#STILL UNSURE ABOUT MY BLUE DESIGN

[vbecker10]

My Alien

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship

Summary: Loki and you have been together for almost six months and he has finally opened up to you about being a frost giant. He worries you won't love him the same after he shows you his Jotun form for the first time but you are determined to make him realize you love him no matter what.

A/N: This was originally going to be a section in Part 4 of Talk to Me but I couldn't quite get it to fit so I pulled it out and adjusted it to get this... hope everyone likes it 💚

You sit next to Loki on the couch, watching him silently as he shifts from his Jotun form back into his Asgardian form. He keeps his eyes lowered, avoiding your gaze until his illusion is fully in place. He slowly looks up at you and you can see the worry in his eyes.

You touch the pale skin on his cheek lightly, "Loki, I love you."

Those are the first words you have said since he finally decided to shift in front of you. You watched quietly as his skin turned a deep blue, intricate designs traveled across his skin in thin ridges. You wanted to trace them with your fingertips lightly but you were unsure of how Loki would react. He took a slow, deep breath before lifting his head to look at you. Your eyes locking with his crimson eyes only briefly before he looked away again. He only remained in his Jotun form for a minute, two at most before he shifted back.

"I love you, too," he says despite the fear quickly building in him.

You smile genuinely, "Please don't look so worried." He smiles but your heart aches at how forced it seems. "Thank you telling me about Odin and Laufey. I can't imagine how hard it must have been to go through all of that alone. I wish I had known you then, I wish I could have helped you see that you aren't like either of them and you deserved to be treated so much better."

He nods, his eyes focusing on his hands as he rubs them nervously. You cover his hands with yours and he looks up again. "Look at me, I want to tell you something and I need to make sure you hear me," you say.

"What's that darling?" he asks, trying to push away his concerns.

"This doesn't change anything between us, nothing ever will I promise. You are still the man I fell in love with, whether you are from Asgard or Jotunheim or some other realm I've never heard of," you watch the fear gradually fade from his eyes.

"I want you to keep talking to me about this if you need to, I'm here to listen and tell you Odin was an ass and a bad father," you tell him and he chuckles lightly at your offer although you mean it sincerely. From all you had heard so far, you were all to happy to never met Asgard's king.

"Don't forget, you will always be my favorite alien, no matter what," you add with a grin.

Loki laughs and shakes his head but you smile wider, as he appears less tense, "I beg your pardon, but did you just call me an alien?"

"You are an alien," you tell him matter of factly.

"My dear sweet mortal, I am a god," he says, the confident Loki you love returning swiftly as he puts his long arm around your waist.

"Mmhmm..." you hum and roll your eyes dramatically. He loves to remind you of that.

"And don't forget, I am a prince in not one but two realms," he adds with a smirk.

"Exactly, because you were born on a different planet- or realm or whatever you call it and that makes you an alien but that wasn't my original point," you laugh.

"What was your point then?" he asks.

"That I love you, every bit of you no matter where you are from or who your father is," you tell him. "I loved you when I thought you were an Asgardian and I will love you the same now that I know you are a Jotun because you are still you. You are still my Loki."

He leans forward and kisses you, your hands grip the fabric on the back of his shirt to pull him closer to you. When he breaks the kiss, he touches your cheek softly, "I love you Y/N."

You smile, "I love you, my alien."

He chuckles again, "That is the last time you will call me that." Before you can argue that it is accurate, he shifts you both so you are laying on your back on the couch and he is positioned above you. He presses his lips to yours fiercely as his body settles on yours.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv

[clowncryptids]

Rainbow Dash concept! They are still a Griffin (peregrine falcon & a cheetah) like my last design but I changed their coloring! [note: Dash in this au uses He/they pronouns]

I’ve seen some ppl use a darker storm-gray for RD and I love it! It also works really well for this Dash bec it matches the coloring of peregrine falcons a lot better! Also I’m thinking about changing Rarity to a light blue, and making RD gray makes each of the 6 have different colors (or at least close to that)

I’m unsure about Dash’s spots they are both too much and too little? Idk :P

Anywaysss Rainbow Dash as usual is the hardest design to draw why did I make him half bird OUGH

[bahrtofane]

blue thobe and tea

Jude but he’s your husband and it’s Eid. yay !

word count - 1.3K+

watch it - eid chaos and shenanigans

p.s. -Count this as my Eid gift to yall ! 

The clock reads a brisk 6:00 am, and you're late. Well, behind schedule. But still. 

Running around trying to find your shoes ( you swore you left them at the door but whatever) last minute ironing of clothes and fitting cookies in tupperware because the 50 you prepared isn't nearly enough. You've been in and out of the kitchen checking on the tea that's been steeping, brewing and boiling since you woke up.

You're still in your bath robe, clutching it closed while you do laps around your home. You left Jude still in bed, and he soon wakes at the commotion you're creating. 

Your ever-patient husband appears in the doorway with a bemused expression. His hair is much less neat than he likes and sleepy eyes only add to his charm. "What time even is it?" he grumbles, clearly not thrilled about the rush.

You glance at the clock, "We're running behind schedule," you admit, crossing your arms and shaking your head. 

Jude steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, “We'll make it work," he reassures, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

You relax, even for a second, sighing softly. 

“I don't want to be late late,” you grumble into the crook of his neck.

He coos at you, petting your hair and promising he'll be extra quick getting ready.

You smile, eyes crinkling while sending him off to shower. In the time he takes to get showered, ready, changed. You've found your shoes, heels now clanking as you finish the last bit of prep.

The tea is ready, poured into each thermos and set on the table. Jude steps out of your bedroom in the cutest blue thobe and your heart swoons.

“My handsome man,” you press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Think so?” He gives you a little spin. 

"You clean up nicely," you tease, giving him a playful nudge.

He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist,"Only for you, my love," he replies, planting a kiss on your lips.

You hum, “think you can get the thermos in the car?’

“Of course baby, “

As Jude heads out to the car with the thermos, you take a moment to admire him from behind. The way his thobe drapes over his frame, the confident stride in his step—it all makes your heart swell with pride. How lucky are you?

With a soft sigh, you clean up the last few things around your house. Washing the dishes, tucking plates inside the dishwasher, cleaning up the aftermath of your tea making, fluffing out your table cover, and sliding your house shoes snug against the wall. 

You get ready yourself. Not too much time as your dress slides off of its perch on your hanger. You do a quick once over in the mirror of your bathroom. Your makeup is good to go, your outfit is perfect. Things worked out after all. 

Your clock now reads 7:22. Relatively on schedule. You told your family you should get there around 8:30. 

You grab your purse, Judes sunglasses, the tupperware of cookies and head outside, locking the door behind you. The sun is beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the neighborhood. Dew still clings to the blades of grass that span your front yard.

 Jude ducks into his designated seat, your passenger princess, holding his hands open for the tupperware as you slide it into his lap. His glasses go on top of his head, seat belt clicking softly as you make your way to the drivers side. 

Jude is giddy as you make your way to your famed family eid event. He used to be nervous out of his mind, unsure of where to fit in. half the time you found him standing off to the side. Until your cousins forcefully made him join monopoly (its eid tradition okay). 

And even since then he's been more or less of a monopoly fiend, getting way too fired up than what's probably acceptable for a monopoly game but who cares. If he's having fun that's all you could really ask for.  

As you drive to your destination, Jude hums along to the radio, occasionally reaching over to squeeze your hand or steal a quick kiss at a red light. 

“You're so clingy,” you huff. Rolling your eyes playfully but leaning into each kiss nonetheless. 

“Yeah yeah and you love it.” he shrugs. 

You can't argue with that. 

“Think you'll win this year?” He knows what you mean. Monopoly of course.

“Of course I will. Tell your cousin I don't care how many times he moves his pieces when I'm not looking I will win.” he rubs his hands together. 

“You do that. I'm gonna play chess.” you nod. 

“You're really missing out you know.”

“I'm really not, those fiends of property will not be coming near me.”

“Baby.” he laughs.

“Hm?”

"You're gonna have to fix your lipstick kinda smudged it.” he giggles.

You quickly look into your rearview mirror, “you did a number on me.”

He only laughs harder. Ah the sweet sound of Eid fun. You love Eid.

When you finally arrive at your destination (and fix your lipstick) , your cousin's house is alive with the sounds of laughter and greetings. She got to host this year. You think next year will be yours and Judes. You have some remodeling to finish this year. 

You and Jude are greeted warmly by friends and family, exchanging hugs and well wishes. You snort at your younger family members who wait for their Eid money. This year it's Jude who gives it out. Taking his wallet out and kneeing to eye level with the kids as they get their gift for the day. 

You find your cousin, knee deep in dishes in the kitchen already.

“There you are,” she beams, kissing your cheeks and wiping her hands dry. She pulls out a kitchen chair and hands it to you. You take a seat gladly. 

“You look busy.” you raise a brow. 

“You think?” she huffs. 

You raise your hands up, “hey it's not even tea time yet what's with the dishes.”

“Cookies I didn't finish this morning.” she groans, heading back to the sink.

You get up out of her seat and push her out of the way, “go greet your guest you idiot i got it here.”

She sighs, heading off to greet the growing crowd of people that fill her home. 

You finish in a few minutes, organizing what you can before finding Jude surrounded by kids who throw various sports balls for him to juggle. He's doing pretty good, laughing as each ball gets increasingly more outrageous. Golf balls? Where did they get golf balls? 

You take a few videos before he calls it quits and joins you to do your round of greeting the new arrivals.

Throughout the day, you and Jude enjoy the festivities, indulging in delicious food, sharing stories, and making cherished memories. He ends up winning monopoly, go figure. Chess ends in a stalemate and you have a stare off with a family friend that sits opposite to you in the living room. Next time you both agree silently. 

Lunch has been served along with a large array of sweets with tea, (yours was a hit). Jude preens at the praise that comes your way, boasting of how amazing you always make it, that your hands are just naturally sweet. 

You swat his chest, scurrying away while he continues to any and everyone that will listen to him. 

“That man is obsessed with you,” your cousin appears again, tea in hand. 

“Isn't he?” you snort. 

“I hope you guys host next year.” she gives you a nudge with her shoulder.

“Me too. You did great this year.” 

“Don't leave the cookies last minute like me though,” she grumbles before melting back into the crowd.

As the day draws to a close and you head home, hand in hand with Jude, you can't help but smile at the thought of many more Eids to come, spent with the love of your life.

You're thinking of getting him a pink thobe for next Eid, good idea no?

[lovelytsunoda]

proud mary // han lue

summary: now living a quiet life with their daughter, han and y/n reflect on how they got there, and all the good moments that are still yet to come.

pairing: han lue x wife! reader

warnings: this is a big one so listen up: mentions of post pregnancy mental illness, mentions of pregnancy and starting a a family, weddings, ignoring tokyo drift canon because I fucking can, (actually I ignored a lot of canon) han is about to activate a shit ton of daddy issues

I left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day and I never lost one minute of sleeping, I was worrying 'bout the way the things might've been.

big wheel keeps on turning, proud mary keeps on burning. and we’re rolling, rolling, rolling down the river

2009, tokyo, japan.

the garage was dark, lit only by the moonlight and the small lamps atop the workstations. han lue had closed up hours ago, and everyone was gone save for him and his lover.

“han, what are you doing?” y/n laughed, sitting at a table scattered with nail polish bottles and a shellac brisa light. “it looks like a smudge.”

“it’s a drifting car!” han laughed, staring through the large magnifying glass that was allowing him to see the design he was attempting to paint on his lovers thumbnail. “see, there’s the spoiler and those are the headlights!”

friday night manicures had become somewhat of a tradition. y/n hated painting her nails with her non dominant hand, but she also didn’t speak enough japanese to venture out and get her nails professionally done. when she and han started dating, he offered to do it for her, easing the aggravation that sometimes came with doing mail designs yourself.

“well, now that you’ve pointed it out.” she laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

they had been together coming up on two years. two long, wonderful years. she was a mechanic and he was drifter, it was almost meant to be. she stopped him from getting himself killed, and in return, he loved her unconditionally.

they were sympatico like that. she loved his sense of humour, his protectiveness. he loved her smarts and the excited way she talked, animatedly and with hand gestures.

“what do you say we get out of japan for a bit?”

han should have known this question was coming. y/n was a restless spirit, never meant to stay in one place for too long. in a way, han was as well. he could tell that his lover had been more restless than usual, either from missing home or needing a change of scenery.

“a friend of mine, his name is dominic torretto, he’s got this place down in the dominican republic.” han started slowly, unsure of how much he wanted to involved her in. y/n was his whole world, and what dom and mia would be running was far bigger than street racing in shibuya.“he called me the other day wondering if I would run a job with him. but it’s not entirely legal and I don’t blame you if you don’t want any part in it.”

“baby,” she frowned, placing her hand inside the blue light machine. “of course I’ll go with you. I never pass up a chance to go somewhere sunny, and you know that I’d go anywhere with you. what we’re running here with twinkie and sean isn’t exactly legal either, you know. I’m a big girl, seoul-oh. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I just want you to know what you’re getting into. you’re important to me, y/n.”

“I know.” she said softly, running her hand up his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, gently kissing his neck. “so when does our flight leave?”

“whenever you want it to. I haven’t even bought the tickets yet. are you ready for an adventure?”

