefer green Jolly Ranchers, even though blue are clearly superior.” 

—————

The Seresins took you and Jake to a small diner off base, and it was today that you learned it was Jake’s favorite. You all sat in a booth toward the back, bunched up together in the cushioned semi-circle bench. Jake’s warm thigh brushed against yours, and you’d be lying if you didn’t notice the jolt that went through you, every time those thick cords of muscle pressed against you when he laughed, or when he reached forward to grasp one of the menus wedged between the matching salt and pepper shakers on the table. 

With an arm lazily draped on the booth behind you, fingers loosely grazing your shoulder every so soften, Jake opened a menu for you to share. 

“Well, what do you think, darlin’?”

“How did I not know this was your favorite place?” You asked, ignoring the question he was obviously asking you.

But he indulged you. “This was the first year I actually convinced you to come with us.”

“Convinced? I felt slightly bullied, Seresin.” You grinned, in spite of yourself. 

“Forgive me for wanting to spend a little time with you, darlin’.” He sounded almost coy. You glanced up at him, at the same time he looked over at you, and found that ‘butterflies’ were an understatement for what that look was currently doing to your insides. It felt like a cross between adoration and desire, but what was even wilder was that Jake’s expression seemed to mirror your own — which was absurd because it was Jake. Jake, who always made sure you never got left behind; Jake, who sometimes pulled his punches with you when he was ragging on you over the comms. Yeah, that Jake, your Jake was looking at you like… that?

But then you heard Jake’s dad clear his throat from across the table and you and Jake glanced up like you’d been caught doing something far less innocuous. Your mind worked overtime trying to decipher what just happened here but the moment flickered and burnt out before you, and the conversation moved on like a film unpaused.

Despite the fact that his entire family was here, it felt like Jake couldn’t bear to take his eyes off you for a moment, not that you were complaining. And it was something his mother noticed, too.

“So, between the two of you, who do you think is the better pilot?” Courtney teased, a mischievous glint visible in the hazel of her irises. 

But then Jake said your name at the same time you said his, causing you both to turn to each other in surprise, mouths agape. 

“Stop being modest,” he accused, almost immediately. Part of you wanted to make special note of this moment, record it somehow. So that the next time Jake decided to have a pissing contest with some other pilot, you could chime in and remind him it didn’t matter, since he thought you were the best anyway. You went to shove at his chest, but your hand — and your heart — stuttered with you made contact. He was so solid. Just firm muscle and warm skin. When your gaze dared drift upward, he was blushing. Your comment, voicing the observation, would die on your lips, as your server returned to the table with a tray full of milkshakes. Leave it to Jamie to secure dessert when you weren’t looking.

—————

When the meal had run its course and everyone was preparing for the trip back to base, you couldn’t help but hang back a little bit, just to take it all in. Jake was indulging Courtney in one of those rare, long bear hugs, while Jamie and his mother ran off to the bathroom, and his dad made small talk with another patron seated at the diner’s counter. In spite of your resistance, this family had yanked you, kicking and screaming, into their lives. Whether you’d found them or they’d found you didn’t matter, what mattered was the moment unfolding before you. You wished you could wrap it around you and let it warm you from the inside out. 

You weren’t sure when Jake had released Courtney to return to your side, or when the rest of his family had filtered out the diner’s front doors, so you jumped when you heard his voice from beside you. 

“You okay, sugar?” He was close enough that you could smell the tang of his cologne — softer than before, but still present — and feel the body heat rolling off of him in waves. You practically ached with the desire to move, to be touching him in some way, and the ferocious way this feeling roared to life within you startled you. Instead of giving in to that yearning to touch, you spun around and put some distance between you, eyes trained on him. You were desperate to find out what had changed, but when you gazed into Jake’s eyes. You just saw him, you just felt him. Nothing else had changed. But maybe nothing had needed to. High stakes situations meant you were constantly filtering out your emotions: keep, alter, discard; keep, alter, discard. You rifled through feelings often before you took a breath. It felt silly to question whether or not you’d simply overlooked or ignored your feelings for your best friend all along, but what else could be true? It wasn’t the way you felt about him that was new; no, it was the sudden impulse to do something about it that felt like an unscratchable itch.

You took a nearly imperceptible step closer, and Jake mirrored your actions. He said your name softly, cautiously. 

But then, from behind: “Hey, is everybody else outside?” 

Jamie’s voice was like cold water to the face. Still, you nodded, regaining the distance between yourself and Jake. You blinked a few times, as if you were hitting some sort of invisible reset button in your mind.

Keep, alter, discard.

You were silent, the entire ride back to base. You went through the motions of ‘see-you-next-time’’s and ‘take-care’’s, and stood in the parking lot until Robert’s truck was completely out of view.

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled, without looking up at Jake, then spinning on your heels to head back inside.  There was still enough of the day that you could get your laundry done if you headed straight in and got to work, you just had to —

Jake’s hand on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. Your skin was tingling where his fingers were wrapped around you. Jaw set, you clenched, mouth forming a straight line. You were back on base now; you were back to being naval aviators. There wasn’t any room for these silly little schoolgirl feelings Jake inspired in you. You didn’t get to twirl your hair and bat your eyelashes and fall head over heels for your best friend. Instead, you got to linger somewhere painfully between ‘duty bound’ and ‘already in over your head.’

“What is it, Jake?” You hadn’t yet turned to face him, and that was an offense he didn’t take lightly to; though instead of waiting for you to rectify the situation, he does so himself. It was so very like him. 

“Look at me, please.” The raw edge to his voice startled you into compliance. 

You turned and regretted it immediately.

“What did I do?” His eyes were so soft, so entirely unguarded. A fear you didn’t recognize was plain on his face. “How can I fix it?”

“It’s nothing, Jake.”

But he was not convinced by your sighed syllables. “That’s bullshit.” Even the way he spoke was gentle, like he was afraid you’d evaporate from the sheer force of his words if he spoke too loudly.

“Something changed, after lunch, something… Something happened,” he continued. “Did Jamie say something to you? Court?” 

A short burst of laughter punched out of you, but it sounded colder than you imagined, and Jake stepped back like you’d slapped him. Fear was replaced by irritation. You recognized that particular crease in his brow, but you resolved that this was good. Maybe he needed to hate you a little, so you could get over whatever was most definitely not happening here.

“What?” You laughed again, though this time it sounded more forced than before. “Did you expect me to go all weak-kneed because you saved me, Jake? Showed me what a real family was like? Would you like me to grovel with gratitude now, or can I save that for later?”

And you regretted the words the moment you said them, instantly spiraling. It was vicious and careless, but a low enough blow that it would end things — it would fix things, once and for all. But then that feeling from earlier returned, that burning at the back of your throat and the sting in your eyes. You understood now that what you were feeling was loss; you were preparing for the loss of your best friend. Prematurely, perhaps, but if you knew Jake at all, you knew it wasn’t that premature. He let the others think he was a jerk and a blowhard but, to you, he admitted to the real softness of his heart. The purity of it. It was you he sat beside, shaking with worry after Phoenix and Bob went down after a bird strike. You, he called when his niece got a case of the flu so bad she was hospitalized and he couldn’t see her. You, he pleaded with for help when he’d mouthed off too much in class and was pretty sure everyone hated him now. You knew everything he did was so startlingly fucking earnest. To question how genuine he was, to question his integrity, was the kind of wound that could only be delivered intimately. And you had done it so very well. A real stab and twist.

You mumbled an apology, just desperate to escape Jake and that angry, but somehow still pleading look in his eyes. It was when your back was turned that Jake finally spoke.

“God, I have to be so fucking stupid.” 

“Jake, don’t,” you said, stilled but not turning back around. Your pride wouldn’t let him see you cry.

“No, I must be. I must be a complete fucking idiot to have misread all the signs that you… That we want the same thing.”

You didn’t dare speak at first; you couldn’t. And then, when you did, the ragged nature of your breathing startled even you. “And what is it that you think we both want?”

“More than this, Vee!” He sounded exasperated, and you didn’t need to face him to know that Jake had run a frustrated hand through his hair. “More than tiptoeing around each other and how we feel about each other, and trying to pretend like, like…” 

“Trying to pretend like what?” The words ripped out of you like a sob and you couldn’t will yourself to be still anymore. Your body angled toward his like you were fucking magnetized. 

“Trying to pretend like I am not in love with you.” 

The words landed like lead around you, and you had to bite back a sob. When that wasn’t enough to muffle the sound, you slapped a palm to your mouth. 

He had done it. He had taken that big thing, wrestled it into submission, and then laid it bare in front of you. But, more than that, he’d laid himself bare in front of you. He was more naked now than he’d ever been in any locker room. This was Jake at his most honest.

And you could feel yourself teetering so dangerously on the edge of giving in. Your breaths heaved in and out of you with great effort. 

What if you ruined this? What if he left you? What if, what if, what if…

God, but what if you didn’t? What if, for once, something just fucking worked out, and someone just stayed? If there was anyone in your life who was capable of staying, wouldn’t it be Jake? Who else could it be? 

Your resolve was so thin, so fragile; when you finally spoke, it was: “Jake, I’m scared.” 

He took a step toward you. He could’ve closed the gap between your bodies in a singular stride, but he was giving you an out. One last chance to walk away. You remained anchored to your spot on the pavement. When he took the final step toward you, he had a palm raised to frame your face — he was shaking, but he rested his forehead against yours, too. And that was Jake, in a nutshell. Scared, but pushing forward. It was one of the things you admired, one of the things you loved most about him. 

“Don’t be scared, Vee.” The plea was soft, softer than a prayer. “Don’t be scared. Whatever there is to figure out, we’ll figure it out together. We can make this work.”

“And if we can’t?”

“We’ll figure that out together, too.” 

Even as your every survival instinct was telling you not to, even as all you wanted to do was run, you leaned in. The kiss was a little clumsy — he hadn’t been ready, you were too nervous. But then your hand found purchase against his chest, and one of his at your hip. And then you were practically tugging each other closer; your lips fitting together more seamlessly. How had you held out this long? How had you deprived yourself of this? 

Jake retracted, eyes wild and bright when he looked at you. As his lips sloped into a grin, you knew something was coming. 

“Ma’am, I’m not sure if you heard me, but…”

“Oh, you mean your little love confession?” you reveled in the flush that crept up his neck and the laugh that fled your now kiss-swollen lips as a result.

Though realization seemed to darken his expression, and his eyes left yours. The loss was one you felt immediately. 

“What?”

Jake must have felt the tension begin to seep into your body, because his thumb began to press slow, soothing circles against your hip. 

“Vee, I know you don’t need me to save you. You have never needed to be saved by anyone.” His brow furrowed a moment, and the hand still cradling your face dropped to meet the other at your hips. “But if you want to be… If you want someone else to help you carry all that weight on your shoulders. Well, that would be okay, too, alright?”

You weren’t certain, but when Jake met your gaze once again, you were almost positive there were tears welling in his eyes. The sight of his vulnerability rendered you speechless, so you nodded mutely, then managed a small ‘okay.’ It was instinctive for you to rest your forehead against Jake’s chest and allow his arms to envelope you in his embrace. More so than ever before.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been standing there when you finally spoke up again. “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I love you.”

He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. Instead, he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and tightened his arms around you. And maybe, just maybe, you thought… this wouldn’t be so bad. Whether it was 20 minutes or 20 years, you wanted as much of Jake as he was willing and able to give. 

Keep, alter, discard? You were definitely keeping this feeling.

[catapparently]

Kaz Brekker Headcanons

Cat entering her hc era thanks to my maid of honor @x-liv25 . Please go read her TIG headcanons!

MASTERLIST

Kaz once said "you shouldn't make friends with crows," "why not?" "they don't have any manners." I headcanon that he tried to feed a crow and actually be nice to it but it bit him so now he forever holds the grudge

He has a stack of makeup in his desk drawer in case he needs to change his face up a bit for a job and he's excellent at it

At some point, when he was still struggling with finding a job after Jordie's death, he stole someone's purse and found bronzer/contour that he used to draw himself abs to look strong and "hirable".

He doesn't mind touching animals without his gloves

He realized that when he tried to save an abandoned kitten in the rain when he was younger

He felt bad for it because it reminded him of him and Jordie

He saw it as a debt-ish to Jordie to save the kitten

It once brought Kaz a mouse as a gift and Kaz genuinely appreciated the gesture

Kaz POV: "What a distinguished gentleman who knows I'm worthy of great gifts and appreciation"

Kaz knew he couldn't really keep a cat in his line of work, it'd be a weakness, so when it was old enough, he snuck it into Pekka's office and watched the vicious little feline tear Pekka's stuff to shreds

"A cat after my own heart"

When Kaz got the Dregs tattoo, he didn't want the artist to touch him, so he tattooed the logo himself. It was a bit shaky but then he hired a Tailor to fix the edges without touching him

Alternative solution to the bad edges: He fixes them up with stolen foundation whenever he isn't wearing long sleeves or something that would cover it up.

They day he first saw Inej and she snuck up on him, he had a panic attack but hid it well

At this point in his life, he was used to being in control, to knowing everything. Having Inej sneak up on him (and knowing that she could have potentially killed him without him having time to retaliate had she been trained) freaked him out. He felt weak, Kaz Rietveld again.

Kaz spends half an hour every other day locked in his office without his gloves, lathering his hands in hand cream.

Whenever he'd grab someone by the collar or any form of violence with contact, the last thing the victim could think about is why his hands smell nice. Nobody ever lived to tell the tale.

He's a sucker for a good chocolate cake.

He absolutely HATES ice cream. It makes too much of a sticky gooey mess for him.

He also probably has a sensitive throat so he doesn't really eat cold/frozen stuff or drinks

Once he made a deal with Nina which resulted in him going to a café to buy her a pumpkin spice latte. Once he sniffed Nina's, he quickly bought another one for himself and chugged it before he could get back. Obviously he did that in a dark alleyway so that nobody could see him and use it as blackmail.

Once he used (obviously stolen) paint to decorate his very own set of cards.

He then made another elaborate plan of his and managed to auction them off for a grotesque amount of kruge.

