#PLEASE TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS BUT I AM DEEPLY SHY ABOUT THIS

[ofthecaravel]

Lover Of Mine

Chapter 3 of ‘You Don’t Go To Parties’, which is clearly not a oneshot anymore

Part 1  Part 2

Summary: Sam has an odd habit.

Tags: NSFW!! SMUT!! BEWARE!! Masturbation, somnophilia (???? kinda not really, Sam’s having a sexy dream), hair pulling, dirty talk, fellatio (again, not really but technically), sleep talking, general steaminess

Words: 3.4k

A/N: I have never been more grateful that I never have to look any of you in the eye. 

~~~

Danny knew that Sam was a big talker, but not like this.

As much as Sam liked to chatter, it seemed that he did even more of it when he was sleeping. Danny recalled his first sleepover with Sam in middle school where he was woken up in the middle of the night by Sam laughing raucously, muttering something about soccer practice, and then falling silent again, leaving Danny staring up at the ceiling with a confused chill down his spine. It only seemed to ramp up as they got older, with Sam sitting up and having entire conversations by himself in his sleep, many of which were egged on by Danny and the twins. There were entire folders on Danny’s phone full of evidence of this amusing habit, but Sam always scoffed and waved it off as if it wasn’t even him in the videos. 

But these days, Sam and Danny were sleeping in the same bed nearly every night, which meant that Danny had a front row seat to Sam’s sleepy babbling. He didn’t mind the hour or so he lost of sleep throughout the night listening to Sam, feeling more than content to rest his chin in the crook of Sam’s neck and watch his eyelids flutter as he mumbled to the people in his dreams. On the nights that Sam had to work late and couldn’t sleep over, Danny found himself restless in the silence of the night, oftentimes turning on a podcast and burying his face into one of Sam’s shirts in a desperate attempt to replicate the experience that he now couldn’t fall asleep without. Across town, Sam would be having a similar time, pressing his back against a wall of pillows and pretending it was Danny’s firm chest, sorely missing the rise and fall of his breath that always lulled him into a deep, dream filled sleep. 

For the longest time, Sam never shared what he dreamed about. He’d shrug and smile innocently when asked, enjoying the private thrill of getting to replay the events of his dream for the rest of the day. Because the truth was that the dreams that Danny was so invested in hearing about were the ones that had him in a starring role almost every night. Sam couldn’t quite remember when it started, but it had to have been back in high school when he’d woken up from that first dream where Danny had wrapped his hand around Sam’s throat and opened his eyes to a feeling he didn’t even realize he’d been harboring towards his best friend. He had been terrified when Danny had first told him he’d heard him say his name in his sleep, certain that one day he would mutter one of the filthy things he was always whining to the Danny in his dreams, but so far he’d only ever been caught saying out of context snippets that didn’t put him at risk. Considering his track record, it seemed inevitable that Sam would say something a little more incriminating, and he was waiting with bated breath for that day. Or rather, that night. 

-

“Did you set an alarm?”

“Duh,” Sam scoffed, setting his phone on Danny’s nightstand.

“Hey, man, you’re the one who forgot to set an alarm and missed our river rafting field trip,” Danny pointed out, propped up on his elbows while he watched Sam crack his neck and shake his head in annoyance.

“Yeah, one time when we were 14,” Sam muttered. “You need some new material, Wagner.”

“I have, what, 10 years worth of material?” Danny grinned sweetly. “I’ll find something.”

“I hate you,” Sam smiled, craning his neck for a quick kiss. “‘Night. Sorry I have to wake up so early.”

“It’s fine,” Danny assured him as Sam turned the lamp off and pulled Danny’s arm around him. “I have to work at noon anyways.”

“When are you going to give me a private golf lesson?”

“You know I teach children right? It’s the least sexy job in the world.”

“Maybe I just want you to stand behind me and tell me what to do,” Sam teased, backing up further against Danny. Danny laughed and squeezed him closer to his chest, grazing his nose against Sam’s neck to elicit a satisfying shiver.

“You don’t need a golf lesson for me to get behind you,” Danny whispered in his ear, kissing the rosy shell of it and nipping Sam’s earlobe. “I can teach you any ol’ time.”

Sam grinned and reached his hand back to cup the sharp cut of Danny’s jaw, running his fingers over the miniscule stubble as Danny kissed his way up and down Sam’s neck at an agonizingly slow pace.

“You’re killing me,” Sam whispered back, pulling his hand away and tugging the covers closer around them. “Keep this energy for tomorrow night, I’m so sleepy tonight.”

“Fine,” Danny whined goodnaturedly, planting one last kiss on Sam’s cheek and curling around him protectively, wishing there was a way to hold him closer than was physically possible. As he listened to Sam’s breaths even out and his grip on Danny’s hand loosened, Danny drifted off to the thought of all the ways to keep Sam as close as he could. The word “love” drifted around them, but he let it slip away as he himself slipped into unconsciousness.

-

“Danny…”

Danny’s eyes opened ever so slightly, his body and mind weighed down by the peaceful sleep he was still half in. The blankets were tangled between him and Sam, whose head was pressing against Danny’s chin as he fidgeted.

“Mm?” Danny mumbled, unsure whether Sam was awake or not.

Sam giggled in response, the sound muffled in a way that clarified Danny’s suspicions of him being asleep. Danny woke up a little bit more, kissing the crown of Sam’s messy hair and pulling him closer, running his thumb along Sam’s collarbone as he waited for Sam’s next one liner.

“Danny,” Sam repeated, his lips barely moving as his unconscious self animated his sleeping body. “When did…?”

“When did what?” Danny asked quietly. He liked this part of Sam’s sleep talking, when he tried to get as much information as he could out of him so he could try and build some semblance of an idea about what was going on in Sam’s brain. 

“What?” Sam echoed, giggling again. 

“You’re funny,” Danny whispered, his stomach fluttering with adoration as Sam chuckled and then sighed in his sleep. The fluttering picked up when Sam’s soft sigh suddenly turned into a drawn out sigh that hitched at the end with a full body shudder that vibrated against Danny’s chest.

“Yeah…” Sam trailed off, letting out another sigh that morphed into a quiet whine that was over as soon as it started. Danny was more than awake now, laying motionless with his heart racing as Sam arched against him lazily, his backside pressing against Danny’s boxers that were quickly becoming strained.

 “Sam?” Danny asked, his voice barely above a whisper, just to double check that Sam was in fact asleep. This was new, really new, and Danny was surprised at how excited it was getting him.

“There,” Sam said louder, squirming again and letting his arm flop back against Danny’s neck. “There. Yeah. Wh-no. Wow.”

His fingers twisted into Danny’s messy hair and yanked, making Danny yelp in surprise, but not loud enough to wake Sam from his dream. Sam’s grip was ironclad, and Danny panted in sudden, unexpected pleasure as he was forced to look at the ceiling, his member pressed with achingly delicious pressure against Sam as he continued to mutter incoherently and sigh. It was usually Danny with Sam’s hair twisted in his grip, but Danny was surprised at how much he liked the feeling of Sam’s nimble fingers holding him in place, even if he wasn’t awake. His body was alive with want and need, but Sam was sleeping, and he wouldn’t dare do anything without having discussed it prior, so Danny decided to just go along with whatever Sam continued to do.   

Sam finally let go and brought his arm back, letting it dangle over the side of the bed as he seemed to relax, letting out a quiet sigh as Danny tried to catch his breath and calm the adrenaline rushing through him. Danny moved finally, flipping over onto his back with his arm still trapped under Sam’s head, swallowing thickly as he looked down and realized just how hard he was. He closed his eyes and started to distract himself, thinking of a blank white space as he attempted to even his breathing and fall back asleep. However, his attempts were quickly thwarted by Sam squirming again, unconsciously mirroring Danny by turning onto his back and casually stretching his arm out over Danny’s stomach. Danny turned his head to take in the look on Sam’s face, which was a soft puzzle of knitted brows and open lips with a small drop of saliva that shone in the corner of his mouth. He looked so sweet as he settled, but Danny couldn’t help but feel the tension inside him stretch even more as he kept his eyes on Sam’s moonlit profile. Sam’s lips started moving again, gently bobbing open and close, and Danny groaned and shut his eyes again to push down the feelings that imagery stirred inside him. 

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, and Danny groaned again. “Please.”

“Please?” Danny asked, unable to help himself from playing into Sam’s dream scenario. “Please what?”

“Please,” Sam whined in the pitch that made Danny’s head spin. It was pure kryptonite to Danny’s usually firm will, and a sure guarantee during their most intimate moments that Sam would get whatever he wanted. 

“Speak up, pretty boy,” Danny whispered, opening his eyes again to see that Sam was pouting a little. He held back a smile at the sight. He was a brat even in his sleep. 

“Hmm,” Sam huffed, a dramatic sigh escaping him as his hips bucked up against the sheets. “More.”

“More?” Danny mimicked softly.

“More,” Sam asserted, his voice slurred from sleep but still as needy as he was when he begged like this usually. “There.”

“Sam,” Danny choked out, unable to say much else from the lust gripping his throat and body. This was pure torture. He couldn’t touch Sam or even touch himself without feeling weird about it, so he was forced to watch Sam writhe and moan from touches of a version of himself that he was dying to be in that moment.

“H…” The words faded, but rose again with a whine as Sam’s head tipped back into his pillow, his neck arching gracefully. “Harder…”

Danny couldn’t take it anymore. He rolled over onto his front and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, shaking him gently, whispering his name repeatedly like a fervent prayer. Sam jolted and his head jerked forward before falling back again, his eyes snapping open and blinking in confusion as he came to.

“What?” Sam asked anxiously, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, looking around the room before turning to Danny. He read his expression in a second, his panicked confusion calming into a curious wonder. “Danny? What?”

“You were talking,” Danny started, cutting himself off by hooking his hand on the back of Sam’s neck and pulling him down into a relieved kiss, Sam’s lips warm and his sleepy breath heady. “In your sleep.”

Sam pulled back slightly, his face flickering with sudden recognition and his features flooding with instant embarrassment. He looked down at his lap and ran a hand over his face when he saw the tented fabric and small bloom of wet on his underwear, something that had gone unnoticed by Danny but rendered him speechless as Sam groaned in shame.

“Fuck, I was worried about this,” Sam muttered from behind his hands. “What did I say?”

“Lots of things,” Danny answered, moving Sam’s hands from his face and holding them to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “Mostly ‘Please’ and ‘There’ and ‘Danny’...” 

He matched Sam’s cadence and breathiness when repeating his pleas and Sam groaned again, flopping face first into his pillow and letting out a muffled yell.

“I’m mortified,” Sam mumbled. “Please forget you heard any of that.”

“Is that what you dream about?” Danny asked gently, settling onto his side and running his fingers through Sam’s rumpled waves. “Is that why you wouldn’t tell me?”

Sam was silent, letting out a huff and coming up for air by turning away from Danny, facing the dark expanse of his room as Danny let out a soft laugh.

“Hey,” Danny rasped when Sam looked away, causing Sam to obediently but hesitantly meet Danny’s gaze again. “Tell me about your dream.”

“It’s not embarrassing, come on,” Danny insisted, his hand roaming soothingly down over Sam’s shoulders and side, now unable to keep his hands off of him. “It’s kind of…I don’t know. It’s kind of hot.”

Sam was silent again, but let Danny pull him against his chest and turn him onto his back. Sam smiled despite his embarrassment and put a hand over his face again to mask his flushed cheeks, but Danny grasped his wrist and held it down next to Sam’s head. He climbed over Sam and watched in satisfaction as the smile fell from Sam’s lips and was replaced by a wide eyed stare. 

“No,” Sam whispered, a familiar defiance creeping into his tone.

“Sorry?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No,” Sam repeated, drawing out the “o”. 

“Wrong answer,” Danny replied in a sing-song, grinding his hips down into Sam’s, eliciting a gasp from Sam at the friction against his still sensitive erection. “Tell me.”

“We, uh, we-” Sam stuttered as Danny casually reached down and palmed him through his shorts, the wide expanse of his palm sliding up and down slowly. “We were at my old dorm, but my roommate wa-was gone. Fuck, Dan, come on.”

“Keep going,” Danny hissed, gently circling Sam’s tip through the fabric, the sensitivity in his own erection growing by the second. 

“It, well, it was that twin bed, so we kind of had to, you know, squeeze together,” Sam choked out, letting out a quiet cry as Danny added himself to his grip on Sam, their lengths pressed together.

“Like that?” Danny teased, his voice hoarse as Sam thrusted slightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam babbled, nodding enthusiastically. “Well, I mean, you were behind me and, uh, you know.”

“Is that when you started saying something about ‘Harder’?” Danny continued on, nonchalantly freeing Sam’s dick from his shorts and shivering at the relief of skin on skin. 

“Baby,” Sam mumbled, his eyes fluttering close and his mouth falling open in a silent moan as Danny kept his relentless, painfully soft pace. 

“Don’t give me that,” Danny chastised, as if he wasn’t already dangerously close to his own climax. “You don’t get anything until you tell me about the whole dream.”

“I did!” Sam wailed, dragging his nails down Danny’s chest and arching further into his touch. “You’re being mean.”

“Sammy.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Sam drew in a shaking breath and, to Danny’s surprise, opened his eyes and made burning eye contact with him. His pupils were wide and his low lids gave a sultry appearance that made Danny’s heart nearly seize. “We were fucking in my dorm. Hard, th-the way you like when you don’t even let me get all my clothes off. Like this. I was, uh, pulling your hair.”

“I remember that part,” Danny grinned, his hand starting to shake as he unconsciously sped up while recalling the moment. Sam flushed even harder than he already was.

“Don’t tell me I-”

“Yep.”

“Jesus,” Sam laughed, his breath choppy. “Did you…like it?”

“Very much,” Danny answered honestly, moving his hand away and smothering Sam’s immediate complaint in a deep, gasping kiss. Sam’s hands immediately grasped handfuls of Danny’s hair and curled his fingers in at the root, anchoring Danny’s head to his as he took control of the kiss and peppered Danny’s open mouth in fast, desperate kisses and bites. 

“You had my head all pressed into the pillow,” Sam whispered against his mouth, relishing in the sight of Danny’s eyes widening in a near pleading way. “That happens a lot in my dreams. I’ll get the upper hand but never for long.”

“How…” Danny’s voice faltered between kisses, the very real possibility of his impending orgasm coming without a single touch starting to crest. “How long have you been having dreams like this? With me in them?”

“Since I’ve been loving you,” Sam breathed, his face pinching with raw emotion and sincerity as Danny searched in his eyes, his mouth agape as they panted in synchrony. Danny swallowed, his hand leaving its firm grip on Sam’s wrist to smooth the sweat slicked hairs off of Sam’s forehead and admire him for a moment. This was one of his favorite looks on Sam, when all he could do was blink up at Danny like he was the only thing in the whole world he’d ever cared to pay attention to.

“Is that okay?” Sam asked, his voice small and uncharacteristically shy.

“More than okay,” Danny promised, dipping down to give him another sincere kiss that he felt Sam smile into. He kept his lips close to Sam’s as he spoke again. “How did the dream end?”

“I don’t know, you woke me up before the good part,” Sam chuckled, nuzzling his nose against Danny’s.

“What would be the good part?” Danny asked with a wicked grin, making a show of licking his palm and taking Sam’s length back in his hand. Sam opened his mouth to answer but the words died on his tongue as Danny started working his hand on him again, his eyes rolling into his head as he zeroed in on the sensation. 

“Hey, focus,” Danny scolded. “Or is this the good part?”

“Uh-uh huh,” Sam agreed, writhing under Danny as his climax built, signaling a rapid approach. “I’m close, please.”

“I bet it ended with you whining like that,” Danny hummed right in Sam’s ear, drinking in the scent of the remnants of his cologne mingling with the sweat settling on his skin. He chuckled lowly at the sound of Sam’s breathing quickening. “Like a slut. But you’re always so good for me. So sweet, my sweet boy.”

Sam keened high in the back of his throat, noises stuttering past his lips as Danny quickened his pace again and started leaving heavy, spit slick kisses on Sam’s neck. 

“Give it to me,” Danny directed. “Come on, angel, finish that dream.”

Sam did just that, letting loose a stuttering moan as he rode out his climax and painted Danny’s fist and arm with his release. Danny whispered a string of praises into Sam’s ear as he calmed down, his eyes fluttering shut and smiling as Danny pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Good job,” Danny cooed. Sam snorted.

“Shut up,” he murmured, licking his lips and drawing in deep breaths. “Fuck.”

“Good one?” Danny asked as he reached past Sam’s head and grabbed a handful of tissues to clean up.

“Yes,” Sam admitted meekly, watching quietly as Danny wiped off his arm, giving him a small smile. “How are you?”

“Great,” Danny smiled back, tossing the tissues in the trash.

“You could be better,” Sam hummed, sitting and giving Danny a look up and down. “You didn’t get taken care of.”

“Didn’t you say you have to be up early?” Danny joked. He wasn’t saying no, though. He was painfully aware of the situation in his lap and the severe lack of Sam’s touch on it. 

Sam shrugged, not offering a response while he maintained eye contact and slowly started pulling his hair back into a ponytail. 

“I’ll be late then, I guess,” Sam smiled, pushing hard on Danny’s chest and sending him falling backwards with his head nearly hanging off the end of the bed.

“Sam?” Danny laughed, propping himself up on his elbows and feeling his cheeky smile fade as he saw the mischievous look on Sam’s face. Sam’s fingers started curling over the waistband of Danny’s boxers.

“Let me tell you about the other part of my dream,” Sam smiled innocently. 

Danny started to say something witty in response, but found himself suddenly unable to speak when Sam’s head dipped down. He became immediately distracted by the motion of it and suddenly was unable to think of much else for the remainder of the night, his thoughts still hazy after they had been cleaned up yet again and eventually fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

~~

Taglist:  @s0livagant​  @holdingup-fallingsky​ @t00turnttrauma​ @the-starcatcher​ @streamsofstardust​ @spark-my-nature​ @joshkiszkashusband​

[hiitsm]

Embracing New Intimacy

Embracing New Intimacy is for 18+ only.

Fluff & Smut

-

"Mi vida, can you please not do that?" Alexia says as she walks through the door of your shared apartment, closing it quickly behind her.

Her hair is stil damp from the shower she took after her long training session, and she looks absolutely beautiful. Seeing her makes you smile.

"Can't do what?" you ask innocently, continuing to clean the kitchen. It wasn't really necessary, but whenever you have nothing else to do, you clean. It makes you feel useful and helps to ease your mind. Sometimes even you find it a bit strange.

"You are literally only wearing my favorite slip and a t-shirt," your girlfriend says as she walks up to you, gently grabbing your butt.

"How is it your favorite slip when I bought it?" you ask, raising your eyebrows playfully.

"Because I love it on you. It makes me feel certain things, so it's my favorite," she replies softly, her eyes twinkling.

You lean in and kiss her gently on the lips, trying to divert the conversation. She responds, sighing softly, but then pushes you away playfully. "No, what if I brought a teammate here?" she says, her eyes wide.

"Then they saw me like this. I'm not ashamed of my own body, amor. And this is our apartment," you reassure her, hoping to ease her mind.

"But you are mine, and I want to be the only one who sees you like this,' she says, making you smile.

"Whose am I?" you ask innocently.

"Mine," she answers with a soft smile.

You lean in and kiss her again, this time with more passion, feeling the connection deepen between you.

You both get lost in the moment, your girlfriend holding you even tighter as you feel your body surrendering to her.

That's when you remember what you got for the two of you. The thought makes you feel a mix of nervousness and excitement. With a shy smile, you gently pull away.

"I"ve got us a little something. Let me get it," you say, stepping out of her embrace.

"What did you get us?" Alexia asks, her curiosity piqued.

"Close your eyes," you tell her. She does so without hesitation, trusting you completely.

You feel a bit reluctant, aware that this could go either way. It could be wonderful, or it could be less so. You and Alexia had discussed it before, and you knew she was still hesitant. Yet, you also knew that this gesture would show her how much you trust her and how deeply you want this, with her.

You place the box gently in her hand. "Okay, open your eyes," you say. She opens them almost immediately, looking at the box in her hand. Though she remains quiet, you notice a soft smile forming on her lips.

"Just because I've done this with others doesn't mean we have to", she says softly, gesturing to the new strap-on in the box you bought for the two of you.

You and your girlfriend have always been very open about your past relationships, including experiences in the bedroom. While this level of openness might seem strange to some, it has greatly benefited both of you.

You don't have any experience with toys, and whenever you and Alexia discussed it, you would always become a bit shy. You weren't ready then.

But now, you've been ready for a while. You want to give her full control, to place your complete trust in her. However, Alexia has been hesitant, fearing that you might feel pressured into it just because she has done it with others.

"I promise you that I want this. I want to do this with you, together," you say softly, looking deeply into her eyes as you pull her into your embrace.

"Okay," she responds, burying her face in your neck and letting out a nervous giggle. It's a response you always find endearing.

The innocence fades as she kisses your neck softly. You love her gentle touch, it stirs feelings that only she can evoke in you.

Slowly, she trails kisses towards your lips, kissing them softly and slowly, finding the perfect pace to savor every moment. It's arousing, intensely so. You pull her closer, craving to feel every part of her against your body.