“fuck yeah.” y/n smiled, pressing her lips to his. “but you have to paint my other nails first.”

han laughed, the kind of laugh that would always set loose the butterflies in y/n’s chest, the kind that reminded her why she fell in love with him in the first place.

“I don’t think I have it in me to paint another drifting car.”

“then what are you going to paint on my thumbnail?” y/n laughed back, looking down at her nails and realizing that her lover had actually done a very good job painting a drifting car manicure.

“I don’t know,” han shrugged. he would deny it if asked, but he actually loved painting y/n’s nails. he thought it brought them closer together, built up intimacy in their relationship.

they were moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“I’ll just do like a checkered flag or something.”

“but you did that on my index finger!”

laughing, y/n turned her head to kiss him. “come on, you big dork. the sooner we get my nails done, she sooner I can model that new lingerie set I bought last weekend.”

“sold!” han laughed, knocking over bottles of gel polish as he searched for the bright pink he had used to paint the car on his girlfriends other hand. “drifting car? f1 car? whatever my gorgeous gorgeous girl wants.”

“I love you, han lue.”

“love you more, pretty girl.”

2010, monte carlo, monaco.

it was set up to be another sleepless night without her lover by her side, and y/n was having none of that as she wandered the deck of the comfortable yacht, looking around at the decorations that the crew had spent the day putting up.

she was just praying that it wasn’t going to rain.

nothing was about to spoil her big day.

she scurried below deck, past a half open door through which she could hear roman pearce’s guttural snores. fingers curled around the door knob, she tried not to make any noise as she eased the door open, slipping into the cabin.

“you couldn’t sleep either?” she laughed, looking at the king size bed where her fiancé lay, phone in his hands as he texted his mother, who the crew was picking up in the harbour in the morning before the ceremony began.

“got a lot on my mind.” han shrugged. “fucking tej won’t shut up about the reception and the playlist and I’ve told him a million times that it’s not going to be some crazy rave kinda thing.” the man sat up, gesturing for his soon-to-be wife to come closer. "it's doing my head in. seriously, he wants to do a club mix of 'i would do anything for love'."

y/n snorted. han thought she looked like an angel in the low cabin light, a halo glowing around her head and shining off her white silk pajamas, the ones with the tiny shorts and 'bride' embroidered on the butt. "how the fuck do you turn the best meat loaf song in existence into a club rave song?"

"the fuck if i know." han shook his head, hands sliding up her thighs as she came to stand in between his legs. "jagi, sarang-hae."

honey, i love you.

"mhm." she hummed, a smile on her lips as she leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "i love it when you speak korean. it's so fucking sexy."

the last year had been stressful. the dominican job had been way more complex than y/n had expected, and it took a while for han's old crew to warm up to her. it took a while, but eventually she managed to crack dom toretto, and two weeks later, han got down on one knee and asked y/n to marry him.

hence why they were on a yacht off the coast of monaco, the entire thing decked out in fairly lights and tulle.

"if you think tej is bad, you try getting in between letty and those large plastic ribbons on the back of the deck chairs." y/n laughed. "who knew letty ortiz was so serious about weddings?"

she was practically sitting on his lap now, head resting comfortably on his shoulder as the boat rocked back and forth.

han seoul-oh was her home. her safe harbour. she always felt safe in his arms, at his side, even when they were plunging into almost certain danger like they had in the dominican.

"i brought you something." y/n hummed, reaching into the pockets of her shorts and withdrawing the small cardboard packet.

"fake nails?"

"help me put them on? for old time's sake." she passed him the glittery white french tips, no doubt chosen to match her dress for the ceremony tomorrow.

"i can't wait to spend my life with you. and believe me, there will be plenty more manicure mondays."

2014, monterrey, california.

"daddy, where's mommy?"

"i don't think she's feeling well, poppy." han lue frowned, looking over at his daughter, who was perched in her little kiddie chair at the kitchen table. "i'm going to go check on her, okay? stay right here."

how do you explain depression to an infant? poppy jae-i han had been one of the best things to have ever happened to han seoul-oh. but in the almost twenty-four months since their bundle of joy had been born, something had felt off about his wife.

everyone hears about the mental health complications that can come with childbirth, but no mother ever thinks it would be her.

every husband fears it, too.

"y/n, jagi?" han tried to keep his voice level as he eased open the bedroom door. the couple had bought a ranch house in monterrey when they learned they were expecting. it was one of the few things they used their ill-gotten gains as a part of dom's crew for. "poppy's asking for you."

it broke his heart to see his wife like this, hair messed and greasy, red splotches under her eyes from where she had been crying.

"am i a bad mother, seoul-oh?" she asked, voice small. she seemed so tiny and fragile underneath the layers of blankets on the queen bed. "she always seems to cry when i'm around, but never with you. poppy loves you more than she loves me."

"what?" it was all han could do to stop himself from crying as he sat on the bed, gently running his fingers through y/n's hair. "sweetheart, what's brought this on? poppy loves you. you're her mom. she needs you."

"mia makes it look so easy." y/n sniffled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. she's lost weight. not a noticeable amount, or even an unhealthy one, but enough that her husband knows. there are many things that you can hide from the man you share your bed with, but han knows. he knows she's not doing well. "and i'm fucking shit at it, han."

"look at me, pretty girl." han encouraged, reaching for her hands. "you are such a good mother. i know you're struggling right now, and i know you're hurting but you need to know that poppy loves you so much. she was asking about you over breakfast, you know."

"i don't know who i am any more. i've lost my sense of self."

han frowned, brushing a few strands of greasy hair away from her forehead before leaning down and gently kissing her hairline.

"listen, i was talking to brian last night-"

"of course you were fucking talking to brian."

"-and he thinks you should talk to mia. they're passing through town today on their way back from dom and letty's, brian and i are going to take the kids out to the zoo or whatever, and you and mia should do something." he suggested, running his hand comfortingly up and down his lover's back. "go to the mall, get a coffee. i think she could really help you. she's been through this before."

y/n inhaled shakily, pulling away from han. "what if something happens to poppy and i'm not there?"

"y/n, everything is going to be okay. i promise. brian will be there, the kids will be in great hands. go do something with mia, darling. find yourself again, yeah?"

"okay." y/n nodded, still clutching his hand like it was her lifeline. "i can do that."

"mommy?" a small voice called. poppy had managed to get herself all the way from the kitchen to the master bedroom, where han had left the door ajar just in case poppy needed them. "are you okay?"

"oh, sweetheart, come here." y/n said, tears beginning to fall.

because how could she ever think that her little bundle of joy didn't love her as much as she did? poppy waddled over to the bed, and han hefted the toddler onto the mattress so that y/n could pull her close.

"you know that mummy loves you, right?"

"yes. i love you too, mommy."

"see." han smiled. "you're going to be okay. we're going to get through this."

2017, monterrey, california.

"i genuinely can't comprehend that roman pearce is getting married."

the family of three was walking down the nail care aisle at walmart, a welcome addition to their weekly shopping trip as y/n scanned the packages on the rack for a set of acrylic nails.

han laughed, one hand around his wife's waist and his chin on her shoulder as he leaned against the shopping cart. "it's not going to last. they may be getting married on saturday but i bet that by christmas roman is going to call and tell us she asked for a divorce."

"don't be so cynical." y/n laughed, kissing her husband softly before holding up a small white box. "do these go with my dress?"

"they'll go with anything, babe." han said, moving to whisper in her ear “they'd look even better wrapped around my c-"

"i want nails like mom's!" poppy han's shout cut him off, the little girl looking at the array of disney princess nails on the lower shelves.

laughing, han knelt down next his daughter, one hand on her shoulder. "which one do you want, princess? do you want frozen, tinker bell? mulan?"

"i want the ariel ones." poppy smiled, reaching for the pack of little mermaid nails. han helped her get them off the hook before lifting her up, carrying the six year old securely against his chest.

"seoul-oh, she's like six, you're spoiling her by carrying her all the time." y/n laughed, dropping both packs of nails in the cart.

"what, she's not heavy, sweetheart." han grins. "besides, i have to stay in shape somehow."

y/n rolls her eyes. "sweetie, it's bold of you to assume that you were ever in shape. but i loved you anyways, didn't i?"

back at home, they settled in the living room, near the large bay window. y/n watched contentedly from the kitchen as han sat at the coffee table across from poppy, delicately brushing nail glue across his daughter's tiny nails, dropping the glittery little mermaid nails on top.

it had taken a while to get to this peaceful, quiet part of their life, but y/n han was so glad that they had made it. that she had seoul-oh and that she had little poppy.

"be careful with your nails, they might come off. now, go get your homework done before we make the pizza, okay?"

poppy scurried off down the hall to her room, and y/n padded across the shag carpet, looping her arms around her husbands neck as she gave him a kiss.

"i'm so lucky, you know that. i'm happy and healthy again, and i have you and poppy. that's everything i could ever ask for." she said softly, resting her head against han's chest as the man tilted his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

of course they both missed the good old days. the days of adrenaline and adventure. but brian and mia had left, and then y/n and han, and soon after was letty and dom. they were moving on with their lives, a chapter of glitz and glamour coming to a close.

"i want another one."

y/n froze, pulling back from her husband. "what?"

"i want another baby. and i know what we went through last time, and i fully understand if you're not willing to take that chance again, but god, y/n, i want a big family with you." han explained, holding his wife's hands. "poppy is growing up. soon she's going to be too cool for dear old dad. and then there will be boys-"

"or she'll be like you," y/n cuts him off with a laugh. "in which case there will be lots and lots of girls."

"god help us all. my little girl is going to break a lot of hearts one day."

"and you want another one?"

"honestly? yeah, i do."

"then i guess we'd better start trying. multiplication isn't that hard, so poppy's gonna be looking for us within the next hour." y/n hummed, kissing her lover softly.

han smiled against her lips, hands slipping into her jeans pockets to cop a feel of his wife's ass. "i only need half that."

TAGS:

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @mignonricciardo @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @monzabee @scuderiamh @daydreamingleclerc @diorleclerc @oconso @cl16version

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 4 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Dresses, sails, and thunderstorms oh my! You and Aemond are forced to work together and tensions rise.

word count: 6.4k

rating: Mature

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, angst, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, kissing

note: hope you enjoy my loves!!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected

You spent the days after you and Aemond’s conversation at the Wolf Den trying to avoid the Targaryen as much as possible. Which was much easier said than done. Both of you spent generous amounts of time helping Luke with Seasmoke, bickering with each other more than actually being helpful. 

“If you just let me do it-” you’d said, grabbing the paint roller from him.

Aemond had pursed his lips together in annoyance. “Like you could reach with those short legs-”

“Don’t talk about my legs!” you’d angrily hissed, “Don’t look at them, don’t think about them!”

“Believe me I’m not-”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You change your mind?” he’d asked, a sly grin on his face that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

“Get fucked,” you’d told him.

“Seems like you need it more than I do.”

Aemond had walked away from the interaction with paint splattered across his chest. 

Needless to say, the tension between you two was palpable. Even Baela had begun to notice it.

“You really hate him, huh?” she asks while holding up a dark blue dress and looking in the floor-length mirror.

You, Baela, and Helaena had traveled into the city for the day, shopping for dresses for the gala. Though Baela already has a dress picked out, she can’t stop eying the one she currently holds. You’ve been looking at dresses for the past half an hour, unsure of which you like best. 

Helaena’s the one who is truly enjoying herself, trying on various lengths, designs, and colors.

“Who?” you ask, picking out a gold dress. It’s nearly perfect, except for its ruffled collar with matching sleeves. You scrunch your nose with distaste, returning it to the hook.

“Aemond,” Baela says, dropping to an ottoman and pulling out her phone, “You seem to really bring out the worst in each other.”

“I don’t hate him,” you assure her, “He’s just….annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she says, scrolling through Instagram, “Can’t argue with that.”

You can feel your cheeks flush as you think back to your conversation with him at the Wolf Den. Was he seriously proposing a no-strings-attached situationship with you? And more importantly why? Though you can’t deny your curiosity. Floris Baratheon was clearly not happy that she wasn’t Aemond’s fuckbuddy anymore.

You’d run into her again a few days ago at the country club and the cheerful prom queen facade had been replaced with a much icier one. Clearly, she thought you and Aemond had something going on. Great. 

“Oh shit,” Baela says suddenly, eyes going wide.

“What?” you ask, still flicking through gowns.

“Nothing,” she says, pressing her phone against her chest. 

You tilt your head to the side as you turn to face her.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“Bae!”

You reach for her phone, trying to wrestle it from her grip. Helaena rounds the corner, a dress in her hands before seeing the scuffle and turning quickly away. You grab Baela’s phone, even as she continues to insist you shouldn’t look.

It’s Will Tyrell’s Instagram, a group picture on a boat. He looks good; shirtless, wearing a captain’s hat with his arm slung around a pretty blonde.

Fuck.

Baela’s eyes are apologetic. “I didn’t know he was seeing-”

“Whatever,” you tell her, giving her phone back, “It's fine, it's cool.”

“Are you sure?” Baela says, chewing her lip nervously, “Cause you just-”

“Bae,” you tell her, laughing slightly, “I had one conversation with the guy. I don’t own him.”

“Still,” she says, eyebrows concaving together, “Will is a nice guy. Nice guys don’t give their number out and then run off with CeCe Lannister-”

“Wait, that’s Cece?” you ask, “Cece rosebush burning Lannister?”

Helaena has reappeared, dressed in the gown she was previously holding, and rolls her eyes.