Probably forged DeKappel's signature on the back of each with perfect precision

For those that forgot, DeKappel is some famous painter in the series. Kaz stole a DeKappel oil painting from Van Eck.

Help I didn't realize how fun HCs were, I could make a thousand of these

[pitruli]

One Piece - Warrior Cats AU, but it's a post-apo world with cats playing pirates to replace humans; here's the strawhats first!

Finally made small clean designs of the ideas i had for months haha- Not sure who i'll make next but there's so many characters i want to draw as cats hehe (i can take suggestions)

got some notes under cut

Monkeydawn: can't remember why i made him a colour point- Warrior cat names are a pirate thing, and Dawn is exclusive to the Ds. The ribbon is basically the strawhat here, given by Redscar (i didn't like the look of hats on cats-). Leader of Strawclan but he's bad at names so everyone named themselves

Mossthorn: gray oriental cat. Formerly named Thorn the Fox, Moss is a joke from Snail but also his favorite colour so- He's Clan deputy and a knife wielder, the harness is to keep them on his back.

Waveberry: long hair calico cat. Formerly named Wave, and was Wavestorm in the fishcats' clan. Berries are still a currency here but it sounded better than trying to fit Tangerine in her name. First warrior of the clan and terrain painter. Oh and there's Cloudstar too (names in -star are deities names)

Pebbleflight: black tabby cat. Formerly Pebble and had too many ideas for his pirate name. He grows poisonous plants for projectiles. Wanted as Flyingspark and then Pebblestar (he also has a star on his forehead like WC leaders have in fanarts!)

Snailswirl: Turkish van. Snail is a name he was given by Redleg (such a joke for a french cook but i love it), and Swirl is a joke from Moss. He's both a warrior and a med cat, his cooking experiments helping with faster recoveries.

Antlerfall: Neko no mi, model: lynx. Was named like a pirate by med cat Cherrytree, as his antlers disappear in his full lynx form. He's actually taller than most of the crew in all his forms. The one and only med reindeer !

Ravenbloom: russian blue. Went by the name Newmoon in Baroque Works, and is wanted as "Devilkit". She took back her childhood name Raven when joining the clan. Six legged most of the time because come on it's useful. Studies the extinction of humans (the existence of humans is still to be proven)

Blueflame: blue Mainecoon. Formerly named Littleflame, and renamed Blue by Iceberg, mixed both names when joining the crew. Lost his tail and badly injured his paws in the train accident, so the cyborg part is more like an exoskeleton. And hey, being six legged is fun. Assigned builder of the crew.

Whalesong: Siberian cat. Had his name from the black and white pattern of his fur making him look like an orca, and it fits with Laboon! So yes he is wearing his own fur because of course. His soul form also look like a typical starclan spirit fanarts, and starclan is an old pirate legend here.

Sharkstrike: fishcat! I'm so close to make a whole speculative evolution project about fishcats, but basically, they are cats if they had taken the same evolutionary path as whales. He's not a shark, he's still "just" a cat, but most fishcats are named after sea creatures.

[riboism]

seni oilai

♔ pairing: servent! j.wy x queen! reader

♔ genre: smut, angst

♔ wc: 2.5k

♔ content: royalty au, sexual servitude, fingering, nipple play, penetration, lots of teasing, unsaid feelings, secret established relationship

♔ a/n: no read more tab because tumblr hates me :/

The bathroom ceiling was decorated with beautiful and intricate designs, all handpainted by the Royal family’s personal painter. You’ve been told that the painter had spent days lying on his back to make the scenery that currently overlooked your bathtub. The inspiration came from the first spring after the long, brutal, and deadly winter your Kingdom endured many years ago. Your eyes followed the swells of white clouds that stretched over the light blue paint and the flocks of birds that stretched their wings and embraced the rebirth of warmth and beauty. Of course, that was just what the painter pictured it to be. But to you, the painting was nothing but a cruel reminder of what you could never have. You stared up at this grand ceiling from your bathtub every night, growing sick from the constant reminder that you were stuck. You felt like a bird being held prisoner in its cage, forced to look at everyone else flap their wings and fly away from this godforsaken place. 

After the untimely death of your parents, and there being no male heirs to the throne, the Court decided with great hesitation to pass the crown down to you. No one wanted a girl Queen. Just the thought of you as a ruler gave the Kingdom great anxiety. A girl Queen meant a vulnerable Kingdom, and no one was equipped to handle an invasion. Understanding this sentiment at such a young age, you made it your duty to prove everyone wrong. You wanted to show them that you were capable, if not more capable than your father, of being a leader. Even with your accomplishments at peace and prosperity during your years of reign, that sentiment remained unchanged. You learned that no matter what you did, no one would take you seriously as Queen. And with that, your efforts faltered and you went on autopilot.

There were whispers in the court about an unnamed Prince who was interested in her Royal Highness. The lone Prince was said to have been planning to propose to you and merge both Kingdoms under one rule. The Court took a likeness to the idea. You were bombarded by them, along with the Chief Minister to at least consider marrying him. There were too many reasons not to say no: More land, financial security, and of course, more respect and stability with a man by your side. It amazed you just how much they trusted and respected someone they barely knew all because he had a dick.

You sunk yourself lower into the bath, resting your achy neck on the edge of the tub. You were under a lot of stress tonight after the Chief Minister announced to you that he invited this bachelor for you to meet tomorrow. You were angry, of course, but you were used to him doing things behind your back like this. He was a good friend to your father and looked to advise you as best as he could. But sometimes, he made you feel like you had no say in anything you did. You were just the face of the Kingdom, a puppet for him to puppeteer. As much as you wanted to fight it, you knew that at the end of the day, he would get his way and you will have to walk down that aisle sooner or later.

Honestly, there was no reason to be bothered by this in the first place. Being Queen was a difficult task. To have someone else take the wheel would be a godsend, and could finally take some stress off your shoulders. So why were you so upset?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard the bathroom doors open and shut from behind you, followed by a hesitant few steps forward. You knew exactly who it was from his timid footsteps.

“You’re late.” You sighed in exasperation. Shutting your eyes, you sunk yourself even deeper into the water, sending some bubbles to splash out from the tub.

“I know. I apologize, Your Majesty.” After a beat of silence, Wooyoung walked over to the bathtub. Your eyes were still shut but you knew he was hovering over you now, most likely with a playful grin, with his hands tucked neatly behind his back as he obediently awaited his next order. However, when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with the sight of your humble servant gazing down at you with a look of concern. It always amazed you just how beautiful he looked wearing any emotion- anger, sadness, contentment- it was worth more to look at than the eyesore that took over your bathroom ceiling. But of course, your favorite look on him was the look of lust. His half-lidded eyes, rosy cheeks, and parted lips while you sank down his length- that was a sight worth looking at.

“I won’t be needing you tonight. I’ll be retiring to my chambers soon. You should do the same.” You closed your eyes again and waited to hear his footsteps trail away. But he didn’t move.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

You wished he’d just obey and leave you alone. When you two first started, it was supposed to be just a physical relationship. But now it was intimate in a way that you never intended. And you worried if maybe he was too emotionally attached to you. Or maybe it was you that was attached to him.

“Everything’s fine.” You prayed that was sufficient, but to your dismay, Wooyoung wasn’t satisfied and he took it upon himself to sit on the edge of the tub and quietly wait for you to tell him what was really wrong.

“Wooyoung,” you whined, “I’m just tired. That’s all.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Are you calling your Queen a liar? I’m pretty sure that’s treason.”

Your quick-witted reply earned you a chuckle and you were relieved to see him soften his expression for once that night. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” Wooyoung dipped his hand into the warm bath water and traced his fingertips up your thigh. You bit back a moan as his hand inched closer to your bare heat. “But at least let me help you relieve some stress.”

Wooyoung rubbed your inner thigh and waited for you to part your legs. Hesitating at first, you eventually obliged and spread yourself open for him. He made an experimental swipe over your slit which already had you rolling your eyes back. He spread your lips apart, pouting when he saw your aching clit.

“You spend all day taking care of this Kingdom, but who takes care of you?” He poked. It drove you mad when he spoke to you like this, a soft and barely audible whisper like he didn’t want to talk over your moans. After massaging over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and pushed two fingers inside of you, smiling to himself as he watched you struggle to hold in your gasps.

“Wooyoung!” You gripped his forearm tightly as he pumped his digits in and out of you. His pace was unforgiving and you tried desperately to hold on and control his movements. But Wooyoung was pissed and there was no way to tame him when he was like this. He didn’t like when you kept things from him. He knew you were hiding something and he doesn’t particularly like being out of the loop.

“Shh..” he cooed, “just relax and let me take care of you.”

He began curling his fingers inside of you, and this time you weren’t able to hold in your moans. You were usually good at keeping quiet, afraid of nosy servants hearing what you were up to and spreading rumors that you took a lowborn as a lover. But Wooyoung thought if he couldn’t get you to talk about what’s bothering you, then he deserved to hear your loud and delicious moans as a replacement.

“Too fast…gonna cum” you squealed, sending more water out from the bathtub as you jolted your hips up and down.

“Already?” He grinned. “I barely even started.”

You opened your mouth to tell him to stop teasing, but the feeling of his thumb pressing over your needy clit took the words right out of your mouth. One hand gripped the bathtub, while the other was still holding onto his chiseled arm. Heat pooled in your lower stomach and Wooyoung could tell that it would only take another couple of pumps before you came undone for him. As much as you loved his skilled fingers swirling over your clit, you didn’t want to finish so quickly and go back to another night of sleepless worry. You grabbed onto his hand to stop him from going any further.

“Not like this” you breathed. Wooyoung smirked, his fingers still deep inside of you.

“No? Then how would you like me, My Queen?”

“You know your place.” You pulled your legs up to your chest, hinting at him to get in with you. Nothing else was said as he quickly unclothed himself before slipping into the bath. Before you could climb over him, you took some time to admire how heavenly he looked right now: Wet hair slicked back with a few strands kissing at his forehead, and the way his collarbones glistened from being in the bubbly water. Wooyoung was second to none, incomparable to even the richest of Kings. You never admitted it to him, but sometimes you imagined him in a crown sitting beside you on the throne. Anyone who saw him wouldn’t second guess that he belonged up there with you.

You straddled over him now, taking him into your hands to help him get ready for you. He kissed down your neck before making home on your breast, rubbing his lips gently over your nipples. They were more sensitive and raised now from being in the water for so long, and Wooyoung took advantage of that. He took your bud into his mouth as you stroked his stiff cock, the vibrations from his moans sending goosebumps all over your skin.

Wooyoung took his cock from you and lined himself up with your core. You let out a string of low and shaky moans, waiting for the moment that he’d finally enter and fuck all the useless thoughts out of your head. But Wooyoung had no intention of giving you what you wanted. Instead, he rubbed his tip along your slit in an agonizingly slow tempo, carefully brushing over your clit as he did so.

“Woo…please, can’t wait any longer.”

He looked up at you with hazy eyes, waiting for you to make eye contact with him. But you couldn’t get yourself to look him in the eye. “First tell me what’s on your mind.”He demanded.

You sighed, unhappy when you understood that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted unless you confessed. But the truth was, you yourself weren’t sure what was bothering you. You just knew that you wanted to see him tonight and have him close. Part of you worried it would be the last time.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He sprayed your chest with soft kisses, speaking into your skin in a low voice. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s wrong.” He was circling his tip over your clit now. He knew it drove you crazy, all this stimulation when all you wanted was to feel full from his cock.

“Wooyoung.” You hated begging. You hated that he wouldn’t give you what you wanted, but you were too under his spell to do anything about it other than whine pathetically as he toyed with you like this.

Wooyoung only hummed in response, lips still nipping at your sore breasts. At first, you thought he finally gave up when you felt him push his tip into your entrance. You held onto his shoulders and anticipated the stretch but the anticipation soon turned to frustration once he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty again.

Defeated, your face fell to the crook of his neck and you groaned in annoyance. “I should just have you beheaded.”

He chuckled into your ear. “Then who’ll make you cum?”

Wooyoung continued on with his game, pushing just the tip into you before pulling himself back out. So many thoughts raced over your head, some making sense, some not, but one thing was for sure and that was that you couldn’t bare to go on like this anymore.

“It’s you!” You admitted. “You’re always on my mind and I’m so tired of it! I hate you for making me feel this way, if I could go back in time I would stop myself from ever getting involved with you! Now will you just shut up and obey me for once?!”

Wooyoung was utterly dumbfounded. Although he understood that the true nature of your relationship was purely sexual servitude, he couldn’t deny that he’d often wondered if you, like him, felt something more. After thinking it over, he understood your frustrations. He had heard the rumors about the proposal. He tried not to take it personally. He knew where he stood in this relationship. Being a Royal was stressful as it was, and it was his job to offer some much needed stress relief to the Queen. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel a little depressed after hearing of your coming marriage.

Now that he knew your true feelings, Wooyoung thought about asking you to run away with him and finally free yourselves from this cage. But he also knew where your loyalties lie, and they were tightly knotted within this Kingdom. He wished you knew that his loyalties laid with you. If he told you, would it make a difference? He wondered.

He had so much he wanted to say. But he knew in the end that nothing could be done in your situation. In an effort to make things easier, he decided to finally do as he was asked and help you forget about your troubles- as well as his. Giving you that boyish smirk of his, he lined himself up with your core once again.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

With your slit covered in anticipation, and with the bath water around you, he slipped into you with ease. Both of you moaned once he bottomed out. You stayed still, connecting your lips with his, sharing the same hunger he had for you with him. His hands fell to your hips and he guided you over his shaft. The pace was slow but perfect. You didn’t want to finish so quickly, wishing to savor every bit of him for as long as you could. But all the moaning, kissing, touching, as well as having your bud being rubbed against his abs every time you came up and down his length made it impossible to stall your release.

When you were both done you remained as you were in the bathtub with your head laying against his chest whine he traced his fingers up and down your spine. He let you play with his other fingers as you both came down from your highs. You thought his fingers were still pretty even though they were all pruny from the extended time in the water. “In another life, I would’ve.” You broke the silence. You said it so quietly that you worried if he heard you or not. You didn’t think you had it in you to say it again.