However, you can't pull her any closer because your girlfriend has placed the box on the kitchen counter before grabbing you and pulling you onto it.

She gazes into your eyes, her hands resting firmly on your upper thighs, sending a thrill through you. A soft smile graces her lips, causing you to blush ever so slightly.

"I love you," she whispers before kissing you softly once more.

"I love you too," you reply, gently taking her chin and pulling her in for another kiss, Iost in the moment together.

She makes no move to take off her clothes or remove your shirt. Instead, she goes straight to your core.

"This is my favorite slip because it looks beautiful on you,'' she remarks, her eyes lingering on it and noticing the wet spot, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "It looks even more beautiful when it's wet,'' she adds, trying to sound smug, but both of you end up chuckling.

"It's true," she continues after a moment, a blush forming on her cheeks as her thumbs lightly stroke the damp spot, causing you to squirm with anticipation.

She pulls the slip down slightly, then slides her tongue through your folds. Both of you moan softly in pleasure as she plays with your clit, circling it with gentle motions. You gently grab her hair, she always makes you feel so good, every time.

Before you can reach the edge, she pulls away, kissing your lips softly before lifting you off the counter. Your legs find her waist effortlessly as she grabs the box and leads both of you towards your shared bedroom.

She sits you down gently on the bed and helps you pull your shirt off. Your bare breasts capture her attention, and she softly sucks on each nipple, causing you to squirm and chuckle with delight.

You gently pull her away and assist her in undressing before grabbing the box and preparing everything.

"Okay,'' you say, having lined everything up on the bed.

"Okay," she replies softly, kissing you on the lips before grabbing the harness and putting it on.

You notice a hint of nervousness in her movements, and when you meet her gaze, you see a blush spreading across both of her cheeks.

You gently take her hand in yours. "You don't have to be nervous," you assure her softly.

"I am a little because I'm doing this with you," she admits, glancing away slightly in embarrassment.

"We're doing this together," you say firmly, cupping her face and kissing her on the lips. "Sí, amor," she responds, pulling the harness on completely, and you both chuckle nervously.

She lays you down on your back and hovers over you. Both of you glance down at the strap, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement for what's to come. When your eyes meet again, you both blush at the intense, soft looks on each other's faces.

"I am a little nervous because you are the love of my life, and you are making me feel things that I've never felt before," she says, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "You are perfect for me. I don't want to hurt you,' she admits softly.

You smile at her and kiss her gently. "I appreciate that, mi vida. You are perfect for me too. I want to do this with you, together. You won't hurt me, and if you do, then I will tell you, just like how you would tell me," you reassure her softly.

She smiles back at you, her beautiful eyes reflecting her gratitude and affection.

You both take another moment to fully immerse yourselves in this new experience together. "I love you," she says, her smile radiant and warm.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your head up to meet her lips and kissing her deeply. The kiss starts softly but quickly deepens in intensity.

Alexia aligns the strap-on with your core, her touch gentle and precise.

She is so gentle, so perfect.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asks softly, whispering in your ear as she enters you gently.

"Yes, you manage to say, but your breathing betrays your true feelings, causing Alexia to pause.

"Tell me when I can continue,'' she says, kissing you tenderly and not stopping until you feel better.

After a moment, the initial stinging sensation fades, replaced bya sensation of pleasure that feels almost overwhelming.

"Please continue", you manage to say in between kisses, and she does, resuming with a soft and steady pace.

Alexia rocks her hips back and forth, the strap-on giving her an incredible sensation on her clit. She allows herself to fully experience every sensation, to surrender herself to you completely, and you reciprocate in kind.

Soon, the two of you are lost in a symphony of moans and pleasure, completely immersed in the intensity of the moment.

"You look so beautiful like this, amor" she tells you, her words intensifying the sensations between your legs.

"You're taking me so well," she whispers teasingly in your ear, making you chuckle softly.

"It's okay if you're feeling close, because feel the same way" she adds, her voice filled with warmth and desire.

You can feel her smiling against your neck, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

As you both continue, the intensity builds, each movement and touch deepening your connection. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, echoing the love and trust you share.

You find yourselves reaching the peak together, bodies and hearts entwined in ecstasy. Afterwards, you hold each other close, basking in the afterglow of your shared experience.

"I love you," she whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"I love you too,'' you reply softly, tracing patterns on her skin.

Together, you've embraced vulnerability, trust, and love in its most profound expression.

-

This might have some grammar errors because I haven't proof read it well.

🙂‍↕️

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

*** 

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago. 

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.” 

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?” 

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?” 

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?” 

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Studious V (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

Aemond reads your notes, and you both finally come clean. After he introduces you to his best friend, you invite him back to your chambers.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: OOH BOY ITS TIME! We got tiddy suckin', we got fingering (f receiving), we got oral sex (f receiving), and we got p in v sex (finally), and of course, Aegon!

Author's Note: Bone apple teeth, y'all

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here - Read Part VI Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious V

Only a few minutes later, you sat across from Aemond at the small dining table in his chambers – obviously only ever intended for one. He had to drag one of the chairs by the hearth across the room just so you could sit with him. For he had insisted you stay while he read your notes, assuring you that it would not take long.

“I read very quickly,” he explained. “I have to, if I hope to read everything I want to.”

Now, you sat silently across from him as you watched him read. He held your diary in his right hand while his left held open his own where it rested on the table. While reading, he would often look between the two, cross-referencing what you had written about with his original entries.

It was quite amusing, being able to watch his reactions. Subdued as they were, you still caught him, on various occasions, both smiling and frowning. He even blushed once! You smiled as you recalled him doing the same to you – watching your face as you read in the library. Perhaps you were more similar than you had once thought.

For a long while, Aemond said nothing. He hardly even looked at you – only glancing up a few times and shying away when he noticed you looking back.

Until once, he did not look away. Though he did blush quite deeply.

“I apologise,” he whispered, “I did not realise how… detailed I was in some instances. You should not have had to read such depravity. Please, forgive me.”

So, he reached the library entry. And you had not written anything in response – a stark difference from every other entry. It was no wonder that he thought you offended. But you were most certainly not offended, and you had heard enough apologies from him to last you the rest of your lifetimes.

You reached across the table – hardly difficult, as it was so small – and brushed your fingers against his. The urge to fully take his hand was strong, but you did not want to push too far before the two of you had settled everything.

“There is no need to apologise,” you said, your first words since you gave him the diaries. “It is perfectly natural for a man to… think about his wife in such a way. Didn’t Septon Eustace tell you that so long as we were married, lust is not a sin?”

Aemond smiled a little at that, but his brow was still furrowed in concern, as if he did not believe you entirely.

“I actually –” you began, laughing a little as you spoke to relieve the tension. “I actually found it quite… interesting.”

“Oh!” Aemond’s mouth fell open, and his eye widened in the same expression that had once made you think he looked like a freshly caught fish. This time was perhaps even more satisfying than the first, as a flush quickly spread across his face and climbed all the way to his ears, until he was as red as his family crest.

“I… um, I am glad,” Aemond’s statement sounded curiously more like a question as his eye darted from you to the table to the diaries. “I thought that… I suppose… I was just… I still – I am still sorry.”

And with that, he turned back to diaries.

-

Judging by the position of the sun – which you were never very good at, so your estimations were far from precise – it took less than an hour for Aemond to finish reading. You had passed nearly all the time by surveying his rooms.

His rooms were immaculate, which was no surprise. Everything spotless and precisely arranged. Each tapestry, of which there were few, was hung perfectly. The vases on a table near the hearth were spaced so evenly that you could not imagine how it could have been without a measuring stick. And the books on the many bookshelves were well organised.

But as well as it was kept, it did not feel like Aemond. The tapestries were finely made, but the subjects – one hunting scene, one depiction of the Red Keep, one of the Seven, and one of a dragon that did not look like any of the ones you had heard described – were very standard. The vases were well crafted, but they, too, were plain. Two in varying shades of brown, one brass, and one in a simple pattern of brass and black. Even the bookshelves seemed impersonal. They were filled to the brim with leather and linen tomes, each as pristine as they must have been when they were first bound.

There were no little trinkets, personal items, or anything else that would identify Aemond as the occupant. If not for its position at the heart of the Holdfast or the fact that you could see Aemond’s sword and dagger leaning against a wardrobe in what must be the bedroom, you would think these were guest quarters.

How was he content with living in such an impersonal space?

You had filled the walls of your rooms until you could hardly see the stone, cluttered your tables with crafting supplies and reminders of your home and family, and stuffed so many of the small items you had collected over your lifetime in your shelves that there was hardly room for books. And while Aemond had been fascinated by the decoration within your rooms, he had still chosen not to make his own a home.

Perhaps you could help him fix that.

But before you could start considering how to do so, you looked back to him and immediately became mesmerised. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his eye snapping between the two diaries with dizzying speed, and his lips slightly pursed. It almost seemed as though he was studying rather than simply reading.

He cared about this – very much so. He was almost… desperate.

Did he still think you would ask to be separated from him? After you had read his diary, as he asked? After you returned to him and offered your own? After you had assured him you were not repulsed by what he had written?

Had you really been so cold to him that he could still believe you would run away?

A chill settled over you at the possibility. Perhaps several days ago, you may have accepted his offer to return to your home. Now, the thought of leaving him made you almost nauseous, though you were not entirely sure why. You wrapped your arms around yourself and cast your gaze down to the table surface.

“I’ve finished,” Aemond said merely a moment later. You looked up to see him setting your diary down next to his, then turning the pages of each back to the beginning of your shared story.

You sat up straighter in your chair, first placing your clasped hands on the table, then in your lap, then unclasping them so you could bunch the skirts of your dress in your hands – both to try and calm your nerves and soak up the moisture that had begun to form the moment Aemond spoke again. After you gave him a short nod, he began.

He laid his clasped hands atop the diaries, then separated them to grip the edges of the table on either side of the journals, then finally deciding to keep one hand on his diary while the other picked up his quill pen, which he began to fiddle with restlessly.

“I, um… I should like to start by thanking you for reading this,” he said, his voice less sure than you were used to. He did not meet your gaze, instead looking straight down at the books before him. “And I wish to apologise – again. First, for being so incompetent that this was the only way I could express my feelings, and secondly, for the admittedly humiliating things you read.”

“Aemond,” you interrupted before he could continue. When he looked at you in near panic, you scoffed and shook your head slightly. “If you apologise to me again, I might scream.”

He looked shocked by your words, then nodded gravely. “I did not realise how often I was doing so. I ap… shit, no.” He shut his eye and heaved a great sigh. “I will endeavour to do so less in the future, though I cannot promise I will not have to, on occasion.” The corner of his mouth quirked in the shadow of a smile as he winced slightly. “We both know how often I have cause to.”

“That is acceptable,” you whispered, “thank you.”

Both of you smiled at each other, your gazes locked. The moment lingering a bit longer than it would have with a stranger or even a friend. Then Aemond turned back to the diaries and frowned.

“I don’t quite know…” he trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “Forgive me, but my first reply to your notes was to be an apology for the careless and mean-spirited remarks I made about the merits of embroidery. I don’t know what to say if I am forbidden to apologise.”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. Yet it pleased you greatly that he was taking your request that he stop apologising so seriously.

Aemond did not wait for you to give him an answer, speaking with both urgency and sincerity. “It was thoughtless of me to write what I did. I was exhausted by the day and unhappy with how my grandsire chose to conduct my betrothal and marriage. And admittedly, I know little about the craft, and therefore underestimated it.”

“I am touched by your words,” you whispered, flustered by the intensity with which he regarded you, as if whatever you said next held the power to either destroy him or build him higher. “Perhaps, instead of apologising, you could tell me how you intend to make amends?”

“Of course,” his face lit up when he realised you were not upset with him. “I… I will learn more about embroidery so that I may truly appreciate it. Could… would you be willing to teach me?”

Based on the moment of panic that you saw come over him, you knew your shock at the request was rather poorly concealed. Bashfully, Aemond looked away. “After seeing the beautiful things that you have created – or I assume you have, as they were in your rooms, and depicted your home and interests – I truly wish to understand how they are made.”

Gods, he was serious. He truly wanted you to teach him how to create embroidery! The very idea was so amusing you could not hide your smile. “That is a wonderful solution, Aemond,” you said with all the reassurance you could muster. “I look forward to seeing what beautiful things you will make.”

“Oh, I am certain that compared to you… I mean, your own works, my attempts will seem quite poor. Laughable, even.”

“Well, I have had many years of practice,” you replied, “and a true love of the craft. It gives me an advantage over you. Although having seen you fight, I believe you have great potential as an embroiderer.”

Aemond’s head tilted slightly. “I don’t understand how the two skills correlate.”

“You fight with precision,” you explained, feeling yourself flush at the memory of him in the training yard. “Your movements are controlled and exact. The same skills are required in embroidery.”

“Then perhaps learning embroidery will further improve my fighting skills,” he said, almost jokingly. But any hint of a smile faded quickly, and he ducked his head, looking up at you as he continued. “I… I would like it if you could continue to come and watch me. When I practice. Not every day if you don’t want to, but every few days? Only if it would interest you, of course.”

“It would interest me very much!” you said, probably too quickly. But you had thought about Aemond wielding his sword so many times in the days since you actually saw him, and you were eager to see it again – and more of it. Up close, preferably.

He blushed again, though he reined it in much faster this time and resumed his cool, almost bureaucratic demeanour. “As for your list of books – some I have read, some I have heard of, and others I know nothing about. I would like to sit down with you and discuss them all. We could do that now, if you’d like?”

“I appreciate the thought, but today, I think we have more important things to discuss?” Indeed, you hadn’t anticipated this much discussion. You hadn’t even thought he would want you to remain with him while he read. But here you sat, not in your own rooms, in a carriage on your way home, or – as you had half-hoped for – in a bed.

Every moment you spent with Aemond was another agonising moment you spent not knowing what would happen between you. You were so eager for an answer – a conclusion.

But it was only fair that Aemond be allowed to respond to your comments and questions, so you bit your lip and prepared for more. After all, your husband was quite thorough. That much was clear from his research.

“Indeed we do,” he said as he flipped over a page of his diary. “I would be more than happy to take you to the Grand Sept. The family attend service there instead of the Royal Sept at least once per moon turn, but we can certainly go sooner if you prefer. It wouldn’t have to be for a service. We could just… go.”

“Choose a day,” you said, “and I will be with you.”

“I can’t wait for you to see it,” Aemond said with a smile. “It is truly…”

“Grand?” you offered.

“Yes, it has been named well,” his smile grew wider. “I am beginning to think that I, too, need to create a list of all the times you’ve made me laugh.”

You cocked your head, perplexed. “But… you didn’t laugh.”

“Oh, um…” Aemond looked away and grimaced, tapping his pen against his diary several times. “I don’t, often, laugh. Not aloud, at least.” After a deep inhale, he faced you again. “I assure you though, I felt like laughing! But I will try to do so in future, so it will be easier to know when I am amused.”

“No, Aemond,” you chided softly. “I don’t want you to change yourself for me. Now that I know what you look like when you ‘feel like laughing,” I will be able to recognise it. And, based on how extensive my list was, I believe I will laugh aloud enough for the both of us.”

He flipped to the page where you had made your list – throughout reading his diary, you would often return and add onto it, until it took up most of the page. He stared at it for a long moment, running his fingers over the words as if he could feel them. “I am immensely glad to have made you laugh, for there is nothing I desire more than to see you happy.”

Heat spread over every inch of your skin as you flushed, both from his words and what you were about to say. “There is ‘nothing you desire more?’” You bit your lip as you pointed to his diary. “Some of your later entries suggest otherwise.”

Aemond’s flush quickly grew to match your own. “I… there are things I desire nearly as much, but your happiness remains the greatest of them all.”

You both stayed there for a long moment, blushing and smiling at each other. All the while, you willed your racing heart to calm and your burning skin to cool. But beneath Aemond’s gaze, there was no hope for either. He looked at you with not only a lustful hunger but with admiration, longing, and a kind of reverence that made you at once bashful and confident.

If you stayed that way for much longer, you felt as though you would combust.

“I believe you skipped ahead a few entries,” you said. Even the whisper sounded like a shout in the silence that had descended upon you.

“Indeed I have,” he half-laughed, returning the diary to where he had left off. “My ap… I will begin again in the proper place. Please, inform me if I stray again?”

“I will,” you assured, nearly laughing yourself.

His eye lingered on you for a moment before he actually began again. “I wish I had danced with you all night,” he said, his smile fading as he looked at your next note morosely. “It had been my plan, actually. But as you read, I feared that if I remained so close to you, looking as radiant as you did, I would have done something untoward and inappropriate. Worse, I feared doing something you would not want.”

He would not meet your eye, but still, you spoke. “I admit, had you started ravishing me on the dancefloor, I likely would have reacted poorly,” you said with sombre humour. Aemond didn’t acknowledge it. “But I wanted to dance with you, talk to you. To begin to understand the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life.”

Aemond pursed his lips, his lone eye blinking furiously.

“If you had kissed me then,” you continued, though you doubted it was a good idea, “I would have welcomed it.”

You swore you saw a flash of tears in his eye before hanging his head so low his face was hidden. “I swear to you that, from this moment on, I will dance with you whenever you want,” Aemond whispered, his voice low and crackling with emotion, “wherever we are, and whether we have music to accompany us or simply the rhythm of our own hearts.”

He raised his head to face you, his eye flicking back to the diary once before again fixing on you. “I also swear that you will never again fall asleep without my first wishing you goodnight. Even if we are parted and far from each other, I shall wish it upon the wind and pray that it carries my words to you.”

The vows settled on your heart with more weight and meaning than those he had sworn to you in the Sept. For these were not of words written by a Septon long ago and repeated by countless men and women in their own marriages. These vows were not shared – they were only for you.

It would only be proper for you to swear your own vows in return, but you did not know what to swear. Despite having read his diary, you did not know him so well as he knew you. Guilt threatened to overwhelm you, and you could only say a quiet thanks before signalling for him to continue.

You were silent for a while, offering only small smiles and nods as Aemond promised to not damage his finely made diary any further, told you that your wedding presents were being catalogued in the Royal Vault and would be returned to you soon, and that he had confirmed with Lord Jasper that Coryanne Wylde – his ancestor – was indeed the author of ‘A Caution for Young Girls.”

With each of his explanations, you only gave him half your focus, as the other half was occupied trying to figure out what you could swear to him. Perhaps that you would only ever wear nightclothes he found attractive?

For a moment, you were sure he could read your mind, as the moment after the thought came to you, he turned a page and began, “Your robe – ”

“What about it?” you asked, louder and more defensively than you originally intended.

Aemond stared at you, shocked by the sudden outburst. “I was going to say that I do not, in fact, hate it, I swear.”

“Oh,” you said, sinking slightly into your chair as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“It is a very fine robe, well made and quite beautiful,” he continued, graciously ignoring your current state. “It just… it is so large that I feel as though you are hiding, and I don’t ever want you to hide from me. Or even feel like you must. I never meant to offend something you hold so dear.”

“Oh,” you said again. After correcting your posture to something decidedly more ladylike, you took a deep breath and gave an explanation of your own. “I wasn’t hiding, I promise. But that robe is one of the few things that makes me feel…” you struggled to find the right word. “Safe.”

Aemond’s face blanched, and while his eye hardened, his brow raised in concern. “The Red Keep – and the Holdfast especially – is the safest place in the realm, perhaps the world. No harm will come to you, I swear. I will – ”

You held up a hand to stop him, and despite his furore, he quieted at your command. “That’s not what I mean by ‘safe,’ Aemond.”

“Then I am afraid I don’t understand.”

With a sigh, you looked up at the ceiling, searching for a way to explain the complex feeling. “I don’t mean ‘safe’ in a physical way. I don’t fear that I will be harmed or killed. I mean safe in a… in my heart. Perhaps my soul too.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, but he said nothing, so you continued. “Since my family has left, I have felt very alone – painfully so. I hardly know anyone here, nor do they know me.” At that, your husband seemed ready to protest, but you did not let him. “From reading your diary, I do believe you know me. Better than I would have ever thought in the short time we have known each other. But even then, I have seen you so little, and spoken to you even less.”

He nodded, “Another failing I must atone for.”

“Well, I suppose I could have approached you myself. But after our wedding night…” Aemond flinched at the reminder but remained silent. “I was confused. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t quite that. And I know some of it is my fault! Please don’t blame yourself entirely. Still, you never spoke to me, not at court or at dinners. You never asked to see me or even escort me back to my rooms after dinner. I thought I had disappointed you, but I could not summon the courage to ask you how.”

“I never meant to abandon you,” Aemond murmured, “I just didn’t want to frighten you further. I was trying to – ”

“I know,” you smiled, inclining your head toward the diaries. “I understand now. But my understanding does not mean that I do not wish we had both made different choices.”

“As you said in your apology,” he said, almost to himself. Silence fell over you as he turned the page and traced his finger over your words again. “The robe is your reminder of home, where you are safe and loved, not scared and dreading the life ahead of you.”

“Yes.”

“And in my idiocy, I took that from you.”