“Why do I keep hearing her name?” she grumbles, “You know, you say it again and she’ll appear. Like Beetlejuice.”

Baela holds the phone out and Helaena raises an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Baela says shaking her head, “No one disses my girl like this!”

“Please, there’s no way they’re a thing,” Helaena says, smoothing her dress and turning toward the mirror to admire herself, “Tyrell and Lannister just don’t match.”

Helaena’s dress is beautiful; a strapless, silvery blue color that falls just below her knee. 

“Cute,” Helaena says to herself, turning to the side to admire the curve of her ass, “Seriously, Y/N, shoot him a text.”

“You think I should?” you ask as Helaena bends over. Baela reaches over giving her ass a slap that makes Helaena yelp.

You shrug taking out your phone and sending a message. You watch the screen as the read receipt appears, along with three gray dots. You can’t help but smile, nibbling on your lower lip. 

“He’s typing,” you tell them, happiness swooping through your belly.

Helaena smirks. “Told you!”

Two hours. You’ve been left on read for two hours. 

God fucking dammit. 

Helaena’s smile is apologetic from the rearview mirror as she catches your eye. It’s the twelfth time you’ve checked. Those three little dots appeared and disappeared with no response from Will. 

“Guys are drama anyway,” Baela had said, “Who needs them.”

Easy for Baela to say. The girl hasn’t had a dry spell in years. But since your last one-night stand back at Honeyholt, you hadn’t hooked up with anyone else. And that was a while ago. Snow was on the ground. And you just couldn’t help but get your hopes up slightly with Will’s flirtation. No matter what the case, the rejection still stung. 

Baela could tell. She turns to you from the passenger side, peering over her sunglasses.

“Listen to me,” she begins, “You’re a bad bitch. If Will Tyrell can’t see that, then it's his loss.”

You roll your eyes.

“I know,” you tell her, “It’s fine, seriously. I barely know the guy.”

Baela goes to say something else when her phone begins to ring. She holds it up and you just make out the name Dad when she answers it.

“Yeah?” she says, her voice cold. You can hear the deep voice of Daemon Targaryen on the line as Baela removes her sunglasses, tossing them onto the dashboard. 

Helaena glances at Baela before turning the radio down. You’d been seriously vibing to Phoebe Bridgers. Baela brings a hand to her face, rubbing between her eyes. It’s a nervous habit of hers, one you often see when she’s got a big paper due or during finals season. 

“I don’t know, Dad,” she says with a sigh, “I’m…okay. Yes. I understand.” She bites her lip. “Of course I do. Yup. Yeah, bye.” You faintly hear Daemon’s voice say something along the lines of love you before Baela hangs up the phone. 

You don’t speak for a moment, driving in silence except for the low volume of Savior Complex humming through the speakers. 

“Everything okay?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah,” Baela says, running a hand through her curls, “Would you be cool grabbing dinner with Hel tonight while I go to Dragonstone?”

You reach out to touch her shoulder. “Of course.” 

“Ew no,” Helaena jokes, smiling at you through the rearview, “I actually can’t stand Y/N, you can’t leave me with her.”

“Hurtful!” you tell her, putting a hand on your chest in fake shock. Helaena snickers, but Baela barely cracks a smile.

“Rhaenyra wants dinner,” she tells you both, “With the whole family.”

A chill runs through you. While Baela had evaded dinner with her father due to the storm over a week ago, he clearly the kind of man who gets what he wants. 

“Well not the whole family,” Helaena argues playfully, “Cause that always goes oh so well.”

Baela groans, placing her feet on the seat, and holding her knees against her chest. 

“Trade places with me?” Baela begs her and Helaena shakes her head.

“Someone would notice cuz,” she says with an apologetic grimace, “Though maybe if I curled my hair?”

That earns a laugh from Baela, and she rubs her eyes. 

“This is gonna suck,” she moans.

“Probably,” Helaena agrees, and you smack her shoulder lightly, “But you’ll get through it. You always do Baela-boo.”

Baela drops her hands from her face, looking at Helaena. 

“Oh my god stop,” she says, though she’s smiling for real now.

“What?” Helaena asks innocently, “You don’t remember Baela-boo, and Rhaena-roo?”

“And don’t forget Helaena-hoo,” Baela says with a giggle, before turning to face you, “My mom…those were her nicknames for us. She thought she was so clever.”

“Which she was,” Helaena says, grinning, “Best nicknames ever. The boys were so jealous.”

“It was for the girls only,” Baela said, her smile full of emotion, “Laena-loo…Nyra-noo.” She clears her throat, looking down at her lap, “Silly.”

Baela Targaryen is one of the strongest people you know, in more ways than one. Your heart hurts watching how her lower lips wobbles as she plays with the rings on her fingers. 

“It’s adorable,” you tell her, smiling at your best friend fondly. Baela misses her mom so much, you can tell. 

“I think we can bring them back,” Helaena says with a nod, “Sure, we were nine when they were cool, but I think they hold up!”

Baela laughs and wipes a tear that’s fallen down her cheek. You squeeze her shoulder before giving her a hug, wrapping your arms around the passenger seat and her. It’s awkward, but Baela grabs your arm anyway, resting her chin on your forearm. 

“Oh, I love this song!” Helaena says, turning up the volume as the next song begins to play. 

You swing by Helaena’s house to drop off your dresses. She insists Alicent will want them dry-cleaned before the gala. After that, you decide to head down to the docks to see how the gang has been doing with Seasmoke that day. 

You hadn’t expected they would get a lot to get done in your absence. Rhaena had been tasked with babysitting the littles on Dragonstone while Rhaenyra and Daemon saw Jace off. He was headed on a solo sailing trip to the Vale and would return in a few weeks, just in time for the regatta.  Daeron had made his departure for Oldtown a few days ago, and Luke was clearly lost without his friend. 

“Get anything good done?” Baela hollered up to the boys from the dock. 

It looked like they were tidying up for the day, but Luke seemed agitated. Aegon was first to exit the ship, flashing a cheeky grin as he passed. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Luke says, running a hand through his curls, as he walks down the ramp. Aemond follows close behind, an exasperated expression on his face. You’ve been here two minutes and are already annoyed with him.

“What?”

“Jace ordered the sails from Iron Islands, but they arrived at Pyke and need to be checked out tonight before Greyjoy ships them here,” Luke tells you. 

“I’m not seeing the issue,” Helaena says, “Pyke’s a lot closer!”

Luke nods dramatically, tongue between his teeth. You think his right eye twitches.  

“I can’t go to Pyke because of the stupid dinner!” he says, face flushing, “Goddammit!”

“Hold up, calm down. It's okay, Aegon will go,” Helaena offers. 

Aegon frowns. “No, I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he answers, walking down the dock. 

Luke holds his arms out in frustration and Helaena looks ready to chase her elder brother off the dock. It’s like Aegon senses her glare, burning into the back of his head because he quickens his pace.

“Okay, then I’ll go,” Helaena offers, but Luke winces, “What?”

“Umm, no offense Hel…but I want someone who…you know…” he trails off, muttering something about ‘knowing how sails work.’

Helaena rolls her eyes before letting them land on Aemond. He tenses, standing up straighter, sensing the direction this is headed. 

“No,” he says immediately.

“Yes,” Helaena counters. 

“No.”

“Yes!” Helaena insists, “Aemond this is your fault, you fix it.” 

But Luke is shaking his head, eyes wide with panic.

“No way!” Luke argues, “He’ll sabotage me again, probably tear the-”

“Y/N will go with him!” Helaena offers, much to your surprise.

“What?” you and Aemond ask simultaneously. You shoot him an annoyed glare which he returns with one of his own.

“You’re unbiased, you’ll represent Luke and make sure Aemond’s not fucking around with anything,” Helaena says, “Come on it's perfect.”

Luke’s mouth twists into a frown, but he doesn’t disagree. You raise your eyebrows to your hairline. 

“Seriously?” you ask through clenched teeth. 

Helaena wets her lips nervously. “Look, Pyke isn’t that far. You can’t kill each other in that amount of time, I promise.”

“Oh, really? Can’t you come with us?” you beg, eyes wide. But Helaena shakes her head.

“Can’t, the bike only seats two,” she tells you with a shrug. 

Your heart drops into your stomach. “Bike?”

“This is your ride?” you ask, as Aemond leads you into the garage.

Of course, stupid Aemond drives a stupid motorcycle. The bike is huge, shiny, and black, gleaming in the streams of sunlight that come through the garage doors. 

“No, I’m stealing it,” he deadpans, holding out a helmet for you. 

“So funny,” you tell him, snatching the helmet from his hand. He’s got big hands; while he could hold the helmet in one of his hands, it takes both of your own. 

Aemond puts his own helmet on, straddling the bike before looking back at you.

“You getting on or what?” he snaps, patting the seat behind him.

“I’m going!” you tell him, hurrying to clip the helmet on your head. Your hands fumble with nerves, and you keep missing the clasp. You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Straddling the back of Aemond Targaryen does not seem like the greatest idea for your first ride.  

Aemond groans, beckoning you forward with his hand. You scoot closer and he brings his hands to the clasps. You swallow, feeling his fingertips caress the skin under your chin as he secures the helmet. Your heart beats frantically in your chest as your eyes meet his. 

“You couldn’t figure that out?” Aemond insults and the spell is broken.

“Fuck off Targaryen,” you snap, getting on the back of the bike. 

The drive isn’t that long, but it scares the shit out of you. Aemond is a reckless driver. Though you wanted to remain cool, calm, and collected for the whole ordeal, you find yourself clinging to his back desperately, nails digging into his leather-clad pectorals as you press your face against him. He smells pretty good, an enticing mixture of cologne and the leather from his jacket. 

He weaves through traffic like a man who doesn’t fear death, going over the lines and in between cars. Several people honk at him, one man even leans out his car window to shout obscenities. By the time you reach Pyke you’re trembling like a leaf. 

Aemond turns off the bike, and you don’t release him. 

“Hello?” he asks, turning slightly.

“Don’t!” you squeak, eyes still shut, “Don’tdon’tdon’t-”

“We’ve stopped,” he assures you, “Don’t be a baby.”

You open your eyes slightly, and once you see that you’ve safely stopped, unwrap your arms from around him, standing on trembling legs. You unbuckle the helmet tossing it to the side, as Aemond gets off the bike, using his foot to flip the kickstand.

“You asshole!” you yell as he removes his helmet, running a hand through his hair. His grin is impish as he takes in your flustered expression.

“What?” he asks, placing the helmet on the seat of the bike.

“You’re insane!” you accuse, crossing your arms. 

“That’s unkind,” he muses, “You’ve hurt my feelings.”

“Do you even have feelings?” you quip and Aemond pokes his tongue against his cheek. You turn away from him, beginning to walk toward the small shop that lies next to a dock lined with sailboats. 

You can hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you. 

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumble and he chuckles behind you. 

Dalton Greyjoy greets you once you’re inside, the owner of Iron Sails in Pyke. A smaller location than Iron Islands. 

“The best in the west,” he boasts, grinning from ear to ear. His face is weathered from the sun and the sea. 

You and Aemond check over the sails three times, making sure everything is in order for them to be shipped to King’s Landing the following day. 

“Big beauty Seasmoke is,” Dalton muses, “You don’t see sails this size anymore.”

“Luke’s been working really hard,” you tell him, smiling politely, “He loves sailing.”

“That he does,” Dalton agrees, patting you on the hand. He pulls away, nervously glancing at Aemond. He’s been a little too friendly with you this afternoon, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. 

You’re actually thankful Aemond is here with you. Dalton clearly thinks you’re together, which is why his advances haven’t gone much further. Scary boyfriend privileges without the boyfriend part. You hope Aemond doesn’t notice but of course, that isn’t the case. He points it out as you’re leaving.

“He was awfully friendly,” he comments, handing you your helmet. You place it on your head. 

“Whatever,” you tell him, but before you can reach for the clasp, Aemond’s hands are there already. He clicks the strap into place adjusting it under your chin. Your cheeks burn and you blink rapidly at the kind gesture.

Aemond breaks away from your gaze looking up at the sky. The wind has begun to pick up and the air has a sudden chill to it.

“We better get going,” he says softly, “Storm’s coming.”

You barely make it back to King’s Landing when the rain begins to turn into a downpour. Aemond must have a remote control clicker for the five-car garage, because it opens automatically, sending warm light onto the driveway as you skid inside.

Even though the sky had just opened, you’re already soaked as Aemond shuts off the bike.

“Shit,” you curse, taking off the helmet.

The walkway is already flooding with water. Your eyes widen as lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

“There’s no way you’re making it to Driftmark,” Aemond muses, removing his own helmet.

Baela was supposed to swing by after dinner and grab you before returning to the island for the night. You reach for your phone, seeing a missed text from her and Helaena.

“What is it?” Aemond asks, stripping off his leather jacket. 

“Um, just Baela spending the night on Dragonstone,” you tell him.

Aemond shakes his head, “I’m sure she’s thrilled.”

“And Hel’s at Sara’s,” you finish. You watch him, neither of you moving.

“Come on,” he says, motioning with his head towards the door to the house. The garage doors begin to close behind you as you follow him inside. 

The house is dark and Aemond turns on a light in the kitchen as you enter.

“Mom?” he calls, “Aegon?” There is no reply. 

Aemond checks his own phone before shaking his head. 

“They’re not here?” you ask.