Wooyoung sighed, taking a break from tracing your back to just stay still and hold you. He wondered what awful thing he did in his past life to be born as a servant. But there was nothing either of you could do about it now, other than to enjoy the night before you two went back to being strangers in the morning.

“In another life.” He agreed.

🎧 seni oilai- ALPHA

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Have you noted that no one from Azula's family was shown to express love and affection towards her?

That is mostly true. Ozai's affection is clearly conditional (and full on manipulation at worse, like we see in the finale), Ursa canonically favors Zuko to the point that we never see her spending any alone time with Azula like she did with Zuko, and while Iroh gave her a toy like he did to Zuko the toy in question was so OBVIOUSLY wrong for a kid like Azula that it's comical AND show's he did not really know his niece at all.

But there is a constant exception.

Zuko's relationship with Azula is complicated. He clearly admires her strength and power, but he hates how she uses it. She lied to him many times, was seen apparently cheering Ozai on during the Agni Kai, tried to have him imprisoned and even said she'd celebrate being an only child - and then allows him to come home as a hero after Ba Sing Se, even though SHE had the control of the Dai Li and was not yet aware Aang could have survived, meaning she had nothing to gain from it.

And when she lets him know that if he's caught talking to Iroh people might think he is a traitor too, and explicitly says "Believe it or not, I'm actually looking out for you" Zuko drops his innitial suspicion that she wanted something and that's why she was helping him.

On The Beach, he just follows her when she say their old family home is depressing and they shouldn't waste their time there. When she's asking him who she is angry at, she mentions herself and Zuko explicitly says that is not the case.

He doesn't trust her and know she has a tendency to mock or full on lie to him... yet when he wants to know about Fire Lord Sozin he asks her about it, and lets it slide when she mocks him by saying he should make sure the royal painter got his good side - for a character as quick to anger as Zuko, that is a big deal. In Nightmares and Daydreams he also goes to her to find out if he'll be allowed at the war meeting.

More importantly:

1 - Iroh's infamous "She's crazy and needs to go down" line was only said because ZUKO, without anyone putting that idea in his head before, suddenly went "I know what you're going to say. She's my sister and I should be trying to get along with her"

2 - Zuko only jumped into the fight in Ba Sing Se when Azula was being cornered by Aang and Katara.

3 - Zuko looked genuinely shocked and even distressed when she was falling off that cliff. He just sounded so shaken saying "She's... not gonna make it..."

4 - In the writer's own words, Zuko felt no hate but only pity when seeing her breakdown. Katara tried to comfort him because, canonically, even though Zuko and Azula are enemies, this was never what he wanted because he still sees her as family. That's why the Last Agni Kai's music is not the epic you'd expect from a battle, but a tragic one.

5 - Aaron Ehasz, the lead writter for the show, probably the person with the most influence after Bryke, has REPEATEDLY said that he always felt Azula should have gotten a redemption arc, Zuko being an Iroh figure to give her advice and be the only one still by her side when all else was seemingly lost to her forever.

Even the comics (most of which I HATE, mainly because Azula's storyline checks nearly every box for "the mentally ill are inherently evil/less human, so it's fine if literally every other person on the planet mistreats them") didn't fully abandon their complex dynamic.

Zuko is not a perfect sibling, and for a long chunk of the story he seemed too focused on his own issues for Azula to ever be a factor in his mind (aside from the moments in which she was a potential/explict threat), but he DOES still feel a sense of obligation towards her, to the point that it made him do something no one else in their family had done before or since - actually look at Azula. Not the prodigious daughter/perfect weapon, or the problem child that is difficult to handle, or the pontentially deadly enemy that was in the way, but Azula.

His 14-year-old sister that got on his nerves a lot, was far from the kindest person alive, and that he had a ton of issues with, but that he could never fully hate or even be indifferent to. Because she's family. Because he remembers a happier time in which the gap between them didn't seem so big. Because if things had been slightly different he could have been her. Because he went from wanting to be her to seeing just how miserable her life ended up being - especially compared to the one he now had - and feeling deeply sorry for her.

Now if you guys excuse me, I'm gonna go cry in the corner. Have some wholesome/bittersweet fanart if you wanna cry too.

[railingsofsorrow]

dance with me

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: who would have thought that a glass of water could make you sway in your feet in more ways than one.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 1.9K

warnings/content: exes that are still in love with each other trope; heartbreak!!; I'm a willifer stan, if you can tell; jack and henry being besties; pinky promises; dancing with an ex lover; I promise you heartache ™; mentions of alcohol and being drunk; ex partners walking down memory lane (longing); angst <3; poorly edited because I'm sleepy.

a/n: this is part of a short series that started with this one shot and someone asked me to do a part 2 but I ended up writing another stand-alone that may or may not connect with the first one.

navi

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jj was one of the most beautiful brides you had ever seen. her dress fit her perfectly, it seemed to have been made especially for her, even though it belonged to her mother.

will looked at her as if she was the sky holding all of the stars. no one else was around as they danced, just the two of them, you could see it in their eyes.

you were kind of drunk on their love, from afar. and, of course, you might be a little inebriated because of the few champagne glasses you've had since the party started. in your defense, it was all penelope's fault, she offered you the first glass. your will to loosen up did the rest.

you almost fell down on your butt from the way henry pulled at your dress. you didn't blame him, he's been excited all night and he had to let it all out as much as he wanted. he yanked you closer to the spot he and jack were playing on the grass of the rossi household.

“uncle spencer told us the secret of his magic trick.” jack explained as you stared at the cards laid out in front of them. “but we can't remember it.”

a chuckled escaped your lips.

“and that's exactly why he told you.”

henry pouted, his blonde strands falling from behind his ear. giving him a soft smile, you brushed them back, booping his nose as he giggled in response.

“i know why you brought me here and I'm sorry to say that I have no idea how uncle spencer does his magic tricks.” you lament as they both protest in defeat. “he never told me. but I swear if he ever does, you'll be the first to know, okay?”

“promise?” jack hotchner raised his pinky and henry made sure to imitate him eagerly.

you nodded, intertwining your own pinky with theirs. “i promise.” you whispered, kissing both of their small cheeks before standing up. penelope and derek had approached your little group and you took advantage of that to walk inside the house and fetch a cup of water. your vision was starting to get a little blurry and that was the indication you had to know that your alcohol consumption was officially over for the night.

someone else seemed to share your train of thought.

“appreciating art?”

spencer was concentrated analysing one of the art pieces in the mansion's hallway. he didn't act startled at your presence, which meant he already felt you approaching beforehand. you stared down at your heels, wondering if they were too loud.

“it's an interesting painting,” you looked up as he said it. his eyes settled on you. “do you know this one?”

“a street scene.” you responded, shifting on your feet. your feet were starting to hurt. you can't remember for how long you have been on those heels. “can't remember the artist though.”

“paul fischer,” spencer promptly said. “it was painted in 1902. he was also known as copenhagen's painter because of how much he represented his homeland on his paintings.”

you let out a slow hum, walking past him to reach the kitchen. “over a century ago.”

“109 years ago.” he chuckled as you chugged down an entire glass of water and filled it up again. “thirsty?”

you lifted a finger, a silent request to wait. spencer leaned on the kitchen counter, observing you with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“i think I may have...” you exhaled, “drank too much.”

spencer mumbled something that you weren't able to hear, but you didn't need to. you approached him slowly, also leaning on the countertop, the marble cold against your palms. narrowing your eyes at him, you said. “don't even say it.”

he had the decency to act bewildered though his lips betrayed him with a quirk on the edges. “say what?”

“you were teasing me just now.”

“i was not.” spencer raised a brow, sending a giddy smile your way. “i was simply stating that you can get carried away at parties.”

“i had two glasses.” you pouted, “maybe four.” you admitted, a half-assed lie. you had no idea how many you have had during the night. just that they were working really fast in your system.

the two of you stayed there. speaking in low voices, rather discreetly, as the party happened outside. the house was quiet but you could make out some loud voices from the open window.

your ears picked up a soft melody, and the voices quietened down. you figured it was the moment for some slow dancing.

“dance with me.”

you'd think you were the one who said that, given your state of mind a few minutes ago. spencer looked handsome in a suit, it was almost out of character for him, you never saw him without one of his sweater vests. you don't deny he's an attractive man. everything about him is attractive, not only the physical aspects but they did him justice alright.

those were the things you noticed when you were dating. and those are still the things you notice as you are exes. you wonder if there is anything you don't notice about spencer.

you froze at his outstretched hand.

oh, he said that.

is he inviting me to dance?

“me?” his grin made you blush. and to think you had been sober just now.

“yes.” he wriggled his fingers. “dance with me?” the tone of his voice carried a tinge of uncertainty.

your body responded before your mouth could. as your hand intertwined with his, the feeling of returning somewhere you had longed for so long squeezed your chest.

with your chin resting against his shoulder and the warmth of his touch enveloping your waist, the music didn't reach the kitchen anymore. you couldn't hear anything else but your heartbeat.

“you don't even like dancing.” you joked, letting him lead your swaying as you tried not to step on his feet.

his answer was closing the gap between the two of you, your bodies flush against each other. you didn't hesitate before laying your cheek on his shoulder. your fingers intertwined behind his neck, grazing against his uncovered skin.

it felt so familiar and normal that none of you flinched away. as if it was how it was supposed to be.

“i like it when I'm with you.” he said, breath tickling the side of your neck.

“the boys...” you drawled out, a smile stretching on your lips absentmindedly. “they asked me how you did your magic tricks. one of them, actually. the one with the cards.” his chuckled made his body shake a little.

“did they? but I told them.”

“you know kids don't learn it the first time. that's why you told them.”

“i can't just reveal my magic tricks like that, can I?” you pulled back a little to make sure he saw you glare at him. his grin didn't let you scowl much longer though.

shaking your head at him in faux disappointment was the worst thing you could have possibly done at that moment. spencer knew that quirk of lips as he knew his own brain and he recognized that tilt of head because of all the times you did that, it only meant one thing: you were about to tease him.

that was his weakness. your lazy smile along with your fluttering eyelashes. basically, your whole charming persona. you. you were his weakness. spencer has admitted that since he knew he was in love with you.

it used to overwhelm him to be this close to somebody, the warmth of two bodies colliding felt too much of a torture for him. until you came along and showed him what safety felt like.

he felt safe when your fingertips grazed the nape of his neck. when you laid your head on his shoulder and when you softly mumbled the song playing outside right by his ear.

you're right here and he's missing you.

isn't that crazy?

“that used to be my favourite song.” you said, caressing the spot behind his earlobe. his eyes were shut as his feet followed the slow rhythm of the melody.

he hummed, “it was all that you listened to for an entire month.” your laugh brought joy to him as he looked down at you. happiness looked good on you.

“yes.” you shrugged, touching his jaw gently. “but you enjoyed it.”

“i did.” he confessed. “it's calm. soothing.” like your voice. I never get tired of it.

he brushed a strand behind your ear. “is it not your favourite song anymore?”

and just like that, the light in your eyes dimmed. it might have been imperceptible if he wasn't that close. too close.

do people ever feel so comfortable around ex partners as he is with you right now? dancing to a song you used to sing it for him?

“it hurts to listen to it.” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence and you rested your head on his shoulder as if you were attempting to avoid his gaze. it physically painted him when you did that. “reminds me of you.”

he thought about apologising. he thought about asking why does it remind you of me and why would it hurt. but spencer was aware of the answer to both questions. he knew why you couldn't listen to it without memories swarming into your brain like a storm. he knew how hard it was and how much it absolutely crushed you that your favourite song reminded you of an ex lover. of him.

he chose to stay silent.

at the same time he wanted to spare you any emotional pain, he wanted to hear if you were hurting as much as he was. how unfair was that? loving you and having you in his arms but not being able to be with you like he wanted to?

was it hard for you too? did it make you want to take back the words you said just like he wanted to take back everything he had said? did it destroy you wholeheartedly?

spencer doesn't know for how long you stayed there at rossi's kitchen, swaying to a song that no longer played. at some point, you retracted your hand from his neck, lowering slightly to take off your high heels, immediately releasing a breath of relief.

and your touch lingered like a ghost. his soul was void. vulnerable and lonely. once again.

emily walked in the kitchen and you two acted as a couple that had been caught doing something wrong. you had been talking — dancing for just a previous moment — there wasn't anything wrong with that, was it?

spencer felt out of it all of a sudden. at one moment, he knows how to act around you, he feels as if he can touch you and hold you like he never missed his chance. and then, a second later, you're walking away and he's not stopping you from leaving.

“it's still my favourite song.”

and it was his, too.

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a/n: the dancing part was definitely not inspired by mitski's song my love mine all mine.

source: the painting mentioned

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taglist: @lilyviolets

[sex-storytime]

Builders

*** this story is a reader's request ***

My wife Terri is absolutely gorgeous. She could have made a fortune modeling, but always said it was a waste of her brain. She's 31, brunette - 5'5" tall and has a pair of breasts to die for. They are 34C and perfectly proportioned.

You might wonder why I am waxing lyrical about her in such detail. The reason is that: I still can't believe that I managed to get her for myself. To cut to the chase, we met when she was an innocent 21 year old student and I was an experienced 28 year old successful guy who could jet her off to exotic places and bedeck her with expensive clothes and gifts. She used to be so coy and shy about her good looks and would come running to me at parties when she was being hit upon by just about every red-blooded guy in the place.

The thing is, as she has become more confident over the last few years, she has realised that she is extremely desirable in comparison with her friends. Men always start chatting to her friends and then ask what her name is and ask if she's single etc. Which you can imagine doesn't go down too well.

Good. Because I haven't even begun to start telling you what I witnessed in my back garden last summer. My wife has great tits and she knows it. She spent days wearing men's-cut string-vests and minuscule cheese-cloth 'things' which occasionally covered her breasts just when our neighbours employed a team of hunky young tradesmen to set up scaffolding and repoint and re-paint their house. Terri was playing out her own and my fantasy.