“It was a shared idiocy,” you mused, grateful when Aemond’s tense shoulders dropped at your forgiving tone. “You were very kind to me that day, and yet I took the first opportunity to assume the worst of you.”

“I am afraid I gave you ample cause to assume the worst of me.”

“Maybe so, but I won’t do it anymore,” you felt meek saying the words, like a child promising their parents to stop misbehaving.

But then Aemond smiled, his cheeks tinged with colour again, and under his warm gaze, you felt… safe. “And I will not give you any more cause to.”

You smiled back, holding a girlish giggle, the origin of which was unknown to you.

“That reminds me,” Aemond said with a wicked grin. He tapped your open diary once, twice. “I like it when you scrunch your nose because of the delicious contradiction. Such an unpleasant expression upon the loveliest of faces.”

You pouted, then immediately realised your mistake when his grin grew wider and moved to cover your now-scrunched nose with your hands. Aemond only laughed at your embarrassment. “I cannot decide whether that is a compliment or not,” you said, causing another round of laughter.

“I assure you, it is meant entirely as a compliment,” he assured, still coming down from his amusement. He took a deep breath and then went still. “None could ever insult your appearance, for they could find no faults. And if they did… I would assure they were properly punished.”

Your flush was so great you could feel its heat when you dropped your head into your hands. “I suppose I should ask, how fares the painter who made my miniature?”

Another grin, this one positively lupine. “He has not been harmed, but I doubt he will ever again be commissioned by the noble families. If he does not flee across the Narrow Sea, he will be fortunate to find any amongst the smallfolk who can pay him more than a silver piece for his work..”

Such a severe punishment, just for a painting that had not shown your beauty? You didn’t know whether to be horrified or flattered. Or impressed that he held such influence. Judging by the fluttering feeling that filled your chest, you knew you were flattered more than anything. And the look on Aemond’s face, a look of pure confidence and power, stirred such powerful desire within you that you had to grip the arms of your chair to stop yourself from planting yourself on his lap – precisely as he had written about.

Your hands remained clutched to the chair as Aemond told you that he would be more than happy to study Valyrian history with you, and that he did not pick all the dog roses from the garden, for those he left were promptly collected by the Maesters. He expressed his desire to visit your home, but with the caveat that you would protect him from your brothers. And he assured you that he would not take a vow of silence so that you could hear his voice whenever you wanted.

Finally, he came to your last reply.

He read it again, silently, and slower than you would have liked. Then, he faced you but kept his eye focused on the wall past your shoulder. “I do not know if this is correct,” he said, almost bashfully. “But, I find myself… glad? That you missed me. That you worried for me. I did not know you cared for me that much, or that you cared for me at all.”

“Honestly? Neither did I. Not until that night.” You reached across the table – a short distance which yet felt like the length of the world – and took Aemond’s hand. He gasped, and his hand twitched, but then he sighed in relief. It was almost like the sound he had made when he released his seed within you. The very thought of it made you tighten your grip. “But I do care about you, Aemond... husband.”

To what extent you did not know. But you were very close to finding out.

-

You did not know how long you stayed there, holding hands and saying nothing. Minutes, perhaps. Or hours. In either case, the sun was still up when Aemond suddenly dropped your hand and stood.

“There is… there is something else I should show you,” he said, stumbling over his words as he had the first few times he actually spoke to you. “If you truly want to know me.”

Though you felt a tinge of apprehension at his vague words and that you could not imagine what else there was for him to show you after giving you his diary. Still, you nodded. “I do – want to know you.”

He stood, his back rigid as he extended a hand toward you. “Come, I will call a wheelhouse to take us.”

“A wheelhouse? Where are we going?”

“To the edge of the Kingswood.” At the look of confusion on your face, he clarified, “It is where Vhagar resides.”

“Vhagar? Your dragon?” You took his hand and let him pull you up, your shock at his request momentarily replaced by the strength you felt in the motion – the same strength that had enraptured you in the training yard.

“Well, she is not my dragon,” he clarified. “It doesn’t work like that. There is no ownership one way or the other. It’s more like… a partnership. I am her rider, and she is my mount.”

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts as Aemond began to lead you – still holding your hand – out of his rooms. He whispered briefly to the first guard you saw, who immediately ran toward the stables. When you were alone, he turned to you. “It… might be cool. Would you like to fetch a cloak from your rooms?”

You did, and you didn’t. While you didn’t want to endure the cold, you couldn’t help but think about what would happen if you felt cold and didn’t have a cloak. Would Aemond offer you his or perhaps invite you to share his?

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “I would like that.”

He smiled and led you back to your rooms. So far from his own, yet with him leading you, the distance seemed to pass far faster than when you ran to him earlier that day.

Aemond stopped when you came to your door, lingering for a moment. “Would you… should I come in?” He turned to you with pleading eyes that you could tell he was trying to conceal. “I can remain outside if you wish it.”

He moved to drop your hand, but you held firm. “I would like you to come inside,” you said. “You know better than I what I will need, so I should like your assistance in selecting a cloak.”

Aemond gave you his fish look again, utterly dumbfounded. As if going into your dressing room was somehow more intimate than him fucking you. Fortunately, he regained his composure quickly and bowed his head. “Of course, whatever you wish.”

He opened the door and allowed you to lead him inside, past the couch where he had given you flowers, past the bedchamber where you had lain together, and into your dressing room. When you turned back to him, he was looking around as if he were just led into a room full of grand tapestries and works of art rather than clothes and shoes.

“What is it, Aemond?” you asked, suddenly worried that he may have seen something that offended him.

“It is just…” he laughed lightly before looking back to you, “I didn’t think anyone could actually fill their dressing room – especially not one this large.”

Though he smiled, you were yet filled with worry. “I promise I am not vain!” you pled, holding his hand to your chest. “My mother believes that a lady should always… and since I was to marry a prince, she – ”

You were silenced when Aemond pressed a kiss to your joined hands. “You have married a prince, and he does not think you vain, I swear. Actually, he is rather excited to see how beautiful you look in each and every item here.”

For a moment, you strongly considered leading him into the bedroom and leaving Vhagar for another day. But you had other plans for how you wanted that reunion to go. So, you reluctantly dropped his hand and pointed to the room’s far corner. “The cloaks are over there.”

Being a royal bride and one of only two daughters of a wealthy house meant that your trousseau was extraordinary. As such, you had more than a dozen cloaks, at least one for every colour of the rainbow.

Aemond went first to a black cloak – your warmest. While its wool was sparsely decorated, it was lined with the exquisite striped fur of a shadowcat. But after running his fingers once through the fur, Aemond pushed it aside.

He went next to a red cloak, intricately embroidered with gold and black dragonscale patterns (although the designs were somewhat abstract). It had been specially made when the match was announced, to honour the colours and sigil of your new house. But it, too, was rejected.

The green cloak – the one of dark emerald, not the light sage – was considered as well, longer than the other two. It was made from rich velvet and decorated with pearls. But Aemond let it behind, as well.

After quickly sorting through the next seven, he, at last, stopped to examine another. This one was made from a gentle pink jacquard, the pattern difficult to spot from a distance but absolutely lovely when near. The inside was lined with a light layer of undyed wool, and the edges with a thin strip of sable fur.

It was your favourite.

And it was the one Aemond chose.

“Wear this one,” he whispered as he brought it to you, holding it as though it was the most precious thing he’d ever held. “It suits you… very well.”

The flush on his cheeks gave you a rush of confidence, enough that you lifted your hair and turned around. Looking at Aemond over your shoulder, you dropped your eyes to the floor in a show of shyness. “Will you put it on me?”

Aemond’s gaze never left the skin of your exposed neck as he approached and laid the cloak over you with the gentlest whisper of a touch. He was close enough that you could hear his breathing quicken and feel the heat roiling off him. After the excessive amount of time he spent assuring that the cloak fell correctly, he finally stepped in front of you to fasten the front.

He tried, so very hard, to not look at your face as he did. But you caught every time his eye looked up at you – your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

Kiss me, you willed silently, not yet brave enough to ask for it aloud.

The wish went unfulfilled. Once he had fastened the twin brooches of your cloak, Aemond smoothed it over once more, then offered you his hand. “The wheelhouse will be waiting for us,” he said.

You took his hand and let him lead you away.

-

The journey to the edge of the Kingswood passed quickly, the time filled with idle conversation about the city as you raced past it. You had questions about every statue, alleyway, and building; for the most part, Aemond had answers. The city’s history was inexorably tied to House Targaryen, and so he had taken it upon himself to learn everything there was to know about it.

It was enough to soothe your fears about meeting the largest dragon in the world. Until that is, you passed through the city gates, and the Kingswood appeared on the horizon.

“Why does Vhagar live in the forest?” you asked, peering through the curtains of the wheelhouse. “Why does she not live in the Dragonpit with the others?”

Aemond raised his brows proudly, “She has grown so large that she can no longer fit in the Dragonpit.”

The very idea was at once awesome and terrifying. You had seen the Dragonpit in the distance from your windows at the Red Keep and some dragons flying around it. That Vhagar could not even fit inside…

“So Maegor did not build it large enough? Even when he rode Balerion?”

“Well,” Aemond shrugged. “She could fit in the Dragonpit if it was necessary. But it would not be comfortable. It would stifle her. I do not want that.”

Just as he did not want you to be alone and trapped in the castle – enough that he would set you free of it if you asked. “You care for her very much, then?”

“I do, yes,” he answered, his eyes becoming contemplative while his lips still curled in a smile. “She is… I have told you that the relationship between dragon and rider is like a partnership, yes?”

“You have, yes.”

“It means that there must be understanding between the pair,” he explained. “Common ground, or even a shared soul. I know it may seem illogical or insane, but Vhagar understands me. She cannot speak it, but I know that she does. For most of my life, it has felt like she is the only one…” he trailed off as his eye came to rest once more upon you.

Until you, you could hear the words as well as if he had shouted them. Rather than a pit of fear, it created a warmth within you. Aemond understood you, and you were beginning to feel as if you understood him as well.

“Then I very much look forward to meeting her,” you replied. It was the truth, though you still possessed a healthy tinge of fear at meeting a dragon said to be now larger than Balerion had been during the conquest.

Aemond lifted the curtain from his window and looked back at you with an eager grin. “You will not have to wait much longer, my dear. We have arrived.”

When the porter opened the wheelhouse door, Aemond lept out. But you remained frozen in your seat. Had he not realised what he had just said?

“My dear.”

It has been said with such ease as though it was something he called you often. But that was the first time. Those two simple words had struck you like a thunderbolt and left you feeling as though you had run the distance from the castle for how fast your heart was racing.

After a moment, Aemond reappeared at the door, his arm extended to you. “Come,” he bade. “There is no reason to fear. She will not hurt you.”

You almost laughed at his misinterpretation of your state, but not wanting to explain the truth of it, you merely stood and took his arm. “Forgive me, but meeting a dragon is not an experience granted to many.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, squeezing your arm and pulling you closer to him. “There never has been.”

“None of that now,” you begged. “That is all behind us. Let us just enjoy our new present.” You turned away from him, ending any argument he may have put forward.

You were expecting to be greeted by the sight of the great Vhagar, but all that was before you was the forest’s edge. A clearing of sorts, where the ground was tamped thoroughly flat, and nearly all the trees were missing their tips.

“Where is she?” you asked, surprised to find yourself disappointed that she was not there.

Aemond gently dropped your arm and stepped forward. “She must be off hunting. I will call her.” He walked to the edge of the clearing, then raised his hand to his lips and whistled louder than you had ever imagined a person could. “Vhagar! Māzīs va nykēlā !”

The forest fell silent once more, but he did not move to call again.

“Was that Valyrian?” You moved closer to him, but not all the way into the clearing. “The words you just said. ”

He turned back to you with an amused smile. “It was. It means ‘Come to me.’ That is how I call her back when she is away.”

You came even closer to him, your curiosity getting the better of you, until he was only a step ahead. “And she can hear you? Even if she is all the way across the Kingswood?”

“She can hear me if she is near enough,” he said as he held out his hand for you to take, “but the calling is more than just words. She can sense that I want her to come to me, even if she can’t hear me.”

“That is – ”

You were cut off by the loudest sound you had ever heard. A roar which seemed to shake the very foundation of the earth and the thunderous pounding of wings. Gods, how large were her wings to make such a sound?

Without realising it, you had thrown yourself into Aemond’s arms. Your face was pressed to his chest while your hands gripped the leather of his coat. He did not laugh or push you away. Of course he didn’t. He only wrapped his arms around you and whispered soothing reassurances.

It was so warm in his arms, and with the music of his calm, steady voice, you could have easily fallen asleep then and there.

That is, if the wingbeats weren’t coming nearer.

As the sound of them grew overwhelming, then stopped, you allowed Aemond to turn you to face none other than Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons.

She was enormous.

Her body filled the clearing entirely, her tail snaking through the trees beyond until the end of it – some 100 feet away- wrapped around the broad trunk of a great oak. You followed the tail up, over aged green scales that climbed higher and higher until you were looking at a torso taller than the two-story cottage your grandmother lived in. And though her wings were tucked in to allow her to fit in the clearing, you could easily guess that they measured even longer than her body when extended.

Even her head was so large that you had to turn your neck up to see her eyes – bright orange eyes that glowed like a roaring fire as they looked down upon you. Her lip curled as she rumbled a low growl, revealing teeth as long as your forearm, and you stepped back into Aemond’s chest.

“Lykirī, Vhagar,” he commanded, wrapping one arm protectively around your waist. “Dohaeras.” You could feel his hair shift against your back as he turned his head to look at you. “Ziry ñuhon ābrazȳrys issa.”

Vhagar ended her growl but continued baring her teeth as she tilted her head to better examine you. After a moment, she narrowed her eyes at Aemond.

“Ziry sepār nyke izūgilen issa daor,” he said with a distinctly reassuring tone. “Nyke jorrāelan zirȳla. Olvie nyke jorrāelan zirȳla.”

Finally, the dragon hid her terrifying teeth and, with a huff of steam from her nostrils, extended her neck to come closer to you.

“Aemond…” you whispered, near cowering as Vhagar came close enough for you to smell the brimstone on her breath.

“It’s alright,” he replied. His lithe fingers began to trace lines up and down your sides. Whether it was as a distraction or a comfort, you did not know. “She just wants to get your scent, so she can know you better.”

You tried to calm yourself, not wanting Vhagar to smell your fear – if that was something a dragon could smell. When she finally brought her snout almost to touching you before sniffing, each inhale sucking all the heat out of the air around you. After a moment, she withdrew slightly and made a noise that, had you not been merely thankful she hadn’t eaten you, you would have described it as a purr.

“She likes you,” Aemond said into your ear, pride dripping from each word. “She likes you very much. Would you like to pet her?”

A nervous laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “You want me to pet a dragon? Like she is a dog.”

“She enjoys it, I promise.” He lifted his hand from your side to take yours and guided it to the scales between her nostrils. “This is her favourite place. That’s it. You don’t have to scratch, just stroke her scales – be sure to follow their natural direction. She won’t like it if you tug on them.”

Vhagar continued to purr as you stroked her scales, only making contact with the downward motion. Your smile grew so wide your cheeks ached, and you could not help but laugh. “She’s like an old cat! A very big old cat.”

Aemond laughed with you, again hugging you to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Be glad she can’t understand you, for she is a very grumpy big old cat.”

“I feel almost foolish to have been afraid,” you confessed as you ever so slightly bumped your head against his.

“We like to keep people – most people – afraid of the dragons. It makes them a more effective deterrent.” He nuzzled into you and sighed happily. “But I am glad you are not afraid. Would you like to ride her?”

“What?” You froze, looking up at Vhagar’s saddle high above you and the sky even higher still. “I, uh…”

Aemond shushed your frantic attempt to find words. “If you don’t want to, I won’t force you. It is a unique thrill to fly, but I understand it is not for everyone.”

You turned in his arms. “I would like to, eventually. But today, I believe I have already used all my bravery.”

Well, not all of it. But you only just had enough left to get you through your plans for the night, and you were determined to keep it.

“Then we shall return to the Keep,” he said, not a hint of disappointment on his face, “and wait for a day when your bravery has returned. It is approaching sunset, and I will be expected at dinner.”

You nodded, and Aemond said a farewell to Vhagar in Valyrian before leading you back to the wheelhouse. The two of you rode in comfortable silence back to the castle, until he again helped you out.

“I would like to come to dinner with you,” you told him as you walked through the doors of the Red Keep. “And then, after dinner, I would like you to wait an hour and then come to my rooms.”

Aemond blanched, then flushed, then let out a shaky exhale. “Of course,” he breathed, “whatever you want, my dear.”

-

When Aemond arrived in your chambers after dinner – during which he nearly jumped out of his chair each time you spoke or laid your hand on his thigh – you were sitting at the vanity, finishing with your hair. He puttered around in the solar for a moment before coming into the bedchamber, where he looked first to the bed and, upon not finding you there, began to glance around the rest of the room. When he finally turned your way, you met his eyes through the mirror and gave him an overly innocent grin as he took in your attire.

“I… what…?” His babbling continued for a moment before he quieted. For a long while, he just stared at you with an open mouth and a wide eye. He only composed himself again when you stood and approached him, stopping just before you were in arm’s reach of each other. “What are you wearing?”

“Don’t you like it?” You asked with a mischievous pout, glancing down to survey yourself. “You liked it well enough the first time you saw it.”

It took a moment for your words to sink in. You saw the moment he finally heard your words and immediately began to fumble over a reply. “Of course I like it! I more than like it, I adore it. You must know that I do. I just… why this?”

You took two steps forward, until you were close enough that Aemond had to look down to meet your eyes, and you had to look up to see his. Teasingly, you ran a hand over the neckline of your gown, across each pearl and jewel that adorned it. “I thought since you didn’t like my favourite nightclothes, I needed to find something else to entice you. This seemed a good option.”

Aemond murmured something so softly you couldn’t hear it, even as close as you were.

Another step had you standing chest to chest with your husband. You could feel him struggling to calm his breathing as he looked at you, entirely captivated and at your mercy.

Standing on your tiptoes so you could press your cheek to his, you took a moment to smile at the way his breath caught at the contact, and his hand hovered just above your waist, still unsure if he really could touch you. Then, you whispered gently in his ear, “I know you had plans to take this off me yourself, so I thought I’d give you the chance.”

Without giving him a moment to respond, you took several steps back to allow him the best possible view of your wedding gown.

Your maids had been perplexed when you asked that they retrieve it so you could wear it tonight, but they had not argued. Their only complaint was that it was not possible to replicate the braid from your wedding day in such a short amount of time. So, they simply arranged it as nicely as they could before the deadline you gave them and tucked each of the gold and pearl pins you had worn then back into the braids and curls.

With only a few minor differences, you looked precisely as you did on your wedding night.

But now you weren’t afraid of what Aemond would do. Now, you were eager to find out.

“I, uh…” he wrung his hands together as he stepped forward. “I believe we should begin with your hair.”

“Very well.” You flounced over to the vanity and retook your seat, watching him through the mirror as he cautiously approached.

He lifted a shaky hand and ran his hand slowly over the braids. “How do I begin?”

“Start by removing the pins, then brush out the braids.”

“And how many pins are there?”

“Forty-seven,” you answered smugly.

Aemond’s eyes went wide, “That many?”

“Why do you think it takes women so long to dress in the mornings? And undress at night?”

He laughed slightly, then took one of the pearl-tipped pearls between his fingers and gently pulled it out.

On your wedding day, you had thought the pins inordinately large. But seeing one in Aemond’s hands – his very large hands, they seemed miniscule.

“That’s one,” he said, depositing the pin on the surface of the vanity.

With each pin he removed, he kept count and laid each one in a perfectly straight line. But you could not be too amused by it, for each time you were, his hand would brush your neck, cup your head, or tangle into your hair. It had never felt like this when your maids tended to you.

Aemond was a dragon, and his touch was fire.

Each passing brush of his fingers burned within you, building into a raging fire or desire. By the time he finished, and laid the forty-seventh pin on the table, you were well flushed and practically panting. And as he looked to you for further direction, he could see it all. Your only consolation was that he looked as ragged as you.

“Now comb through the braids with your fingers to separate them,” you instructed. You did have a wide-toothed comb specifically meant for separating braids, but you were certainly not going to pass up the opportunity to have his hands in your hair again.

He reached for the first braid – the largest – and hooked his fingers into its base. “Please, tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know it.”

“Your confidence is all I need,” he laughed, and began to pull his hand away. The braid spilt past his fingers with an ease you had rarely been fortunate enough to see before. So did the next, and the next, until your hair was once more free to spill down your back.

“Now I brush it?” Aemond asked, reaching for the silver-backed brush on the vanity.

But you stood before he could reach it, turning to him and pushing him slightly away. “You did well enough with your fingers that brushing is unnecessary. And… I know you are eager.” You had felt the hard evidence of it against your back as he stood behind you.

“I am,” he said, “but there are other things I must do first.” He cupped your face gently, his thumb slowly swiping over your cheekbone. His eye was focused solely on your lips but filled with apprehension. And as you watched the slight pursing of his mouth, the tightening of his jaw, and the slightest furrow of his brow, you were confident that you understood exactly what he was thinking.