“Aegon’s god knows where,” Aemond grumbles, sliding his phone into his back pocket, “Mum’s out. Just us.”

Just us.

You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond scratches the back of his neck, eyes falling to the floor. You glance around the room, eyes falling to the empty podium that once held the bust of Maegor Targaryen. 

Aemond moves to sit on the couch and you follow him. It’s large enough to fit several people and you sink into the cushions comfortably. Aemond leans back spreading his legs wide and placing his arms on the back of the couch. You can just spot his silver chain poking out from underneath his black t-shirt. He nearly catches you looking as he glances your way.

“Where’s your mom?” you ask, as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Helping with the auction stuff. She does a lot of volunteer work at the country club,” he tells you.

“That’s nice of her,” you tell him. 

“Mhmm,” he answers. 

It’s awkward, with nothing to bicker about. You find yourself wanting to fill the silence.

“Where do you go to school?” you ask, removing your shoes and tucking your feet up on the couch. 

“Citadel University,” he answers, to your surprise. Of course, he’s from CU, as all pretentious rich assholes are. 

“Figures,” you say with a snort, “You know what Honeyholt calls you?”

Aemond purses his lips, nodding for you to continue.

“Cunt university,” you snicker, even though it's not that clever. 

“I see why you go to Honeyholt,” he says smirking.

Your jaw drops.

“It’s a great school,” you argue.

“Sure,” he mockingly agrees, and your blood begins to boil.

“What are you studying anyway?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“Double major. History and philosophy,” he quips, “And yourself?”

“I’m undecided,” you tell him. 

“You’ve got lots to figure out,” he says, holding your gaze. Your face warms, butterflies gathering in your belly. 

Aemond doesn’t look away. His hand outstretched on the back of the couch suddenly seems too close like he could reach out and touch your arm with his fingertips. 

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, laughing a little as you say it, “What’s your deal anyway?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, tilting his head.

“This whole, thing,” you hold your hand up, referring to him, “The dick-sona.”

“Dick-sona?” he asks, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“What’s got you so fucked up?” you ask, “There must be a reason you’re so…”

“Forward?” he finishes your sentence for you. You hold his gaze. 

He’s thinking of the other night too. You can feel it. His proposition weighs heavy between you.

“Yes,” you agree.

“I just know what I want,” he tells you, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

You watch him, knowing there’s more to it that he’s not sharing. There’s a reason he’s being like this, keeping you and everyone else, at arm’s length. But you’re not going to push, no matter how curious you are. If Aemond Targaryen doesn’t want to share, that’s fine with you.

“Yeah,” you tell him, the back of your neck tingling, “So…”

“I can show you the guest room,” Aemond says suddenly, “I mean, who knows when the rain will let up. You’ll want to get some sleep if Baela’s coming for you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding, “That sounds good.”

You follow Aemond up the winding grand staircase, listening to the sound of rain pounding down on the windows. He leads you down the hall, opening a door revealing a large queen bed with a white comforter and several decorative pillows. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, heading further down the hall.

He disappears through another door, coming out with a black shirt in his hands. He holds it out to you. 

“Here,” he says, “If you want to be more comfortable.”

You take it from him. “Thank you.”

He hums in response and you back into the room.

“There’s a bathroom too if you want to shower,” Aemond tells you as you nod. 

“Um goodnight,” you tell him, pressing your lips tightly together as you close the door. 

Holy shit.

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Stuck in King’s Landing. Alone. With Aemond. Your mind is racing, so you decide to take a long, cold shower to erase any dirty thoughts from your mind. 

It’s not like you can fuck him. Right? The guy doesn’t even like you. You check your phone once you’re done with your shower. Yup. You’re officially spending the night. And no text from Will. Left on read. AGAIN.

You slam your phone with a groan. Fuck it. Maybe sleeping with Aemond isn’t the worst idea. Maybe you do just need to get laid. Help each other out, as he said. You chew your lip nervously.

You hold the shirt up in front of your naked form. It’s huge, clearly his. You bring it to your nose, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and his cologne. It’s the same scent you smelled as you rode on his motorcycle, cheek pressed to his back. Expensive. Musky. Notes of amber. Fuck. 

You slide it over your head, and it falls in the middle of your thighs. No panties though. You sleep without them anyway so what’s it matter? You hop over to the bed, sit on top of it, and cradle one of the soft feather pillows in your lap. You can’t help but nervously chew your lip, thinking of Aemond down the hall. 

Screw this. 

You get up, tossing your pillow behind you, and head toward the door. Throwing it open you’re shocked to see Aemond already standing in front of it, hand raised as though he was going to knock. You release a startled squeak, stumbling backward on the balls of your feet. 

Aemond’s eye runs over your wet hair and scantily clad form, causing warmth to gather on your cheeks. You can’t help but do the same, eyes roaming the form-fitting white t-shirt he wears, down to the grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and back up to that fucking silver chain he wears. 

“Hey,” he says, wetting his lips, “I was just-”

You interrupt him with a chaste kiss on his lips. You pull away quickly, lips tingling. Aemond blinks as though he’s trying to process what just happened. Then, a smirk curls onto his handsome face, and he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle before reaching down, grabbing the back of your neck, and pulling you towards him. 

“I fucking knew it,” he growls.

He connects your lips, kissing you deeper this time; his tongue slipping through the seal of your lips with ease. Aemond’s hand remains firmly on the back of your neck, long fingers curling around your throat while the other reaches to slam the door shut as he backs you into the room. Then he’s on you, pawing at your waist, reaching down to cup the swell of your ass, and squeezing so hard you gasp into his mouth. 

He’s a good kisser, much to your disappointment (well not really, deep down). You had hoped he wouldn’t live up to the cocky attitude he wears like armor.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, between kisses, his voice rough and seductive, sending a rush of warmth between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you breathe against his lips, feeling the sharp point of his nose press against your cheek.

“Super sure?” he breathes, lips ghosting against yours. He tastes like peppermint, like winter in the city.

“Yes,” you repeat, lips hungrily chasing his own in a desperate kiss, “I want you to fuck me, Aemond.”

He groans as you say it, pushing you back against the bed until your knees bend and your back hits the mattress. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist as he climbs on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. His lips are so soft and warm, you nearly whimper just from making out with him like it's your first time again. 

You can feel him smiling against you as you drag your hands underneath his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen flex underneath your touch. He breaks away for a moment, holding himself above you with one hand, using the other to pull his t-shirt off his body, throwing it to a corner of the room. 

You move to remove your own shirt- well his shirt- tossing it in the same direction. Aemond eyes your breasts hungrily, wasting no time bringing his mouth to your taut right nipple, swirling his tongue over the bud and sucking. You can feel the cool metal of his chain dragging across your breast, the juxtaposition driving you crazy.

You moan, digging your nails into his shoulder, and dragging them down his back harshly. Aemond gasps slightly, releasing your nipple and moving to the other, beginning to palm at the abandoned breast. His hand travels lower, slender fingers dragging down your sternum, over your belly button, and down toward your wet center. You can feel how drenched you are already, the stickiness that has formed between your thighs. You lift your hips, desperate for some friction, anything. 

Aemond’s fingers part your slick folds, barely touching you, just enough to make you bite your lower lip in anticipation.

“Fuck,” he moans, jaw slacking, “You’re so wet.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as you throw your head back against the pillows. Aemond smirks, sliding down your body to seat himself between your legs. 

“All talk,” he muses, pushing your legs back against the mattress.

You’re spread out for him like a feast. He curls his fingers into the meat of your thighs, before bringing his mouth to your left one. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the smooth skin, sucking harshly. You’re tingling everywhere, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes as he moves to do the same to your opposite thigh. 

He kisses the delicate flesh where your thigh meets your hip, dragging his lower lip against it as he looks up at you. His violet eye is hooded, the pupil dilated with lust. Aemond grips your right thigh, pulling you toward his face with ease, his nose bumping against your clit, causing you to jolt. 

“Aemond,” you whimper, and he moans in response.

“Oh I like that,” he murmurs, letting his tongue dart out to taste between your folds, “Say it again.”

Your heart is beating erratically in your chest, fire erupting in your belly with every swipe of his tongue against your slick folds. 

“Aemond,” you whine once more, “Oh fuck.” He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling on the sensitive nub, tongue flicking out to caress it. His eye watches you the entire time, studying your way, the way you react to each gentle flutter of his tongue. 

Your toes curl and your legs tremble at his attention. Fuck. Holy shit this is good. His tongue dips lower, momentarily abandoning your clit to prod at your entrance. Aemond releases his grip on your thighs to bring his hands to cup under your ass. He lifts you off the bed slightly, angling your upwards and plunging his tongue inside you.

A strangled cry leaves your lips as he works the smooth, wet muscle against your clenching walls. He moans as you cry out, squeezing your asscheeks harshly as he moves his face up and down, grinding his nose against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. You’re nearly there, legs tingling with your impending orgasm, when he lowers you to the bed.

He replaces his tongue with his fingers, easing one slender digit into your throbbing core. Aemond finds your G-spot with impressive precision, stroking the rough patch in tandem with the movements of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” you squeak, abdominal muscles clenching as he slips a second finger into your tight, wet heat. He crooks his fingers, pulling his mouth away from your clit momentarily to watch them slide in and out. 

“You like that?” he asks roughly, chin glistening with your slick.

“Yes,” you answer, a broken cry, “Fuck just like that-”

“Just like this?” he teases, pressing his opposite palm on your lower abdomen as he taunts you, “Yeah, that’s good, huh?” 

The added stimulation on your g-spot makes your vision blur as he drops his head to mouth your clit once more. The noises leaving your mouth are uncontrollable at this point, and you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed because it feels too fucking good for you to care.

Your legs shudder and you tangle your hands in his hair as your walls clench around his fingers and you cry out as your orgasm washes over you. You feel a rush of wetness as you finish, hear the squelching of Aemond’s fingers and the low, throaty moan he releases as he continues his ministrations with his fingers and tongue so you can ride out your orgasm. 

When your limbs have stilled, Aemond eases his fingers out of you, crawling on top of you once more, kissing you ferociously. You can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants and you move quickly, mind clouded by lust, fingers dipping below his waistline and freeing it. It's hot and heavy against your hand and you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You’re kissing him still, fuck you like kissing him, so you can’t see how his cock looks. 

But you feel it, as you stroke down the shaft. It just keeps going. 

You blink, pulling away from his lips, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking harshly in the smooth skin of your throat. You glance between you and him, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. Long, pale, and slightly curved upwards. Aemond Targaryen is well endowed. Aemond Targaryen has a perfect fucking cock.

This stupid bastard. 

You almost want to roll your eyes in frustration but then he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and any thought of annoyance with the man on top of you fades from your mind. 

“I have a condom,” he murmurs through a moan as you continue to stroke him. 

“Do you want me to…” you begin, wanting to return the favor.

“Not tonight,” he tells you, kissing your lips, “Let me be inside you.”

“Yes,” you agree, bucking your hips desperately, “Please-”

Aemond sits back on his haunches, reaching for his discarded sweatpants. He smirks while removing a condom from the pocket. He tears the foil with his teeth, sliding it on his length. 

“Please?” he teases, imitating you slightly, “You want my cock that bad?”

You’re breathing heavily, and nod. Aemond leans forward, his arms forming a cage around you. He guides his cock toward your center, dragging the tip through your slick folds. 

“Say it,” he demands, voice low and commanding.

“Please…I want your cock,” you whimper, cheeks aflame.

Aemond grins.

“Fuck that’s good,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss as he presses into you.

The delicious stretch of his cock steals the breath from your lungs as you adjust to his size of him. Your walls spasm, pussy fluttering desperately as he sheathes himself completely in your tight, wet heat. And then he’s rolling his hips, dragging his cock out to the tip and slamming back into you and you lose your last thread of sanity. 

Aemond pounds into you with long, hard, even strokes. The bedframe shakes, and he reaches up, holding the headboard to support himself as he thrusts into you.

“So fucking good…” he moans, “Perfect fucking pussy…fuck I knew you’d be perfect..”

You moan at his words, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Aemond hooks his free arm under your lower back, lifting your lower body off the bed. He’s so deep inside of you, the curve of his cock sliding against your G-spot perfectly with each thrust. It’s hard and dirty and you’re living for every second of it, pleasurable tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. 

Aemond’s jaw is slacked, eyes glued to your tits bouncing with every harsh thrust he delivers. He slides his hand down from your back, releasing you down onto the bed and sliding your leg over his shoulder. The new angle has you spilling moans and whimpers with every thrust, causing an open-mouthed smile to appear on Aemond’s face.

Cocky bastard. And he was right. He is that fucking good. Especially as he brings his hand to play with your clit, the pads of his fingers working lazy circles around the sensitive button. 

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his tone tantalizing, “You know you want to. Be my good little girl, yeah?”

“Fuck fuck!” you cry, thighs trembling, pussy clenching around his thick cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as you fall apart for the second time with a cry, “Oh she’s a good girl after all, huh? Just needed to be fucked real good.”

“Oh shit!” you cry as he continues thrusting into you, the overstimulation making you see stars.

“Gods this perfect tight little pussy, fuck,” he moans, stuttering as he finishes into the condom. He kisses you as he cums, tangling his tongue with yours, dragging another moan from your throat.

Aemond stays inside you a moment, before unsheathing his cock. He rolls next to you, removing the condom and throwing it into the trashcan. He turns back over to you, pulling you against him. You’re dazed, blinking sleepily as his fingers stroke your upper arm. 