So, we've established that my wife has outstanding breasts. It's not surprising that when we suddenly found ourselves invaded by a band of builders and painters working on our neighbour's house last summer, Terri really came into her own and saw our garden as a stage. They were mainly young, fit guys in their twenties who would invariably have their shirts off for most of the day showing huge amounts of tanned firm pecs and six-pack stomachs -- Sadly, something that I don't have anymore. Of course, I had noticed their behaviour, but I feel Terri had noticed it even more. When I would mention anything concerning these men, she would act ignorant as if she hadn't been aware of them. (I've realised over the years that she is not a very convincing liar).

Now for the record, Terri has never been a keen gardener. So it was odd that she was suddenly out in the garden at every opportunity and if she wasn't sunbathing in a tight-fitting bikini, but she was wandering about and bending over flower-beds in cropped and very flimsy gaping tops. Most of the time she would couple these little revealing tops with an extremely short denim mini skirt. Suffice it to say, there wasn't much concentrated work happening on the neighbour's house. In fact, the only pointing that was going on, was in the direction of my wife's body.

On two occasions I came home from work at around 6.30pm to find her sitting around our garden table in the warm evening sunlight with two or three of these guys. They were all drinking bottles of cold beers which I later found out were supplied by her.

On the second occasion she was wearing her short denim mini skirt, but moreover, she was also wearing a ludicrously revealing top. It was something I'd created with a pair of scissors for her out of a string vest (men's style) and was strictly 'For our Bedroom use only'. I had deliberately made it halter-neck; cutting the sides to gape open -- therefore allowing her breasts to naturally spill out... yet not quite showing her nipples completely. So, I couldn't believe that she had pulled this top out of the drawer and had made a conscious decision to wear it today. She could have worn one of her little bikini tops with it? But no! To add extra insult and excitement, she was reclining back and forth on her chair wearing this special top which allowed unrestricted views of her gorgeous breasts. Okay! She wasn't topless, but... because it was a men's string vest, you could blatantly see her nipples poking through the holes in the fabric.

Oh and by the way, the men had taken their shirts off and were showing their highly toned chest muscles and copious amounts of testosterone. Luckily they were still wearing their jeans.

When I first wandered into this scenario, I was surprised that not one of them seemed at all embarrassed at the delicious state of undress being demonstrated by my wife, and Terri didn't seem to react in any way either. She just casually said, "Hi darling, you're home early."

And carried on soaking up the attention. As the men started to make gestures to leave for the day, I wandered back to the house to start cooking some supper, but I couldn't help over-hearing one of them say to Terri, "Well 'Sexy', we'll see you tomorrow then."

To which she responded with, "You'll probably see a LOT MORE of me tomorrow, as I'm going to have a chill-out day and catch some rays."

I could see their faces light up as they glanced at each other grinning as they walked away.

When Terri joined me in the kitchen I glibly said, "Did they enjoy their drink?"

"I should think they needed it to cool themselves down while they were looking at your breasts?" I replied.

She tried to look puzzled and then eventually looked down at her top and said that I was being boring, stuffy and ridiculous. And that it'd been so hot earlier during the afternoon that, at one stage, she nearly took it off altogether!

I enquired what her plans were for tomorrow. She said that she going shopping in the morning and was going to chill-out in the garden in the afternoon as she had done the bulk of the gardening. "Does chilling-out mean sunbathing?" I said.

She said she might grab some sun before the summer's over.

With a lump in my throat, I then asked her, "And will you be keeping your bikini on or going topless?"

She walked up to me and kissed me by the ear and sexily whispered, "Who knows..? It all depends on how brave I'm feeling and anyway, you know I don't like to have any lines."

I naturally took this to mean that those young guys would be getting a real gorgeous eyeful of her naked breasts tomorrow afternoon.

I couldn't resist saying, "So you're going to get your tits out for the boys, then?"

She walked passed me muttering that "it's her garden, and her body and if they want to look it's their choice!"

With that declaration, I made a point of telling her that I wouldn't be home tomorrow night as I had a strategy meeting in Nottingham which starts at six O'clock, so I planned to stay at the company flat with Frank and John overnight.

My parting comment seemed to go straight over her head, I simply stated, "It's apparently going to be a scorcher tomorrow, so I expect you'll get a bit of a roasting if you're half-naked in the garden?"

She promptly retorted, "It wouldn't bother you if I went over the top would it?"

I shook my head.

"I'll just stop when I've had enough," she said almost purring.

I wasn't sure if she'd got my drift or she was innocently talking about the burn factor of the sun. Anyway, one thing I was sure about was that there was no way I was going to a meeting in Nottingham tomorrow - I was going to secretly find out what her intentions were.

That night in bed while I was caressing her beautiful pussy I asked her whether she fancied any of the guys who were working next door. We would often have 'mind sex' where we would talk each other through different fantasies of her being with another man or other men. We would both get extremely turned on and it would seriously intensify our orgasms. So when she said that she 'had the hots' for at least three of them and wouldn't mind finding out what they had between their legs, I wasn't sure whether it was a bit of sexy talk or if it was for real? There was only one way to find out.

I told her that if she had serious hots for one of them that she should find out, and that it was okay by me. She raised her head and said, "Are you sure?"

This freaked me again because I couldn't tell if it was just another sexy tease. Then again, that's what Terri was - An incredibly sexy tease and the master at it!

I left her in bed the next morning and went to the office. I told my secretary that I would need to leave at 2pm as there was a problem at the house. There wasn't ever a meeting in Nottingham, I just made it up so Terri would feel relaxed to do exactly as she pleased (all part of my plan).

I got to the house at around 2.30pm and parked out of site around the corner. There's an overgrown path which runs along the end of our garden which I decided would be a good starting vantage point. Glancing through the hedge, I could see the men working on the neighbours house, but I couldn't see Terri anywhere. Yet, I did notice the sun-lounger had been set up with one of the small tables alongside.

As I started to check-out and wonder which of the eight to ten guys she thought were rather gorgeous, I noticed one of them nudge another and then nod in the direction of our back door. There she was. My fabulous, majestic wife. Strolling out with a tray of fruit and a chilled bottle of white wine. Thankfully, she WAS wearing a bikini top [albeit a very small white string affair] and she also had a floaty, white lace sarong tied around her hips. With her blonde hair and cool Victoria Beckham style shades, she looked fantastic. She put the fruit in the shade under the sun-lounger and poured herself a large glass of wine, after taking a sip she removed her sarong to reveal the smallest tie-sided bikini thong I'd ever seen. "This must be a new purchase? Ah ha... that's probably what her impromptu shopping trip this morning was all about?" I mused.

She reclined on the lounger and started to apply sun-cream to her legs and shoulders. The guys on the scaffolding had almost stopped working. They were transfixed by my wife's beautiful body, and probably had the words she'd said to them the night before still ringing in their ears.

Terri, at this point, glanced up at the guys and gave them a smile and a little wave. Two of them responded with muted wolf-whistles. (I know that girl's actually like being whistled at), and so with that Terri blushed slightly and sort of blew them a kiss (I think?) and laid back on the lounger. Arching her back to get into a comfortable position - but I would suggest also teasing the guys by allowing a good view of her breasts.

After about ten minutes she rolled over on to her front and started to read her magazine. One of the guys who was in the garden the previous evening shouted down and asked her whether she needed some sun-cream rubbed into her back. She immediately said, "That would be fantastic, are you sure you don't mind?"

He just laughed and said, "Are you crazy Terri? Wild horses and all that."

You can imagine the emotions going through my body as I watch this young, fit guy climb down the ladder and approach my wife. I was shaking with fear and anticipation.

Terri was lying gloriously in-wait. (Like a blonde Cleopatra expecting her man servant.) Suddenly, there was a fit young man touching my, almost naked, wife. He seemed to be enjoying rubbing his hands all over her back and thighs - and she was responding with very complementary sighs. Yet, it was when he started gently rubbing oil into her beautiful bum that I got really aroused. When he'd finished enjoying my wife's bottom, he whispered something in her ear and she nodded. He then untied the string of her bikini top and let the ties slip off to each side. "She's a bit brave," I thought. But, what was strange, was when she then removed the whole top over her head and dropped it onto the patio. I just couldn't believe what a sexy little minx she was being? I then heard her say to her hunky and willing adonis, "I promised my husband that I'd keep my top on as there are so many hunky young men around at the moment, but I hate having white lines, you know what I mean? I generally go topless in the garden, but that's when I can't be over-looked - it's probably best not to today?"

I could just make out that he said back to her, "Terri, just do what feels natural to you, after all, you've got a fantastic body - so why hide it?"

"Thanks for that, and you're not so bad yourself," she sexily answered back.

"I'll tell you, all the guys think you're absolutely gorgeous!"

So with 'Mr Universe' back up on the scaffolding she wrapped her arms around the top of her head and appeared to nod off. Because her bikini thong was so small, from my position [with just a string at the back], it looked as if she was completely naked. And that hadn't gone unnoticed by her adoring audience.

So maybe she was just teasing ME by saying that she'd let them see her breasts. Then I had an idea. I rang the house phone wondering whether she would just leap up to answer it without putting her top on. It'd be her perfect excuse to tease to boys big-time.

The phone started ringing in the dining room - and thankfully she heard it. Her next move pleased me enormously. She grabbed her sarong and held it to her chest and ran into the house to answer it. Of course, I rang off just before she got there, [naturally disguising the call so she wouldn't call me back - which would rather give the game away].

She returned a couple of minutes later with the walk-about phone in her hand and she had side-tied her sarong properly around her like a short strapless dress. Of course, because it was made of white cotton lace, it was extremely see-through. So, as she sexily swaggered back, her glorious unrestrained breasts were gently moving from side-to-side. 'God, she looks amazing!' I thought.

She poured herself another glass of wine and carefully placed both the glass and the phone on the side table. Then to my amazement she casually untied the knot of her sarong at the side and let it slip off her breasts, pausing briefly on her erect nipples, and fall to ground, she then she took quite a few seconds before she gracefully returned her lean, fit body to the sun-lounger in her face-down position. The guys were absolutely goggle-eyed and speechless. And I couldn't believe that ALL of these guys had just seen my wife's perfect breasts, albeit for just a few memorable seconds. All the same, why did she need to be so deliberate and do that? "She really is a proper little minx after all," I muttered to myself.

I heard the gaffer call out that 'tea was up' and saw the troupe of bronzed adonises descend the scaffolding. Terri glanced up to see the vacant builder's structure and promptly turned her body over onto her front. She ran her hands through her hair and rested them above her head leaning her head to the side. She pushed her shades to the top of her head and closed her eyes. "Ah... you clever little babe," I thought. "She's going to pretend to fall asleep, so when all the boys return, they'll get uninterrupted views of her statuesque breasts?"

Surprise, surprise I was correct. Ten minutes later they returned to their working positions [and eight men climbing creaky ladders makes a lot of noise], unsurprisingly, Terri didn't move a muscle. Yet, I'm sure something would've been stirring inside her.

Our young studs were acting like excited schoolkids as if peeping into the girl's changing rooms. One guy even got his glasses out for a clearer view!

For a full 15 minutes Terri allowed them all to ogle her naked breasts before feigning a mild awakening, and then made a contrived gesture of placing her arm across her chest to cover herself up. One of the guys said quite loudly, "Ahhh, sadly the show's over boys!"

Terri looked up at them smiling and quietly said, "Sorry, I must have nodded-off."

Back came the reply, "With a body like that, you can nod-off as many times as you like, Darling."

Another of the men quickly added, "No need to cover up now Terri as we've all been looking at your naked boobs for the last 30 minutes! You’ll get bikini lines!"

Then came her big mistake, she looked up at the boys and said, "It wasn't that long!"

How did she know? She was asleep - wasn't she?

She seemed to overlook her error and smiled back at them again and then slowly and very deliberately slid her arm away from her breasts letting out a little giggle in the process. Then turning towards their view-point, she arched her back, and shouted up to them, "Okay, but as long you don't mind?"

The lads reeled back with astonishment and proceeded to let out a little cheer with a wolf-whistle chorus.

I could tell she was loving all of this. She knows she has a great pair of tits, but has never been brave enough to expose them in this crazy manner until now!

She stood up and wandered back into the house wearing just her white string thong. As she reappeared topless a few minutes later carrying a cool-box they all gave her another soft chorus of whistles. She tried desperately to conceal it, but couldn't help a little smile to herself. Then another comment came from above, "I think you need some oil on those, Terri! If you need a hand, just ask, okay love?"

She seemed to ignore the comment at first, but then retorted with, "Actually, a few of you seem to have very red shoulders... Do you want me to give you some of my suntan oil?"

One of the guys [I'm sure it was 'Mr Gorgeous' - the one she had the hots for], called back with, "You can do us, if one of us can do you?"

Now, this is where her amazingly natural innocence kicks in, because her reply was absolutely mind-blowing! She simply said, "Okay it's a deal, but don't you want me to do all of you?"

Sniggers all round as you can imagine. Again, she hadn't realised her sexy double entendre. Or had she?

You've never seen four guys descend a ladder quicker. Within seconds they were standing in our garden parading their impressive pecs and six-pack stomachs for my Terri. They were told to line up and turn around in Terri's very forceful manner.

Two had faded jeans on their lower bodies, the other two were wearing cropped shorts. From my perspective, it looked like something straight out of a porn-movie. Anyway, Terri stood up, wearing just her minuscule white thong, and proceeded to rub oil into each of their shoulders taking time to feel their firm muscles. I could see on occasions she was allowing her naked breasts to gently brush against their well-oiled backs. In very hot weather, Terri's nipples don't normally get erect, especially when we're on the beach and she's sun-bathing topless... BUT today, they appeared to be pointing out the sun!

The boys naturally turned round all gazing at her perfect swaying breasts and said, "Is it our turn to do you now?"

This is the point that I realised her true intentions her answer was so loaded. "Come round and chill-out with some cold beers when the sun has gone down - And you can do me then."

"Why would she need sun-tan oil when the sun has gone down?" I pondered.

I think the guys were getting the gist as well as they raised their eyebrows almost in unison. And then quickly said, "We're knocking off in about half and hour anyway, so you'd better line 'em up gorgeous!"

"Okay, but wait a mo, I need to call my husband first, um, because he's staying in Nottingham tonight."

I could see them rubbing their hands together with glee. Then suddenly "Shit!" I thought. She's going to ring me!," I ran to the path and ran down it. I had to be as far away as possible from the house so she wouldn't hear my mobile ring.

It rang. It was Terri. I answered immediately. "Hiya!" I said quietly.

"Hi darling, you okay?" she said.

"Yeah, I'm fine, on my way to Nottingham, are you alright? Naked in bed with six hunky men I suppose?" I said jokingly.

"Don't be silly, I'm doing the laundry. The hunky men will come later!" teasingly giggling back.

"Okay, you little minx, have fun. I'll call you later after the meeting has ended, bye!"

She'd done it again! 'The hunky men will come later?' yeah and I wonder where? You horny thing! And you made a point of telling them that I was away in Nottingham for the night. Obvious or what?

I turned my phone off for fear of other calls and quietly walked back to my vantage point. She was still inside the house and on the phone… the way she was giggling I knew she was talking to her sister. Dawn was younger than she was but just as insatiable. Terri put the phone down and I could see her profile in the floor to ceiling bathroom windows. They are frosted, but we normally close the oak Venetian blinds whilst taking a shower. Not today it seems? I don't think the men had noticed her as it was at a pretty obtuse angle from their line of sight.

Anyway, after about ten minutes Dawn appeared…

"Come here, darling." Terri placed her arms around Dawn and drew her close.

Dawn welcomed the warmth and comfort of the embrace. She rested her head on Terri's chest, surprised to hear the other woman's heart beating so quickly. Then when she opened her eyes, she discerned the clear definition of her friend's nipples protruding through the thin material of her tee shirt. Had Terri become turned on by what she had told her?

For her part, Terri had become increasingly horny as the day progressed. The young woman was as tall as Terri, but whereas my wife was all lean and muscular, her sister's body was filled out with a pert, exquisite bust and a rounded firm posterior that was begging to be squeezed. If that wasn't bad enough, Dawn looked even more appealing with just a towel wrapped around her. There was even a moment as they leaned against each other sweating profusely, that Terri would have risked a kiss to drive the builders into a frenzy.

Dragging dawn into view of the garden and raising Dawn's chin with her finger, Terri planted a gentle kiss on her lips. When she met with no resistance, she tenderly sucked upon Dawn's lower lip, drawing it outwards, before releasing it and plunging her tongue deep into the other woman's mouth all for show. The bedroom curtains were wide open and the large picture windows revealed everything and the patio door was open.

As Terri intensified the interrogation of her mouth, Dawn reached out and took hold of her sister’s breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh, feeling the nipple protest against the palm of her hand. She had been just as fascinated with Terri's bigger tits as any of the men who had ogled them in the swimming pool. Pulling the tee shirt free of the denim skirt, Dawn's hand went beneath the flimsy garment and delved into the half-cup bra to extricate the large melon. When she rolled the teat firmly between her thumb and forefinger, it responded by getting even harder and longer.

Terri moaned into her mouth before breaking off their kiss and rolling onto her side. This was there plan! They had hatched this together. This was the moment the builders began nudging each other, still several metres away. They all stopped what they were doing. One by one their hands adjusted themselves in their jeans.

Dawn pushed Terri's tee shirt up out of the way. Taking one of the champagne glasses, she poured some of the sparkling, golden liquid on the exposed breast before clamping her mouth down on it, taking in the nipple and most of the large areola, and began to suck upon it deeply and rhythmically.

In reciprocation, Terri placed her hand under Dawn's dress, running up past the end of her stockings, across the bare flesh of her thighs, until her fingers slipped beneath the panty leg opening and alighted upon a very sodden and shaven pussy.

"Jesus!" exclaimed Terri. "I never get this wet, at least, not this quickly. You really are a horny, little slut, aren't you, Dawn?"

Dawn lifted her head from Terri's breast and said while smiling, "I can be. For the right person." Then rising up to kneel on the bed she lifted her dress up over her head and threw it on the floor, then she unclasped her bra and sent it in the same direction letting her full, firm breasts free. Terri quickly followed suit.

Once naked, Terri wrapped her arms tightly around Dawn, squashing their big breasts together as she pushed the other woman down upon the soft mattress where they kissed passionately, their hands exploring and probing each other's intimate places.

After a few moments, Terri broke off the embrace. She turned 180 degrees, so she could kneel while straddling Dawn's face. Then she leant forward and plunged her hungry mouth into Dawn's pussy, zoning in on her clitoris and darting her tongue across it horizontally. Facing a pussy of her own, Dawn replicated the other woman's actions exactly. Licking then sucking on the clit before using her fingers to expose the inner lips that were already soaked in arousal fluids. Finally, elongating her tongue, she drove it repeatedly deep inside Terri's vaginal opening while her thumb pushed and probed the young woman's engorged clitoris.

It didn't take very long for both to cum, and when they did it was almost simultaneous. Dawn's whole body shuddered in response to the sensations that engulfed her, while Terri moved her hips backwards and forwards, grinding her wet and hairy mound into Dawn's face, greedily extending her own climax.

Dawn might have drifted off into a post-coital sleep, but it appeared Terri was not yet finished. She supposed that was the difference between having sex with a woman rather than a man. A man needed time to recover once he was spent. A woman was ready to go again immediately.

Terri raised herself to her knees on the bed and said. "Come here, you gorgeous creature." Dawn obeyed and both women embraced and began kissing again. Then Terri shifted her position so her pussy, or more precisely, her clitoris, was sitting upon Dawn's upper thigh. She then began to move backwards, then forwards, and Dawn could feel the intense heat being generated by the hot, slippery cunt sliding along her flesh.

Dawn took hold of one of the young woman's impressive breasts and began to manipulate it with the palm of her hand. Then, employing a trick she had learnt from Old Man Hargreaves, she suddenly clamped the nipple between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed on it very tightly, before twisting the nugget sharply to one side. Terri let out a loud moan that Dawn recognised as a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Oh, you little, fucking slut", Terri exclaimed in delight.

Moving even higher up on Dawn's thigh, Terri positioned herself so that both their pussies were aligned, and their engorged clitorises met. Then holding each other tightly, their big breasts mashed together, their mouths locked in a wet embrace, they began to push against each other, and the effect on such sensitive organs of the body was electrifying. They moved slowly at first, concentrating on maintaining points of contact, pussy to pussy, clit to clit, moaning involuntarily, then gradually their motion got faster, eventually becoming frantic in response to the heat that was building up inside them both.

Terri climaxed first. She unleashed a string of almost unintelligible obscenities through gritted teeth. As she did so, Dawn felt the hot gush of the other woman's squirting arousal fluids strike her pussy and it pushed her over the edge. The two young women collapsed upon the now soaking bed, their limbs still entwined, their bodies luxuriating in the aftermath of their convulsions.

That's when Mr Gorgeous approached the open bedroom door. Dawn rose from the bed and took him by the hand into the kitchen. As they left the dining area, Dawn looked over at Terri and said something to her. Dawn and the builder spoke at length but completely out of earshot. When she rose from her seat he stayed there.

Dawn wrapped her knuckles on the bedroom door, she was initially disappointed to hear no answer from within. She cursed herself for not first phoning the room and checking that Terri would be there before buying the expensive champagne. She was just about to leave when she thought she discerned a shadow cross the tiny pin-prick of light in the door's peephole.

"Are you in there Terri? It's Dawn," she found herself saying, although it felt somewhat redundant given that the person inside would have already seen her through the peephole. "If I caught you at a bad time, I could come back later, or we could meet up in the restaurant and have some lunch."

"Just give me a minute." It was Terri who spoke, although her voice sounded distant because of the thickness of the door.

After what seemed like an unnecessarily long time, the door finally opened, and Dawn was able to step inside still carrying the Bollinger in one hand and the two champagne flutes in the other. She had expected to find Terri just out of bed, perhaps in pajamas, without makeup and her lovely auburn hair disheveled, but she couldn't have been further from the truth.

Terri was wearing a short and tight fitting chemise. It was made of black satin with lace trimmings and had a sexy slit on one side that showed enough of her thigh to suggest she was not wearing panties. The garment struggled to enclose her large breasts and cover her arse. An application of mascara accentuated her naturally long, dark eyelashes and the lipstick she wore was of a light, pink sheen. The woman was dressed for something, but it certainly wasn't sleep.

"Were you expecting me?" asked Dawn.

Terri's response was a silent smile. She took the bottle and glasses from Dawn and placed them on a small desk by the wall. Dawn stepped up behind her and bent to kiss the other woman's neck. As she did so, she reached forward and began to massage one of Terri's full, firm breasts beneath the soft fabric of her chemise. After a moment or two, Terri turned, and they kissed. Dawn slipped her stocking covered leg between those of Terri's until she felt the intense heat of the other woman's mound grind against her thigh.

"Well, well, ladies. What have we here?"

It was Mr Gorgeous. He looked like he was ready to devour them both and behind him, in full view of the incestuous scene were the rest of the work team.

Terri dismounted with an embarrassed smile and led the object of her carnal desires back into the garden as Dawn made herself presentable. My wife had no shame, she grbbed her sheer night-gown and, virtually naked, she pulled on her panties and lay down on the sun lounger, all in full view.

"Come on boys! It's chill-out time!," she announced. With that, it was tools down and then down the ladder in under two minutes.

Suddenly five bronzed hunks were standing over my wife. Their shirts off; their muscles glistening and their eyes firmly focussed on Terri's fabulous body. She handed the cold beers round and the tops were flipped without waiting for the bottle-opener. "Oooh, you're the original big strong boys, aren't you?" Terri cooed at them.

With no hesitation, one of them stated, "He's the biggest..." pointing at 'Mr Gorgeous'.

Terri's head sunk into her shoulders and she looked up mouthing, "I thought you might be." Looking at the guy who pointed, she said, "Exactly how big is he?"

I could just see that he made a 'fisherman type' of gesture.

"Anyway sexy, how come you've put a dress on?" one of them enquired.

She went on to explain that too much sun makes her a bit sore, and that she would usually rub-in some after-sun at this stage.

'Mr Gorgeous looking' then said, "Allow us to assist you... after all, we'd hate you to feel sore tomorrow morning, wouldn't we guys?"

Terri was in her element as she continued to play the tease with these guys. I could hear her explaining that it would mean she'd need to remove her dress for them if they were going to properly cover her in the After-Sun lotion - and that, she was only wearing a very small g-string underneath. One of them immediately said, "It can't be smaller than your bikini bottoms, so why don't you just stand up and let us get started?"

"Huh!" she chuffed, "You wanna bet?" With that, she stood up holding her empty glass and the bottle of After-Sun and asked one of them to pop the cork on the champagne and pour. She took two very big sips from her glass and put her arms above her head. She must have muttered something at this point because three of them immediately encircled her and started undoing the shoe-string ties of her dress. While one was un-lacing her back another was applying the white cream to any exposed areas.

I couldn't help being extremely aroused at this sight, and kept wondering whether she would actually let them rub the After-Sun cream over her breasts... I know she's always been a huge tease, so I assumed she'd be a real bitch and spoil their fun right at the last moment.

I didn't have to wait for long - I needed to shift my position slightly because one the guys was blocking my view. And Christ! My next sight was awesome, seeing Terri's now un-tied dress slowly glide down her sensational body making a sculpted puddle of white cotton at her feet. 'God, she looks amazing!', I thought. And she wasn't joking about the size of her panties either! Her 'g-string' was no more than a 3" equilateral cotton triangle with similar shoe-string sides to her dress. 'Huh... another new purchase?' I mused.

I really didn't think Terri would ever go this far for real. Here I am watching my wife standing with her hands in her hair allowing a group of men run their hands all over her body. And yes after coating and rubbing it in to her stomach they moved up and then paid special attention to her breasts. They took it in turns to stand behind her and cup her beautiful boobs in their hands. I had never seen her nipples so hard! It was also obvious that her legs were getting wider apart the higher they stroked her inner thighs. She began making quite loud sighs of enjoyment whenever they got close to her pussy. I kept saying to myself, "She won't let them remove her knickers... I know she won't. she just won't"

They took it in turns to stand behind her and cup her beautiful breasts in their hands. I had never seen her nipples so hard! It was also obvious that her legs were getting wider apart the higher they stroked her inner thighs. She began making quite loud sighs of enjoyment whenever they got close to her pussy. I kept saying to myself, "She won't let them remove her knickers I know she won't she just won't!"

Then my heart sank as I heard her respond to one of them with, "Yeah! They're not knotted - they're just bows"

"Are you sure Terri?" one of them asked.

"Oh God yeah, no. Hang-on though! Before I'll let you take mine off, you have to take your's off first!"

What an inspired reply?

Within 20 seconds she had five, very fit, naked young men standing before her. From my angle I could only see two of them from a slight side aspect, the other three were facing away from me. Yet, it didn't take much detective work for me to ascertain that 'Mr Gorgeous-Adonis' was obviously hung like a horse by the fixated look on Terri's face.

She smiled at them and then slowly walked back among the circle of men with a very sexy swagger; raised her arms; spun round like a ballerina and said with a wanton voice "I'm all yours boys!"

"Oh my God!" I whispered. "This was it?" I realised that she'd just given full permission to five muscle-bound men to view her beautiful heart-shaped pussy at close quarters. And, of course, there were three others watching from next door. They were running their hands all over her; I saw a hand in-between her legs and then another slide down the front of her knickers. I wanted to stop them, but I knew that if I did, it would be curtains for Terri and me because she would never forgive me for my sordid, deceitful plan. I would look simply stupid and pathetic in her eyes. I had to endure watching them tight-lipped as they carefully un-tied her panties and oh so slowly exposed her pussy.

As her panties fell away two heads moved in to take their place. They were kissing her thighs and stomach, and all around her pussy. She was in sheer ecstasy, she seemed to be bending her knees to get lower down, just as one of them moved directly underneath her - fell to his knees and started using his tongue on her. I know how much she loves it when I go down on her, so this highly charged situation must have been electric Utopia for her! She also seemed to have an impressive penis in each hand and many men's hands running amok over her breasts.

Obviously it was her ultimate pleasure dome, because the next sweated utterance from her lips was, "I've got have sex with one of you now! I need to feel one of you inside me!!"

I then witnessed my beautiful naked wife turn to her left to face 'Mr Gorgeous' and sink her tongue into his mouth. They were locked together for what seemed like an age. (It's strange, but this affected me so much more than her allowing any of them to have their tongues inside her pussy - I suppose it's because kissing passionately is a 'love thing' as opposed to a 'sex thing'?)

Her hands went onto his shoulders forcing him to his knees, she followed him down moments after and straddled his legs. She was inches away from his very impressive cock, 'He was a big boy!' Then she seemed to pause for a couple of seconds as he said something to her.

I heard Terri say, "No. Don't worry, it's much nicer without one!"

She then lowered herself down on top of him and he slid his penis into her waiting pussy. She licked and kissed his lips again in-between some unusually loud noises of extreme pleasure. Being so familiar with her vocal exclamations during sex, it appeared to me that the little hussy came within a minute of riding up and down on this guy. High-pitched extended sighs; her head arched back and then falling forward to nestle on his chest; while her arms flail and feebly enwrap his body. "Yep... that was Terri having an orgasm and a major one at that!"

Bastard! No other man had ever made her climax before me. Then again, I had always encouraged her to explore her own body and be completely open with me about which places and positions were good for her. And to be relaxed about it in front of me! It took a long time, but eventually she managed to achieve orgasms very readily. "All that mental evaluation and manual stimuli and maybe, just maybe, all she really needed was a man with a huge penis?" Of course, it could've been the combination of another man kneeling behind her caressing and stroking her nipples at the same time?

Anyway, while this notion was curdling in my brain, I saw the man of her dreams ejaculate inside her accompanied by some very exaggerated grunts of hedonistic pleasure.

To my surprise, she just gave him a prolonged kiss him on the lips and then swiftly turned round and straddled the guy behind her. She even took the lead and used her hand to gently guide his penis into her. For ten minutes or so she gracefully moved him in and out of her, until he picked her up and repositioned her on the edge of the sun-lounger. With her ankles over his shoulders he proceeded to pound his penis into her. I couldn't actually tell if Terri came again, but he certainly did! And with great ceremony.

I had to keep reminding myself that these men were the builders who would spend half their day watching my gorgeous wife in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her cleavage, or let alone, one of her nipples? And now she is completely naked, lying on her back with her legs splayed apart and her arms draped above her head. Since the second guy came inside her, she'd made no attempt to cover herself up at all. Was one of the other men going to take her? They seemed to hesitate.

Ten or fifteen seconds went by and her legs were still wide open at 90 degrees!

Thankfully, she raised her head. Closing her legs and grasping her crumpled dress to her chest, "Wow! That was lovely!" She said. "C'mon, I fancy a shower. Any of you sexy hunks want to join me and scrub my back? My shower's very big - I'm sure I'll be able to fit you all in!"

"Oh yeah Terri. Two down and three to go!!" snapped one of them back.

There she goes again, I thought. She's the true Queen of the innocent double entendre. I next saw her beautiful naked bum disappear into the house followed by a group of very overexcited men. For the next two hours I had to listen to squeals and laughter; sounds of intense sexual pleasure and lots of splashing of water. By this time the sun had dipped, so I could just make out the shapes of many naked bodies moving about in our bathroom. I did see Terri's naked bum pushed up against the huge frosted-glass window by two of the men at one point, but it was mostly a sound-only show after that.

Still a little shocked, I returned to my car and contemplated on what to do next. I could hardly waltz through the door as I had already said to her that I was in Nottingham only an hour ago. Then again, I didn't want to sleep in the car and staying in a hotel round the corner from my own house was not only extravagant, but also very suspicious. Most of the hotels' staff knew me and Terri from various parties and local weddings we'd attended together. I decided to return to scene of the 'crime' my crime, that is. I should never have set up such an elaborate trap, because I'm the one who's now trapped.

I walked into our back garden, which was now quiet, and immediately saw the bathroom light being switched off. The bedroom light came on (our bedroom!), but also, a few moments later, the kitchen light came on. I had to duck behind a shrub to avoid being spotted. When I peered through the foliage, I could see Terri rushing in wearing her long black chemise which I'd given her last Christmas. Her hair was wet and she looked sensational (and strangely she didn't appear to be wearing the matching panties which go with it!) She was followed by two of the men who were completely naked and dripping wet. She had grabbed two bottles of Champagne from the fridge and handed them to the men, she then reached up to the cupboard to get some glasses. I was incensed, these two men just couldn't keep their hands off her!

She kissed both men with a peck and promptly swooshed out of the kitchen. I could see her running up the stairs carrying at least six glasses. "Six glasses? That means she's entertaining five men!" I thought.

We'd talked and fantasised about her with two men and me watching, but never with FIVE men and me NOT watching!

[vsnyarbll]

never enough pt 2

part 1

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

words: 4.105

summary: Aegon is trying to get reader to forgive him after breaking her heart.

warnings: NSFW (not detailed/making out), angst/fluff, targcest

a/n: English is not my native language.

Both Aegon and Y/N had locked themselves in their rooms.

It had been two weeks since the two of them had argued in the garden. No one had seen either of them in the castle for two weeks.

Y/N had welcomed Jace into her room at the end of the week, but no one knew what state Aegon was in.

The only people who came in and out of his room were the servants. But he hid from them too.

When they came to his room, he would either hide under his sheets or stand in front of the window and hide his face from them.

They were pleased that Prince Aegon wasn't talking to them.

Baela stopped at the door to Y/N’s room. She was holding illustrated history books. Y/N had been looking for them in the library since they arrived at the palace, but she couldn't find them.

No one knew what had happened, but it was clear that something was going on between Aegon and Y/N.

Baela went over her conversation with Jace in her head again. Jace allowed her to go to her room on one condition.

Aegon was not to be mentioned.

Jace had told Baela dozens of times not to tell Y/N to talk to Aegon. The longer Aegon stayed away from his sister, the better.

Baela entered without knocking. Y/N was sitting at her desk, reading a book. There was a big glass in front of her. Baela guessed it was wine because she looked disheveled. Even though it was late afternoon, she had not yet changed her clothes or done her hair.

She looked up at the girl standing in the doorway.

"Why didn't you knock?"

"So I could see you like this."

"What do you want, Baela?"

The girl didn't answer for a while and looked at Y/N's face.

Annoyed by the silence, she returned to her book.

Baela glanced around the room.

Her room was not untidy, but there were signs that she had not left it for two weeks. The bed was unmade, and there were plates and glasses in certain parts of the room.

"May I sit?"

She answered without looking up from her book.

"I don't think you want my permission to do anything in this room."

With a sigh, Baela walked to the table and sat in the chair directly opposite her. "I brought you some books."

"Thanks."

She took the books from her and began to read them.

Indeed, Baela knew her very well.

She had brought her the books she couldn't find.

The book was about the conquest and what happened until her grandfather became king. She could see how the painters had painted the faces of the conquerors, even if they were not entirely realistic.

"What exactly happened between you and Aegon?" She might have made a promise to Jace, but he was a man, after all. He wouldn't know how to handle a situation like that.

Y/N felt a little anger at being interrupted from reading the book. "Ask me directly what you want to know, Baela. You don't need to linger."

"I asked you exactly what I wanted to know."

Y/N closed her book and looked at the girl. "He made it very clear that he didn't like me."

"What happened between you two before he said that?"

Y/N thought for a while about what to say. She needed to talk to someone about what had happened. But she didn't want them to think she cared about Aegon.

"After dinner, we went to his room and-" She swallowed before continuing. "And I kissed him. It's nothing important, alright?"

"If it's nothing important, why have you been holed up in your room for the last two weeks?"

Y/N didn't want to look at Baela's face. So she started playing with the rings in her hand. It was a habit she had inherited from her mother.

"I thought he cared about me. I'm so stupid, aren't I? I thought someone I hadn't seen in years cared about me." She smiled bitterly. "What makes me feel even more stupid is that I thought Aegon Targaryen cared about someone other than himself."

Baela reached out and took her hand. "I'm sure he cares about you. Maybe he's scared or doesn't know how to express his feelings."

Y/N looked up and looked her straight in the eye.

"I can't say you're any good at it either." She smiled for the first time in two weeks. But her smile faded again with her thoughts.

"If he cared about me that much, he'd come and talk to me. He could at least try to tell me how he feels. You don't have to fool yourself and me for nothing."

"You're right, Y/N. But this thing between you two-"

"There is nothing between us. I don't want to tire or upset myself thinking about him anymore. If you have nothing else to say, you may leave."

Baela sighed at her stubbornness. "I asked the servants to bring fruit to your room. If you don't mind my presence, we can eat together."

She looked at her friend's face and smiled. "Of course, we can eat together, as long as you don't mention Aegon."

”I won’t.”

"Good. I hope you asked for peaches."

"Peaches and strawberries."

xxx

After finishing their fruit and chatting for about an hour, Baela left Y/N alone with her new books.

Once out in the hallway, she walked quickly toward Aemond's room. He was just on his way out when Baela came to the door of his room.

"Did you talk to her?"

"Yes, I did."

When he heard her answer, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room. He checked to see if anyone was in the hallway and closed the door. "What did she tell you?

"Not much. I think Y/N kissed him, and then Aegon told her he didn't like her."

"That is a situation that is likely to happen."

"They're both so stubborn."

Aemond nodded.

"Why are you so interested in this?"

"Aegon is my brother, and Y/N is my friend. You may think I'm acting out of character, but I care about them."

This time Baela nodded. They both looked at each other's faces in silence. "If you have nothing else to say, I'm leaving. I need to check on Jace."

"Alright, you may go. I will talk to Aegon. This whole thing has gone on longer than it should have."

The two of them hadn't had many conversations before, so they didn't know how to treat each other.

Baela nodded, not finding anything else to say or do, and they left the room together.

xxx

"Aegon!" Aemond shouted as he entered the Prince's chambers.

"Why are you shouting, Aemond?" said Aegon as he buried his head in his pillow. A girl was lying next to him.

Cassandra Baratheon.

She recovered the moment she saw Prince Aemond enter. She looked at Aegon, waiting for him to do something. But Aegon didn't care about anything. He was almost asleep again.

"Leave us please, my Lady," said Aemond.

"Yes, my prince," she said and got out of bed. Inwardly Aemond thanked the gods that she was clothed.

Cassandra Baratheon took her book from the bed and left the room.

"How can you keep behaving like this?"

"How have I been behaving, brother?"

"Perhaps I should stop defending you, Aegon. I can no longer find excuses to cover up your mistakes."

Aegon opened his eyes and sat up in bed. The sheet was down to his waist, exposing his naked torso. "Fine. I never asked you to cover up my mistakes. This whole thing is something you started all by yourself."

"And now I'm to blame for trying to show people that you're not so bad?"

"Exactly. If you had left me alone, everything would have gone as it normally does."

Aemond looked at Aegon in amazement.

He thought of the sacrifices he had made over the years.

He hadn't tried to correct the rumors, but at least he had tried to keep Aegon on good terms with his mother. He had taken a few things upon himself, so she would not be too hard on Aegon. And yet here he was being insulted for trying to help him.

"And what explanation do you have for Lady Cassandra being in your room?"

"I don't have to have an explanation."

Aegon rose from the bed, wearing the same breeches he wore when he rode his dragon. "Were you going dragon riding?"

Aegon reached across his desk for the wine and two glasses. As he filled them, he remembered his night with Y/N and felt sad. He knew he had been unnecessarily mean and uncaring to her, but he had never felt that way before. He had never known what it was to love before, and he didn't know what to do when he suddenly felt too much.

"Yes, and then Alessandra came to my room."

"Her name is Cassandra."

"Whatever it is." Aegon handed one of the glasses to Aemond.

"Aemond, I am no fool. I can understand why you are here. But it is up to you whether you believe me or not. I didn't invite Cassandra to my room."

"Did she suddenly want to come to your room, then?"

Aegon drank all the wine from the glass and set it on the table. "I think Otto sent her. You know how he likes to use sad girls to gain access to princes and kings."

Aemond clenched his jaw.

"She came and started reading to me out of the blue. People's idea of fun has changed a lot these days."

Aemond clutched the wine glass Aegon handed him. His knuckles grew whiter and whiter. Aegon's relaxed demeanor was driving him to the brink of madness.

He put the glass back on the table. "Aegon, aren't you going to explain to Y/N why you treat her like a common whore?" he said through his teeth.

It was no longer about Aegon's treatment of Y/N.

It was Aegon's ridiculous behavior.

As soon as Aemond finished his sentence, Aegon grabbed him by the collar. Aemond refused to let his nerves get the better of him. But Aegon's face was about to turn red with anger. "You love her, don't you? That's why you don't like the way I treat her?"

Aemond grabbed both of Aegon's arms. But he did not push him away.

"You took away everything I loved, everything I wanted. My mother's love belongs to you and you alone. Now Y/N is in love with your stupid grin and your long silver hair."

He tugged at Aemond's collar. "Even the maids in the halls laugh at me now that you let me ruin my name."

"I thought you were happy to have your image ruined."

Aegon smiled bitterly. "I thought so too, but- but I'm trying to get better, don't you see?"

Aegon looked away from his brother. "For her," he said in a low voice.

Aemond pulled Aegon away and sat him on the bed. Aegon kept his eyes on the ground.

He felt himself sinking into a sense of helplessness he had been trying to ignore for two weeks.

"Look at me, brother."

Aegon raised his eyes to Aemond’s face.

He had been in this situation too many times.

His mother usually found him like this when she came to his room to scold him.

"I love her, but not in the way you think."

He took a deep breath. He did not like to express his feelings. "The night I lost my eye, she came to me even though her brother was responsible. She was the only one."

He studied Aegon's expression for a moment. "My mother was in her room trying to figure out how to calm my father's anger at her for losing her temper."