Funny, he had been reading your thoughts for so long. Now, it seemed you had finally caught up with him.

“You don’t have to ask,” you whispered. “You may kiss me – I want you to kiss me.”

There was a flash of elated surprise, followed by a moment of anxiety, fueled by his desperate desire that tonight not be like before. The last time he had done this, you had shied away from him, asked that he not do the one thing he had been most desperate to do.

You could read it all on his face as clearly as the words in his diary.

So, you decided to ease his anxieties yourself. Seizing the lapels of his doublet, you pulled him down to you and kissed him.

It was far from perfect. You had been overzealous and pulled him with too much force, causing your teeth to clash together as your lips connected.

Neither of you was deterred. Aemond’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you steady as he kissed, and kissed, and kissed you.

It was like you were dancing – he led, and you followed. When he pressed forward, you allowed him to do so, leaning back to give him the room he needed while still holding him close. When he softly urged your lips to part with his tongue, you offered no resistance. And when he slid one arm around your waist to pull you flush against him, you ran your hand up his chest and into his hair, tugging slightly as you tried to draw him ever closer.

At that, Aemond moaned.

Instinctively, you pulled back, breaking the kiss. It was probably due to end soon anyways – both of you were panting and out of breath.

“What happened?” he asked, his face flashing between confusion and hurt. “What did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong. I did!” You ran your hand out of his hair and held it up as though he could see the evidence upon it. “I hurt you; I apologise.”

Aemond smiled broadly and pulled you in for another kiss. “You did not hurt me,” he whispered when he pulled back. “I made that sound because I enjoyed it.”

“Oh!”

“I assure you,” he said as he guided your hand back into his hair, “you have my enthusiastic permission to continue.” Then he pulled you back in and kissed you again, and again, and again.

You decided that you very much liked kissing your husband, even when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. It was not the most pleasant of sensations for you but one you were willing to become accustomed to so long as it brought him pleasure.

It would have been very easy to stay like that all night, but you had endured putting this complicated gown on again for a reason – for Aemond.

So, with no minor difficulty, you pulled away from him, smiling when he moved to follow you.

“No, no,” you scolded playfully. “Before we continue, I insist you help me out of my dress.”

“Of course,” he answered, his voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Anything you ask of me, I will do.”

You turned slowly away from him and lifted your hair over one shoulder, exposing the lacing on the back of the gown. “Then I ask that you untie me, husband.”

He said nothing, but you felt him approach. Felt the heat of him just behind you and the ghost of his fingers at the base of your neck. You felt the light pressure as he gripped the white satin ribbon with one hand but not the other…

The other he wound around your waist to pull you closer, so that he could plant a chaste kiss against the side of your neck. You shivered at the sensation – the warmth slowly fading as he pulled back.

“I know we are both impatient,” he murmured against your skin, “but I want to savour this moment. Please, allow me to take my time.”

You raised an arm to draw him back to your lips. This kiss was not as hungry as the others. It was soft, sweet, and slow. “Take however long you need, Aemond. I am not going anywhere.”

And take his time he did. With every eyelet he unlaced, he kissed your neck again. As he lowered the sleeves one at a time, he kissed a path from your shoulder to your hands. When he untied your stockings, he rubbed the same soothing circles on your thighs that had once made you desperate for his touch.

Then suddenly, you were only in your shift, the chill of the night air prickling against your skin.

Aemond stood and began to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. “If you don’t want… If you want to keep this on, I won’t mind.”

“I want this, I promise,” you guided his hand away from the sleeve and down toward the hem, ensuring he came quite close to the space between your thighs. “It’s easier to remove from the bottom.”

He seized the hem and lifted, before pressing his forehead to yours and kissing you again. “I love you. And I ask that you only say it back should you really, truly mean it. With all your heart.”

You knew he wanted to hear it, despite his words. His eye was too pleading, too filled with hope. And though you wanted to say it, just to make him happy, you couldn’t. Not will all your heart, at least. Aemond deserved for it to be true.

So instead, you kissed him, lacing your fingers with his to finally remove the shift and bare yourself to him.

If he minded the diversion, he did not say. In fact, given that you then watched his eye dilate as he looked down at your body, you were fairly confident that he didn’t mind at all. And you were very confident that he loved your breasts, as they were where his gaze always returned to.

“May I…?” he asked breathlessly, his hand floating just above your heart. But at this moment, it was not your heart he wanted, but what lay just beneath it.

Aemond didn’t hesitate to cup your breast in his large hand, covering it completely. Though his touch was warm, your nipples went taut as he slowly massaged one breast, then the other. He tested several different ways of holding them, of applying pressure to them, and even experimented with pinching your peaked nipples – for which you quickly put a limit on how tightly he could do so.

After a moment, he licked his lips and looked up at you for permission. A nod was all he needed to bend down and take your breast into his mouth, laying sloppy kisses all over their surface before rolling his tongue lazily over your nipples.

You had enjoyed all his ministration thus far, but that?

That had your head lolling back as you moaned his name, a moan you were not given the chance to finish before his mouth was again on yours – possessive and wanting.

“Get on the bed,” he panted, a far more passionate entreaty than it had been on your wedding night, and you were far more confident.

You resisted his attempts to pull you closer to the bed, and when he leaned in to try and ply you with more kisses, you countered by nipping the tip of his nose – lightly, but hard enough to get his attention.

“Please,” he begged, ‘please get on the bed.”

“I will, Aemond.” He whined at the breathy way you said his name, tightening his grip on your hips. “First, let me remove your clothes.”

His eye was so dilated you could hardly see any purple and more than half-lidded with lust, but he obeyed, taking a single step away after giving your soft flesh a little squeeze. “Start with the belt, then the doublet, then – ”

“I am fairly confident I can figure out how to remove your clothes,” you teased. Though it soon became clear your confidence was unfounded.

Just undoing the knot on his belt took far longer than you expected. He only laughed when you frustratedly asked why he needed to knot his belt when it already had a perfectly good buckle. Fortunately, the buckles on his doublet were far simpler, though they were small enough to still delay you.

When at last you were able to throw the damned doublet and belt aside, you took your frustrations out on his neck, kissing it with such enthusiasm that you nearly pushed him over. After that display of lust, Aemond was quick to assist you with his shirt and trousers.

The moment he was as bare as you, he tried to pull you onto the bed, but again, you resisted. You had only once seen him nude, but you had not been in the mood to admire his form then. Now, you were mesmerised by the sight before you.

A long neck leading to powerful shoulders, long arms that ended in long fingers, a long, lithe torso with many divots you longed to explore, and long, slender legs corded with muscle. Every single part of him was long. Especially…

“In your diagrams, you only included the female anatomy,” you mused as you approached him, eyes locked on his flushed, hard cock. “I feel I am at a significant disadvantage, since I don’t know – ” You shrieked as Aemond grabbed you by the waist and carried you to the bed, depositing you squarely in the middle before crawling over you and peppering your face with tender kisses.

“Believe me, it is far simpler with men,” he laughed as he descended down your chest. “I doubt you will need any formal instruction.”

Formulating a witty enough response was nearly impossible as he trailed his mouth down and down. Between your breasts, over your stomach, and then –

Then nothing. Aemond sat between your spread legs, lifting your hips to rest slightly on his knees. The grin he flashed was nothing short of pure evil. He held your gaze as he took his thumb briefly into your mouth before bringing it down to that little button at the top of your sex, only long enough to bring you a moment of pleasure before he slipped it further down to part your slick folds.

“Gods,” he sighed, swiping his thumb over your entrance to collect as much fluid as he could before bringing it back to circle your pearl agonisingly slowly. “I’d hoped you’d be wet, but… I never expected this.”

You bucked your hips, trying to get him to go faster, press harder, something. Until now, you had only ever had the briefest tastes of pleasure, but now you craved more. You craved him.

“Please, Aemond!” you squealed as he finally pressed his thumb down harder.

“Give me a moment, my dear,” he said smugly. “I thought it would take longer to get you to this point. I’m having to reassess my plan.”

“Fuck your plan!” you shouted, more helplessly than you intended, judging by Aemond’s answering laugh. “Please, just do something – anything!”

“I am doing something!” he countered, emphasising his point by quickening his movements. “And it looks to me as though you’re enjoying it.”

Damn it, you were. But still, it wasn’t enough. You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back against the pillow, moaning incoherently.

“Oh, my poor darling,” Aemond cooed, “you really are desperate, aren’t you?”

You felt tears prickle in your eyes as you nodded furiously, only managing to again say “please.”

He slowed his thumb to a stop and crawled back over you, until your faces were level. “Open your eyes, love.” You obeyed, and were rewarded with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Good girl. I’m going to give you more now, but you must promise that if it hurts or if it gets to be too much, you must tell me. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you squeaked pathetically.

Aemond kissed you one last time before he retook his position between your legs, once more gathering your slick on his pointer finger before slowly – so, so slowly – pushing it inside you. It was a different feeling from his cock; not quite as pleasurable, but the discomfort on entry was far less.

“Is that alright?” he asked, and you nodded. “I’m going to move it now. Please tell me when I’ve found the correct spot.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he crooked his finger and found that ‘spot.’ The one he wrote about in his diary, the one that brought nearly the same pleasure as your pearl.

Aemond’s studying has undoubtedly paid off.

Your back arched so dramatically that he had to anchor you to the bed with his free hand on your hip. “There it is,” he crooned, utterly prideful, “do you want me to keep going?” You answered with a slew of yeses that blended into a happy hissing sound, then turned into a loud moan as he inserted another finger into you, crooking it along with the other to massage that magical little spot. “You’re doing so well, my love.”

You were too engulfed in your pleasure that you hardly even noticed the new term of endearment. All you knew was his fingers inside you, stoking a fire that burned brighter, brighter, brighter.

Everything felt hot, and soon a sheen of sweat covered your skin. You took a deep breath, angling your hips almost unconsciously, but in a way that somehow heightened your pleasure enough for your body to shake. There was tension in every muscle, a delightful tension that had you clenching your fists in the sheets and curling your toes to try and relieve. It built and built, focusing on where Aemond was touching you, where his fingers went in and out and pressed and stroked.

It was too much. Your body couldn’t possibly endure this. This was where you had always stopped when you were exploring on your own – this was past that point, and Aemond was only taking you further and further.

“Aemond, please,” you begged. What for, you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to stop, but you were afraid to discover what would happen next.

He sped his movements, watching your face with a heart-stopping intensity in his eye. “Don’t hold it in, love,” he said, splaying his free hand across your stomach. “Give into it, let it go, release.”

The word may well have been a command, for the moment he finished speaking, you let go. Lightning coursed through you, and all your limbs froze and went numb for a moment that felt like it lasted a whole year. The tension dissipated, and all of a sudden you could breathe again, feel again, think again.

“Was that…?”

Aemond’s thumb stroked your belly, the delicate touch making you realise that he had removed his fingers from you and now held them just before his lips. “It was your peak, my love.” Never looking away from you, he took the fingers that were inside you into his mouth, sucking on them as if they were the sweetest candied lemons. “Forgive me, but I think I’d like another.”

It happened so quickly. One moment, he was kneeling between your legs. The next, Aemond had pushed you further up the bed so he could lay on his stomach and drape your legs over his shoulders, his hands holding your rear as he pulled you up until your cunt was pressed to his mouth.

Your hands flew into his hair, simultaneously tugging at it and yet trying to pull him closer. His tongue was surely some kind of miracle. How else would it feel so wonderful as he licked up every drop of moisture between your thighs before pressing into your core?

More miraculous still was his nose, for every time he pushed deeper, it pressed against your pearl, rubbed against it each time he angled his head. He quickly noticed what, exactly, was driving you wild, and took to shaking his head back and forth to make you scream – and scream you did.

“Gods, Aemond, please!” You cried as the delicious tension returned, still crackling with electricity. This was far more intense than his fingers had been, and far faster to take you to that place where you had nearly no control over your own body.

Nearly no control. Some instinct deep within you, which had no purpose but to seek animalistic pleasure, took hold of you. Your hand in his hair tightened so hard he again moaned, sending vibrations through you that nearly pushed you over the edge of your pleasure. But what finally sent you tumbling over was when he allowed you to pull him up until his lips latched around your pearl, and after several long, lingering licks of his tongue, he hummed, and you screamed anew.

When you opened your eyes again, Aemond was once more hovering above you, looking at you as though your reddened, sweaty face was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were certain that guards would come streaming into the chambers at the sound, swords drawn, but none did. It was still only you and your husband. He seemed entirely content, but when you glanced down at his cock, you found it so flushed that you were sure it hurt.

“I should…” your voice faded as you reached down to touch the heavy length of him. “I don’t know how, but you could show me.”

Aemond smiled softly, his half-lidded eye seeming to glaze over for a moment. “Another time, I would like nothing more. But tonight…” He leaned down to press a slow, lust-filled kiss to your swollen lips and rested his forehead against yours when he finally withdrew. “Please don’t make me wait any longer, my love.”

Eagerly, you nodded. You were absolutely resolved to learn how to pleasure him – with your hands and mouth–. Still, it seemed a daunting task, and your body was aching to find out what Aemond could do once he was inside you.

So, you did not argue as he reached down to align himself with your entrance. But he did not yet push forward. Supporting himself with one arm, he gave you another short kiss and stroked your hair.

“I promise,” he whispered, “it will be better this time.”

You leaned into his touch and shifted your hips to try and draw him closer. When Aemond hesitated again, you looked into his eye and raised a hand to cup his cheek. “I know it will. Now please, I don’t want to wait either.”

Then he buried himself inside you in one powerful thrust.

There was still a slight pinch of uncomfortable pressure at the start, but it did not last long. And compared to the pleasure it brought you, it was entirely inconsequential. You felt full in the most wonderful way, as if you had been missing something your whole life and finally found it. Warm, like he had lit a fire within you that would burn for the rest of your days. Safe, as though nothing could ever harm you again.

You felt right.

During that moment of stillness, where you both adjusted to the feeling of joining, you buried your face in Aemond’s neck. There was nothing but him, his silver hair blocking the rest of the world from view as his scent enveloped you. Perhaps you could just stay like this forever. That was a delightful thought. You nuzzled further into him as you let out a sigh of contentment.

Aemond tensed and whispered your name. “Does it hurt? Did I not prepare you well enough?”

“No,” you replied, still not pulling away. As the desperate need for even more closeness began to well up in your chest, you wrapped the hand that was cupping his cheek around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin for how tightly you held him. “It just… it feels – you feel amazing. I wish it had always felt like this.”

“It will now,” Aemond replied, turning to place a kiss atop your head. He, too, sought to bring you closer. He brought his hand down to your waist and pulled you up so that your chests met and moved together as you breathed together. “I promise it will always feel this good. Perhaps better, once we practice a little more.”

“Oh yes!” you squeaked, finally dropping your head back to the pillow so you could look at him. “Let’s do lots of practice!”

With a laugh, he raised his brows in mock questioning. “Might I suggest we start now?”

Words escaped you for a moment, and all you could do was nod vigorously, like a child that had just been offered a whole tray of cakes. Your agreement and excitement seemed to delight Aemond, causing him to smile so wide his eyes crinkled. You instantly decided that you wanted to see that smile every day. Every hour. Every minute. For that smile was brighter than the sun itself.

“Put your legs around me, love,” he instructed, curling his hand around your thigh to guide you. Once you were positioned exactly how he wanted you, he pulled himself slightly closer to the headboard and leaned in for one last kiss, stopping just above your lips. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed against him, “so very ready.”

-

Aemond stayed in your bed all night, continuing to pleasure you until it was all you could do to keep your eyes open. Then, he stroked your hair while assuring you he was not leaving, which did not calm your panic when he got out of bed. But he soon returned, carrying a carafe of water and a damp towel. He murmured praises in your ear as he cleaned you and then himself, and commanded that you drink at least one full glass of water before you fell asleep.

You obeyed and afterwards fell asleep tucked into his chest. The next morning, you did not remember your last words to your husband before you drifted off, but he certainly did.

“I’m sorry I can’t say I love you,” you’d whispered, only half-awake, “but if you give me some time, I’m sure I can.”

Those words echoed through his mind as he slept, dreaming of a life where he would not have to walk halfway across the castle to reach his separate rooms. Where he could sleep like this, with his arms around you, every night. Where when he told you he loved you, you would respond in kind.

A dream he hoped he could live very soon. But until then, he would give you all the time you needed.

Waking from that dream was nearly a nightmare in itself, until he looked over and saw you still in his arms, still fast asleep. Your hair was a mess, and your nose was scrunched as you dreamed, but he loved every bit of it. He told you as much when you finally awoke.

When you insisted on following him to his rooms so you could attend the morning meal together, he did not protest. He loved watching you look around each chamber, your mind racing as you imagined how you would decorate the blank walls. He loved that, too.

What he did not love was that when you walked into the dining room, hand in hand, Aegon instantly perked up in his chair. His eyes darted between you and Aemond with dizzying speed before he raised his brows and mouthed, “Did she come?”

Aemond only glared at him, but you smiled and nodded, then held up seven fingers.

Begrudgingly, he loved that, too.

[horanghaeluvsinniehae]

SKZ!BFF DRUNKLY CONFESSING PT.2 pt.1

||BANG CHAN||LEE MINHO||SEO CHANGBIN||HWANG HYUNJIN||HAN JISUNG||LEE FELIX||KIM SEUNGMIN||YANG JEONGIN||

Your heart flips at the thought of Chan -your long-time crush- coming over to confess to you properly. You’ve been liking him for a while now because…well because he’s freaking Chan!! He’s just amazing and charming and just the most caring and amazing man ever.

You were thinking about him and maybe a bit overthinking the situation. You tidied up around the house and changed into some nicer clothes because you were still in your pyjamas…Time went by pretty fast and suddenly you heard a knock on your door. You took a deep breath and went to open the door.

There stood Chan in front of you holding a big bouquet. Your heart melted at the sight: a nervous-looking handsome Channie holding your favourite bunch of flowers in front of him.

“ Hi y/nah!”

“ Hi, Channie! Come in please!” You gave Chan a shy smile as he handed you the flowers and let him in. He took his coat off and looked at you shyly.

“ Hey um, I’ll just get to say what I have to say yeah?” Chan fiddled with his sweater. You smiled at how shy he got and led him to the couch to have this conversation comfortably.

Before he could start talking you spoke up. “Hey Channie, before you start I want to reassure you that I’m not mad at you and you don’t have anything to be nervous about.” You smiled at him comfortingly. You hated to see him so nervous about something like this and wanted to let him know that it’s gonna be okay.

“ Thank you. Okay so um yesterday me and some of my ‘97 liner friends went out drinking and um they started asking about my love life and um…I’ve been talking about you before and well they started teasing me and stuff. We were a couple of drinks down at this point and I got fed up with them so I told them that they can stop now because I’m gonna text you…So um yeah I just want to say how deeply sorry I am for disturbing you like this and just being so drunk. I hope you can forgive me and we can move on.” He looked down not daring to look at you.

Your heart hurt at the thought of him feeling ashamed of his actions and that he thinksű he’ll lose you. You put your hand on his and when he looked up you smiled at him softly.

“ Channie! You cant imagine how happy i am to know that you like me too! Like I think I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met! Which is at least three years! So I’m actually thankful for your silly friends that they bothered you with this for so long” You smiled at him shyly. You looked up at him and the most heart-warming sight was waiting for you. Chan was looking at you with heart-eyes and with the biggest smile on his face.

He tackled you down into the biggest hug squealing and just wiggling around being so happy. You had a face-splitting smile on and were so so happy about all of this.

You would’ve never thought he would like you and that you’d ever get together, this was one of the happiest days of your life

A/N: hi guys! Um i hope you like it! I’m working on the others and I’m sorry im slow. Tell me your thoughts on it I’d love to know if you like it or not<3

[mayhemories]

please please please do a part two of best friend’s brother with some intense toe curling smut!! 🤭🤭

Best Friend's Brother (pt. 2 Smut)

My first time publishing smut - got nervous! if people like this I will do a pt. 3 in which will be p in v. Also, some tags just are not working so if it doesn't work I'm sorry it was not purposeful.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: smut, !!!!minors dni!!!!!! Smut. Heteronormative sex, swearing, virgin reader, oral - female receiving etc. smut smut smut. Maybe a lil angsty at the start? Reader is still insecure as was requested in the original request. 

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: 

Aged up, obviously. Direct continuation of Best Friend’s Brother <- which you can find here.

Permanent Taglist: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila

Fic Taglist: @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kirapeach11 @mochiqueen16-blog @buttercake2234 @darksxder @anficblogs @ashrocker123 @strawberri-blonde @snakequeen13

Read under the cut:

You and Neteyam had been together for six months. And, undoubtedly, they were the best six months of your life. He was so affectionate, something that took you a little while to get used to, especially in front of others. 

But recently you’ve wanted to take it that one step further, but you just didn’t know how. And it was really, really bothering you. Neteyam wasn’t pushy, but he wasn’t shy the same way you were shy. The two of you spoke about anything and everything. He’s helped you explore a lot of intimacy that you felt like you were missing out on. Heated kisses, open talks, and sometimes Neteyam would write you filthy letters about how he thought about you, how he dreamed about you. And you wished you could return the favour. 