“You need to go to the bathroom,” he murmurs, “And have some water. Then we’ll lay.”

You turn your face to him.

“Didn’t think you’d be into aftercare,” you tell him.

“It’s important,” he answers immediately, “For the chemical balance in your brain.”

“Okay Bill Nye,” you tell him, rising from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

You return a few moments later, climbing back into bed with him. He’s gone under the covers and you snuggle up next to him. 

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends with benefits,” you tell him, cheek pressed against his chest. Aemond releases a hum, the vibrations moving through you.

“Why not?” Aemond asks, fingers playing with your hair.

“We’re not friends, for one,” you tell him, bringing your hand to the one of his that lays on his stomach. You stroke your pointer finger over the back of his hand, tracing the veins. “And you’re annoying and irritating.”

“So?” Aemond asks, as though the statement doesn’t bother him in the slightest, “I just fucked your brains out.”

You feel the heat returning to your cheeks.

“I assume you enjoy getting your brains fucked out?” he asks, moving his hand to lace his fingers through his.

It’s your turn to hum in response.

“Alright,” you tell him, sitting up, “But if we’re doing this, we need some ground rules.”

“Perfect,” he says sitting up, “I agree.”

But just then, your phone lights up on the nightstand. You frown, reaching for it. You can still hear the rain and thunder outside, so you assume it's not Baela or Helaena. Your eyes widen when you read it. 

“Oh shit.”

note: I just can't keep things uncomplicated can I?? its a curse

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @diannnnsss, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @atherverybest, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[gascreates]

them :) dino refs finally complete, so now i can make all the joke comics i want

design thoughts under the cut

aang- second hardest design to ge through. at first i couldn't decide on a species, and then i couldn't get the colors to work. believe it or not, bright yellow right next to bright blue is painful to look at. so instead i opted for an all orange color pallette. does he look like a candy corn? yes. and we love him for it. puny lil candy corn avatar

katara- sweet baby so easy, love her, perfect design, no tears shed except for joy. also GIGANTIC. non negotiable part of her design tbh. and aquatic dino!! spinosaurus was the only choice. the sail is meant to look like her necklace! isnt that cool. im so cool and talented.

sokka- nanuqsaurus is! maybe a cold weather dino. possibly. so we did that. he's smaller than his sister and he's mad about it :) also, him face is warriors paint!! and i know that atla water tribes didn't really have anything to do with orcas, but I love orcas and i wanted to give sokka some recognizably hunter-y pattern. so, orca white markings.

toPH- i am ENDLESSLY SUGFERING. do you know how many times i flip flopped on toph's species. do you understand how many hours i spent debating over the benefits of triceratops vs protoceratops?? ankylosaurus vs. pachysephalosaurus???? my agony is unending. im still unsure. sacrificing the concept that toph could take down a t rex (trike) for the small n unassuming character theme (proto). also the badgermole looking markings are cool i guess

zuko- this is where you pretend that im bot playing favorites when it comes to dino species. why is he a deinonychus? cuz i like big raptors, that's why. go away. dont look at me. he's cute. he looks like a bird and i love that for him. also something something aang and zuko similar species that specialize differently based on how their environments changed them, zuko an echo of the potential of flight and aang an echo of the potential to hunt. flock bird vs pack hunter. same but different.

height chart:

i really cant say if it's accurate at all to the real dinos, but i was lazy and didnt want to do math, so it's just eyeballed heights. the important part is that we understand how tiny aang is and how massive katara is

[gen4grl]

my johto timeskip designs + bios/teams below!

i think about this group ALOT!!! if i had any confidence in writing i would easily share the whole hgss rewrite i have in my head but alas… just take my drawings instead! i like to give characters more “realistic” outfits… not really a modern au? i love to imagine the pokemon world with all our worlds pop culture which inspires my designs! long post but enjoy!!! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

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lyra + 20. champion ranked trainer

♡ Raised by her single mother, aunt and older cousin Kris in the small New Bark home. Her father died when she was 6 in a mining incident involving Team Rocket. Bubbles, her ace Azumarill, was gifted to Lyra by her father on her 5th birthday - being her final gift from him.

♡ Extremely outgoing, sweetly optimistic and immensely empathic. Absolutley loves making friends and talking to every kind of person. However, is extremely competitive & stubbon and gets frustrated easily - resulting in her giving up quickly but is also extremely quick to be re-motivated. Often feels the emotions of others intensely. Very country girl with an extremely strong Johtoian accent and lisp. Loves 'girly' things like makeup + fashion, period dramas and collecting nick-nacks but also loves spending her days outdoors, espcially in the National Park with Ethan watching the bug-catching contests or the Safari Zone.

♡ Struggled with her battle confidence as a young trainer which resulted in her having to re-battle Falkner and Bugsy several times. Over her journey grew an appreciation for pokemon perceived to be 'weak' & cute and built her team around showing the powers of these types of pokemon. Despite being a Champion Ranked trainer, Lyra opted to work with Ethans grandparents at the daycare center where she specialises in pokemon breeding and training weaker pokemon + their trainers.

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silver + 23. champion ranked trainer

♡ Only child of Rocket Boss, Giovanni. Was born and raised on Island 5 of the Sevii Islands by multiple admins, most commonly Archer before running away to Johto. Has a deep rooted and consistent fear that he’ll never amount to anything but “Giovanni's kid”. Was extremely tight lipped about his upbringing to the trio, especially after learning of his loose connection to Lyras father’s passing. Finally told them the truth of his family after the defeat and final disbandment of Team Rocket.

♡ Originally extremely standoffish, condescending and at times, aggressive. As an adult is still quite serious and independent, but genuinely enjoys the time he spends with his friends and is surprisingly protective of them - especially Lyra and Kris. As time passed, his anger towards his father evolved more into guilt, however, over the years has become more patient, gentle and forgiving with not only others but himself. He still can come off quite intimidating to strangers, but these changes are noticeably visible to those close to him. While usually a quiet person, has a very dry and witty sense of humour that takes most people by surprise.

♡ Mentored by Lance, and later Blue, and spends a large amount of time training in the Dragons Den. While unsure of what direction he wants his life to go into, Lance is adamant he would make a fantastic gym leader or elite four member. Always accompanies Lyra to the yearly Champion Balls and Alola trips. Currently lives in a small beachside bungalow with Lyra in Cherrygrove where he enjoys spending his free time reading and teaching himself guitar.

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ethan + 21

♡ The childhood friend of Lyra, Ethan was raised by his father and grandparents in New Bark. Extremely courteous, friend & family oriented and easy to talk to. A natural comic and can make even the straightest face people crack a slight smile - Red being his proudest achievement. Lax and slightly ditsy but can adapt to any situation and group of people like a flick of a switch. Not the best at articulating himself but always puts 110% into making sure people feel comfortable through his actions.

♡ Completed the 8 Johto gyms but never challenged the Elite Four & Lance in favour for persuing his true passions. Currently works at the Goldenrod Radio Tower where he co-hosts a program consisting of interviewing gym leaders, elite four, champions and other prolific battlers. At nights, does standup in the clubs in the Goldenrod Tunnel. Due to his easy-going nature and career, tends to knows everyone’s buisness + gossip and has crazy experiences with nearly any person imaginable.

♡ Currently lives in a small loft in Goldenrod. Spends his free time watching anime + cartoons or in the National Park either watching the Bug Contests, skating or talking to the old folks. Enjoys the nightlife of Goldenrod where he usually pulls Silver out to bar hop or spend hours playing Voltorb Flip.

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kris + 25

♡ Oldest and mother figure of the group. Was born and grew up in New Bark town with her mother before her cousin Lyra + aunt moved in with them when she was 11. The two shared the large upstairs bedroom growing up where Kris introduced Lyra to contests and the annual Champion & Wallace cups.

♡ Mature, soft spoken and extremely intellegent - both academically and socially. Because of this, can offer solutions on any issue on both a practical and emotional level, no matter the person and situation. Has unique relationships with all three kids but in general sees them as her younger siblings and takes the role as the 'older sister' very seriously. Has a warm and comforting presence, making those even to the likes of Silver feel comfortable confinding in her.

♡ Quite reserved and struggled with her purpose and sexuality growing up, espcially in rural Johto. After the death of her uncle and seeing her daughter’s interests in the Wallace Cups and contests, her mother moved the two to the Hoenn region, settling in Lilycove City when Kris was 13. While starting her gym challenge in the new region, Kris fell in love with Hoenn's unique weather patterns and ecosystems. Eventually she quit the gym challenge to peruse a career as a meteorologist where she now works at the weather institute. When not working, she enjoys attending contests, museums and scuba diving. Finally feeling settled in life, she came out to her family + the trio when she was 20.

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[haechanhues]

Corrupted

pairing : haechan x (fem)reader

genre : smut. 

warnings : established relationship (kind of). corruption kink. porn without plot. oral (f. & m. receiving). unprotected sex (please practice safe sex). choking. haechan!dom / reader!sub dynamics. reader is a brat. marking. the endearment ‘good girl’ is used. body worship (in a particular way). also this is like the first time i’ve actually tried to write smut so if it’s terrible be nice about it pls and thank you. minors do not interact. 

summary : all you can focus on is him and how much you wish he’d corrupt you like so many times before. 

word count : 4k 

@k-labels​

part two 

main masterlist 

playlist : heaven - taemin / into you - ariana grande / volcano - han /  under the influence - chris brown / venom - stray kids  

The sunset view from the car is beautiful. The chewy orange blending within the whitewashed light blue. It’s truly heaven on Earth, you imagine. An infinite picture of how glorious the world can be. Yet, your attention isn’t on the sky. Nor on the beautiful red wine dinner you had tonight. You were neither drunk nor high. What you were, was a woman in need of her man to wreck her. To have his way with her in a way she believes only he knows how. 

Said man lazes back into the leather car seat, eyes half lidded and dragging across your body with an appreciative gaze. The hand that was lazily drawing naughty pictures along the fabric of your silk dress all night now has a grip on your hair, experimentally squeezing and tugging at the roots. 

You eye him dutifully as he wraps the soft strands around his fist, his tongue peeking out to swipe against his bottom lip. Your pussy aches for him. But you wait, betraying the need in your body in order to please him. 

It’s a skill of yours, to still look so innocent whilst you’re on your knees in front of him. So compliant. So soft. Even though he knows what you taste like when your mouth is drunk on lust and your cunt is dripping with arousal. What you smell like. What you feel like. 

And it’s all thanks to him. 

You are the result of his corruption. 

He smirks a little at the thought, letting his fingers cascade down your face, tickling the skin before he grips harder at your hair, the skin around his mouth becoming taut as he uses a bit of force, ‘My good girl.’ 

God. 

Pleased with the nickname, your palms brush over his stomach, his body slightly tensing as you make to grab at the waistband of his pants, tugging at them pleadingly. With a dark look smoothed over his face, he drags them down, eyeing you with challenge as he’s left in only his boxers. 

Feeling a rush of bravery, your knee slips in between his legs and your mouth claims him. His lips are soft and your body heats at the feeling of his. Surprise overtakes his features only for a second, but lets you take charge, not bothered at all by your longing. Your head tilts as your tongue licks against his, timid and unsure. He only smiles at your hesitance but doesn’t make any effort to take the lead. 

Accepting his smile as permission, you feel a surge of confidence and deepen the kiss yourself, your tongue more confidently brushing against his own, the subtle taste of cinnamon almost bursting in your mouth. You can’t help the way you melt into him, your fingers reaching upwards to sift through his gorgeous locks of hair before your nails drag down his neck and across his shoulders, electrifying him with pleasure. He hums into your mouth, planting both of his hands on your hips with a firm grip, holding them in place. You want nothing more to sit on his lap and to feel the fabric of your panties lick across your clit, but you remain kneeling. It’s torment. Your chin drops onto the curls on his head and your lips together in a futile attempt to keep quiet. 

But he knows you so well. 

It’s almost like he designed the way you felt pleasure. How you thought about pleasure. Every sensation was designed by him. 

Feeling your need, his right hand drops from your hips and you shudder at the way his palm dawdles down your front until it meets the skin on the back of your thigh, every hair on your body raising with anticipation.  Taking his time, his fingers are a caress as they circle the expanse of your upper thigh before his palm slots in between your thighs like a puzzle, his thumb kissing your slit. 

Your breath hitches and you pull a little away from the kiss, your mouth opening at the feeling. Your thighs press together and it causes the most delicious feeling of torment to crash behind your eyes. His eyes flutter open as he gazes at you knowingly, his pupils blown wide and the tongue that runs across his bottom lip teasing. 

“You alright, baby?” He asks, his voice laced with such a dark lust, you almost moan at the sound. 

“Mm-nnng,” You whimper against his mouth as his fingers cup your sex and your hips jerk involuntarily, ‘Yes.’ 

‘Yes’ He mocks in a high pitched tone, and it’s so red the way he says it. Almost murderous. The colour of blood. The texture of velvet. 

His fingers circle your clit over your panties, teasingly sweeping and igniting the growing feeling in your core. Little mewls of lust escaping your mouth as you throw your head back, exposing your throat to the man in front of you, his eyes dancing as your wet arousal coats his fingers. His breath tickles the length of your throat as his mouth hovers over your neck, enjoying the way moans are being pulled from your chest when his fingers enter you. No matter how much he wants to wreck you with his fingers this very instant, wreck you with only his hands until you forget your own name, he wills his hand to halt its ministrations. You whine, wanting him to move, needing him to move. Always needing. Just the way he likes. 