He looked around the room for distractions for a while but found none. "You were drunk in a corner again. I can remember our grandfather could barely find you."

Aegon felt sad and regretful.

"She was the only one with me, comforting me through the night. I thought I would never sleep again, but her fingers in my hair made it easier to fall asleep. "

Aemond looked at his brother, who was already looking at him. "Of course, I'll be there for her when you treat her like a whore. At least that way, I can repay her."

Aegon took a deep breath. "I screwed up again, didn't I?"

"Yes, but you can fix it."

Aegon lay down on the bed again. "How do I do it?"

Aemond took Aegon by the arm and lifted him. "First, you will get dressed. And then you're going to apologize to Y/N."

"You've been helpful," he said mockingly.

"What am I going to wear?"

Aemond looked at him in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm just excited," said Aegon.

Aegon chose some clothes he thought were beautiful. It took him longer than usual to get dressed because he couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

He spent a long time combing his hair and applying expensive oils he liked the smell of on his neck.

As Aegon left the room, Aemond called after him. "She told me she loves you."

xxx

Aegon's heart had been pounding ever since he heard Aemond's words.

Y/N had not only said she loved him, but she had also said it to Aemond.

He ran into the corridor where her room was. He knocked on her door several times, but there was no answer.

"Y/N," he said. But there was still no answer.

When Aegon looked around and saw no one, he opened the door. The room looked empty.

He took a few steps inside, and her scent filled his nose.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent for a while.

Then he walked to the center of the room. Her desk was full. A few history books are on the table.

He saw her nightgown thrown casually on the chair and picked it up. The idea of it hugging her curves excited him again. She could wear that nightgown while lying in bed while reading a book. And Aegon would watch her, fascinated.

He knew that if he stayed in her room longer, he would suffocate from fantasizing about her.

"My prince," someone said. The voice was, unfortunately, not Y/N's.

Aegon threw the gown back on the chair in worry.

Y/N's maid was standing in the bathroom doorway. "I'm looking for Princess Y/N. Do you know where she is?"

The girl put down the bucket in her hand and walked over to the princess's table. "I think she went out into the garden for some air, my prince," she said as she picked up the books on the table.

Aegon nodded and left the room.

He felt like he was reliving everything he had experienced two weeks ago. But this time, it was going to be different.

He was going to be very careful with every word he said.

As he reached the outer door, he realized it was raining outside. He decided to go back inside but stopped when he saw Y/N in the garden. She was wearing a summer dress. The fabric was thin, and she must have been cold.

He walked into the garden. It wasn't raining too much.

Aegon came up to her, but she didn't notice him. She was picking the dead petals off the flowers. It was probably just something she did to take her mind off things.

Some of Y/N's hair was wet and stuck to her. He almost gasped at the sight of her.

"Y/N," he said in a soft voice.

She jumped a little and turned to him. When she saw Aegon, her gaze was soft but instantly hardened.

How dare he come to her?

She wanted to hide behind the trees or run inside, but she wondered what Aegon would say.

And she desperately needed Aegon to make amends for his mistake two weeks ago.

"I do not think you wish to be seen with me, my prince," she said and turned back to the flowers.

"Y/N, please look at me. I want to talk to you."

"I apologize, my prince, but I am busy."

"Y/N, please-"

"What is it?" she said fiercely, turning to him again. "Have you come to insult me again?"

She knew that Aegon was difficult to understand, the most complex person she had ever met. She also knew that his moods were complicated and that he was in a constant state of sadness. But that still didn't justify what he had said in the garden. Y/N wanted him to apologize and explain himself.

"No. I came to apologize."

"I don't want your apology. Go away."

Aegon looked at her in despair. "As your prince, I command you to listen to me," he said. "Please."

If anyone else had heard him say 'please' so much, they would have been shocked and thought something had happened to Aegon.

The girl frowned, thinking Aegon was being arrogant. He came to apologize, and at the same time, he was using his power to order her around. "As you wish, my prince," she said, crossing her arms.

Aegon thought he was sinking deeper and deeper, but it seemed the only way she would listen to him. "I didn't mean anything I said that day. The possibility that you could love me seemed so remote that it seemed like I was in on a joke."

Aegon wanted to reach out and hold her, but he restrained himself. "Y/N, I don't know how to express my love. Even now, I can't think of what to say without making a fool of myself in front of you."

Y/N's gaze softened a little, her arms falling to her sides. "What I said when we were in my room was the truth. You excite me. Just thinking about you makes me feel things I don't want to exist. Because amid all the chaos in my life, I don't know how to control my love for you. I don't know how to protect you from all this chaos."

Aegon reached out and took Y/N's hand. "If you are with me, I can find a solution to everything. I can find ways to make you feel my love."

Y/N squeezed Aegon's hand in hers. She wanted to say nice things to Aegon too. But she was afraid that he might have lied. "You know what they say. If a man wants something, he will say and do anything to get it. I don't believe you."

A sense of panic gripped Aegon. She was right. Aegon did not know how to regain her trust after everything he had said. His clothes were almost completely soaked, and he was cold. The front strands of his hair stuck to his face.

Aegon took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Y/N wanted to give back, but she didn't. It felt good to feel Aegon's warmth through the coat.

"Y/N, I've lived in Aemond's shadow all my life. I'm not trying to justify myself, but when you mentioned him, my blood boiled. I was afraid I'd lose you to him, too."

Y/N wondered what would happen if Aegon was honest. After all the years she had tried to reach him, he was here.

Aegon dropped to both knees.

He took her hand, this time with both hands. "I am trying to change for you. I will be a better man. I will try to be the best husband I can be for you, and I will be."

The thin shirt he was wearing was completely soaked and stuck to him.

Y/N cupped Aegon's face with her free hand. She didn't want to resist. Aegon involuntarily lowered his head into her hand.

"I don't want you to change yourself, Aegon. You are perfect as you are. I love you for who you are."

Y/N grabbed Aegon by the arms and pulled him to his feet.

She wrapped her arms around Aegon's neck. He held her waist tightly.

She had decided to give Aegon a chance, but if he blew it, she would handle it herself, not leave it to Jace. "If you hurt me again, I'll feed you to my dragon," she whispered in his ear.

Aegon smiled. "I wouldn't dream of upsetting you."

Y/N pulled her head back but did not take her arms off his neck. She looked into Aegon's eyes. "You are everything I could have imagined."

Aegon felt his eyes well up. He might even have shed a few tears. But luckily it was raining. Neither Y/N nor Aegon could tell the difference.

Aegon dared not take his gaze from her eyes. It was as if she would disappear if he looked away for a second.

Her presence in his arms was unreal.

"I'm supposed to be saying nice things to you."

"You'd better get used to it."

"I think I can."

Aegon began to caress her waist with his thumbs. "May I kiss you?"

Y/N pulled Aegon to her by the neck. "Please."

Aegon pressed his lips to hers. The rain got heavier. Y/N was having a moment exactly like the books she had read.

Aegon's lips moved to her chin and jawline. He kissed where her neck met her chin. Y/N moaned slightly, and Aegon's grip on her waist tightened.

Y/N almost moaned again at Aegon's grip on her waist.

Aegon kissed her jawline again. Y/N threw her head back to make room for Aegon. Aegon licked a long line from her collarbones to her chin. Y/N felt herself melting in Aegon's arms.

He wrote down in his mind all the points where she had reacted. He would return to them many times later.

All Aegon wanted was to make her feel his love. And from her reaction, he thought he had succeeded.

Y/N stepped back. "Do you want to move to a more private place? I think we've shown the castle folk enough."

Aegon chuckled. "Which of our rooms would you like to move to?"

"Which of our rooms is closer?" Aegon took her hand, and together they walked into the castle.

They smiled as the warm air hit their faces as soon as they entered. They didn't even realize how cold it was outside.

Y/N’s smile froze on her face the moment she saw Jace. Next to him was a grinning Baela and an expressionless Aemond.

Jace was literally about to turn a tomato-like red.

"Brother," Y/N said.

It was clear that Jace was ready for an angry reply.

Aegon squeezed Y/N’s hand reassuringly. Aegon was about to speak when Y/N interrupted. "Jace, we've talked about everything. I love him, and he loves me."

"And you only realized you loved her after you broke her heart and made her suffer for two weeks?" He asked to Aegon.

Aemond looked at his brother briefly. "Jace, I assure you, Aegon was just as bad for two weeks."

Jace laughed nervously. "Was Cassandra Baratheon in this morning part of your brother's sad days, Aemond?" he said, looking directly at Aegon.

Y/N wanted to let go of Aegon's hand, but he wouldn't let her.

"Nothing is as you think."

Y/N felt her heart shatter again.

She was angry but more at herself than at Aegon. How could she have believed him?

Y/N was about to shout at Aegon when she heard Otto Hightower's voice from behind. "I sent her to Prince Aegon's room, and nothing happened between them. Except for today, Prince Aegon was completely alone."

Marrying his grandson to Rhaneyra Targaryen's daughter was a better option for him than marrying him a Baratheon.

Y/N looked at Aegon. He nodded desperately.

Y/N was a little relieved, but they would talk about it later.

"You're not just saying that to back up your grandson, are you, my lord?"

"No. I have witnesses. You can even speak directly to Lady Cassandra, princess."

Y/N felt a sigh of relief. She took Aegon's arm and pulled herself closer to him. "I hope you have a good explanation."

Jace's anger still hadn't subsided. "But-"

"Great news! What season would you like to get married?"

Y/N and Aegon turned at the King's voice.

The Queen, the King, Princess Rhaenyra, Lord Otto, and Prince Daemon stood side by side.

Y/N blushed, thinking they had seen their little interaction in the garden.

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to see my nephew stick his tongue down your throat," Daemon said.

[alder-saan]

Only for those who open their eyes

Brienne of Tarth x fem reader

Warnings : none

angst ? (not much though)

Wordcount : ~1600

You are a painter, and you are searching for models, for beautiful models. Then you see Brienne.

You were in your room, as usual. A paintbrush in your hand, you were looking at your most recent artwork. A month before, you had an idea, a brilliant idea. You wanted to paint beauty. But not the beauty of Margery Tyrell, or Cersei Lannister, who are conventional beauties. No, you wanted to find men and women with an atypical beauty. You wanted to paint the beauty of the damaged fields workers' hands, of the wrinkles on an old lady's face, of the soldiers' scars. That was your idea. And you thought not everyone would like it, but you didn't care. You would. And you were sure really art lovers would too.

The painting you were doing was a portrait of a young boy, with a scar on his cheek. You did the sketch today, in his house. You paid the mother who was not happy that her child was prevented from working that morning, but when she saw the money you could give her, she agreed. So you drew him. He talked about his life while you were doing this. You always loved this part of your job. You loved to hear your models personal stories. Sometimes it was amusing, sometimes it was touching. This time, it was amusing. He told you how he got the scar.

He was seven, and he was walking to the fields when he fell headlong into a bush. Leaves were stuck all over his head. In his hair, mostly, but also on his cheeks. And when he arrived in the fields, his goat (he had named him Eddard because he was a fan of the lord of Winterfell) ran towards him and ate the leaves, biting his cheek. Yes, of course, it hurt, but now the image of his goat biting him to eat leaves made him laugh.

And you came back to the castle, in where you had a room as the new lord's official painter. A big room you furnished with a ton of brushes, pigments each more expensive than the last, paintings bought from fellow painters... You really loved this room. It was a little isolated from the rest of the castle, and so you weren't often disturbed. It was cosy, with a large bed, and big dressers half empty because you were not really into fashion. It was on the top floor, and the floorboards creaked a little when you walked. You liked that sound.

But what you loved most was the view. You had view on the see, and you could see the sun rise every morning. The light was hitting directly the wall through your window and you loved how the shadows appeared.

You put down your brush. You needed a break. You didn't eat at lunchtime, and your stomach began to cry. You went out you room, and walked down the stairs. You might find something in the castle kitchen quarters.

You sneak into the kitchens and snatched a piece of bread. Nobody saw you, they were all focused on what they were doing. Then you went out, wanting to go for a walk in the garden while eating. But when you were in the corridors, you bumped into someone. Armour? Was it a guard? Shit, you were going back form the kitchen, a piece of bread in hand.

"I didn't stole anything !" You said immediately.

"Don't worry I am not a guard" She replied.

You looked up. She was a woman, she was so tall. And she was... Well she was precisely who you were looking for. Blue eyes, blond hair, pale skin, but unusual beauty. And that was what you found beautiful. In your eyes, she was Beauty.

"Perfect"

"I beg you pardon ?"

You cleared your throat.

"Hm, I'm sorry, good afternoon ser... lady ? I am Y/N Y/L, lord's official painter, and I am currently searching for models to draw them. Would you want to... be one of my models?"

"You... You want to draw me?"

"Of course, I'm working on a project, I called it 'Beauty', and I-"

"Very funny, lady Y/L, now if you'd like to stop now the joke, that'd be nice."

Her voice had turned cold. You were confused.

"Why do you think that's a joke? I don't look like a painter?"

"Oh, come on, you know who I am, don't you?"

"I-I am sorry, I don't"

"Brienne of Tarth"

Your eyes widened. Obviously she was Brienne of Tarth. Blond hair, blue eyes, THAT tall... And you knew. Some men were calling her "Brienne the Beauty", to make fun of her. That was why she reacted like that.

"I am sorry, if that sounded like a bad joke but it wasn't. I really find you beautiful. Well you are. Not in an expected way though. Trust me, as a painter, I know what's beautiful"

She was speechless. How could she reply to this? You took her arm.

"What if we talk about it in the garden?" You said.

She nodded. In fact she didn't know how to act. What if you lied to her to make fun of her? But she really wanted to trust you. Did you really found her beautiful? She had to know. She let you led her to the garden.

You sat on a bench, she was sat next to you.

"Do you want to eat? Turns out I may have stole a piece of bread."

She smiled.

"No thank you"

You bit the bread.

"Sho, like I shaid, I am working on a project, I want to paint beauty but not in the usual way. I already drew a sketch of a boy with a scar on his face, and finished a worker's hands"

"Why don't you choose a beautiful lady?"

"First : you are a beautiful lady. Second : I told you I don't want to paint the same people as everyone. I want to make something new! I want to do art!"

"You think I could be a great model?"

"Of course! You'll be perfect!"

She blushed. Were you crazy?

"So, do you want to be my model? I can pay you if you want" You said.

"No, that's okays, I'll do it."

"Thank you, Brienne! Meet me tomorrow morning here, we'll find a good spot. If you want to take your armour or sword, you can, and if you want to dress an other way, that's okay. Whatever you're comfortable with."

"O-Okay"

The next morning, she was there, sitting on the very same bench. She wasn't wearing her armour, but a blue shirt. However, she had her sword. And she was waiting on that bench. You were late. In fact you weren't awake yet. You had spent your whole night painting the boy, and you needed to sleep.

When you woke up, the sun was already high, and you ran to the garden, hoping she would still be there.

But she wasn't. She had leave the place, eyes filled with tears. You had lie to her. She felt so stupid to trust in you. Of course, no one would ever want to draw her. She was a beast. She was ugly. Why did people insisted on reminding her in such a painful way?

You felt so stupid for staying up so late. Now she probably would never want to talk to you again. And worst, she would think you lied to her. You kicked the bench.

"FUCK !"

Your foot hurt, but you didn't care, you had to find her now.

But you couldn't find her. She had left the city, as she planned this the day before. When you asked the lord about it, he told you he sent her on a mission...

And that night, in the dark of the room, you tried to draw her, from your memory.

Brienne of Tarth came back, four month later. You didn't knew that. You were too busy. You had just presented your project in one of the rooms of the castle.

She heard about it. And Podrick, who didn't knzw about the whole story, wanted to see that. He didn't knew anything about art, but Tyrion always told him art was important. So he dragged Brienne in the exhibition, not wondering for a moment why she didn't want to come here.

While Podrick looked closely at each piece (he was trying to understand), Brienne just walked into the room, eyes on the floor. There were few people, mostly noblemen. She sometimes took a look to one of the paintings. She recognized the worker's hands you talked about. She had to admit you were a very good painter. And she began to look more closely to your art work.

"Look, isn't this Brienne of Tarth?"

She sighed. Were they going to make fun of her now?

But when she looked around, there was no one who looked at her.

"Yes, that's her!"

She noticed the two men talking about her. They were in front of a painting she couldn't see from where she was. She came closer and saw the piece.

That was her. You drew her portrait. Brienne was confused. She looked so beautiful on it. She wasn't sure she was exactly like that for real. Then she saw little note next to it.

The only painting I made without a reference. Actually I was late at our meeting and when I came she wasn't there anymore so I had to do this one from my memory. Brienne of Tarth, my model, is exactly the kind of beauty I was searching for. She does not fit the beauty standards, but she carries grace and strength. She embodies the essence of my project. Beautiful, but only for those who open their eyes.

She looked again at the painting.

"I didn't know you were a model" Podrick said.

"Me neither. I just discovered it."

In the evening, you went to the garden for a walk. You were thinking about Brienne. You felt so sorry for her. You walked to the bench you were to join her.

She was there. She was sitting on the bench. You heart warmed up as she waved to you. You sat next to her.

"Good evening, I'm glad you aren't mad at me."

"Well to be honest I was. But I saw the portrait you made of me."

"Oh, really? Did you thought it looked like you?"

"Yes but... I'm not that beautiful"

"You are. And if you don't like it, no worries. I can draw you tomorrow morning. I promise I won't be late."

[melpherno]

Under the Maple Tree

Archmage ! Clarence x reader

Tags: fluff, cuddling; a lot of cuddling, post-Godheim, post-Epilogue.

Word count: 2.1 k !

Ao3 link [🍁]

A/N: this does not end in angst; in fact, it doesn't even have a molecule of angst, trust me. I'm doing the impossible for us delulu Archmage simps because, at this point, "Archmage" and "Angst" have become one lol. Enjoy~

The land of Godheim welcomed autumn again.

This time, instead of walking alone through the maple grooves on the outskirts of Maple Ridge, the little painter was blessed with the company of the Archmage. Hand in hand, they continued towards their unpredicted destination. Usually, Clarence would prefer to make a thoroughly thought-out itinerary before embarking on such a long journey, however, ever since the little painter joined his side – he had allowed her to take him wherever she pleased; a gift to her, after waiting for him for, perhaps, almost an aeon; a pledge to her that he'd always follow her footsteps, and never depart from her ever again.

Throughout the journey, Clarence seemed to be submerged in his never-ending thoughts; forever worrying about his little painter. He still wondered why the little painter had chosen him; out of all of the people she might’ve met travelling across space and time – why him? What did he ever do in his outstretched life that made her love him so ardently, so genuinely, without holding a single grudge against him for all he had done?

The little painter, on the other hand, simply enjoyed the autumn scenery of Godheim. She had rarely seen such beauty in this land, let alone that one time when the Archmage made her witness the variety of seasons here; besides that, this felt special; now that she was truly here – walking through the maple forest, admiring the trees with bright red leaves embellishing them all, and taking in the crunching sound that followed with every step she took that brought an indescribable satisfaction to her ears. The soft afternoon sunlight illuminated the path before them, glinting through the leaves, as they endeavoured forth.

Soon after, the little painter perked up after having caught a glimpse of a river's bank – this could be a perfect time to sit down after trekking nonstop for about three hours. She even wondered how Clarence could even walk without breaking a sweat for this long; he didn't go on walks in the spatiotemporal gap now, did he? The little painter finally turned to look at Clarence, who seemed solemn; a neutral yet detached look on his face, as if he was pondering something.

The little painter finally called out, “Hey, Clarence, I see a river up ahead. Care to take a break?”

Clarence was startled out of his reveries, his eyes widened slightly as his steps came to an abrupt halt upon hearing his saviour's voice, however, his surprise didn't last long as he turned to face her with that same neutral expression once again. “Didn't we just take a break?”

“That was three hours ago!” The little painter argued, her loud voice echoing through the woods, wavering amidst the mildly blowing wind of late autumn. Despite all the time they had passed being separated, the little painter didn't seem to change at all; she still had that fierce spirit and enthusiasm that graced her personality – a stark contrast to the Archmage's usual collected self, almost resembling a stoic sentinel.

Clarence sighed, shaking his head slightly before responding with a strained smile, “Sure. Don't take too long. We need to reach the village before evening.”

Without wasting a moment, the little painter jogged towards the river bank, taking a moment to appreciate the view. It was serene, rather idyllic even, with the gentle blow of wind that made the branches of the maple trees sway, making a few leaves flutter midair as they fell onto the slightly murky water of the river. The little painter felt slightly disappointed, now that she couldn't keep a painting of this scenery without her painting supplies around. However, with the thought of conjuring up painting supplies with magic, she turned to ask for her lover's assistance, only to find him near one of the maple trees – entertaining himself with a flock of birds as they flew down to sit on his shoulders, and one brown bird even rested upon his palm.

These were only a few birds; the little painter recalled the last time they took a stoppage at a quaint village in the northwest. After having a short snack moment upon the little painter’s insistence, Clarence decided to feed the critters some leftover pieces of bread – only to find out that, after a few moments, he was surrounded by the cattle and critters of the entire village. The Archmage, despite his imposing and stoic nature, was favoured by all sorts of animals.

A rather adorable trait, the little painter mused.

She slowly approached the Archmage, trying to eavesdrop on whatever he was mumbling to the little birds. Upon reaching him, she could only make out some of his hushed whispers: “I feel … calm.”

Clarence smiled softly as a bird pecked at his fingers, completely unaware of all the perilous magic his hands could create. He continued in the same gentle tone, “Whenever I'm with her, I feel content; as if I couldn't be happier.” The little painter then noticed his expression become somewhat solemn, his smile dropping ever so slightly. “Though, I'm unsure whether I could ever make myself happy. But, I'm certain, she can.”

The little painter could feel a smile inevitably creeping up her face as she went a few steps closer to the Archmage. “What are you talking about?”

Hearing her voice once again, Clarence visibly flinched, disturbing the birds as they flew away in fear. He turned around, avoided the girl's teasing little stare and replied in a curt tone, “Nothing.”

“Oh, is that so?” The little painter said with a snicker. “I thought I heard you saying something… about me?”

“Well–” Clarence was about to retort, but he stopped to find proper excuses. “...”

The little painter continued to smile even more, now that she had defeated Clarence in this little banter of theirs. She then looked around, trying to find a place to sit down and enjoy the scenery around them. After a few moments, she asked, “Do you want to sit down over there for a moment?”

“I do not wish to be rude, but,” Clarence responded, after regaining his usual indifferent composure, in a flat tone, “that'll only be a waste of time. We need to reach the village before the sun sets.”

“Oh, come on, Clarence. Just five minutes?” The little painter tried her best to persuade the Archmage, even so, she tried to tug at his sleeves – seemed like she still had that childlike innocence she had since the day they departed; thinking about it made the Archmage hesitate with his words slightly.

He thought for words to dissuade the painter with, but, failed miserably as his fondness for her and affinity towards nature beckoned him to give in to the earthly pleasures for once. “Very well.”

The little painter then grabbed his hand, and almost dragged him towards the spot she had chosen and sat down on the grass under one of the maple trees. The Archmage, without finding any other words to object with, made himself sit down beside her. Clarence looked around to notice the view, and as expected, the little painter had chosen the most beautiful perspectives – he should've expected this from an artist like her, who had to find beauty in the rarest places. He noticed how peaceful the forestries on the other side of the river looked, how the sunlight reflected on the streams of water, and how, out of all places – where he felt the most calm at was the places the little painter chose herself.

“You know, Clarence,” the little painter started, shifting closer to the Archmage, her shoulder brushing against his arm, “this moment reminds me of something…”

“Of what, may I ask?” His voice remained soft as he asked, almost like a whisper, only for the little painter to hear.

“Of that dream, you once showed me.” She looked up to face him, noticing how the afternoon light glinted on the monocle resting on his right eye. “An opportunity to experience the different seasons of Godheim.”

He hummed, approving the little painter's comment. “And how do you feel now?”

“Better than ever,” she said, trailing her fingers down his arm to grasp at his hand – oh, what a tease; that simple action made the Archmage look away, a futile attempt to hide the evident blush growing on his face. Thereafter, sensing the Archmage's shyness, the little painter wrapped her other arm around his body to pull him closer; and to that, the little painter felt the man stiffen more than ever. This was, perhaps, for the Archmage, the first time to ever experience her warm embrace. He did hold her within his arms once; in the spatiotemporal gap, before they were destined to depart – but, this time, it felt unique; the embrace now bore a feeling that was unknown to the Archmage – something that he never had experienced before in his long riverbed of life. He welcomed this exceptional feeling that harboured no sense of resentment or melancholy within it. However, he still didn't give into the sensation just yet, and the little painter frowned upon noticing his hesitance.

“Clarence,” the little painter said, “it's all right. You can relax.”

Well, certainly, the Archmage couldn't make himself relax to this newly found feeling, nevertheless, he attempted to lean against the bark of the tree, his hands shivering in the late autumn breeze as he wrapped his arms around the little painter to bring her closer even more. The little painter happily leaned her head against her lover's shoulder, letting out a pleased hum when she closed her eyes. She felt happy; no conflict, no tears falling, no bloodshed – simply the gentle monotony of a peaceful life to accompany the two lovers forward. Perhaps this was the life the little painter traversed through worlds for; and perhaps, to enjoy the simplicity of this moment, the Archmage had to sacrifice himself for. But, they were both content, that at least their sacrifices were not in vain – that fate had finally blessed them with happiness.

Under the maple tree, Clarence held his lover in his arms again, looking down at her resting figure with a gentle smile on his face. He raised a hand and brought it towards the little painter's face, and gently pinched her cheek. The little painter shot open her eyes; of all the possible outcomes from this scenario, she hadn't expected Clarence to pull such a playful and rather childish act on her.

“Clarence,” she said, followed by a soft laugh. “Why'd you do that?”

“There was something on your face,” Clarence replied.

The little painter knew that was a lie. She only smiled, deciding to give him a payback; with a swift move, she grabbed his monocle and brought it to her face, to examine it. However, due to the chain being attached behind Clarence's ear, it only brought him closer to the little painter.

Now, face to face, being mere inches apart from the little painter’s lips, Clarence blushed furiously. The little painter on the other hand, was slightly startled by the result of her mischievous misconduct, but she didn't mind it much – after all, her intentions were to make the Archmage flustered. When Clarence was about to apologise and pull away, uttering some sort of excuse, he was cut off by the little painter pulling him closer; being surprised once again as he felt the little painter's lips being upon his. And then, it felt like the flow of time had stopped, the only thing that ever mattered to him at that moment was her; his beloved saviour – a blessing from the stars. Clarence was no less stiff than a stone then, refusing to move his lips to the rhythm of the little painter’s as she continued to press her lips against the Archmage's chapped ones. The little painter, upon noticing Clarence’s unease, decided to save this man from his misery.

After they broke the kiss, the little painter took the moment to inspect Clarence's reaction: his eyes avoiding hers, cheeks covered with a faint red tint, and breathing heavily – also, she couldn't help noticing how sweet and more humble he seemed compared to his usual stoic self. He smiled faintly once more, sighing before he hid his face within the crook of the little painter's neck, softly nuzzling against her. The little painter, giggling to herself, ran a hand through Clarence's long hair, while the other hand softly rubbed his back – rubbing circles and tracing little hearts upon the fabric of his coat. She then said in a teasing tone, “Clarence, aren't five minutes over yet?”

The little painter felt the Archmage shift a little, letting out an exasperated sigh; seemed like the little painter's plan worked, Clarence was successfully persuaded.

“I hope you wouldn't mind if we were to spend five more minutes like this?” He mumbled against her fabric of clothes.

“Sure,” she responded with a smile. “Perhaps five more minutes won't hurt.”

Therefore, the two lovers remained under the shade of the maple tree, experiencing the warmth of each other’s embraces for what felt like an eternity.