You sighed deeply, pricking yourself with your beading needle again. You were so frustrated. In every sense of the word. 

“What’s on your mind? C’mon spit it out.” Kiri said sharply, still busy with her own beading. You were grateful for Kiri, always. She always stood by you, no matter what. And, where others may drift apart in the situation you two were in, your relationship with Neteyam did nothing but bring you and Kiri closer together. She was practically your sister now. 

But you didn’t know if talking about this, about your sexual frustration with Neteyam, was apropriate conversation to have with your best friend. 

“Nothing, I am just lost in my thoughts today.” You tried to dismiss it, and swallow it down. Though you could feel the blush spreading across your body, and the fire of embarrassment spread between the valley of your breasts. 

Kiri spat out a sarcastic laugh. “Uh huh, you’ve been lost in your thoughts for days then.” Kiri tossed her beading to the ground. The two of you sat outside, in the grass soaking up the sunlight. 

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” You said, more focused on your beading now than ever. You were beading a new bodice for a clan dance in a few eclipses time. 

“Okay, so its obviously about Neteyam then.” Kiri started, you threw your beading at her while a small smirk graced her lips. 

She was still your best friend, you just didn’t want to burden her with uncomfortable knowledge. 

“(y/n) you can tell me anything, I won’t be mad, even if its gross.” Kiri assured you, you felt her eyes burning into the side of your head as you covered your face with your hands. Eywa, you were so embarrassing and naive and stupid. 

You knew Neteyam loved you, and in turn, he is an incredible man. He would never think less of your innocence or your shyness. 

But your own brain enjoyed the act of self-sabotage, and you often could not help but to think the lack of sex life was due to your lack of appeal. 

“You have to promise me not to get grossed out!” You say, pulling your hands away from your face, holding Kiri’s eyeline. You knew you were a blushing mess, riddled with anxiety and nausea. 

“I promise! I’m not a child, and I’m not Lo’ak.” She quipped. You chuckled and you tried to put your heart back down in your chest from where it had risen to your throat. 

“Well, Neteyam and I have been together for awhile…” You started playing with your long braids, nervously. Kiri urged you on. “We have been together for awhile, and I love him, you know I do-” 

“Trust me, everyone knows you do.” You ignored Kiri’s interjection, soldiering on. 

“-And I don’t expect us to form a bond anytime soon, of course but…” You felt the burning sensation under your skin, your blood was too loud and the day too bright, everything was causing a sensory malfunction. 

“But what?” Kiri was kind, and she never pushed you further than necessary. 

“Well, I would like to mate with him but I’m so scared and I don’t know how to ask, let alone do anything remotely sexual and I’m afraid Neteyam knows this and that’s why we haven’t done anything yet and I’m just stupid so I would get his hesitancy-” 

Kiri cut your rambling off, laughing. Throwing her head back in the sun, you could see all the stripes that ran across her neck, hiding under necklaces and her com. 

“Have you just asked him?” She asked plainly, once she collected herself. 

You were shocked - just ask him, was she crazy? 

“Well, no I haven’t.” You mumbled, fetching your beadwork from Kiri’s lap, and finding solace in the distraction. 

“That’s where you start, (y/n). There’s no shame in not knowing.” Kiri said softly, sensing your unease. She went back to her own beadwork and did not bring it up again. 

You knew Neteyam would be back any minute. You sat, still working on the fine beading in your new tent given to you as a step into your adulthood. You enjoyed living away from your parents, the solace and independence. But, Neteyam knew you got lonley and stayed with you most nights. 

Tonight was one of those nights. And, Neteyam always comes to you as soon as he finishes his duties. 

You were just going to ask him, like Kiri said. 

That was no big deal, right? You did not know what you were going to say, you were going to ‘go with the flow’ like Jake says sometimes. 

This ‘flow’ made you feel like you were drowning.

Soft lips on your forehead snapped you out of your whirlpool thoughts. 

“My love are you alright? I’ve been talking to you for a minute or two now.” Neteyam said softly, holding both your cheeks in his hands. His eyes scanned your face to find a trace of what was bothering you, your face flushed under his intense stare. 

“I’m sorry Neteyam, there’s been a lot on my mind recently.” You said, smiling. Neteyam took the bait, removing his hands from your face, sitting across from you on the floor, legs crossed. 

“Tell me about it my lovely girl.” Neteyam said, reaching out for one of your hands. Partially because he craved your touch, and partially to distract you from your beading. He had missed you all day, and did not want to share your attention with some beads. 

You sighed softly, taking his hand. Everytime you looked at Neteyam his stomach flipped, he felt butterflies and fell in love all over again, everytime. He did not miss the bright blush that burned across your high cheekbones and nose, and that dipped down into the valley of your breasts. He knew his eyes lingered there for a beat too long, but you did not notice. 

“Neteyam I am embarrassed to ask you this,” His heart dropped into the field of butterflies in his stomach. “But, do you want to have sex with me?” 

He must’ve heard you wrong. His head snapped to yours, finding you looking up at him through your thick lashes, innocently. 

“What?” The word fell from his mouth before he could reel it back in. And, you were quick to jump to the defensive, afraid of upsetting him, of offending him. 

“We do not have to obviously, as I know I am not experienced and maybe that is not what you’re after but-” 

The low growl came from Neteyam’s chest. ‘No experience’ was just a polite term for ‘no one else's’. As far as Neteyam was concerned, if another male looked at you for too long it was reasonable grounds for a fight. 

“You want to have sex with me?” Neteyam asked, he felt all the blood rush in-between his legs. The conversation alone was enough for him. He has wanted you for so long, for too long. But he would never, ever make you operate outside your own terms. 

You smiled, the fleeting confidence that he provided you swelling in your chest. 

“I would want nothing more, my Neteyam.” 

The kiss was hot, and striking. His hands cupped your face, like they had done not all that long ago, but this time, he laid you down, your back to the floor. His strong, muscular frame leaning over you, your chests touching, and one of his knees had found his way between your legs. His tongue wiped your lips, a gentle way to ask for permission. You gave it to him, his tongue fought yours for dominance, briefly, until you submitted to him, like you always did. 

You were still fully clothed, Neteyam too, but the heat was insurmountable. His knee was far from your clothed cunt, but the anticipation caused slick to gather there all the same. 

He pulled away from the kiss, you were thankful for the air but you craved the feeling of him so close. 

“My love you have to tell me if you don’t like something, or if you don’t feel comfortable or if you change your mind, ok?” He whispered into your ear, you nodded, words failing you. “No, use your words babygirl, let me hear you.” Neteyam left paperlight kisses under your ear, and moved to your jaw. 

“Okay.” You said, breathless, barely above a whisper. 

“Good girl.” Neteyam kissed down the column of your neck, sucking and biting. His cainines taking your sweet flesh and leaving dark, purple marks in his wake. Everyone would know who you belonged to now. If there was any doubt before, there would never be again. 

Neteyam’s left hand was still cradling the side of your face, while his right played with the skin at your waist, rubbing up and down, teasing the skin underneath the hem of your beaded top. As he continued the assault on your neck, down to your chest and the straps of your coverings laid, you felt the tip of his tail caress your thigh, his own knee moving up to find your wet core. 

You couldn’t help but moan at all the stimulus. You felt Neteyam stop for a microsecond, but it was enough for you to feel embarrassed, you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, stifling anything else that may humiliate you. 

He pulled away from your chest, leaning over you to look you in the eye, his free hand that had been playing with the hem of your shirt came up to pull your hand away. He placed your hand on his toned, flexing chest. 

“No. No, I want to hear you, don’t be embarrassed.” His thumb swiped across your lip and in an act of lust-induced insanity you opened your mouth and sucked on it. “Never hide from me, my love.” Neteyam smiled lightly, his eyes fluttering closed, he pressed his hips against your own. 

You felt how hard he was against you, your internal walls clenched against nothing, but you felt how soaked your loincloth had become. Neteyam let out his own deep moan. 

“Do you feel me, babygirl? Do you feel what you do to me?” His voice had changed, deep and commanding and alluring. 

It was all too much. You felt the coil in the base of your stomach tightening. 

“Answer me, sweetheart.” Neteyam whispered as he ground into you, his lips attaching themselves to your already bruised neck. Both his hands making quick work of removing your top, discarding it with no care. 

“Yes, yes, I-” Your breath hitched as his mouth found your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud around in his mouth. “I want to feel you inside, Neteyam.” You said bravely, shutting your eyes, you could not control the nonsense that fell from your mouth. You were too fucked out and barely anything had happened yet. It was embarrassing. 

He wanted you nonetheless. 

Neteyam could not help but growl when the sweet words fell from your plush, beautiful lips. He removed himself from your swollen nipple. He took you in, looking at all of you. Your body had a light sheen of sweat, your head was rolled back, lips parted- mewling. You were everything to him. 

Netyam did not hesitate in removing your loincloth as quick as his nimble fingers would allow, sliding the fabric down your legs he took the time to squeeze your thighs and calves. He wanted to consume you, every part. Mind, body and soul, Neteyam would never stop wanting you. He supposed that made him selfish. But, Neteyam had never asked for anything in his whole life, save for you. And, he would be completely satisfied in his existence in this life if all he had was you. 

“Can I taste you my love?” Neteyam asked, using one of his hands to part your legs, wider, his other was massaging the flesh of your thigh. He saw your sopping cunt for the first time and fuck, Neteyam felt wasted. Absolutely toatled. His dick strained against his own covering, twitching at the sight. 

Stunning. 

You nodded, giving him permission. Neteyam pinched your inner thigh, making you squeal in surprise, raising your head slightly you squinted at him. “Words, babygirl. I know you know how to use ‘em.” 

“Taste me, honey. I want whatever you want me to want.” You laid your head back down of the floor of your home, desperate for friction your bare hips bucked upward, and you could’ve sworn you heard Neteyam’s breath hitch. 

He wasted no time in exploring your most private heat. Neteyam ate you like a man starved, your moans doing nothing but spurring him on. 

You wanted to save your first orgasm for his dick, but Neteyam licked and sucked, one of his hands had found your clitoris, and you felt that tight coil in your stomach begin to snap. Instinctively, your hand flew to his hair, nestling in his braids as he hit a certain spot. Back arching, you began to unravel, and unravel quickly. 

“Neteyam, I can’t, I’m going to-” You began to apologise about your approaching orgasam, embarrassed that you could not save it for when he was inside. His fingers worked quickly on your clit, as he pulled his mouth away briefly. 

“Cum for me, my darling girl.” His husky voice sent a shock through your body, his fingers never stalling, his tongue found your heat again, licking, stroking, tasting. His words were enough for you. 

You felt your walls clench, squirting around his sucking mouth, he drew it from you, swallowing it down. You felt him smiling against you, against your shaking, heavily breathing frame. 

Neteyam came up, his arms extended on either side of your head, your felt his hard-on ground into your naked form, his loincloth would be stained from your wetness. You began to come down from your high, Neteyam captured your eyeline. You stared at him, and his smirk, a bead of your own cum on the side of his mouth. You threw your hands over your eyes and face in embarrassment, you couldn’t help it. You felt like you should’ve lasted longer than you did. 

Neteyam loosed a breathy chuckle watching you hide behind your hands, while your shatteringly-beautiful and so very naked form laid under him. 

“Don’t hide sweetheart, I need to see your face baby.” You shook your head in reply, keeping your hands firmly placed against your face. “I see you. I see you despite the fact that you’re too embarrassed to look at me.” Neteyam’s voice was hoarse, his words raw, and you could do nothing but look at him then. 

See him. 

Feel him. 

Love him, 

Entirely.

He smiled when he saw your warm eyes again. And, you knew you were done. Totaled, even.

“I see you.” You spoke softly, worried that if you were any louder this would all fade into nothingness.

He captured you in a strong, burning kiss. And you giggled at the face that you could taste yourself on his lips. 

You decided that you would not be embarrassed around Neteyam anymore. 

[moonywritez6]

When You're Gone Part 2 (Reupload)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names, fire

Context: The reader ends up dying due to sorcerers, and villagers. This is their reaction after you are gone. (Witch!reader for Sukuna)

Word Count: 4,677

A/N: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

Part 1

______________________________________________________________

Toji

Toji sighed as he walked into the abandoned building where he was supposed to meet with Shiu. 'What a pain.' Toji thought, interested in something other than what Shiu had to discuss with him. Toji was considering skipping the meeting altogether if it wasn't for you. Toji smirked at the thought of your shy smile, ready to hear your sweet voice scold him for zoning out while your colleague was trying to discuss business with him. The memory brings a slight chuckle to his throat as he places a hand behind his neck, letting out a loud yawn as he notices Shiu standing there. Alone. 

Toji hums, stopping a few paces in front of the detective. "Hm? What, did little Miss Tiger decide to skip out on us today?" He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he had assigned you due to your stern personality. Shiu just stared at the assassin with a sad look as he sighed deeply, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's actually why I called you out today…." He tossed the cigarette on the ground, Toji watching as he stomped it with his foot. "As of three days ago, Y/l/n Y/n was killed in her home by a wanted sorcerer she had was assigned to," Shiu said while making direct eye contact with Toji. 

"What?" Toji asked, his eyes narrowing as a frown adorned his face. Shiu just sighed, knowing that Toji didn't believe his words. "Y/l/n Y/n is dead." Toji's fists clenched as he went and roughly grabbed Shiu by the collar, his face inches from the detectives. "Quit yer fucking bullshit and tell me the truth. Cause I ain't finding this joke funny." Toji growled, his neck flexing as a vein appeared on his right temple. Shiu didn't back down as he stared at Toji with serious eyes. Toji clicks his tongue as he tosses Shiu away before turning on his heel to leave the building. "Fushiguro!" Shiu called out, not having finished everything he wanted to say to the assassin. Toji ignored him as he pulled his phone out angrily, dialing your number and pressing it to his ear, waiting for your voice to pick up on the other end. 

The number you have dialed is not available; please-

Toji cursed quickly, hanging up the phone as he continued to call your number multiple times. "Fucking brat answer the phone." He hissed, walking past numerous people on the streets. Just as Toji was about to call you again, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. Toji stopped in place, his phone now resting at his side still open as he stared at the TV inside a small store. There was a news channel with a small picture of you with the caption, 'Local woman found dead in her apartment. Cause of death: a giant hole through the chest.' Toji's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief. 

Once your picture was no longer on the screen, Toji cursed to himself as he quickly returned home. Once home, Toji slammed the door as hard as he could, not even bothering to turn on the lights before throwing everything in his line of sight, trashing his apartment as he yelled multiple curses. 

_____

Days have passed since Toji was hit with the news of your horrible death. Your funeral was two days later, but Toji never went. He refused, thinking that if he went and saw your name on one of those damned stones, every person he came in contact with would be killed on sight. It wasn't like the two of you had been dating for long, about a year, to be exact. Toji had many girlfriends and flings before meeting you, so he never cared when they would turn up missing or disappear without anyone knowing. However, when it came to you, it was different. What Toji felt for you was similar to when he lost his wife. 

Toji sat on the floor of his apartment; broken items littered the room as the lights remained off. A slight glow lit up the room as Toji saw his phone ringing. He lifted it to see Shiu's contact appear on the screen. Growling in annoyance, he flipped the phone on, pressing it to his ear. "What?" He snapped his voice slightly horse from having yelled so much before. "You sound awful. Have you been taking care of yourself at all?" Toji groans as he presses his thumb and pointer finger to his eyes. He applies pressure as he rubs them, feeling how tired his eyelids are as the dark circles slightly appear from the phone's light. "Get to the point. I'm in no mood." He grumbled while pulling another cigarette from his pocket. 

"You weren't at Y/n's funeral." Shiu was blunt and to the point, causing Toji to grunt as he placed the stick between his lips. "So what? I don't need to make an appearance around people who I never fucking saw once around her." He spat while patting his pockets to find his lighter. It wasn't entirely an excuse. When Toji and you started dating, he had never met anyone who claimed to care for you. Shiu didn't say anything momentarily, causing Toji to furrow his brows in annoyance. "Anything else?" He growled, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. "We're still looking for the man who killed her. I promise Toji he will be found and punished." Shiu claimed with total confidence. Toji's eyes narrowed as he listened to those words; scoffing, he tried lighting the cigarette. "Oh, you're damn right he will be…. I'm going to fucking kill him. That's my promise." Before Shiu can say anything else, Toji hangs up, tossing the phone randomly. 

Toji sits there; brows furrowed in annoyance as he flicks at the lighter, growing increasingly agitated with it not working. "Tch. Fucking useless-!" Toji goes to throw the lighter but stops when he notices what one is in his hand. He freezes, staring at the small item, remembering when you had given it to him as a gift. 

____

You and Toji were out discussing business when it suddenly started to rain down, causing the two of you to get soaked as you ran for cover. The two of you sigh as you watch the rain fall from where you now stand, soaking wet. "Geez! The forecast said nothing about rain!" You whined angrily, scrolling through your phone as you double-checked the weather. Toji grunted as he ran a hand through his hair, watching the water droplets fly off. "I should've packed an umbrella…." You whispered in thought, brows furrowed, a slight pout on your lips. Toji internally chuckled, finding your expressions amusing. 

You were always frowning or having some angry tick whenever something didn't go as planned, or you would get mad, which caused him to love teasing you every chance he could. "Well~ well~ it looks like miss organized and plans ahead failed once again~" He teased, a sly grin on his face as he went and pulled out a cigarette. You looked at him, eye twitching as he placed it between his lips. He looks down at you curiously before grinning, one brow raised. "Got something to say, tiger?" He questioned, raising his lighter. You click your tongue, looking away from him. "As if I would have anything to say to such a rude man!" You scoffed, earning a chuckle. 

It went silent between the two of you. The only sounds heard were the falling rain and the clicking of Toji's lighter. You glanced up, noticing the annoyed look on the taller man's face as he grunted, trying to get it to light. The two of you stood like that momentarily before you thought of something. “One moment, Fushiguro! I'll be right back!" You announced suddenly, running to the convenience store across the street. Toji stood there, confused momentarily, before trying the lighter again. After a few more tries, he curses, tossing the small contraption to the ground and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

He watches the convenience store waiting for your small form to appear in the doors. When you finally come out, he takes notice of the umbrella in your hand as You quickly run across the street, standing in front of him again. You look at him, a small pant leaving your lips as you hold your fist out to him. He looks at you curiously but complies, holding one of his giant hands out for you. You place the lighter in his hand, surprising him with the sudden gesture. "You didn't have to do that tiger." He mumbled but still went and used the lighter for his cigarette, nodding in approval. 

You just laughed, placing a hand behind your neck as you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Well, consider it as my apology gift to you!" You laughed shyly. "Apology? For what?" He mumbled, leaning back against the building under which you both had taken shelter. You just smiled a bright smile, a blush coating your cheeks as you held a finger up to your lips as if telling him not to spill a secret. 

"For forming a crush on you of course!" 

_____

Toji sat there, eyes covered by his messy bangs as he gripped the lighter. "Damn tiger…" He cursed as he forcefully tried to flick the lighter on again, this time not stopping as his body began to shake. “Fuck Y/n….” He looked up with tears running down his face as he bit the cigarette as hard as he could. 

"Come back and declare your love for me over and over again, dammit." 

Sukuna

You were known as the witch of the woods. No one entered those woods fearing being cursed or killed in horrible, gruesome ways. However, that was far from the truth, as you were a sweet and docile woman who only wished to heal and create with your magic. You and Sukuna had first met when he had entered the woods in search of your magical abilities. When he showed up at your small hut in the woods, you were surprised, not by his fearful appearance but by his giant wound in his side, causing immense amounts of blood to gush out. Sukuna watched you quickly drop the items you were holding as you ran to him, your small frame inches from his intimidating one. He flinched as you placed your tiny hands around the wounded area, eyes scanning the injury with deep concentration. 

Sukuna frowned at you, not liking how you didn't cower in his presence or even acknowledge his fearful appearance. He roughly grabbed your hand with one of his own, pulling it up so you were forced to look up at his face, each eye holding a murderous glare. "Oi, pitiful witch of the woods. Who do you think you are to approach me like this?" He hissed; a voice filled with venom. You just looked at his eyes, showing no fear as you said nothing. You went and placed a hand on his wound, chanting in a language he was not familiar with. 

Sukuna watched as the wound healed faster than he could regenerate it. He hummed in amusement while looking down at you with a dark smirk. You just looked at him, your aura tense and powerful. "I am not afraid of curses." You declared a voice so elegant it made his ears ring. He laughed loudly, causing you to flinch at the sudden noise covering one of your ears in pain. Sukuna pulls you closer to him, faces inches apart as he looks at you with a deranged smile. "You're such an amusing witch of the woods…. It makes me want to play with you more before ending your pathetic and weak life." He laughed, looking deep into your eyes. 

Sukuna became enthralled by your talents, watching you cast spells he didn't know or ever heard of. You taught him some of the magic you knew over time, informing him of the repercussions of some of the spells. He would listen carefully, wanting to know everything if it meant his chances of gaining even more power. The two of you were complete opposites, so it was strange how you became so close. You never understood why a man filled with nothing, but murderous and selfish intent could ever want with someone like you who wished for peace and never had any selfish desire. 