Haechan paints your throat with his kisses, groaning at every reaction, feeling his cock become harder and harder with every experimental touch. Sweet kisses pull breathy giggles from your throat, your own hands cupping and squeezing at your tits. Open mouthed kisses have your hips seeking out their own pleasure, rolling back and forth in his hold in search of that delicious friction. More desperate than you have ever been. Pleading with him to have his way with you. Please. Just please. Kisses where his bottom lip dawdled behind the rest of his mouth to meet each new press of his lips had you a fidgeting mess, your hands grabbing at anything. His elbows. Arms. Hair. Your dress. 

Your pretty but pesky dress. 

‘Take off your dress,’ Is a whisper as much as it is a demand and he removes his hand from your core. Haechan swipes at the bottom of his mouth with the very same fingers that were dripping with your wetness, your arousal and the taste of your cherry lip balm left behind on his lips. 

Obedient and docile, your thumbs hook around the end of your dress, pulling it upwards, letting the man in front of you appreciate the way your body is slowly being exposed to him. With a lick of his lips, his thumb pulls down at your bra, your nipple perking up excitedly. His thumb circles your left breast lethargically, gazing at the way your breast dimples with the slightest press of his fingertips. It’s when he touches the nipple that your back straightens and your eyes fall shut briefly. You await the torture you know he’ll make you endure. Instead, his thumb remains gently stroking, approving of the way your nipple starts to harden under his flirtatious attention. 

Unable to help yourself, with his hand still remaining at your breast you reach forward to kiss him again, this time much sweeter and innocent than the previous. Seemingly. He abides by it, loving the way you smell. Loving how warm you are. You’re liquid honey and he’s nothing but weak to it. 

Suddenly a slight rush of pain in his lips has him looking at you confused and pleasantly surprised, coming to the conclusion that you’ve nipped at his lips playfully whilst he was lost in your kiss, wearing a smile so daring and so like the cheeky girl he knows you can be. He can’t help the slight smile that graces his lips when you attempt to soothe the small bite you’ve subjected him to, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips in apology, one that leaves his mouth tingling. You could kiss him for hours - how soft his lips were, how perfect, how him. 

Those were the lips that have you brought you to heaven so many times after all. It’s only fair to pay tribute. 

He exhales as you fall to your knees in front of him again, his erected cock as hard as it can possibly get, pleading to be removed by the constraints of his boxers. 

And you pride yourself on being a good listener. 

Your palm reaches in and pulls his long cock out, your mouth watering at the sight. He’s so pretty. Much prettier than you’d think a cock could be. So effortless pretty. 

With a mouth with a mind of it’s own, you lean forward, licking a large stripe from the underside of the shaft, licking upwards to meet the tip. Haechan hisses at the sensation of how warm your mouth is, his knuckles white. You smile, wrapping the tip of his cock with your mouth, tasting the slight taste of his pre-cum with a little moan. Though you make no effort to suck him off. Only mouthing around the tip of his cock. 

Impatiently, he grips the back of your head, seeing your willingness to thoroughly enjoy his sounds of equal frustration and pleasure. Needing to punish you, he hisses, ‘You enjoy teasing me, huh? Think it’s fun?’ 

Without waiting for your response, his hips lift and his hand pushes down on the back of your head, groaning at the true feeling of your mouth and throat. Your mouth opens wider to allow for his cock to have access. A surge of pride rushes through him. You take him so good. So well. 

Pleasure overtakes his senses as he grips harder at your hair, daring to go deeper each time he pulls back. Sadistically loving the way you gag around his cock and the crescent moons your nails leave behind on his legs. The ends of your hair has fanned outwards and they tickle against his skin. He smiles as he slides out of your mouth to briefly check on your state of being, loving the way your chest is heaving with every large breath of air you inhale and exhale. 

There’s his good girl. 

‘So good to me, baby, aren’t you?’ He licks his lip again, your fucked out expression only managing a sweet, obedient nod. 

Taking that as permission he continues to fuck your face, thrusting back and forth with more vigour, groaning at everything. The warm and wet feeling of your mouth. Your tongue rubbing along the tip. Your desperation to see his pleasure. To reach that feeling where he has no control at all and you have it instead. 

Knowingly, his waist drops as his posture straightens, his cock falling out of your mouth. It’s messy and your thighs squeeze together at the thought that your mouth had been there. Your mouth was on that pretty cock. That cock was down your throat. And you loved every second of it. He did too. You look at him as if he had disappointed you, yet he only looks at you expectantly. Waiting. 

Your turn. 

With a fixation on the tip of his cock, you kitten lick it once again. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek at the teasing you can’t help but commit. But his annoyance disappears as your hand reaches up to wrap his cock in a fist, gliding back and forth along the slick shaft. Your mouth opens and your tongue extends, his cock almost bouncing in the cave of your mouth and against your tongue. He groans at the feeling and you look at him. 

So innocent and yet he can see what corruption has done to you. He exhales a small laugh, his fingertip brushing at your cheek. You can’t help but smile back at him, getting slightly bashful as he takes the time to admire you. His smile only widens at you, looking at you in a way that you can’t help but pause your naughty ministrations to slump forward to rest your forehead on his hips. He cocks his head. You’re shy again. 

Not letting your bashfulness get completely in the way, your hand returns to its back and forth and you line kisses on his shaft as an apology. But he’s not mad. Not really. You’re starting to get desperate again. Your mouth laying claim over his cock, gagging as you take him deeper and deeper. He moans with such a feral ferocity that you can’t help the whine that escapes you, lighting him with sensual fire. 

He needs you. Now. 

‘Lie down,’ He orders, motioning towards the leather seats. Swallowing, you follow his orders, your legs slightly spread apart. With a smack of his lips, he peels your underwear down your legs, the air cooling against your exposed slit. 

His ring clad fingers pry your thighs further apart, letting his body fit between them unabashedly. He smirks at the sleek arousal almost dripping out of your pussy, taking great delight in the way you eye his fingers and mouth. Long ring clad fingers. Soft, wet and pretty mouth. 

Smugly, his arms hook under your thighs and pry them apart even further, allowing easy access to complete ruin. Your greed for it evident in your eyes. Drinking him in. 

The first kiss to the inside of your thigh has you whimpering and he lets his kisses float against the skin. 

‘Move....please, move.’ You plead. 

He gloats against your skin, licking against the outer lips of your pussy. It tickles but all you can let out are whimpers. Unable to tame the beast inside of him anymore, he licks at the swollen clit. Loving the way you writhe for him. 

Your mouth gapes open at the sensations that overtake you. Pure pleasure running through your veins and taking your body as a hostage. You can hear the sounds Haechan makes when his mouth comes into contact with your pussy. Messy popping sounds that drive you to unspeakable lengths and back with each swirl of his tongue. He sucks at your clit like the lollipops he consumes was made for this one purpose. 

You moan loudly as he licks one torturously slow long stripe along your sex before blowing on it. A shot of cold air has you electrocuted and your mindful grip on the seats has turned almost violent on his head. Your hips grind onto his mouth enjoying the feeling of his tongue. Untamed. He slaps your ass swiftly and you gasp as flecks of delicious pain jolt your body into attention. 

His mouth pulls away from you in challenge, his eyebrows dancing as you glower at his retreating figure, ‘I’m just getting a condom, baby.’ 

Your glower deepens and you reach for him again, pulling at his collar. A dangerous and risky move. Sometimes it gets you punished. But you’re incessant. Begging for him to continue. Pleading for him raw. Always wanting him. 

He smirks as he theatrically places his middle finger on the hood of your clit, enjoying the way you squirm ‘You’re always needy, aren’t you?’ 

He’s teasing and he doesn’t expect you to respond. Not when his mouth returns to suck at your clit and his fingers dip into pussy. You’re relentless and you’re moaning so loudly at the pleasure he can’t help the way his need to have you come on his mouth transforms to a primal sort of want. He curls his fingers with trained precision thrusting in and out whilst his mouth is kissing and sucking at any angle that has you screaming louder. 

Trapped in a gaze like molten lava, coming is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. Like a knot becoming undone, your legs and arms loosen and your head falls towards the flat surface of the car seat. Yet you’re not finished. You know you’re not. You may of had his fingers. You may have come on his tongue. But you wanted to be wrecked by his cock. You wanted him to completely have his way with you. To fill you up. Your desperation is silent this time as you remain in your position, waiting for him. 

Haechan places a soft purposeful kiss on the inside of your thigh, a contrast to the dark chuckle with a sardonic texture that tickles the skin. He’s slow and his eyes are burning into you with a heated challenging glint, ‘Have you been taking your birth control?’ 

You bit your lip as you nodded. 

‘Good girl,’ He purrs, letting the words affect you like his hand would. His mouth shining with your arousal painted on his mouth. With a last parting kiss to your thigh, he straightens, letting his clothes slacken. 

Soaking up the way you’re watching him, he brings both his hands through his hair before removing his leather jacket and t-shirt. You marvel at the subtle lines of muscle along his abdomen and stomach. Snickering at the pleading eyes of yours, he shuffles closer, letting you grip his hips and grounding him against your pussy, moaning at the sensation. 

‘Impatient,’ He murmurs, dragging his boxers completely down his legs before tossing them to the side. He glowers at the way you blink at him innocently and he knows he’s going to have to set some rules. Splaying out the total length of his hands on your stomach before beginning its ascent to the place he wants it, collaring your neck. 

‘I think I’ve been lenient with you tonight, yes?’ He cocks his head, his tongue briefly licking at his bottom lip and your eyes zero in on the action, incredibly horny. Glaring down at your lack of focus, his pelvis thrusts into the gap between your legs and his hands slightly squeezing at your neck, noting the way your eyes roll back in pleasure, ‘Answer me.’ 

‘Yes,’ You nod, the obedient little lamb once again. 

He’s so hot. So incredibly mouth watering in front of you like this. Dominating and devilish. 

‘So you’re going to be a good girl for me?’ Haechan demands and you nod. You just want him. Need him. Forever needing him. Only him. If he wanted a good girl, he’d get a good girl. 

'Yes,’ You whine, your voice increasing in both volume and pitch. 

Haechan’s eyebrows lower in warning before grabbing his cock in his hand and gliding it across your slit once, his tip grazing your clit. You mewl as you grip your thighs in a tighter hold, the pain barely registering as he lines his cock up to your entrance before slowly easing into you. The groan that escapes both your moans has your smile widening. You feel so full and complete. You watch him, wanting to see the way he looks at you. However, his focus is stolen by the way his cock disappears into your cunt before bottoming out. Both your stomachs pressed up against each other has you feral. He’s so beautiful. 

‘Fuck,’ He moans at the way your pussy clenches around him. His eyes close for a sweet second before he’s moving, thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace. Your chin tilts upwards as you let out a sound of satisfaction. 

‘Faster,’ You beg, grabbing onto his shoulders in preparation, clawing at the skin. 

He pecks at your neck with a feather like kiss, before he positions himself to thrust just the way you want him. He enters you hard and fast and you can’t help your strangled scream, ‘Fuck.’ 

Haechan groans as he continues to steal your identity in exchange for the pleasure that has your body in a chokehold. Your legs hook around his waist, bringing him closer and your mouth finds his neck, biting and licking with every devilishly wolfish drag of his cock into your tight cunt. A playground for all your sex bites and kisses. Marking him.

‘You and your fucking marking,’ He sneers into the crook of your neck. He’s not one for visible marks, but you are. You like the way the colour of his skin changes because of you. How they stake claim. With a reprimanding growl, he lays his palm on your stomach, needing to absolutely wreck you of words. His cock thrums as your cunt swallows every hard thrust. All you can do is moan, finding it physically impossible to mark him. All you do is moan and mewl, whimper and scream. So many songs of pleasure and he’s the one making you sing them. 

Your eyes are glazed over like honey and your lips swollen, he muses down at you with a sweet look in his eye, ‘Words....can you remember them, baby?’ 

Eyebrows furrowed, open mouth, swollen lips and a tightening grip on his waist. No answer. His musing smile drops off his face as he stares cruelly at you. As if you’re his prey. His hips drive into yours faster and harder, driven by your sounds and the tightening of your pussy. You’re close, ‘You don’t need them when you come anyway.’ 

He’s right. Because he’s brought you down this road many times before. Your body is shaking with your orgasm, wet and pulsing with heat. Legs and feet tensing, grabbing at the car seat under you with a tight squeeze. Your pussy clenching around his cock tightly and it takes all of his power not to become undone by the effect your orgasm has on his cock and how much he wants to come. 

But he stands no chance, because you’re looking at him with your innocent eyes of worship, like a fox, as if the both of you aren’t currently fucking in his car. His orgasm rips through him like a new skin, and you’re smiling at the way you feel his cum coat the walls of pussy. He feasts upon it. 

Only when he feels himself soften and his breathing return to normal does he wipe at your leaking sex with his t-shirt and check for any marks that he might’ve left behind, ‘Did I hurt you?’ 

‘You could never hurt me,’ Your words and tone are soft. You’re glowing, he notices. So beautiful. 

His smug smile is teasing, not taking you seriously, opting to ignore your beauty by pretending like it’s normal to be this enraptured by someone. His initial reply is halted by the way you look at him with only gentle eyes. Like you always do. It used to anger him, somewhat. He wasn’t the best guy in the world, not really, everyone knew it and yet, you never treated him like he was anything less. He closes his eyes and his smile tilts towards fake, ‘I could.’ 

You lean into kiss him, just a chaste kiss, one that isn’t heated nor desperate. One that’s sweet like you and difficult for him. But you know he’d do it. However, he’s distracted by your eyes. With a trained kind of gentleness, his finger skims along your eyelashes, admiring the new length, a small smile on his face ‘These are new.’ 

You smile, your words singing in your head like a mantra. Haechan can think the worst of himself. See himself as the big bad wolf that brought the innocent girl down to rot. See himself as the bad guy before the good guy swoops you off your feet. See himself as the embodiment of corruption. 

It’s true, he corrupted you. He did. He’s the man that’s fucked you in your kitchen. Fucked you on his desk.  Even now, he’s the guy who’s just finished fucking you in his car. He’s fucked you so much that he’s ruined any other guy for you. You can’t even entertain the idea of somebody else.

But you’ve also corrupted him. He doesn’t realise how gentle he is with you. How sweet and how caring. How he protects you. How he’s always willing to try or to readily sacrifice a part of his world for you. How he has made your pink love red and beating. 

Those innocent eyes of yours. So obedient. So compliant. How ready they were to show him how to love and be loved. 

author’s note : is it normal to want to bury myself in a hole. asking for a friend. this was originally supposed to be for valentine’s day or my birthday or haechan’s birthday! but you get it now instead! yay! 

[myunghology]

XIAO , SCARAMOUCHE , KAZUHA general relationship headcanons.

!! gender neutral reader, completely sfw, fluff. tw ? ; none ( song reco )

!! XIAO

you guys are definitely taking it slow, he still has to adjust y'know. even if he's over 2,000 years old, i doubt he's ever been in a romantic relationship. ( is that an insult ? ; maybe )

overprotective, doesn't care who it is, he just is. the only exception is probably zhongli and ganyu. still unsure about traveler, but i'm leaning to maybe yes.

"who's that? why are you acting so close with them? do i know them? have you mentioned them before?" "....xiao that's one of my family members." "oh."

easily flustered. he can either cover it up easily, or he can't. there's no in between, or that's up to you if you want to decide.

can't express his feeling's properly. this ones a little bit toxic, but if you didn't want accurate headcanons then i think you came to the wrong blog.

but you cant really blame him, he's naturally like that. and it's probably gonna take him a long time to actually open up about his feelings, but if you're an understanding and patient person, then that's better.

he'll probably ignore you if he's jealous, but i guess that's how he copes dawg

he'd want you to come to him first more than him actually confronting you.

but put all that aside- he gives you little things that reminded him of you whenever he goes somewhere. he would sometimes give you a random cute hairpin and said that it'd suit you, which it did.

that's what makes your relationship so cute, he does these little things that make you smile, like taking you out to places where he thinks it's pretty, just like you. he thinks. he does this because he doesn't know how else to express it. ( shakespeare could never amirite )

!! SCARAMOUCHE

mOTHERFUCKER NUMBER 2 WHO ALSO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS HIS FEELINGS

it's ironic enough that him and xiao are similar in relationships, more so that they absolutely can't express their feelings properly.

but what's different is that he expresses it more aggressive about it. more passive-aggressive probably.

buys you stuff you want without even asking, if he sees you looking at it then he buys it for you the next day, maybe even something better, but still the same design.

you tell him to stop spending his money on you when you don't even need it, but he tells you to just be good and take it. you give in, because it'd be a waste if he bought it and he'd just give it right back after.

but if you like it that way, then he's your personal sugar daddy now congratulations

denies it whenever you call him out when he's being shy, especially when you flirt back, this guy is a hard flirt, only to you of course.

there may be tons of women or men who are into him, but he's only looking at you, if he wanted to cheat, he can. but he doesn't.

"i don't understand why you're so worried about that, you know i'll only always be with you." ( AGOI )

( HE SAY THAT IM GOOD ENOUGH GRABBIN MY DUHDUHDUH THINKIN BOUT SHIT THAT I SHOULDN'T HA-)

but then again, he also says straight forward about problems into a relationship, because he wants to avoid them in the future.

you guys fight sometimes, and i mean teasing by the way, not an actual fight. but fights aren't really rare when you're with him.

it's usually caused because of a misunderstanding.

they do say you fight with the people you love the most

!! KAZUHA

probably the most normal one out of all of them here i fear. sweetest boyfriend ever

bros the whole package

he says whatever's making him uncomfortable in a relationship and he encourages you to do the same and not be ashamed, probably because you two have already been through everything together once you've even started dating.

also he's a very understanding person, and he's willing to listen to you no matter what situation it is.

his love language is probably words of affirmation, saying he loves you out of the blue is his favorite part of the day.

"i love you so much" "..h..huh..?"

10x more soft spoken to you than he is to other people, i know his voice is naturally like that, but he can't help but treat you like your fragile, especially if you're emotional. but if you don't want him to, then he won't push it. especially if you don't like feeling belittled.

closeted sadist

won't force you to do things you don't want to do, but he definitely encourages you.

never and i mean never comments anything rude or disrespectful at you, especially about your appearance. the only things he comments are compliments.

but if you truly want advice for your looks then he'll recommend a hair, clothing switch or something like that, "maybe that would look better, but you really suit anything and everything" he says.

gives you love letters whenever he's away, probably once a week so you don't go overthinking. you don't have to worry about him cheating either, beidou has promised you that she'd tell you if he cheats ( and crush his testicles ) , and obviously, kazuha isn't that type of person, you'd know for sure.

[kritterscribbles]

I FINALLY GAVE MY SHADOW A PROPER DESIGN REF *EXPLODES*

I've been meaning to for ages now but I kept getting sidetracked by other things, but it's done now and I'm super happy with it!! A couple design notes just bc I want to set my thoughts down somewhere:

Given that my Shadow is based in/on the canon from Hitoshi Ariga's manga, that's the design I pulled from and based this off of. However, considering Shadow is supposed to be stealth unit, the brighter, cream-colored accents from both the classic!verse and Ariga—while nice—kinda scratched at my brain wrong? So I tried to keep the design, but darken the colors.

Muffler is red because this ref is post-Stardroid Arc. Before that point he still had his blue one, and I like the idea his new red is somewhat of a tribute.

Yes, that is a hip chain. Yes, those are piercings. While I'm not entirely sure when he got each of them, I think he had them by the time of the Stardroid War.

Eye makeup I am also unsure about, but that's only because i need to figure out if it's printed on his skin or it's something that will eventually need to be re-applied.

Extra sketches n stuff under the cut:

From left to right, top to bottom: Uncolored Kuiperdroid concept, what his body looks like under the armor, A closer look at his piercings, and back engravings I was toying with.

[loveforsatoru]

Our Blue Spring- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 7: Reconnecting)

It was still pouring rain as you continued kissing underneath the moonlight before reluctantly pulling away for air.

Nothing was said, nobody spoke. The sounds of the party going on are muffled as you two stood in your own bubble. It’s like the rest of the universe doesn’t exist. Satoru could die a happy man right now, keeping you close to his chest, silently worshiping your delicate and angelic features.

You feel shy under his gaze, your cheeks flushing the more he looks at you. There wasn’t a single ounce of hatred in his eyes. He didn’t curse you or belittle you for leaving. He thanked you for coming back. You didn’t expect it. He waited for you for 7 years. He was completely devoted. Even if you never came back, you’re sure he would die before giving his heart to another. In his mind, nobody is qualified enough to have his heart besides you. His heart only wants you.

It was so overwhelming, you began to cry, but he didn’t yell. He didn’t tell you to stop crying. He didn’t tell you that you had no reason to be crying, you shouldn’t be upset because you were the one who left. No, he didn’t do any of that.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so humiliated. I’m so sorry for leaving. I shouldn’t have done that. I was stupid.” You spoke between gasps and choked sobs which only made his chest hurt. No matter what, he’d always care for you. No matter how many times you leave, tell him it won’t work out or distance yourself, he’d welcome you right back home with open arms because his embrace is your home.

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t cry.” He gently pulls you closer towards him, cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears with the pads of his thumb, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Aren’t you mad? How do you not hate me?” You looked up at him with a look he knew all too well. Glassy eyed, cheeks stained with tear streaks, and swollen lips as you let out small huffs, trying to control your emotions and steady your breathing.

“I’m not mad. I could never hate you. You could tell me 100 times over that you want nothing to do with me and I wouldn’t stop loving you.”

“But I left you.”

“And you came back. That’s all that matters.”

Hearing him say that made guilt wash over your body, hitting you like a truck. There are still many unresolved problems in your life. You can’t promise to stay by his side, but you’ll try.

“Where are you staying tonight?” He asks, playing with the ends of your now wet hair, a habit he never let go of.

“Shoko’s.”

“Tell her you’re coming with me. We have a lot to talk about.”

You nod as he takes your hand, leading you away from the party to the train station.

His fingers lace with yours so perfectly, almost engulfing your hand entirely. You missed the feeling of being with him, next to him.

“So tell me..” He began.

“Hm?”

“Why’d you leave?” The question came out calmly, but in reality, his heart is racing, dying to know.

“I had some personal issues that I needed to resolve.”

He looks down at you and cracks a small smile.

“Cmon, don’t you think I deserve an explanation? I wanna know everything that happened while you were gone.”

You furrow your brows, unsure of how to put it in words without making yourself out to be an idiot.

“I felt stuck.”

“In our relationship?”

“No, not at all. That was what delayed my move in the first place.”

He nods at your words, putting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you into the train. You both sit down and he drapes an arm around you, leaning your head on his chest.

“Go on.”

“Being a jujutsu sorcerer wasn’t for me. It wasn’t the kind of life I wanted. I felt that by staying in Japan, working in that field I would regret not pursuing what I wanted in the first place.”

“And what was that?” He made sure to be attentive while you spoke, wanting to really grasp what motivated you to pack up and disappear for all this time.

“Fashion. I had dreamed of becoming a fashion designer for years. Originally, I only planned to stay in Japan for 1-2 years to practice sorcery upon my parents request, but then I met you and it prompted me to stay longer. I watched too many things happen, lost people right before my eyes. And each time it did, I started to wonder if that was really what I wanted to continue doing for a lifetime before making the decision to move and pursue my dreams. I applied for a job in America, they accepted, offered to fly me out, so I took the deal. It was an opportunity I felt I couldn’t pass up.”

“Couldn’t you have talked it out with me? We could’ve figured something out. I wouldn’t have a problem moving to be with you.”

While he understands where you’re coming from and doesn’t blame you one bit because if you’re happy, then he’s happy, it just hurt him a little to hear that you couldn’t go to him about it.

“That’s the problem. I knew you would drop everything to be with me, but it wouldn’t be the right thing for you to do. You’re needed here. You’re the strongest. Who knows what could’ve possibly happened if you decided to come with me? We had two different things going for us in life. It just wouldn’t work out.”

He doesn’t know how to respond. You’re right and he can’t deny that.

“I get it. So, what do you do for work?”

“I have my own clothing line.”

“Really? And how’s that going?”

“Amazing. It’s gotten pretty big. I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it. It’s why I flew back in the first place. My manager thought it’d be a good idea to expand the company worldwide.”

“Huh? Good for you. I’m proud of you. I couldn’t possibly blame you for leaving if it were to follow your passion and make a good living out of it.”

“So you’re saying you would be mad at me if I had any other reason?” You say, sarcastically, knowing he would still love you no matter the reason.

“Yup. I would fall in love with another and forget about you.” He laughs, darting his tongue out and poking at your side, making you jolt.

“Stop tickling me!” You laugh in between breaths and attempt to claw at his wrist.

The sounds of both your laughter fill the quiet train. Some people turn to look at you, but neither of you care. You’ve missed being able to laugh and smile with each other after so long.

“Okay, okay, try to sleep for a little while. You’re probably tired since you flew in early in the morning and the train won’t get to Tokyo for another hour and a half.” He says, releasing the hold he had on your sides to tuck you comfortably into him like he used to.

You happily curl into him, attempting to make yourself as warm as possible with his body heat. You’re completely worn out and he realizes that.

Immediately, you’re fast asleep Your breathing is heavy as your chest heaves up and down, enjoying the familiarity and comfort of his hold.

He strokes strands of hair away to get a better look at your face. He traces his thumb along your cheek, over your plump lips down to your jawline before pulling out his phone and taking a picture. He wants to remember this.

[agentsofmarvel]

some of my favorite agents of shield fun facts (season 3 edition) (part 1!!)

season one & two fun facts are on my page!! this may be the last season i do though :)

- the little tagline they used in the writers room for season two was “what will i become?” to reference skye’s new powers and learning about her family, coulson’s new position as director, and other character changes. in season three the tagline became “what have i become?” showing the characters evolution into season three and onwards.

- many of the writers also said that the season focused on emotional balance between characters. it was focused on the emotional connection between may & andrew, daisy & lincoln, coulson & rosalind, and fitz & simmons.

- after being taken by the monolith at the end of season two, elizabeth got no confirmation that jemma was alive and she still had a job playing her until being brought back for season three months later.

- the writers were a bit unsure of mack’s character evolution after season two but when they saw henry simmons acting they immediately saw “leading man material” and began to discuss him as a possible director.

- they had a “skye jar” in the writers room when writing season three because everyone kept forgetting daisy and writing skye.