"We don't share much in common, do we?" Sukuna grunted one day when the two of you sat outside. You looked at him, tilting your head as you continued to mix some herbs for a new medicine you were working on. "You're just realizing this now, Sukuna-san." Your laugh was so soft that it made Sukuna feel a tingle in his chest. "Tch. Do you finally want to die?" He grumbled, giving you a slight glare as he flicked your forehead, his other arms crossed over his chest while the fourth one scratched the back of his head. You whine as you hold your forehead, a giant pout on your face. "So weak." He teased, "Like I said, not much in common." He shrugged, looking away from you to stare at the setting sun. 

"Indeed, we don't share much in common, but…. there is one thing we will have until the day comes when we die." You whispered while placing a handout towards the setting sun with a sad look on your face. "Oh? And what would that be?" Sukuna hummed, interested in your words, as he glanced down at you in wonder. Though small, Sukuna could see the sad and lonely smile on your lips. "The world will hate us…never to be accepted for what we are." Your words took a moment to sink in for Sukuna. He hummed, his expression unreadable. 

Suddenly, he was placing both his right arms towards the sunset like you. "Even if that's true… I'll always accept you for what you are." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, lips slightly parted. He made no effort to look at you as his eyes stayed fixed on the changing colors in the sky. "Sukuna-san…" you felt your heart racing as heat started to sneak onto your face. Suddenly, he looked at you with an annoyed look, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance as he went and hit your head. "Also, who the hell do you think will be dying?! Damn stupid witch!" He yelled, causing you to cry while he just shoved the herbs you had been mixing down your throat. 

_______

The king of curses couldn't believe his eyes and ears as he stood in place, body in complete shock. Down below him was a village just outside the woods he had grown to call home. There, in the center of said village, stood a huge crowd of angry and fearful villagers, each one cheering or chanting multiple curses into the air as they looked at the giant fire that rose into the sky, turning the once beautiful sunset view into a clouded gray sky. However, it wasn't the villagers that were causing the fear in Sukuna's heart and soul. Oh no. It was the screams of his lover, whose shadow was seen thrashing within the flames tied to a giant pole. 

"Stop it! Please! What did I do wrong?! Please tell me!" You cried from the flames. Sukuna's fists started dripping blood as all the blood vessels in each of his eyes burst. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You apologized to the villagers who relished in your pain and suffering. He was seeing red. Before anyone could process anything, Sukuna was brutally murdering every one of the villagers, ensuring they didn't die without immense pain. His shouts and feral laughter were the last thing to curse their ears. Soon, the village was nothing more than a blood bath. Sukuna stood there, blood dripping from every part of his body as he looked down at the burnt body in front of him. 

He doesn't say anything as he kneels carefully, picking up your body with all four arms staying there, making sure your body is as close as possible to his as he grits his teeth before screaming into the sky cursing the entire world. 

_____

"Hey Sukuna, do you believe in soulmates?" You asked while reading from that mysterious book of yours. "Huh? Soulmates? I know I joke about you being stupid but I'm starting to think that you really are." He said, looking at you annoyed. You frown at him going and whispering a small spell, causing the tea he was drinking to spray up while he went to take a sip. You stand there, mouth covered with one hand, trying to hold your laughs back.

Meanwhile, Sukuna gave you the most sadistic look you could ever imagine, tea dripping from his face. "Y/n~" He sang in a deadly tune. You cringe as you cower in the corner, waving your hands in front of you frantically. 

"SUKUNA IT WAS A JOKE!" You cried while he stood there cracking his knuckles, a dark aura surrounding him. "I just wanted to see if you would help me with this old spell I found!" You squealed, bracing yourself for what was to come. When nothing happened, you peeked from behind your fingers. "Eh?" You asked confused. Sukuna just stood there looking down at you with a curious expression. "An old spell?" He questioned, bending down to your height and tilting his head in thought. "About soulmates?" You nod "mhm!" "You want to see if we're soulmates?" You nod proudly, arms crossed over your chest. Sukuna smirks as he watches his words slowly process for you. A deep blush covers your cheeks as you stammer over your words, trying to defend yourself while he laughs, finding the situation amusing. He rests his head on one of his fists as he crouches before you. "Then do it." He said, a cocky smirk on his face. "I wanna see…if you're my soulmate witch of the woods." You blushed tears from embarrassment in the corners of your eyes as you looked away quickly, getting everything you needed for the spell. Sukuna didn't move; he just stayed in place, watching you place all the items in front of him before sitting on the other side. 

"Okay! Ready?" You ask, a shy smile on your face. Sukuna hums, holding an arm out as he pricks some skin, watching the drop of blood fall into the bowl. You carefully do the same thing, neither of you saying a word. "How will we know?" He mumbles, not looking away from the bowl. "According to the spell, if you're soulmates, then both of you will suddenly have-!" You stop noticing the black tattoos form on your wrists along with others. You quickly looked up at Sukuna, seeing the same thing happen to him, only his markings were slightly different. The two of you stare at each other in shock. "...markings…" You whispered, a slight blush on your cheeks. Sukuna stares at you, eyes still slightly wide, before kissing you deeply. 

You squeak, feeling his hands start to feel up and down your body, not in a lustful way but in what feels like a devoted one. "My soulmate…my witch of the woods…your soul belongs only to me." He whispered, kissing up your neck before reaching your lips. You just giggled while placing your hand on his cheek, a soft smile on your face. "Sukuna-san…thank you for allowing me your soul… it's my greatest treasure."

______

"OI! SUKUNA!" Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of his throne. 'Ah, that's right…the kid is crying about helping that damn friend of his…tch. Not my fault he got his soul changed.' Sukuna thought, uninterested in what Yuji yelled at him. He just sighed before noticing a small tear falling from his eye. He swipes it away while looking at the markings on his wrist. He smiled a small smile, something that no one in the world would ever see besides one person, and she was gone. Sukuna placed a gentle kiss on the tattoos. 

"My soul yearns for you my Queen…my soul…one that only you can have and touch…my Y/n…" 

Choso

Choso fell against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the flower, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opened to scream, cry, yell, but nothing came out. He grips both sides of his head and slowly shakes it before squeezing his eyes shut, the tears appearing to get worse. Choso opens his eyes, glancing to his left to see the broken pieces of what was once a cursed item that informed him of your well-being. The two of you decided to get them when Choso started to fear for your safety after the deaths of his two younger brothers. He remembers your gentle smile as you happily agreed to his request, telling him you would do anything to ensure his mind was at ease. 

When he processed the broken pieces once again, signaling that you were no longer in this world with him, Choso snapped, his eyes practically rolling back as he screamed until it felt like his lungs would tear from his chest. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand why she was only gone for two days!" He screamed to himself while rolling around on the floor like a madman, the tears never-ending. First, his brothers and now his lover, all three gone from his side within a blink. "How could I fail to protect my family?!" Choso felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his face, tiny beads of blood appearing here and there. "Y/n! Y/n!" Choso reached for the broken pieces, his body soon becoming still as he grits his teeth, his eyes leaking tears. 

"My beautiful sweet bleeding heart…tell me it's a lie…you said you would be right back by my side." Choso sobbed as he held the broken cursed object to his chest while staring at the night sky. Choso's mind runs wild as he asks himself so many questions about your death. 'Was she scared? Did she suffer? Was it peaceful? Did they torture you? Did you cry? Smile? Were you lonely? Did you wish for him to save you?' all these thoughts ran through his head as he cried into the night. After some time, Choso quieted down, slowly rising to his feet as he stomped to his family's home, your home, no, to his home. He said nothing, his eyes void of any light as he lifted his head to the sky like a zombie, watching as snow started to fall. 'It's so cold tonight, Y/n….' He thought his hand subconsciously opened as if ready to take another's smaller one.  

_______

"Choso! Can I have a hug?!" You cheered, standing before your cursed boyfriend with a giant smile as you held your arms wide open. Choso just looked at you from his seat, tilting his head in confusion. "But didn't I just give you one five minutes ago?" he asked, not understanding why you wanted another one. You smile at him, slightly jumping in your step as you lean forward, arms still open, awaiting his embrace. "So?! What if I want to hug you every five minutes? You hurt me, my blood lotus." you whispered a slight pout on your cheeks. Choso flinches as he quickly goes and wraps you in his loving embrace. "I could never dream of such a thing. Me? Hurt you? I would rather die my bleeding heart." He whispers while inhaling the smell of your shampoo you knew he loved. 

"I love everything about you, my sweet flower." he caressed your cheek, a tiny blush on his cheeks as he avoided eye contact, still too embarrassed. You just giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to pull away from the hug. You hum, pressing your forehead to his as you force him to look into your eyes. You smile, eyes as bright as the day he met you. "Your eyes are so beautiful…" You whispered, gently placing the pads of your thumbs onto his dark circles, giving a small massage to the flesh. Choso lets out a small moan of approval as he carefully caresses one of your wrists with his fingers barely grazing your skin. "My bleeding heart…" You watched as Choso placed tender kisses on your wrist, his eyes glancing at you with much love and admiration. 

"Does this makeup for me hurting you earlier? Or do you wish for more?" He whispered, his thumb slowly dragging down your bottom lip, causing you to blush at his sudden boldness as you quickly jumped away, hiding your face. "T-that's perfectly fine! I'm already way better! I promise!" You stumble over your words, causing a gentle smile to caress Choso's face. "I adore you." He whispered honestly. "I-I get it!" you cried, covering his mouth with your hands. He laughs, loving how cute you are being. Choso pushes back a strand of your hair once you remove your hands from his mouth. "There's just one thing I'll never understand," he confessed, ensuring that you looked presentable when you had to go outside on your next assignment. "Hm? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head as you interlocked your fingers with his. "This," he confessed, gesturing to your hands holding one another. 

"You always want to hug or touch me in some way almost every second of the day. I am not complaining, of course…as I love you and…" he trailed off, growing shy at his words before clearing his throat. "I guess I just don't get why that is all." He admitted with a slight nod. You hum a smile as you lean back slightly, tilting your head to the side, eyes closed in thought. "Well…I guess it's because…for me I feel like if I don't keep touching you, you'll disappear from my side forever. So I want to ensure you're still with me in this world, Choso." You confessed this time using his name instead of your chosen nickname for him. Choso blushes before smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh while going to ruffle your hair. 

"Haha! You're so silly! I'll really never understand you Y/n." he confessed lovingly. You just looked up at him with your biggest smile, a deep blush on your cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you so, so much my bloody Lotus!" You cheered, and Choso could practically see just how pure and true your love for him was while looking into your eyes. 

_______

Choso stood in the doorway of your once-shared bedroom. His drained facial expression scanned the entire area, ensuring he took everything in, wanting to remember this room with all your shared belongings for the rest of his life. Choso lays down on the shared bed, making sure he curls up into a bawl as he shakily reaches for your pillow and your side of the blanket, bringing both pieces of fabric next to him, squeezing like they, too, would vanish from his grasp. Choso inhales your scent, tears falling from his face, drenching your once favorite pillow as he shoves his face into it, not wanting to forget your smell once it no longer remains in the place you two called home. 

"I wish you were here, my bleeding heart…I want to feel you next to me…I need you next to me." Choso cries, his entire body shaking as his mind fails to accept what has happened. Guilt soon fills his heart as he lets out a heart-wrenched sob, squeezing his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I didn't always hug and touch you whenever you were near me…maybe if I did…would you not have disappeared from my side Y/n? Are you gone because of me?" 

[bupia]

42 with dew 🌹

Inexperienced Smut Prompts: Dewdrop, Ghoul

"So excited already..."

There's a smut bellow the cut, +18 only, please. (oral sex & fingering; overstimulation) [AFAB!Reader]

"Are you sure about it?" he inquired.

"Y-Yes," you managed to say trying to sound less nervous than you were.

"You know you could ask it to Papa and he would do it for you," he said with a playful giggle escaping his lips.

"I know," you averted your gaze from his, staring at the floor. "But... I really want you to do it."

"If that's what you want," he took a step closer to you, causing your back to colide against the wall of the hallway. "I can help you with it."

Dewdrop got his body pressed on yours, leaning his face down to your neck, taking a deep breath. His hand found it way to your waist, he turned your back to him and pressed his body tighter against yours.

"You're so excited already..." Dewdrop whispered close to your ear. "I can smell it on you."

You turned and looked at him above your shoulder. "I... I can't help."

"I thought you would be a little more nervous," he teased with a grin.

"No, I'm not," you replied, biting your lower lip.

He leaned in and kissed your cheek before whispering, "I want you to know that I'm not going to hurt you."

His words had the effect of making you feel a touch shy, and you nodded in response, your cheeks tinted with a hint of a blush.

"I... I know."

"You don't sound too sure of it," he said playfully. "Are you sure you want me to do it?"

You turned your body to look at him, face-to-face. You sighed and leaned against him.

"I just don't know what to expect," you answered honestly.

"Should we..." he paused, taking a deep breath. "Move to my quarters, so you can find out?"

You nodded and he grabbed your hand. You followed him down the hall towards a door, his quarters door. When you walked into the room, you were surprised by how small it was. The bed almost took up most of the space. A dresser stood against the wall and a nightstand next to it.

Dewdrop turned to you. "Feel yourself at home," he told you.

"Thank you," you said shyly.

"Now," he started, slowly removing his mask.

Your gaze remained fixed on him as he took off his mask, allowing his hair to cascade over his shoulder, as though it had materialized from beneath the concealment. In an instant, his yellowish eyes locked onto yours, sparking a fervor within you.

"Get undressed for me," he ordered.

You started to protest but he cut you off with his finger over your lips. "I will not tell you again."

You nodded seeing him smiling. You began to remove your habit, his eyes following every move you made. When you were completely naked, he stepped forward and kissed your deeply. His hot hands roamed over your body causing a contrast to the heat of your own body.

"You feel so good," he whispered in your ear. "Touch you is so good," he continued. "I want to touch you everywhere," he added, pulling away from your lips.

He took your hand on his, leading you to the bed, lying you down. He reached out and ran his fingers through your hair.

"You're so soft..." he commented. "So smooth," he whispered.

Leaning in, he kissed your neck. You moaned softly as he pressed warm kisses on your neck again, this time moving to your collarbone. He kissed and licked every inch of your neck with his forked tongue until he reached your earlobe. He gently sucked it into his mouth, causing you to moan louder.

"Do you like that?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied breathless.

"Good," he grinned. "Because I'm going to make you scream my name."

He slowly kissed his way down your neck, stopping briefly to suck your nipples into his mouth. He moved down further, kissing your belly button. He stopped there and used his tongue to trace a like around it. He then kissed his way down to your core. He looked up at you and smirked.

"It looks like someone else is enjoying this as much as I am," he said.

He slid down, kissing your inner thighs. You could feel his warm breath on your core. He blew softly on it, making you shiver. He continued and flickered his tongue across your arousal. You cried out and he continued to lick and kiss your flesh. He kissed the inside of your tight, avoiding your clit. He stopped there, breathing on you. You whimpered, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter.

"P-Please, dew..."

He blew harder, blowing across your clit. You moaned loudly and he blew harder yet, blowing directly on your clit. Then he slowly ran his tongue along your slit, he slowly licked his way up your slit, pausing to suck each of your folds into his mouth. You felt your legs tremble and instinctively closed them with a fast move. Dewdrop grunt and spread your legs apart in a abrupt move, burring his face in your core.

You gasped as his tongue darted out and licked you. He licked up and down your slit, occasionally flicking your clit with his tongue. You grabbed the sheets with your fists, squirming beneath him, trying to get closer to his mouth. He laughed devilishly and slid two fingers inside you. You whined as he pushed them deep inside you.

"You can beg for it, but we need to get you ready, right?"

You couldn't reply him as he pumped them in and out of you, using his thumb to rub your clit. He pushed them as far inside you as they would go and curled his fingers upward, rubbing your spot. You closed your eyes and moaned louder.

"DEW!" you screamed.

You heard a pleasant chuckle coming from him."I told you I was going to make you scream my name, didn't I?"

He sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue, licking it across the split of his forked tongue, sending shivers of pleasure down your body. Your hips rose off the bed as you couldn't handle it, you came hard. But he didn't stop though. He kept sucking your clit and fingering you, your walls contracting on his fingers.

"Oh- Fuck, Dew! Ye... yes!" you moaned, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. "Don't stop," you begged.

He inserted another finger and increased his pace. You felt another orgasm building. It was like if he knew exactly what to do to bring you to the edge. You screamed his name again, hearing another pleasant chuckle coming from him, and this only made he pumped his fingers faster in and out, hitting your spot.

"D... Dew... Please, I can't take it, please," you whimpered, begging. But the reality is that you didn't want him to stop, not even for a minute.

He sucked harder on your clit, bringing it to his mouth, biting it lightly. Letting it go with a loud pop sound, he growled, rolling his eyes in pleasure. He went removed his fingers inside you, replacing them with his tongue. He licked your core from bottom to top, tasting your juices. He lapped up every drop of your previous orgasm, savoring it.

"Fuck, you have the sweetest taste ever," he said with a husky tone. "How can you be so tasty?"

"Dewdrop! Fuck me!" you yelled.

Dewdrop slid his tongue into your entrance, furiously, thrusting his tongue in and out of you. He licked harder, faster, making you scream in pleasure.

"Please, please, please, I can't do it anymore," you whimpered, arching your back. "Please, I need you, I need you dew!"

He shoved his fingers back inside you and pumped you with them. Using his other hand, he rubbed your clit, creating a mix of sensations between your legs.

"Just one more time," he pleaded. "Cum just one more time for me," he said. "Please, you're doing so well, I need you to cum just once more for me."

"Ah! I... I'm go-Oh! Yes! I'm going to cu-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as your orgasm hit you hard. Your muscles contracted around his fingers. You screamed again, and he removed his fingers, licking your core clean.

"I knew you could do it," he said with a mischievously smile on his lips.

You couldn't utter a word, your chest was moving fast as you tried to breath. He climbed onto you, licking your juice from his lips, slowly growing a devilish on his lips.

"Ready to scream my name even louder now?" he asked.

You locked your gaze on his and squeak as you felt his hardness pressing between your wetness. You nodded and he leaned down, taking your lips in a passionately kiss.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

BENEATH MILES OF STONE. XXI ;

🪙 chapter map 🪙 John Wick x Fat Fem Reader 🪙 the very delayed next chapter. i think this story was last updated in march. you guys don’t know how mind blown and grateful and giddy i am to have people connect with me over words and interests and the things i write. please enjoy and let me know what you think and pay attention to trigger warnings. 🪙 TW ; nsfw, violence

John’s a man of his word. Exactly 24 hours after he promises to fix things, and after 24 long hours of being tailed around an assassin hotel by at least eight bodyguards who, thankfully, know the meaning of personal space, he has a solution. 

A solution that he is scowling while telling her about. She tries to ease some of his rage while he talks, takes his boots off and ghosts her fingers up and down his bare back. 

He flips her hand over in his own, examining the pretty metallic black coated over her nails. “Who did this?” 

“Addie,” she says, smiling. “I really like her.” 

He smiles fondly at the shimmery hue. “Making friends?” 

A little giggle and eye roll, and he shudders when she reaches a particularly tender spot. How can she resist spidering back over it?

The uncontrollable way he bucks against her is insanely endearing, her soft touch more potent than bullets, apparently, and she can’t help but tease him about it. “I think I found your kryptonite, John.” 

He tackles her mid-chortle, puts her on her tummy and pins her there. 

“Can’t you just let me winnnn?” She kicks her feet into the mattress. 

“There you go again,” he muses, contemplating tapping the squirm out of her ass. Or biting into it, leaving the ident of his teeth on the plump, pretty flesh. “Trying to use cute as an advantage.” 

“Is it working?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Little bit.” 

God, she’s fucking adorable. It’s painful, this desire to gobble her up, sweeten his belly with sugar and everything nice. “I get this feeling sometimes, that you don’t want to be touched? And if you don’t, that’s okay…But you can tell me.” 

And what would be the harm, especially since she already seems to be inside of him so deeply he’ll never be able to unstick all her pieces from his marrow.

“I want you to touch me,” he says, aching at the prospect of her withholding that. “But I’m not used to it.” Even when he’s fighting, the number of times opponents land a hit are paltry in comparison to his own, and even then he barely feels it. 

Nothing like how soft she is with him. She is the direct opposite of what he’s used to; maybe that’s why he’s so love drunk, enraptured with the novel flavor of compassion. He grimaces at the dimpled red skin on the backs of her thighs, remnants from his rough facial hair, soothes over them with his thumb, unintentionally tickling her. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, squirming under him. “Just tell me if you get uncomfortable, okay?” 

“Okay.” He decides to go back in, because the thought of her avoiding him because of this debacle is terrifying. “I’m not used to losing. I’m not used to giving up control. I’m not good at it.” His monotone catches on a rare high note, and she blinks blankly at him for a moment.

“Have you ever been tied up?” 

He laughs at her suddenly shy, averted gaze. “Yes, I have.” 

“And you can get out of it pretty easily, I’m guessing?” She’s only teasing a little bit, prodding at his inhumane skill levels. 

“Your guess is right.” 

“So, have you ever been tied up in a way you can’t get out of?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You want me to, yknow, tie you up? Make it so you can’t win?” Nervous and writhing, quickly amending this. “You don’t have to, just if you want. I don’t wanna force you into anything and I—“

But he’s lost a little focus, thinking about being at her gentle, teasing mercy. About being bound and open for her, this small, kind thing intent to torture him with sweetness. His cock hardens until it leaks. “I would love that.”

“Yeah?” She asks, beaming up at him. 

He swallows. “Yeah.” 

He lets her up, smooths her hair back, kisses her head. “I need you to come to dinner with me. The Tarasov’s want to meet you, and they will keep you safe if I’m unavailable.” 

“Does Viggo need eight men to replace you, John?” She kisses his palm, thinking of the men in suits trailing her earlier, of the different ones now standing outside of their room. 

“I’m invaluable to him.” There’s really no cocky inclination to that, just a deep guttural sadness, a regret even. 

She pushes his hair back behind his ear. “Viggo needs you.” 

He nods. 

But I want you. This she keeps to herself, watching his lips ghost her knuckles. 

“Does this mean I get to go back to my life? Still with you in it?”

“Yes,” he tells her. “And if I find a way to keep you with me that’s safe, I’ll never leave you.” 

“I’m sorry I’m being like this, but I have responsibilities to other people. Other things. My patients, Michael—“

He shushes her with a peck to her top lip. “I know.” 

“Hm.” She smiles at him, wide, pretty eyes twinkling. “If I’m gonna tie you up, you gotta teach me how.” 

Chuckling a dark kiss to her forehead, he hums in agreement. “Do you have anything formal in your closet?” 

“Define formal?” 

“Dresses.” He pauses, imagining her in a pretty sundress, and his brain gets fuzzy again. 

“John,” she calls, snapping him back into reality. “What kind of dresses?” 

He really is distracted. Rubs the back of his neck, knows what he would like to see her in, something satin and clinging, accentuating her curves just enough to keep him from strangling anyone that looks too long, and then, to match, and underneath, only for him, sheer feminine lace. 

She tries to wait for him to become functional, and loses her patience. “I only have one dress and it’s off shoulder, knee length, flowery. Actually, I dunno if it even fits. It’s from a long time ago…college graduation, I think.”

He longs for the days where his cock was under control. She tries not to notice, eyes looking anywhere but down. 

“Is…that okay?” Big eyes, pursed lips, hopeful little smile. Additionally, then, he longs for the days where his heart was under control. 

“Let’s go get it,” he says. 

——————————————-

Thankfully, and despite lurid, bright visions of her modeling that coveted, pretty college dress for him, he manages to willpower his cock soft before they enter into her apartment where her roommate is busying himself in the kitchen.

“This is him?!” Michael is suddenly very angry, although the other two are very confused as to why. He spins around, and the flour on his neon pink apron fluffs around him. 

Michael marches up to the taller man and points a powdery finger into his chest. “You! John! You’re fucking around with my friend’s feelings?!” 

Before she can intervene on this interaction, Michael does something stupid, unexpected, and altogether horrifying: He slaps John in the face. 

[starryriize]

omg i’d love for woonhak to have delulu thoughts

delulu thoughts | woonhak

a/n: he’s the pookiest teddy bear boy ever! i hope you enjoyed this nonnie <3 i feel like i could've added more but i didn't want to repeat myself 😭 but i really loved writing this!

✧ the type to wear matching couple outfits with you!! thinks you’re both cute and cool in every outfit though <3

✧ goes for random walks with you and you both talk about your day! you complain to him, spill the gossip from school, etc! he also tells you funny stories about his hyungs and you guys just enjoy laughing together 🫶🏼

✧ on that same note, he probably really likes holding your hand :( places soft kisses on the back of it while walking or at any time!

✧ he strikes me as a very thoughtful boy so he’d likely get you meaningful presents on important days of the year. a necklace with his name on your birthday or a brand of chocolates you can never find!

✧ he feels deeply too, so i could see him crying at an inspiring film :( would 100% lay his head on your lap or shoulder! (please tell him that it's just a movie and that he's okay !!)

✧ he most likely has a cute nickname for you on his phone and whenever he talks to you!! 🥹

✧ picks up the little phrases that you use and starts to use them with his hyungs :( gets so shy when people point it out to him!

✧ knows everything about you!! tells you to put him down as your work reference 😭 knows your routines like the back of his hand too! when asked about you, he can talk for hours (his hyungs tease him relentlessly for this)

✧ when he cradles your face gently in his hands while hugging you because you're the most delicate and precious thing in this world to him!! and vice versa!

✧ you make him the happiest boy in the world 😌 making each other laugh even if it is 2:30 am and you got distracted on a movie marathon

✧ doesn't strike me as the type to check his phone when he's with you! he thinks you deserve all his attention in the world so best believe he'll be staring right at you <3

✧ overall, lives life to the fullest especially with you (your relationship is basically a romance movie)!! green flag all the way too :(

[subskz]

Hehe I hadn't sent my innie ask yet it's okay! But now it's here and ahem.

INNIE COLLAR

Literally where do I even start. What is wrong with him. How could he do this to me. To us.

Imagine him ordering it custom somewhere and when it finally comes in he'd be so excited but so shy about showing it to you 😭😭

But oooooh when he does. Take some steps closer and trace over the letters with your finger, pressing down so he feels it pressing against his neck.

"What's this? My puppy got himself a collar?"

And he just looks with his big brown eyes and is so fucking adorable and grrrrrrrrr

"Yeah. Wanna show I belong to you."

SBFJFJDKDKSKXKFF 🤬🤬🤬🤬 I'M GONNA EAT ROCKS ISTFG

That is when you fuck him so hard that he can't move and will absolutely be feeling it in the morning. But he's not gonna be able to think about then when you're overstimulating him and making him cum for the 4th time in a row 🥰 I imagine it's around that time he'd start crying too. Pretty boy. I am deeply unwell, bye 🫡 -🦊

INNIE COLLAR‼️ im glad ur ask made it safe n sound bc those pics still haven’t left my mind…the way he made absolutely sure we paid attention to his collar w those extreme closeups on his neck…he’s a bit ill i think (sidenote the lil freckle on his adam’s apple that’s just begging to be kissed 😵‍💫 there’s nothing to be normal abt here)

the thought of him getting it custom made w his initials is so endearing please 😭 esp when you know innie has trouble wearing chokers bc his neck is so sensitive…sweet puppy is just that excited to be shown off as yours, he doesn’t even think twice abt it. his big brown gaze looks so innocent meanwhile he’s saying things to you that he knows will get him put through the mattress until he’s a sobbing mess, you can tell by the way his eyes gleam when you hook your fingers under the band of his collar and tug him along to the bedroom <3 he might be sore the next day but the dull pain and the marks all over his skin are just another reminder that he belongs to you~

[matenrou-fan]

could you write some nsfw headcanons on doppo, rosho, and sasara being reader's first / taking the reader's virginity? either nb reader or fem reader :) ty

Doppo, Rosho, and Sasara taking their fem! s/o virginity

femreader, fluff, praising, teasing (a little)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Oh no.. He's so nervous right now.

-Honestly, I'm 60-70% sure he's still a virgin. Or at least have very little experience in bed.

-Doppo actually hopes that you would be the one who would lead in bed.. It surprised him how someone so beautiful and charming can still be untouched..!

-"T.. that's okay.." - he mumbled, and honestly it's hard to understand if he says this to calm down you or himself. - "I'm promising to be as gentle as I can, so don't worry, s/o..!"

-He always acts really shy and caring around you, but now he's even more ashamed, as Doppo's afraid to scare you with his awkward actions.. What if he discourages you from having sex ever in your life?!

-Asking after literally every small touch or kiss if you're alright or want him to stop. And of course he gets more nervous when his arms slowly get closer to your hips, fingers playing with your waistband nervously.

-"O.. okay, are you ready..?" - a hot trembling breath tickles the skin of your neck as Doppo softly kisses you here, trying to calm down your fast-beating heart. He was no less worried as his hands slowly took off your last piece of clothing.

-It doesn't matter if he sees you half naked or absolutely naked before, he would freeze for a moment, too mesmerized with your body. Today is a special occasion, after all, and it feels like you two getting to know each other's bodies all over again, but from different angles..

-So.. Of course, a little bit of praise. Doppo absolutely loves when you compliment him, every one of your sweet kind words he keeps deep in his bosom.. So now he would try to praise you too, knowing how much it soothes him..

-"S/o.. You're the prettiest angel I ever see.." - he mumbled shyly. Ah, who's know it's actually so hard to praise someone?! Especially when your head is always full of negative thoughts.. But Doppo wants to be more romantic with you, trying to think about some more poetic words. - "Y.. you know, It's so hard to believe someone so gorgeous is dating me.. You always make me so happy, both with your gentle behavior and such cute face and magnificent body.. So today I will show you how deeply grateful I am and present you with s.. so much pleasure.."

-Will loosen you up with his fingers, really carefully but without any playfulness, as he's not a tease at all. He does think about helping himself with a tongue but at the same time he's too ashamed, knowing he's not that good at it. Also, the way you start clenching around his fingers makes Doppo a little impatient, as he already can imagine how it would feel around his cock.

-Slow and long thrust, as his dick stretches you open wide. You both need some time to get used to this feeling, and Doppo doesn't mind if you will grasp his shoulders too tight or pull his hair, he does understand that even with all his gentleness it's kinda uncomfortable to you.

-Even after you tell him that everything is good now and he can speed up, he continue to be slow and passionate.

-"I..It's your first time, after all.." - Doppo breath heavily, his trembling arm holding your hand tightly. - "And I wants you to remember it as something soft and affectionate… Something full of my love.."

-Another overnervous guy. Did he really will be your first?!

-But he is good in controlling his emtions, so Rosho would try hard to act as calm as he can, and hide his shaking arms as he smiles at you.

-"Don't worry about that too much, s/o.. I will take care of you and make sure it would be a pleasing experience, okay..?" - you can clearly see thick blush in his cheeks as he breath heavily, trying to calm himself down.

-Rosho is more skilled in this things, I think, and he can be really caring, so expect a full romantic evening, with light dinner full of your favorite dishes and maybe even a bath.

-He know that first time is always awkward and kind embarrassment. Rosho wants you to relax as much as you can, minimize all your fears and anxiety so it's would feel more natural and easy when you two move to bedroom.

-Start with light kisses, asking sometimes is everything good. Your hear beating so fast and loud that he can hear that, and his own heart start beating the same rhythm, is this what they called true intimacy of body and spirit, a fusion of souls..?

-Despite Rosho do tries to act more cool and collected right now, the view of your naked body do makes him lose his act a little. Your skin is just so soft, and these little gasps and whimpers when he touches you slowly.. It's enough to send shivers down his spine.

-"S/o.. You're like a goddess.." - he whispers right in your ear and starts kissing your neck, slowly getting down to your chest and then to your hips. He does have a way with words but right now Rosho feels too light headed, as he can feel how much your inner thighs start to tremble under his touches. - "I.. I want to give you all myself.."

-Definitely will go down to you, moving from slow drags on your folds to licks deep inside you. It will not only help to prepare you a little, but also will greatly please you, as Rosho is still a little bit afraid he wouldn't be able to bring you on edge in the main act.

-He just gets so awkward right after pulling off his pants, whimpering as cold air tickles his already hard dick. All his calmness faded away and now a deep red blush covered his cheeks as he looked right at you in the eyes.

-"T.. tell me immediately if something is wrong, okay..?" - he whispers before slowly sinking inside you. Rosho will not hurry up, let you get used to his length inside without any moves.

-Only after you nod slightly, he starts moving, very gently, as he listens to all your little sounds carefully. He does remember how embarrassed his first time was so he keeps soothing you with light touches and soft kisses.

-"M.. It's feels so good, s/o.." - a quiet whimper escaped his lips as he buried his face in your neck, panting. - "I want this night to be endless.. So I can show more and more pleasure to you today.."

-More chill about this (but it doesn't mean he didn't feel some tickling pride in his chest as he realizes he's your first)

-He definitely is not a virgin, but he is kinda nervous about ruining the whole romantic mood of your first time with his puns.

-"Don't think about that too much, s/o, there's nothing scary..! Well, if you don't have a fear of intimacy.." - he nodded with a serious face then giggled. - "Or it's kind of a touchy subject?"

-Sasara wants to be chill and goofy about it so you wouldn't get too nervous and will take everything at ease, but at the same time wants to finally show his more passionate and gentle side, his more deep emotions.

-So he would start with small jokes and giggles, kissing you softly and just playing with your clothes, slowly undressing you both. But when things move to a more intimate moment, he suddenly blush, looking you right in the eyes.

-"I really appreciate that you actually trust me so much, s/o.. You can imagine how glad I am that you decided to share this special night with me.." - Sasara whispers as he gets on top of you, hands slowly caressing your smooth skin as he can't look away from your beautiful chest, soft tummy and trembling hips, such a view just for him. - "... I can't even make a joke right now, uh…"

-Well, but even though he actually just opened his sensitive soul to you, it doesn't mean Sasara wouldn't be playful. Who said you can't be a little tease even during your partner's first time? Wouldn't it just to spice up your anticipation?

-Expect some passionate touches and hungry kisses, as he can feel as your body warms up from his games and oh of course he likes it. And the way you look away with bright cheeks after his small teasing comments.. Precious.

-Also would pay more attention to foreplay, fingers deep inside you, pushing your walls as Sasara cooed to you for being good and taking him so well. You look adorable like that, moaning and biting your lips as you fight the urge to beg for more.

-But he doesn't want to play for too long. After all, Sasara's here to lead you in this new world of pleasure, and when he notices how whiny you get, the main act finally begins.

-"Here, s/o.. You already get a little bit impatient..?" - he giggles as his arms slowly spread your legs more. - "But still, don't get too overwhelmed, okay..? If it would hurt, tell me.."

-Start slowly but don't mind speeding up as soon as you ask him for it, but not that much as he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. Of course after all his teasing you were prepared well and it didn't hurt that much, but Sasara does know that he shouldn't get too wild now.. After all, he doesn't want you to remember the next morning after your first time with a sore body.

-"Enjoy it that much already?" - Sasara chuckled and kissed you, tongues dancing together as he thrust into you again and again. - "Then I don't mind staying awake for the whole night just to extend your pleasure just a little bit more.."

[bung0u-pr3sch00l]

can you please do headcanons of caregiver Fem! Odasaku (or fem kunikida) with regressor Fem! dazai? i’m currently sick and i can’t stop thinking about them, thought don’t pressure yourself tod o it

Fem!Odasaku Caregiver + Fem!Dazai Little Headcanons!

I am deeply sorry for the late reply, anon! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you’re feeling better now!

These are my personal opinions on how they’d interact and be like as a little and a cg that I came up with! :D Feel free to tell me if you disagree with any points or just if you wanna talk about your own headcanons for them ❤️

The edits of the Wan! screenshots are done by me, I hope you like them :3

Odasaku would often try to give Dazai a schedule for naptimes, meals and such but would usually cave in and let Dazai do as she pleases

Dazai begs Odasaku to do her hair, Odasaku complies but isn’t very good at it so it usually ends up being a mess but Dazai’s suuuper happy with it (Hair brushing is fun for Dazai too but not when it pulls at her hair)

Odasaku lets Dazai get away with almost anything

When it comes to Dazai’s regression, Odasaku never questions it and just lets Dazai cope

Dazai regresses to around ages 1-3 or 7-9 at different times

Odasaku never lets Dazai out of her sight, always keeping an eye on her for a multitude of reasons

Despite never showing her emotions, Odasaku finds it nice that Dazai trusts her so much and she enjoys interacting with little Dazai a lot

During points where Dazai might be in a bad mental state, sometimes Odasaku will use positive triggers to try put Dazai into little space to avoid anything bad happening

Odasaku is very much a ‘sit there and watch the little run around until she gets tired or does something stupid’ caregiver

Dazai gets hyper around Odasaku in little space, despite usually being a shy little — She drags Odasaku around to do different activities but if they get separated she might sometimes cry

Dazai insists on ‘I can do it myself’ but really she loves when Odasaku does things for her

Odasaku loves buying baby items and kids toys for Dazai

Dazai finds it funny when Odasaku guesses her mental age wrong and accidentally treats her as the wrong age

When in little space, if she’s not already wearing it or if she took it off, Dazai gets Odasaku to do her tie up for her

Odasaku can be quite strict with making sure Dazai gets the right foods instead of just eating chips and candy, it’s good to find balance!

Sometimes Dazai tries to act big whilst she’s little but Odasaku sees right through it

Dazai calls Odasaku ‘mama’, but it took months of Odasaku being her caregiver for Dazai to stop feeling embarrassed about wanting to call her that

Odasaku loves holding Dazai and giving her cuddles, especially when Dazai just falls asleep so quickly on her lap with just a few cuddles

[the-iceni-bitch]

You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again

Part VIII/X

Pairing: soft!dark (but mostly soft) Alpha!Ransom Drysdale x naive!stepsister Omega reader

Words: ~3.2k

Summary: Ransom should have taken you and run as soon as he admitted his feelings. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself.

Chapter Warnings: A/B/O, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, explicit language, sexual assault, attempted forced bonding, forced unknotting, Alpha fight, talk of medicine and hospitals

A/N: Listen, this is such a dark chapter, you guys. I do feel absolutely horrible about everything I’m going to put these two through over the last chapters, so please don’t hate me. And listen to the warnings!! This could be extremely upsetting, but I have put all relevant warnings up front, in spite of the fact they spoil a lot of the chapter, so be mindful.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“You are so royally fucked.” Curtis shook his head and watched Ransom bury his face in his hands, leaning back in his chair and sucking on his teeth as he thought things over. “Why didn’t you just take her and run?”

“She wants the goddamn ceremony.” Ransom gulped down his coffee and took another shaky breath as he fought the urge to let himself collapse against the table. “And I can’t tell her why it won’t happen. I keep trying but then she looks at me like I’m her whole world and I can’t do it. I thought I had more time.”

“It’s been four weeks, you knew your parents were coming back from DC today, man.” Curtis breathed deeply when the man just gave him a wretched groan. “I don’t know what you want from me, Drysdale. I could’ve gotten the both of you out with time to spare if you hadn’t dragged your feet, but I feel like your best bet is gonna be your grandfather.”

“I can’t talk to Harlan about this.” Ransom frowned as he ran his fingers over the lip of his cup. “He might not kill me, but he has his own fucking strings attached to his help, and I don’t know if that’s any better.”

“Well, you’ll have to do something. I do not envy the next few weeks of your life.” Curtis snorted and flagged down the waitress for some refills. “Can’t believe you fell for your fucking toy.”

“I couldn’t help it.” Ransom downed his fresh coffee and winced when it burned his throat. “You met her, you know what she’s like.”

“Yeah yeah, addictive.” Curtis rolled his eyes as he considered how weak his friend was. “Speaking of which, Lance is still on his fucking bender, so you’ve gotta worry about him trying to kick your ass on top of everything else.”

“That fucking bastard.” Ransom snarled when he thought about how ugly the man’s attitude had turned, wanting to spit at the memory of all the texts he’d gotten from him that detailed how he was going to split your cunt in half before Ransom finally blocked his ass. “Don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him.”

“He doesn’t like feeling left out. Especially when it comes to Omega pussy. You know this.” Curtis sipped on his coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Man can’t stand to hear the word ‘no’.”

You smiled warmly when you heard the elevator coming up to the apartment, smoothing your skirt over your hips and bouncing a little on your toes as you looked forward to seeing Ransom again. Your mate, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and missed him terribly whenever he wasn’t home. Hopefully he would like all the ideas you had for your bonding ceremony, you’d been looking at magazines all morning.

“Hi Ran… oh.” Your smile fell slightly when it wasn’t Ransom who stepped off the elevator, tilting your head at his friend Lance and trying to remain friendly when he gave you a strange look. “Hello Alpha Tucker. Ransom isn’t here.”

“Oh shoot, I was hoping to pick up something he borrowed from me.” Lance licked his lips when you just hummed pleasantly and ducked your head in a shy way, prowling closer to you and breathing in your scent deeply as he clenched his fists at his side. “You’re all by yourself, sweetheart?”

“Mmhm, but he’ll be home soon.” You kept your eyes down when you slid away from him towards the kitchen, feeling his gaze on you and trying not to act too uncomfortable about it. “Do you want some water while you wait?”

“No, thank you.” He was too close to you, you could feel your hackles going up when he scented your hair unexpectedly. “I want what your asshole brother has been teasing me with for months without letting me have a taste.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, he’s not my brother.” You managed to twist away from him again, your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears when he growled at you. “I-I think you should leave, please.”

“You let your brother fuck you, but you cringe when I barely even touch you.” Lance snarled when you recoiled as he tried to grab your wrist. “He owes me, I want to feel that sweet little Omega cunt, and I don’t think you can stop me.”

“P-please don’t talk to me like that.” You choked on a whimper when he just gave you a mocking pout. “Ransom and I are going to be bonded, this isn’t appropriate.”

“Oh, no shit?” Lance laughed when you nodded, tossing his head back then startling you when he lunged in your direction. “That just makes this even better, come here.”