- apparently jed & maurissa’s newborn guest starred in the first episode [03x01] sometime during the opening scene with joey. i watched the episode on Disney+ and i couldn’t find her though, maybe y’all can! [the bts picture i found has her in a blue stroller, dm me for the pic if you want!]

- the inhuman lash is played by matthew willig, a former NFL offensive tackle. he was chosen because not only his huge stature but his previous acting work. he had to take 4 hours in the makeup chair daily for the role.

- the character rosalind price was created to give coulson a role other than “the surrogate father”. both the writers and clark wanted to give him a romantic role. however, when they talked about her to the costume department they described her as a “female coulson”.

- as skye was written as the “eyes of the audience” in season one and bobbi was the same for season two, the writers created the character of joey gutierrez as the eyes of the audience of season 3 with inhumans.

- the writers created the relationship between daisy introducing joey into shield/inhumans to mirror coulson introducing skye into shield back in season one.

- joey’s character was supposed to be a more permanent character in the following seasons but actor who plays him, juan pablo raba, had just booked another show and he couldn’t do both.

- according to the costume designers, they describe coulson’s season three look as his “bad ass civilian look”

———

i am working on more season three facts rn, but i wanted to post some now!! also i wanted to take this time to show my support for the writers currently on strike (some of which wrote the scenes we love in aos!), they ask so little for the amazing work they do and i hope they get what they deserve in the near future !!

[wildgirllz]

can i request something? Where bucky is confused by makeup or a certain type of womens clothing?? Tons of humour??

Here you go! <3

Bucky Barnes had never been one to pay much attention to fashion or makeup. As a former assassin and now an Avenger, he was used to wearing practical and comfortable clothes that could withstand battle. However, lately, he had noticed that some of the female Avengers had been wearing some new type of clothing and makeup that he didn't quite understand. He was confused by the bright colors, the different fabrics, and the various styles.

One day, while wandering around the Avengers headquarters, Bucky stumbled upon Y/N, his girlfriend, who was getting ready for a night out. She was standing in front of a mirror, applying some lipstick and eye shadow, and Bucky couldn't help but stare in amazement.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" he asked, completely bewildered by the array of tubes and pots scattered around her.

"I'm getting ready for a night out with the girls," Y/N replied, smiling at him.

Bucky furrowed his brow. "But why do you need all of that stuff on your face? You look beautiful just the way you are."

Y/N chuckled. "Thanks, babe, but this is just for fun. It makes me feel pretty"

Bucky was still confused. "I don't understand. Why would you want to wear all of that stuff? Doesn't it feel weird?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not really. It's just like wearing armor or a uniform. It makes me feel confident."

Bucky nodded slowly, still unsure. "Okay, I guess I can see that. But what about these clothes? They're so different from what you usually wear. How do you even move in them?"

Y/N laughed. "They're called dresses, Bucky. And they're designed to be comfortable and easy to wear. Trust me, you'd be surprised how much you can move in them."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Y/N. They look a little...restrictive."

Y/N grinned mischievously. "Oh, really? Well, why don't you try one on and see for yourself?"

Bucky's eyes widened in horror. "What? No way! I can't wear a dress! I'm a man!"

Y/N shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you ever want to understand what it's like to wear women's clothes, you have to try it on at least once."

Bucky shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no. I'm not doing it."

Y/N pouted. "Please, Bucky? It would be so cute! And I promise I won't make you wear it out in public."

Bucky sighed. "Fine. But just this once, okay?"

Y/N beamed. "Yay! Okay, let me find something for you to wear."

Bucky watched in horror as Y/N rummaged through her closet, pulling out various dresses and skirts. Finally, she settled on a light blue sundress with a floral pattern.

"Here you go," she said, holding it up for him to see.

Bucky gulped. "I don't know about this, Y/N. It looks...girly."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "That's kind of the point, Bucky. Now, go put it on and come back here so I can see how cute you look."

Bucky reluctantly took the dress and disappeared into the bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, Y/N gasped.

"Oh my god, Bucky, you look adorable!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Bucky looked down at himself in disbelief. The dress was soft and flowy, and he had to admit, it felt kind of nice against his skin. But he still felt silly.

"I feel ridiculous," he grumbled.

Y/N walked up to him and took his hand. "You look amazing, Bucky!"

Bucky nodded slowly, a newfound respect for women's fashion and beauty routines dawning on him. "Yeah, I think I'm starting to get it."

Y/N beamed. "I knew you would. And you know what? You look so cute in that dress that I think we should take some pictures to remember this moment."

Bucky groaned, but he couldn't help but smile at Y/N's enthusiasm. They spent the next hour taking silly photos of Bucky in the dress, trying out different makeup looks, and laughing until their sides hurt. By the end of it, Bucky had to admit that he had a newfound appreciation for women's fashion and beauty, and he felt closer to Y/N than ever before.

Feel free to leave requests! <3

[k-martins]

So, I recently made a post talking about kny Au! Itafushi and I was so happy to receive positive feedback! So I decided to get to work!

So come with me for the Slayer Design!Megumi Fushiguro

I confess that all the research for the character design is my favorite part! I had to look for different types of Haori, Japanese masks, katana designs to start drawing and I loved every minute spent on Pinterest.

I was really unsure about what the haori would look like. I was tempted to do something black and white because of the dogs (which, yes, Megumi has them in this AU. It's not an Itafushi Au if Shiro and Kuro aren't present at some point), but I decided to do something based on the jujutsu uniforms of the first season. The shade of blue is very pretty and suits Megs. :D

I also changed the buttons to the ones used on the jujutsu uniform! I love those swirls.

The white petals are from lilies that represent Tsumiki (I really want to draw her for this Au too!!!!)

One thing I liked adding to Megs' nichirin is the Mahoraga symbol!!!! I still haven't thought about what Megs' breathing type is, so I'm accepting suggestions (I thought of a similar breathing to Obanai's, but I need to research more about KNY's power system to be sure :D)

In the middle of developing Megs' design I realized that I want to include as many JJK references as I can think of. Nue, Mahoraga and Megs's own mask are an example of this.

And yes!!!!, Nobara is Megs' best friend!!! More information coming soon LOL.

This is the first time I have fully invested in an idea. I plan to write this and post it on AO3 as soon as I get the chance!

I'm very excited about this Au and knowing that there are people who want to see where this goes makes me even more committed :D

[luka-couffaine-ship-tournament]

Round 1 Side A - Pair 1

CAMPAIGN

Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

-They‘re just so good for each other. Luka is such a calming presence in Marinette‘s chaotic life and helps her relax when she feels anxious and unsure of herself, always willing to be there for her and offer a helping hand during tough times. Marinette has a deep appreciation not only for Luka‘s ability to play music but also hear heart songs, as if she understood immediately what he meant after listening to him play for the first time. They feed off each other‘s creative energy and are just generally so wholesome together. I could talk about them forever, they make me so happy!!

-Luka is the best boy, and deserves love from the girl he adores

-I just woke up and am too lazy to think of words for my favorite couple so here's some gifs as propaganda

Gif de gifs-misc

Gif de bizarrelovesquare

Gif de notasiren21

Gif de ouiladybug

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Luka Couffaine/Sabrina Raincomprix

-Listen, Sabrina needs someone who treats her well, she needs someone who considers her an equal and someone to show her what real love is like. And I truly and honestly think that she would try her best to understand and appreciate Luka but who he really is (if she can see the good in Chloe she is capable of seeing a God when she meets one)

-Vote lukabrina people. We cant lose this!

-This is just unfair we need to help our girl out!

I'll start!

Item Number One: Viperhound Is S Tier

This is the fucking duo right here, this is endlessly clever and positive tag team action, this is a pair who will NOT fail the mission alright?

They are designed so interestingly parallel and then put right next to each other in this sweeping shot of the new miraculous squad???

Like, am I supposed to not assume something about it??

Item Number Two: opposites contrast

Orange and Blue, extremely Sun and Moon energy, but I don't think that would make this ship sail smoothly. See, Luka likes being a moon. He is happy to support and enjoys being someone's shining beacon in the endless dark of night, and no one needs that kind of anchor to hold onto more than Sabrina right now. Sabrina cut ties with her best and only friend and while we see her hanging out with other classmates just fine, we don't really know how she is with being actual friends with people. I don't think anyone has tries to reach out to her since evillustrator and we saw in that episode how she approaches new potential connections. Overwhelmingly cheerful and warm and oppressively clingy, like a ray of sunlight that won't leave your eyesight on the hottest day of the year. She means well but, boy, she can be a lot. And more importantly, she needs to be the one helping because, what kind of friend is she if she isn't? Who is she if she's not doing everything for everybody else? It would, amusingly and annoyingly and endearingly, put her into conflict with Luka, who is similarly always pushing his own problems aside to help people with theirs. This would lead them into a loving rivalry of "take care of yourself" "no u" that goes both ways, a back and forth that ends with them reluctantly letting the other help them. And after so many years as someone's shadow, Sabrina deserves to have someone in her orbit, someone she shines a light on when he needs to be seen.

Item Number Three: YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE

Look I'm SORRY okay, but I have to say this even tho I also think their ship got done dirty by the show, I still think they wouldn't have lasted. I think Marinette and Luka being "too easy" is exactly their problem, as even if they didn't have everything else to worry about Marinette needs complexity or she starts to lose her mind overthinking things and goes looking for it. The simple nature of her relationship with Luka is what 13 year old Marinette needed, the Marinette who wasn't Ladybug yet, who hadn't stood up to Chloe and maybe even just had her heart broken in a mean prank. It makes sense she'd fall in love with and gravitate towards this living embodiment of all the comfort and security she wished she had, she had desperately needed at that time. But that's just it, she needed it then. And now she can rely on herself a lot better, she has a whole support system to fall back on, and what she needs from a romantic partner is something else. But Sabrina? She's done horrible things in the name of her friendship with Chloe and even enjoyed some of them, but had finally hit her limit of how much abuse she can both dish out and take herself. Sabrina can definitely recognize that Luka is a good person, but more importantly Luka would have to actually try to sympathize with a person, rather than just immedietely like them. Lest we forget, Sabrina is the one who locked Juleka in the bathroom on picture day. Chloe told her to but Sabrina physically did it. Being confronted with someone who hurt his sister but is, herself, hurting, and is determined to help everyone but herself will be a lot of conflicting emotions for Luka, and Sabrina would need to get used to being the center of someone else's attention in a way not entirely dissimilar to how Chloe was for her, although significantly less codependent.

What makes Lukabrina interesting isn't that they're perfect for each other or that it's immedietly easy.

It's awkward and messy and they clash, they push each other out of their comfort zones and find a new one to settle in together.

It isn't instant or love at first sight, but by resolving their issues with each other through communication, honesty and trust, they are able to become a happy and wholesome couple.

Don't fucking tell me the odds lol, I know they're probably not winning but they deserve a fighting chance. So please feel free to add your own Lukabrina Viperhound propaganda!

TAG:

Luka/Marinette - @mikoriin

Luka - Twitter @Karma_sensei_

@lukacouffaineappreciation

[ephemeral-roses]

Since it's been months, I am now forcing myself to be a brave little boy to post my process on my version of Ares, along with some art of Aphrodite. And sorry if the post is tagged weirdly, I still am unsure how to properly tag posts. I post every blue moon, so I don't think I still have an understanding of it.

These are my most recent and decent art of him, and I got a few notes on his design.

● His first scar is the one on his cheek, but it wasn't from any war or battle. When he was younger, he was exactly what one would imagine Ares to be, very arrogant and proud, with fighting on his mind despite having never been to any battles. He would play a game where he and someone would spar, and whoever gets the biggest scar wins. Hermes lost, only because he was so good at it.

● The tattoos he has are from Thrace, where he is said to have been born and was his favorite place. The symbol on the back of his hand is a snake, relating to them being one of his sacred animals.

And here is some art of him I made a few months ago, based on some paintings I've found of him. My favorite genre of Ares art is when he is dorned with flowers, the Erotes are playing with his weapons, and he is very happy with Aphrodite. It makes me very delighted.

Speaking of Aphrodite, this is what she looks like. I got a few notes on her personality and design.

● Since she is Aphrodite, she is very vain, focusing on her physical appearance a lot and becoming emotional whenever someone undermines or doubts her beauty, with the ability to become wrathful.

● But, as a mother, she is able to self-love aside for her children, putting her entire attention to them. Before she gets with Ares, she has already had a handful of children with previous lovers. Ares doesn't mind, of course.

● Her design is, of course, based on her origins from the sea and her being a sea goddess.

● She emerged from seafoam but was then taken in by Dione.

● Despite valuing her appearance and the way she presents herself and encouraging others to do the same, she does have one little quirk she inherited from her years living in the ocean. She eats like a beast, especially when it comes to seafood. When it is in her sight, she is devouring it like a wildwoman. This is just being very silly and having fun. Don't worry about it.

● Her little, uh, braid thing (I guess, I don't know what you'd call it exactly, I'm not good with hair) is divided into 7 sections, for the 7 types of Greek love. I'm gonna be transparent here. This is me trying to sound clever and creative when I'm not.

● When she is upset, whether sad or angry, her body starts resorting back to water and seafoam. I still can't find out how to draw it, unfortunately, even though the visuals look cool in my mind.

I am gonna try to post more frequently, especially the designs I've come up for the other gods. So far, this is all I could bring my energy to post.