This time you ran away from him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you heard him charging after you and tried to figure out what to do. You couldn’t understand why one of Ransom’s friends would be acting like this, a bond was sacred, that was why they had all helped prepare you for it. He should be happy for you and Ransom and respectful of the promise you’d made to each other, there must be something wrong with him.

You saw your phone and snatched it up as quickly as you could, yelping when Lance almost grabbed you before dodging away from him and sobbing as you tried to dial. All you wanted was your mate, your Alpha, you could feel yourself panicking as Lance kept getting closer and closer to catching you and you were worried you were going to pass out from the fear.

“Hold on, she’s calling me.” Ransom couldn’t stop from smiling slightly when your name came up on his screen. “Hi bunny, what’s going on?”

“Ransom-“ you screamed when Lance finally caught you and threw you to the floor, weeping when he grabbed you by your hair and slapped you across the face when you tried to crawl away. “Please…”

“That’s right you fucking beg me, you little bitch.” Ransom was already on edge but as soon as he heard Lance’s voice he rose to his feet with a snarl, tossing the chair out of his way and storming towards the parking lot while Curtis just gave him a worried look. “You manage to call your brother? That you, Drysdale?”

“Tucker, what the fuck are you doing?” Ransom felt like he was going to snap his phone in half, shaking violently and giving Curtis a ragged look when he caught up to him. “If you fucking touch her…”

“Little late for that, bud. Hold still, slut.” Ransom heard another smack and winced when you sobbed. “You could’ve let me have her months ago, but you had to be a bastard. So I hope you enjoy listening to me break this bitch before I bond her, since you were too stupid to do it yourself. Scream for me.”

You shrieked when he ripped your skirt up around your hips and tore off your panties, sobbing desperately as you tried to close your legs and failed when he knelt between them and grabbed your thighs in a bruising grip. Lance grinned wickedly when you started crying even harder as he spat on your cunt, screwing your eyes closed and turning away from him when he turned the phone on speaker and dropped it next to your head before he pulled out his cock.

“No, you fucking look at me.” Lance chuckled when you did as he commanded, curling over you and licking the tears from your cheeks while you kept whimpering uselessly. “Make sure you’re nice and loud so your ‘Alpha’ can hear you.”

He groaned when he pushed inside you and you wailed, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head while he glared at you and started to fuck you violently. You hated that your body was reacting to him, and that you couldn’t break his gaze while he pounded into you and made you cry even harder as you felt your stomach growing tight.

“Bunny… bunny, I’m sorry.” Ransom shot an absolutely venomous look at Curtis when he told him to hang up the phone so he didn’t have to listen to what Lance was doing, choking on the ugly mess of emotions that were rising in his chest. “I’m not leaving her. That asshole better hope Diskant and the cops get there first, because I’m going to fucking kill him if it’s me. You hear me Tucker? Bunny, just hold on, please.”

“Oh, she’s holding on great, this cunt has the tightest fucking grip I’ve ever felt, shit.” Lance chuckled when you whimpered at him grinding against your clit, slapping you when you wouldn’t let him pry your jaw open then spitting on your cheek when he was able to shove his fingers into your mouth. “You hear how fucking sloppy she is? Can almost understand why you didn’t want to share her. Think she’s gonna come already, what a fucking whore.”

You tried to fight it, but you couldn’t, your body arching while your fists clenched and your toes curled as unwanted pleasure washed over you. As soon as your vision returned to normal you began to break down, shaking and weeping uncontrollably when his face filled your vision and he kept pummeling your sensitive cunt like he hated you. The sound of Ransom’s voice over the phone was barely helping, making you cry more as you longed for him to hold you and tell you this had never happened.

“You know he tricked you? You fucking idiot.” Lance snarled when you whimpered Ransom’s name as the asshole apologized again like a moron. “Just wanted to see how much he could fuck with you and ruin your parents’ plans. No one wants a ‘prepped’ Omega, they want fucking virgins. He didn’t give a fuck about you.”

“Y-you’re lying.” You were bawling at this point, Ransom switching between trying to comfort you and screaming about how he was going to kill Lance as you felt your body betraying you again while his knot started to swell. “Ransom loves me.”

“I do, I love you bunny, don’t fucking listen to him.” Ransom snarled when Curtis practically jumped the curb as he pulled in front of the apartment building, ripping the door open and sprinting inside even as he heard the sound of sirens getting closer.

“Oh, sounds like big brother is home, and perfect timing, fuuuuck.” Lance bellowed when his knot locked him inside you, pumping you full of his cum with erratic jerks of his hips while you gushed slick all over him. “Look at this, so swollen and pretty, gonna look so good with my mark.”

“No, please.” You couldn’t take it when he brushed the tip of his finger over your mating gland, shuddering when he leaned down to smell your neck and gazing towards the elevator when you heard it moving. “Just stop.”

“Pathetic, just like your brother you love to fuck so much.” Lance grinned when you wailed and started struggling again at the feeling of his teeth scraped over your gland. “Can’t wait to see his fucking face when I bond you right in front of him.”

The elevator doors opened and you broke again when Ransom stepped off and saw you still locked with Lance, screaming and trying to push him off when you felt his teeth starting to pierce your skin. You barely had time to register the vicious roar that tore through the air in the apartment before Lance was suddenly ripped away from you, the blinding pain of having his knot forcibly wrenched out of your cunt making you howl as your vision went white and you curled your body in on itself.

Ransom hardly even heard your cry when he wrapped his hand around Lance’s neck and started slamming his fist into his face, snarling and throwing the man into one of the brick columns so hard the whole building seemed to shake. He only had a moment to see Curtis scooping you off the ground and cradling you against his chest before Lance charged him, the bastard landing a solid hit to his jaw and and almost tearing his elbow out of the socket before Ransom wrapped his arm around his middle and slammed him into the floor.

You were still weeping and shivering as you held onto Curtis desperately, begging for your Alpha even as you watched him beat Lance through the floor with both his fists like he really was going to kill him. The elevator door opened again and suddenly the apartment was full of strangers, a Beta and an Omega you didn’t know gently taking you from Curtis and wrapping you in a blanket while he joined one of the police officers in trying to pull Ransom off of your assailant. They weren’t making you feel any better, though, no matter what soothing sounds they made or when the Omega started to try to scent you, you wanted your mate. He was what you needed, Lance lied, he loved you, if he didn’t come to you soon you were going to start screaming and ripping your hair out.

“He’s down, he’s fucking cuffed Drysdale, holy shit.” Paul and Curtis had to both hold Ransom back once they managed to pry him away from Lance, the two of them watching him warily while he kept glaring at Lance’s bruised and bloodied form while the cops dragged him away. “Calm down, shit, come over here:”

The Beta who was helping you managed to flag Paul and he pulled Ransom over to you, both he and Curtis relaxing once the man set eyes on you and his face softened as he fell to his knees in front of you and sobbed. They let him pull you into his arms when you mewled for him, allowing him to start scenting you obsessively as you wept in his arms and he crooned to try to soothe you.

Ransom hated how you looked, hated the bruises on your face and how you winced when you tried to move the leg Lance had dragged you down by and the handprint around your throat. He almost lost it again when he noticed the blood that was smeared on your thighs, rumbling into your neck instead even though the thought of that asshole’s knot ripping you apart made him want to go and finish what he’d started. His chest was aching from how wretched he felt at you being in pain, growling when he saw the Beta from the critical response team reaching for you and wrapping you tighter in his arms.

“They have to take her to the hospital.” Paul stood well back from Ransom since he was still so keyed up, and trying to invade his space while he was comforting his injured mate didn’t seem like the best idea. “But you can go in the ambulance with her.”

“That’s not…” the Beta sighed when Diskant gave her a meaningful look, nodding and radioing the rest of the team to let them know the situation before standing up. “Come with us.”

You clung to Ransom as he carried you down to the ambulance, whimpering into his chest when there were even more Alpha police officers outside and you started to feel distressed again before he started scenting your hair. They could barely get you away from him to strap you onto the gurney, but he stayed with you and calmed you down and as soon as they started driving he was rubbing his face against the insides of your wrists and holding your hand and you felt less hysterical.

Reaching the hospital didn’t take as long as he wanted it to, the desire to keep scenting you and get rid of that fucker’s stink overwhelming even as they pulled into the ambulance bay. Your fingers were still wound tightly with his while they rolled you into the trauma ward and you were swarmed with doctors and nurses. They kept trying to pull you away from him and you cried every time, shivering and pulling him closer and not paying any attention to the frustrated sighs they kept letting out when you shook your head each time they asked him to leave.

“Sweetie, we have to take pictures of you.” The Beta doctor that had finally come in seemed to have the greatest measure of patience, giving you space after a nurse took your blood and letting you lean your head on Ransom’s chest while your sobbing started to calm down. “That could upset your Alpha, and he has injuries that need to be looked at. Would you be okay if one of us takes him into the next room so we can help both of you?”

“I don’t…” you saw the split skin on Ransom’s knuckles and the blood that was smeared across his face, reaching up to touch the bruise on his jaw and sniffling when he winced. “Just, you’ll be right next door?”

“Right next door, promise.” The doctor nodded at Ransom when he kissed your forehead before separating from you, letting one of the nurses lead him away before she stepped closer to you and took your hand gently. “And he’ll be back so soon.”

You just whimpered and sat up slowly, Ransom getting one last look at you shaking and letting the doctor look at your bruises before the door to the room swung shut. Ransom had trouble relaxing being apart from you, even though he knew they were helping you and that he would have probably gone into another frenzy if he had to see the full extent of your injuries. He kept thinking he heard you cry, though, and the fact that he would jolt every time he did was making the nurse who was working on cleaning his knuckles exasperated. Even though it only took maybe ten minutes it was too long, Ransom just grunting and storming back to your room while they tried to give him instructions about taking care of his wounds.

“She’s alright, we gave her a sedative.” The doctor tried to reassure Ransom when he immediately sat next to your bed and started nuzzling your cheek while you rested. “She should recover well physically, but I want to make sure she gets counseling. I’ll come back with some referrals and to go over some other things once everyone else is here.”

“Who the hell else is coming?” Ransom brushed your hair out of your face and pressed his lips to yours when you sighed deeply.

“We had to call her emergency contact, it’s procedure.” The doctor didn’t seem to notice the way Ransom tensed up, reviewing your chart as she started to back out of the room. “Her father should be here any minute.”

[heatwa-ves]

please explain your izuleo playlist with as much detail as you want im interestedddd

MIKIIII THANK YOU. okay here's my playlist and im gonna do a song by song breakdown... I'll try and keep it decently brief so this doesn't become one million words but we'll see. my playlist is vaguely chronological so it starts pre-checkmate!

astroboy- suggi

okay so this one is just straight up a leo song. you just have to listen to it it's literally about him "I raised my hands up real high, they called me stupid when I asked why we couldn't fly. am I too far ahead of my friends, or I am late?" hellooooo hello. hi. leo tsukinaga everyone!!!! right down to the moon/space theming

"oh, the rain, you're losing your flame, where'd the burn, the passion go? you run through the pain, you're losing your aim, and you feel like you alone missed the grow" LITERALLY about his breakdown post checkmate. uagh.

cheerleader- ashnikko

an izumi song!!! I don't have to explain anything here you get the vibes

brand new city- mitski

having to preface this by saying I do not listen to mitski this is the only song of hers I listen to and only because it makes me think of izumi so much I feel like throwing up.

"If I gave up on being pretty I wouldn't know how to be alive, I should move to a brand new city and teach myself how to die." yeah. izumi sena.

yoru ni kakeru- yoasobi

well I'm sure you know this song and the story behind it "the seduction of thanatos" I think it works very well about the izuleo dynamic around this time when they're very codependent and leo is so severely depressed and suicidal. they're fucked up 👍

it's all so incredibly loud- glass animals

so this one makes me think of izumi going to see leo in a similar vein to lionheart but probably before that and he sees leo so broken and neither of them can bring themselves to say anything. "I tried, for you and I, for too hard, for too long" makes me think of the ending scene of lionheart and so on

softcore- the neighborhood

"you've been my muse for a long time, you get me through every dark night. I'm always gone, out on the go, I'm on the run and you're home alone"

"every time I kiss you, baby, I can hear the sound of breaking down"

you get it. you see the vision. more depression era stuff.

less of you- keshi

depression era leo... there's so many lines in this song that correlate to them but a fav is "too much time in the limelight, gimme your all on the land line, want it so bad but I won't lie and it just gets worse in the night time."

are you happy? - shy martin

"and I know I thought that pain's part of love, but I think I broke you, though I didn't mean to. but are you happy, looking back at us when you met me? would you go back and tell yourself to leave it, knowing what we know?" UARFGHBHBB izumi.... who killed cock robin ass song.

from now on we are enemies - fall out boy

I've talked about this one EXTENSIVELY before but it really is just a song about leo tsukinaga. what else can I say.

always- keshi

well yk.

bad thoughts- half alive

i love when they hate eachother. they don't actually truly hate eachother but man sometimes it feels like it. everything hurts. "like a time you gave your all but just got hurt, like a crack in the mirror bringing out your worst"

to everyone who wants to die- takayan

read the translation oh my goddddd. leo. leo

sing to me- missio

this is a song I DREAM of making an animatic to its just so deeply fundamentally leo

never ending song- conan gray

okay this one is a bit more specific but I like to think of leo while he's out of school seeing izumi in a magazine or an ad or something.. and that brings with it a whole ton of complicated feelings

"but we've grown too close, now it can't amount to nothing. I can hear your voice in the music on the radio, and it goes on and on and on, like a never-ending song" you get ittttt

bodybag- chloe moriondo

more of the vibes more of the complicated feelings . this one is mostly here bc I love it and was thinking about izlo while listening icl. unrelated but chloe moriondo is cool as hell they have some awesome music videos especially the one for this song

love or the lack thereof - isaac dunbar

the epitome of pre/early ! izlo love. to meeee also I just love love loveeee it as a song

last minute - kitty

"you're the loop of rope I hung up in my stupid closet" "you're all poised and im made of poison" do you get it do you GET it. it's leo about izumi frfrfrrr

"could you wrap your hands all the way around my neck, and tell me where I stand, tell me everything I'm wrecking when I spin. take over my breath, in out in, I am missing you to death"

android girl- deco*27

I love this song and while I love the original im partial to rachies english cover especially the lines

"we restart and fall apart together, what we have will drag on in this way forever"

"make it stop, make it stop there's so much guilt and regret, I don't get how I can forget and start to hope again, we haven't even come to the end, so much for promising together forever, we aren't even friends"

the girl in my memories- jeebanoff

"in place of your fleeing love, only my sad solitude remains, even though that time won't come again, the memories that are gone, are forever" more depression yaaay

achilles come down- gang of youths

SORRY it's just such a compelling look at depression and being suicidal... so many of these songs are about Leo's depression but I swear this part of the playlist is over soon and moves further in the timeline. I really love this song it's just... everything about it... leo is achilles here of course and the voices talking him down and telling him to go through with it are his family/izumi and his own mind/the students from school respectively.

calender girl- stars

"all of the things that I thought were so easy just got harder and harder each day. december is darkest, in june there's the light, but this empty bedroom won't make anything right, while out on the landing a friend I forgot to send home, who waits up for me all through the night- calendar girl who's in love with the world, stay alive"

HEALING!!!!! GROWING AS A PERSON!!!!!! OVERCOMING DEPRESSION!!!! DO YOU GET IT

"I dreamed I was dying, as I so often do, and when I awoke I was sure it was true. I ran to the window, threw my head to the sky, and said "whoever is up there, please don't let me die," but I can't live forever, I can't always be, one day I'll be sand on a beach by a sea"

crush of judgement- knights killers

i don't need to explain this one

move me- half alive

THE izuleo song THE reason I made this playlist. won't you be my song when I cant dance WON'T YOU BE MY SONG WHEN I CANT DANCE!!!!!!!!!!!! LIGHT MY FIRE BURN THE TREES!!!!!!!!! also watch the music video it's gorgeous

the third heart- harumaki gohan

first of all go play genei ap rn it's a short mobile game created by this artist featuring lots of their songs about a reserved girl who loves music and her more extroverted friend who asks her for song recs. it's a very izuleo vibes game and just a beautiful game in general I think you'll love it sm mikiii

second of all.... just. this song. play the game and watch the music video for the full impact frfr 🫶 anyway back to izuleo

back around- half alive

depression never truly leaves but you get better!! it gets better!!! there are bad days but there are so so many good days!!! this whole album is kinda izlo vibes

you get me so high- the neighborhood

"you're my best friend I'll love you forever" 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 makes me think of them... kind of talking about their past .... not very well because they have no emotional maturity but still.

silent oath- knights

for obvious reasons

reunion- harumaki gohan

I imagine this is after the end of ! era .. they've both grown and matured immensely as people.. it'd probably have more impact if I read requiem but um..... I'll get to it... (I've been saying this for a year and a half) to me it's a goodbye to their teenage years and the ups and downs and them moving forward into adulthood and a more stable relationship

don't be so hard on your own beauty- yeule

they help eachother heal 🥹. this one is a bitttt more reliant on some of my takes on izumi that I don't really wanna get into rn but yk. it's here. it's vibey. things were bad and now they are better. there's sunlight streaming though their apartment window. they don't have anywhere else to be this morning. yk.

work of art- downer Inc, kellin quinn

ueeeghhvhb they love eachother.... izumi brings leo inspiration.... these descriptions are getting less and less coherent

I swear ill never leave again - keshi

ueeeeueueueuehhhehhehhehuuueueue

infinitely ordinary- the wrecks

I like the romance of mundanity.. I think they could be happy.. it's very hopeful and a good ending to the playlist

[feyhunter78]

Hi, this is my first request (ever), I was wandering if you could write a one shot of RoP Elrond/fem! reader where the reader is really good with kids but Elrond is kind of awkward around them. While he's working group of small children come and interrupt Elrond and the reader finds Elrond in this predicament and shoos them away, causing Elrond to fall more in love with the reader than he already was.

AHHHHH thank you for allowing me to be the first person you request from!!! I feel so honored <3 Here is a little oneshot for you my love, I hope you like it!!!!!

Curious Minds

It is not that Elrond does not enjoy children; in fact, he very much enjoys them. Their curiosity and joy is infectious, and he loves to see the future of his people exploring their paths and becoming men and woman that pursue their own passions and become great leaders, artists, generals, healers, and scholars.

The issue is that he does not understand how to be around them. They ask many questions and do not wish to sit still long enough for the answer, they have too much energy, and they have an insatiable appetite for destruction—even the well-behaved ones!

So when a group of children approaches him while he is sitting beside the river working on the High-King’s newest speech, he’s unsure of how to proceed.

“You are Lord Elrond, the High-King’s Herald, yes?” One asks.

Before he can answer, another pipes up. “Do you enjoy your job?”

Again, he tries to answer.

“Where is your wife? I thought all the Lords had ladies?”

His cheeks tint pink as he scrambles to come up with an answer as all the children latch onto that particular question, clambering for his response, their curious eyes staring up at him impatiently.

“Perhaps it is because he read too much, my mother said I would never find a husband if all I do is stay inside and read.” A young elven girl says, a pout on her lips, her brown hair in a simple braid.

“I do not think that is true, I would like a wife who reads, then we could talk about our favorite stories.” A boy her age says, his cheeks slowly blossoming a bright red as he scoots closer to the pouting girl.

“We already do that, Melis.” She says annoyed before her friends begin to tease her, and she drops her gaze to the ground.

“Melis and Vya are married!” One of the other children shouts, causing the others to take up his words.

Soon it is a fervent chant and Elrond is frantically looking around trying to find a way to escape this gaggle of tiny chanters.

“Children, how many times must I tell you not to wander off during garden time?” A melodic voice breaks through the high-pitched chanting, and Elrond stands abruptly, sensing an escape.

You hurry up the path, brow furrowed with worry that only dissipates when you see all the children are accounted for. “And you have been bothering the Lord Herald? That is quite inappropriate, please apologize to Lord Elrond.” Your voice is stern and the children’s faces fall.

“It—they were no bother, truly.” Elrond stutters, inclining his head towards you.

“Lord Elrond, please, do not speak falsehoods to cover for these troublemakers.” You warn playfully, the children already gathered around you, some clinging to your skirt for comfort.

“I speak plainly, they merely had questions for me.” He reiterates, giving you a shy smile.

You smile back at him. “Oh, is that so?”

“We wished to know why he was not married.”

A look of shock flashed across your face. “I—Lord Elrond, I am deeply sorry, I swear to you, I do not teach the children to ask such personal questions.”

Elrond waved his hand dismissively. “I am not offended.”

You bent down and directed the children to return to their classroom before approaching Elrond. “You must forgive them; we are learning about courtship rituals, and they are merely curious.”

Elrond nodded, then gathered his courage, taking your hand and pressing it to his lips. “Perhaps I might declare my intention to court you, then? Allow us to further our knowledge of each other and give the children a more personal example?”

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you nodded. “That would be wonderful.”

“I shall come collect you from your quarters at seven, then, for a walk in the gardens.” He smiled then bowed slightly, taking his leave.

You did then same, the both of you smiling brightly as you made your way back to your individual duties.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace