#a thousand christmas wishes

[allthingsscented]

really liking sleigh rides & snuggles this winter 🌲❄️

[winterthings22]

[deefighter2739]

Cleaning through my old stuff is funny bc every 12 seconds I find another origami crane

[klapollo]

george michael, who died seven years ago today, spent his life making private donations to organizations fighting AIDS, homelessness and poverty, including a donation to omwabini in west kenya that helped it grow to new heights. one story alleges he overheard a stranger in a cafe speaking of her debts and had a waitress give her a check he wrote for 25,000 pounds after he left. he anonymously volunteered at homeless shelters. he held a free concert for NHS nurses for his gratitude for his mother's care during her battle with breast cancer. sali hughes stated that he once tipped a barmaid five thousand pounds to help with her debts. he facilitated a trip for 250 disabled and terminally ill children to take a holiday vacation to lapland. when doing press for his big album drop for "older," he gave the exclusive to big issue, a paper devoted to helping unhoused people make income. he donated thousands to two separate women who he saw on television trying to pay for IVF -- one of them found out she was pregnant the day he died. radio dj mick brown said george quietly donated 100,000 pounds every easter to Help a London Child to support poor children.

these are only a few of the charitable acts he did. he did many of these things anonymously, intentionally so. but the thing is when you do so many things that touch so many lives, they tend to outlive you long after you're gone. i think of him every Christmas, and i wish he was still with us. but i'm glad we had him at all.

[barbieaemond]

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

[khruschevshoe]

the final scene of merlin was so unnecessary and for what. traumatizing an entire country on christmas eve with the implications that the magical twink with the death wish has spent 1500+ years waiting by that mother fucking lake for his wet golden retriever of a mythical noble boyfriend to come back. and it DOESNT EVEN END WITH A REUNION. haunting. jail for ten thousand years. i am devouring it with pita chips and hummus.

[smutoperator]

A Joyful Christmass

Park Sooyoung (Joy) x Male Reader

Tags: anal, cheating, christmas, creampie, facesitting, full nelson, (lots of) spanking

Word count: 3133.

It seemed like just another boring christmas. Stuck at home on a very cold day, you had resigned yourself to spending the holiday alone, watching some shows on TV, and preparing some food for yourself. You tried to call your cute friend, but she left you on voicemail, probably banging some dude. The hours passed by, and nothing new seemed to happen. You talked to your brother, who was thousands of miles away, wishing him a merry Christmas, but the boredom continued. You picked some snacks and watched the turkey, taking it out of the oven. It turns out you didn't even want to eat it; you were just feeling upset that you were going to spend the holiday alone. "What's the point of holidays if no one is around you?" you asked.

"Maybe I have a last chance, but she most likely won't answer, probably spending the holidays with her ugly ass boyfriend." You had a person in mind for your last call, but it was essentially a last-ditch prayer. She was taken and most likely wasn't going to come to your house in such cold weather. However, to your surprise, the doorbell started to ring. It was Joy You prepared yourself as you opened the door to a pretty woman in black hair and her nice-shaped body, looking at her from bottom to top, from her heavy boots protecting her wonderful thighs to her large coat covering her body to her pretty smile.

"Come in, Sooyoung", you told her. "Nice place you got here", she answered back, placing her right hand on your neck. It turns out she was just as bored as you, and even worse, her man had not come see her on Christmas. "You still look cute, baby", Joy smiled at you after a long time without seeing each other. She asked you where the bedroom was, and you guided her. "Have a seat", she told you, pointing towards the bed. "I think we both know why you called me; we've known each other for years", she continued. "I don't know what you mean", you tried to pretend, but Joy wasn't having it. She just smiled and took her coat off, leaving just the nightgown she had under it.

"You don't? Then let me show you", Joy pushed her gown up, showing her toned ass cheeks under the gown and her red undies. She slowly started going down, showing her big ass right into your face, shaking it up and down, and letting her fat cheeks move, before putting it back inside the gown and shoving you into the bed. Joy quickly climped on top of you and pulled the top of her gown to the side, flashing her tits, before moving towards you and smothering them against your face. "Don't worry, baby, as long as you make mommy happy, you can put it wherever you want it", hearing Joy call herself mommy suddenly woke up the tent under your pants. It didn't feel like she was already an almost 10-year industry veteran; she still felt so youthful to your eyes.

You kept sucking Sooyoung's wonderful pair of tits. If it depended only on you, that could keep going forever, but she had different plans. Joy climbed on top of you and put her fat butt on top of your face, twerking it on you. She then pulled her panties to the side, letting you eat her pussy. "Oh fuck", she groaned, letting her cheeks hit the side of your face. "Oh yeah, let me ride that fucking face; smoother you with this ass", she continued as she kept moaning, taking off her gown and fully revealing her red Christmas-themed lingerie. As you groaned under her ass, Joy took her bra off and stared to laugh, switching sides on top of you, still with her panties barely on,= She grinded her pussy on your mouth and started searching for your pants.

As Joy popped your cock out of your pants, you grabbed her ass, trying to make her moan harder as you were eating her folds under her. She didn't need any hands, sucking your cock, just dunking her head against your hips, and going up and down your shaft, leaving her lipstick marks on it. You couldn't resist and thrust upwards against her mouth, but she didn't gag at all. "Oh yes", you said as you hit the depths of her throat, as she only pulled out after a long succession of thrusts. A little jerkoff, and she was back into it, giving you the sexiest 69 you had ever witnessed.

You spanking her ass after she was done was what she needed to take off her panties, leaving her wearing just her black stockings and high heels on, turning around to let her ass face you as she also fingered her pussy with both hands. Your mouth joined it and also started stimulating her, taking turns between her pink pussy and her round anus before circling your thumb around her clit, her moans were music to her years. "Such a beautiful ass", you said to Joy before sticking your index finger in her asshole. She didn't say anything; she just let her moans do the talking. You then spanked her ass a few times and spat in her asshole, getting it ready as you slapped your shaft against her anal entrance.

Joy let out a long moan as you shoved your cock up her butthole. "Oh my God, you're such a freak. Oh my fucking God", she said as you grabbed her cheeks and started pumping in and out of her asshole. "Yes, yes, yes", you kept saying as your left hand grabbed her hair and your right hand grabbed her cheeks. "Destroy my fucking asshole", she demanded as you started pumping harder and deeper. Her hole was still very tight; maybe her boyfriend didn't fuck her ass at all or his cock was too small to reach the depths of it, unlike yours. Her cheeks clapped hard, letting out loud sounds at each thrust. You spanked her ass multiple times until you managed to finally stick it full length inside her butthole.

Joy let out a painful scream with your cock stretching her out fully. You slapped her ass again in approval: "Such a beautiful ass", As she stuck her tongue out and gave you some more out-of-breath moans and yet another beautiful smile, you pulled out as she smiled to you, treating her cheeks to some more beating and massaging them, before sticking your cock back inside, pressing her head against the bedsheets as she kept moaning, then groping her tits before you gave her right boob a massive slap. "Oh, you're so good", she kept saying as you grabbed her hair and stretched her asshole even further as she started screaming.

"OH FUCK YESSSS!" Joy yelled as you grabbed her by the hair and face, putting your finger inside her loud mouth and making the bed crack. She panted out of breath before diving her head back to the bed. "Oh fuck, you're so deep in my ass", she said, closing her eyes and increasing the speed of the painful pounding she was taking, your balls slapping hard against the entrance of her vagina. "Yes, baby, slap those balls in my fucking clit", she demanded as you kept going harder and harder until she fully lost her breath.

With her still trying to recover, you stuck your cock in her beautiful pussy, placing both hands in her tits as you stretched it out. "You're gonna make me fucking cum if you keep fucking me like this", Joy said. You had some mercy for her, pulling out as she bounced her ass in the air for a few seconds before going back in, grabbing and clapping her fat cheeks. "Right there, right there, right there. OH MY GODDDDDD!", she kept screaming, almost crying. But things were only going to get rougher for Joy. As you placed your right foot in her head and pumped as hard as ever against her cunt, she smiled while her moans were almost like a cry for help, looking defenseless as you stretched her out.

The noises coming out of the bed were louder than ever. You placed your whole weight against Joy's body, stomping on her sorry crying head as you destroyed her pussy, your balls smacking her entrance harder than ever. "Give me, give me that fucking cock, harder", it was all she could say as you kept pounding her fuckhole until you finally showed some mercy and pulled out after a long stretch, but not without spanking her butt again.

Joy turns around, ready to taste her juices. You quickly press her head against your hips and grab her hair as she moves up and down your cock. Her ability to suck your big shaft without gagging definitely impresses you. She moves harder, fucking her face and swinging your cock left and right inside her mouth, but she still takes it just fine. Another hard facefuck follows, this time with you fingering her pussy down low. "AHHHHH FUCK!" you scream as Joy's deepthroat almost makes you cum right there. Joy sticks her tongue out like a needy puppy as you grab her throat. You slap your cock against her tongue before she goes back to sucking you, moving her body while doing so, and coating your cock with saliva while also playing with your balls.

She then puts her back against the bed, once again sticking her tongue out as she jerks you off. Joy masturbates herself as she gets ready for another round of face-fucking. You top her, sticking your cock deep in her throat while eating her pussy. "Ah yes, yes, yes, yes," you groan as you keep fucking her mouth. Joy finally cracks, leaving room for you to amp up the stimulation in her clit as she gets throatfucked. "Oh my God, your mouth is so slutty!" you exclaim as you keep fucking it and pinching her clit. Joy flips herself out, getting back on her knees to stroke your cock, her tongue out before she gives it a nasty blowjow, spitting all over it. After a while, you had enough of her shenanigans, grabbing her throat once more and even spitting on her whore face, slapping her as you once again filled her mouth with your cock.

"AH AH AH AH AH AH AH!" Joy starts to scream as you keep throating her and messing with her hair. "You're a fucking devil", you say as saliva flows out of her mouth. You lie your body in bed as Joy climbs on top of you, spanking her ass as she grinds on your cock before putting it back in her pussy, bouncing her ass hard as she rides you. "Easy, easy, easy", you tell her. "FUCKKKKKK!" she screams; maybe she should have indeed listened to your advice as she gets impaled. Up and down, but also sideways Joy makes sure for your cock to hit her hole at every angle as she bounces on you. She moans and inhales hard with your prick inside her. "Holy shit", you exclaim as her ass moves against your hips.

Joy is ready for a bigger challenge and quickly switches back to her asshole. "Yes, yes, yes, yes", you say as her anus wraps around your cock. You grab her cheeks as you keep stretching her out, and she rides you. You turn things around as you start thrusting upwards, pounding her ass from down low, Joy moans in pain as you hit her anal walls hard and smash your balls in her ass. You go so fast that your cock slips out of her asshole, but she quickly makes sure to put it back in. After all, she loves the pain, answering back with a ride of her own like an amazon riding a big horse. You grab Joy by her hair once more and answer back, making her scream again, before letting her take full control as you smile in pleasure.

Every day is a struggle for Joy, but she keeps going, riding you harder as she switches back to her pussy. You cheer her on with more spanks on her cheeks. "OH yes, I'M CUMMING", she yells after a few more rides. You grab her sensitive nipples as she keeps bouncing. After a few grinds, you take back control and pound Joy's pussy from below with a firm grip on her cheeks, her body pressing against yours. You groan a lot, and Joy can't stop moaning. "SHHHHHH", you tell her, tired of her screaming and crying so much. "Bounce on that fucking cock", you order her as you continue to spank her butt. Joy opts for a straight bounce, which drives you crazy, before she takes a few extra slow rides and pulls out.

At this point, Joy's hair is extremely messy, her makeup is ruined, and her lipstick is almost gone, but there is still enough to cover your cock as she drinks her juices from it. "You're such a fucking whore", you tell her as she sucks and jerks you off, playing with your balls. After a while, following another spank, she puts your cock back in her pussy. As you pound her in reverse and grab her tits, balls once again slap on her clit, crying sounds come out of Joy's mouth. She answers back with her craziest ride so far, making you exclaim, "Holy shit". But as soon as her legs start to tremble, you go back to hard-pounding Joy, hitting her pussy at full speed. She grabs your balls and fingers her pussy as you hit her insides, before a deep pound makes her scream and stop everything. Pinching her nippes, you push your cock even faster, rendering her completely submissive.

After a while, you pull out and slap your dick against her sensible clit that makes her squirt, before surprising Joy with a quick entry back inside her asshole. "Ruin my fucking holes" is all she can say. You keep destroying her asshole until she has to stop once again as you hit her deep. Her tits get a lot of attention as they bounce at each thrust, and you grab them. "Yes, baby, go deep", you tell her as she recovers and bounces her ass back. "Oh my God", you groan as she grinds laterally, shaking your cock inside her anus. You punish her by spanking her tits, which only makes her go harder, before you put her legs up in the air and give Joy an anal full nelson. After some poundings, you tilt her body left but stay fucking her asshole hard and deep.

"That's it, that's it, that's it", you say as you pull out of Joy, who tried to taste her anal juice like a crazy dumb whore. You quickly take her mouth out of your cock. "Calm down, whore; put that tongue back in", you tell her, but she keeps showing her tongue like she's some lizard. Joy looks utterly wasted as you start to play with her, grabbing your cock to prevent her from sucking it, then holding her by the hair. Once she finally gets to it, you lock her head under your legs, only freeing her after she gags, followed by pounding her face in a similar fashion to the one you just did to her pussy and ass, going so hard that her lipstick gets marked in the base of your cock.

"Stop being a dumb whore, Joy; it's Christmas", you tell her, putting Joy in a romantic spooning position as you finger her pussy before sticking your dick back inside her. You grab her sexy, thick thighs as you passionately fuck her, staring at her moaning face the whole time. When you reach the depths of her pussy, you spank her thighs and finger her, then switch to some more neck-grabbing as you pound her. "OHHHHH FUCK YESSS!" she screams as you stretch her shaved cunt out before pulling out and fingering a little bit more as Joy squirts.

But you saved the best for last. With Joy still in that position, you go back inside her ass, giving it very slow but deep thrursts, watching as she smiles, moans, and fingers herself. "Can you please cum inside me, baby? Cum inside my  ass, she asks. "Beg harder", you tell Joy as you pinch her nipples. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR CUM", she says in quick succession, her whole left hand inside her pussy while you stretch her butthole for one last time. "Squeeze that fucking asshole", you demand, as she voluntarily lenches her already very gaped hole. Her once tight butthole was completely gone after such rough stretching.

"PLAY WITH THAT PUSSY!" you scream at Joy, firmly grabbing her right thigh with your right hand while she holds hands with you. You get closer as her asshole wraps around your cock, putting your hands in her moaning mouth as you keep punding. You pull out and slap your cock against her clit, asking her to beg a little more. Joy does, and soon you're back in her asshole. "Oh my God, I'm finally cumming in that ass", you tell her. "Fuck yes, baby, give me that cum", Joy pleads. A big smile fills her face, just like, a few seconds later, a big flood of cum fills her shithole as soon as you start groaning. Joy lets out a few more moans before you pull out, getting herself on her knees and spreading her cheeks. In that position, her gaping anus doesn't hold your sperm for long, as she starts farting it out into your bedsheets with a couple bounces of her ass.

Joy wants it all out as she pushes it deep from her anus with her fingers. "Damn, there is so much cum inside me", she says, her white nails covered with your jizz. She digs it up fully, expelling it all from her sore anus. You are also very tired, as even on a cold day, it took you so much energy to fuck that slut. As Joy cools off, she puts her clothes back on and heads back home, where her boyfriend waits for her. For that hour, your Christmas wasn't a lonely one, but you felt so good that you weren't empty anymore (except for your balls, of course) as you watched Joy walk away, with cum still on her thighs. "Merry Christmas, Joy", you tell her. "You too", she replies before walking out of the door. Who knows when it's going to be the next time you'll see her, but even if it's the last, that's enough.

Quick Christmas smut with the wonderful Joy getting her big ass pounded hard. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everybody.

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for blurbcember, how about ❝ don’t tell anyone, but, i spiked the eggnog. ❞ where shy!reader is by herself at a work holiday party, maybe she’s new or just really shy and doesn’t talk to many people, and steve/eddie goes up to her and jokes about spiking the eggnog to break the ice and flirt with her bc he has a crush on her and wants to make her laugh 🥹 totally not based on what i wish would happen to me at my work’s holiday party lmao

ah this is so cute! :D i decided to do this one for steve so i hope you like it!! — steve harrington spends the company holiday party flirting with shy!you (friends to lovers, shy!reader, fluff, 1.9k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The quiet mouse and the personality hire walk into an office holiday party.

It’s like the start of a really bad joke.

You try to be as enthusiastic as you can about the whole thing, but spending the last half of your day socializing with coworkers who've never looked your way before now isn’t exactly thrill-inducing. Neither is having to hear “Oh, I didn’t know you actually spoke” a thousand times over.

You just don’t want the lecture about being a team player just because you have a harder time talking than most people do. Everyone knows you’d rather be at your desk, anyway. That’s what you do best — keep your head down and get your work done.

But Steve Harrington? He’s totally in his element.

He flits around the common area with a drink and a smile, making people laugh without even trying. It’s hardly fair.

You don’t know how he does it — or why he chooses to waste his charm on you. You’re hardly deserving of his dumb jokes or his pretty smile, but he’s stuck to you like glue, anyway.

He leaves your side only once. To get you another cup of eggnog because you were too scared to cut through the crowd for seconds. “Here you go,” the pretty boy croons as he hands you the plastic cup with a strong, golden hand.

You mutter a small “thanks” under your breath when you take it from him. At least, Steve thinks you do. You’re so quiet it’s hard to make the words out sometimes.

He pushes his sweater sleeves up to his elbows — a deep evergreen with a cream stripe around the chest, lined with several little Christmas trees — and leans against the wall beside you.

He towers over you in every way imaginable. It makes it hurt not to cower when he looks your way. Most of all, when he beams at you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks suddenly, nose scrunched and honey eyes sparkling.

Your brows pinch momentarily in confusion before going lax again. “Sure?”

He leans closer to you, his warm scent engulfing you instantly — like morning coffee and woodsy cologne. It’s suffocating, in the nicest of ways, to be this close to him. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but I did actually spike the eggnog,” Steve whispers beneath the cheesy holiday music and distant chatter, quiet enough for only you to hear. 

You laugh before you mean to. 

He laughs because you are.

“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” you joke with a shy shrug.

“It’d make this whole thing a lot more tolerable, right?” he scoffs and brings his cup to his mouth. The heavy cream of the eggnog clings to his cupid’s bow before he licks it clean again.

You get quiet for a second, momentarily lost in how pretty he is. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“I think you’re the only person I know that’d rather be working than be here.”

“Well, I’m not really a—” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish until you find the words to say. That happens a lot. It’s why you find it easier not to speak sometimes. “—A social butterfly or whatever, you know?”

“I thought you were gonna say people-person.”

“That, too.”

Steve thinks for a moment, flits his eyes to the ceiling, and juts out his pretty pink lips. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Well, I don’t think that’s totally true.”

Your brows furrow. Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as you thought. “No?”

“No,” he says confidently and with a shake of his neatly styled hair. He swipes his fingers through the intentionally messy strands. Then he shrugs. “Well, I mean, maybe. But I would say you are a Steve-person, you know?”

Your face screws up. His attempts to flirt with you don’t land.

He quickly tries to explain himself. “I just mean that— you know— that you don’t let everyone know you the way you let me know you.”

He gets all shy about it, but you think he might be right. 

Steve Harrington is more than just magnetic. He’s the kind of person that draws you in and opens you like a flower. An ounce of his attention feels like being basked in sunlight. He’s as handsome as life, too. Something holy, maybe. 

It’s his divinity that draws something out of you, you think.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re different from everyone else,” you shrug instead of elaborating on the dramatic religious metaphor in your head. Your gaze falls to the untouched cup between your palms. It’s easier to look at but much less interesting than the melting honey in Steve’s eyes.

He grins all sweet even though you’re not looking at him to see it.

“You mean prettier?” he jokes.

“Yeah,” you scoff and smile before you realize it. “No one’s competing with those dimples, Harrington.”

He beams. It basks you in golden sunlight. 

Something about the way he looks at you is comforting. Nostalgic. It makes you feel safe. Makes you feel brave enough to raise a trembling hand to his scruffy jaw and poke gently at the dimple in his left cheek.

“You just make it easier to talk. I guess.”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I love hearing you talk.”

You squint playfully up at him. “Is that because you’re usually the one talking all the time?”

He nods. “That’s exactly why.”

You laugh, and it sounds like stars falling over his skin. 

“It just feels easy to me, you know? Being around you and everything,” Steve shrugs to pretend like you don’t stir something sort of poetry in his chest. “I just think you’re cool. Exactly the way you are. And, you know, when you apologize for being too quiet or too complicated or whatever— it makes me wanna kick the world’s ass for making you feel that way. ‘Cause you’re, like, one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

For a second or more, you’re not totally sure what to say. And not in the way you usually are. This is different. This feels like there’s sunshine in your throat, and you can’t speak a word through it. This feels like being so choked up you could cry.

No one’s ever been this nice to you, you think. No one’s ever been so kind to you about the thing you hate most about yourself.

You swallow through the sun rays and muster a wavering smile.

“See what I mean?” You try to laugh, but the words get caught in your throat. You cough once to clear it. “I have to talk to you because no one else will say such nice things to me.”

“And that’s just a shame. ‘Cause saying nice things to you is basically my favorite hobby.”

You laugh again, even though he’s not really joking.

“Like, if I could get paid to do it, I’d be out of this shithole in a second.”

You smile up at him, so wide it makes your eyes squint and your nose scrunch. No one else could stir such a loud emotion from the quiet you are. No one else but Steve.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Counting the Minutes

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.

Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.

They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens. 

Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.

Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.

It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.

Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

“Hello, you.”

His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.

“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.

“How long can you talk for?” He asks.

“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”

“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”

She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.

“You think we could talk for that long?” 

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”

“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.

“Can’t really do that over the phone.”

“Have you ever had phone sex before?”

She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”

It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.

“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.

“What does it entail?”

“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”

“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“What?”

“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”

“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”

“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”

His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.

“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”

She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.

“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”

A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.

“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”

She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”

He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”

Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.

“I’m close,” she pants.

“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”

“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.

A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.

“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”

“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”

She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”

[sareeen]

Meaningful words

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: A lonely night without Azriel is hard enough for Y/N, but when she gets a terribly sad book in her hands, she feels a thousand times worse. Luckily, Azriel is always there when she needs him and can calm her down like no one else.

Warnings: nothing, just fluff :)… maybe at the end a little dark azriel

Masterlist

A/N: After months of hard times, today I finally had the time and the will to write. With this little story today I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas in advance :)

English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake.

Damn you, Nesta.

Y/N could hardly see the letters because of the tears in her eyes and the bottom of the page was already wet in several places. She felt so miserable that she wanted to throw the book away and lie there for two days, weeping in the depths of the bedclothes.

But the story sucked her in, the heroine's suffering and grief dug into her like sharp claws, and she was unable to put the book down. As Azriel was on a mission all night and she could not sleep for lack of it, she took the book that Nesta had borrowed to her. She told her it was a sad story and surely if Nesta Archeron called something depressing then it must be so.

As she kept turning the pages, the harder it was to restrain herself from reaching for the bond with the spymaster and tugging at it, then begging him to come home. But, with great difficulty, she managed to control herself and behave like an adult. However, in the last few hours, as the sun began to rise, she looked at the clock more and more and sat on pins and needles to hear the front door open.

When she started another chapter and the protagonist was hit with yet another worse blow, as if the poor thing hadn't already had a hard time, she sobbed so much that she missed the opening of the door by just the wrong margin.

Azriel stood frozen, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorframe and panting heavily as if he had run all the way home from the Illyrian camp.

"What's wrong?" he stepped inside immediately after the first shock and rushed straight to their bed.

"Stupid book."

The words were almost unintelligible and Y/N pointed the thick book towards him like some kind of idiot and handed it to him.

Azriel held it in his huge hands, clueless, and it was obvious that he didn't understand the situation at all. He looked so lost, which was so unlike him, that if the situation had been different Y/N would have laughed.

But she felt so lousy she just tried not to cry any harder.

It was almost consuming him, it seemed, to see her like this and not know exactly what was wrong with her and how he could help her. So, he just lay next to her, dressed in his battle clothes as he was, and pulled her onto his chest.

It made Y/N cry even more.

"It's so sad," Y/N poked the hard cover of the book. "Nesta gave it to me and now I feel so awful."

Azriel kissed her hair and mumbled something that sounded too much like I'm going to kill that woman.

"Then why are you reading it, sweetheart?" his warm hand traced soothing circles down her back, making her feel a little better. At least enough to form meaningful and complex sentences, and not like some one and a half year old child.

"Because it's so good by the way," she whispered, pressing her palm against Azriel's chest, right where his heart was beating. A small relief welled up inside her and she stroked the leather.

“But it's so sad because Adja the main heroine is losing her mate. He was wounded during a battle and the healers couldn't save him, and then he died."

A shiver ran through her as Azriel's arm tightened around her, almost pulling her into him.

"I've been thinking about what I would do" Y/N sniffed. "If you died, I don't know what I would do. I'd probably jump off the nearest cliff I could find and go after you."

Azriel took a deep breath at her words and cupped her face in his two scarred hands. Y/N looked at him with teary eyes and the way his partner looked at her, with that devotion and adoration, she was absolutely certain that she would indeed go after him to death.

"My love" he gave her a soft kiss on the lips and then wiped away the tear that trailed down her cheek. "I'm not going to die."

"You can't promise me that" Y/N argued at once. "No one can promise that."

Azriel smiled and gave her another kiss.

His lips were warm and soft on hers, causing Y/N's arm to unconsciously wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Their legs tangled together under the blanket and Azriel's shadows retreated to the corner, as if they didn't want to share this intimate moment.

When they broke apart, Azriel's finger brushed her cheek with a breathless caress. The golden-brown eyes almost glowed and Y/N could have sworn they sparkled slightly. She knew that her mate sometimes still struggled to accept that she really loved him. Every once in a while, her heart sank when she sensed through the bond that Azriel doubted himself and at such times she always made sure to surprise him with something to prove that he deserved it more than anyone.

"Indeed not, but I can promise you that I will do my best to stay alive" he grinned and playfully pinched her bottom. "I'll do my best to come home to this pretty little bottom every night."

To enhance his words, he gently patted the said body part.

Y/N gasped in surprise at the sensation and slapped his shoulder, but her mouth was already up to her ears. She felt much, much better thanks to Azriel.

"Good, because you're never leaving the house again" Y/N raised an eyebrow, then added jokingly. "Besides, it's not nice that your partner tearfully admits what she would do if you were gone and all you could think about was her butt. You know, other men would return the favor in a heartbeat, with words like I'd burn the world for you."

Azriel laughed and rolled over, pushing her body with his huge one almost into the mattress, which made Y/N sigh happily.

"Really?" The spymaster asked, brushing her stray hairs from her forehead.

"Yes," Y/N answered seriously, but there was laughter in her voice.

Azriel slowly leaned in to her ear and Y/N shivered with excitement as he began to whisper.

"Do you want to know what I would do if you died?" the spymaster said, but his grip on the words grew a little steely, as if the very thought of it was driving him mad. "I would cover the whole world in darkness and blood, hunt everyone down and when I had finished with all the sinners and all their loved ones, I would end my life and follow you to the afterlife. Proudly and without thinking, because if you no longer exist then the whole world is meaningless and I wouldn't want to exist in it."

Y/N's fingers tangled in Azriel's dark hair.

"That was better than a I'd burn the world down."

Azriel's dark laughter filled the apartment.

"I would do more for you."

[animusrox]

LETTERBOXD

1.   The Batman 2.   Everything Everywhere All at Once 3.   Prey 4.   Triangle of Sadness 5.   Barbarian 6.  The Northman 7.   Bodies Bodies Bodies 8.   The Banshees of Inisherin 9.   Bones and All 10.   Avatar: The Way of Water

Grade A

11.   Turning Red 12.   The Menu 13.   Babylon 14.   Hit the Road 15.   Cow 16.   Watcher 17.   Funny Pages 18.   Mad God 19.   On the Count of Three 20.   Armageddon Time 21.   Terrifier 2 22.   Marcel the Shell with Shoes On 23.   Smile 24.   Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery 25.   Holy Spider 26.   Aftersun 27.   The Fabelmans 28.   Breaking 29.   Decision to Leave 30.   The Whale 31.   All Quiet on the Western Front 32.   Brian and Charles 33.   Piggy 34.   Saint Omer 35.   Thirteen Lives 36.   Men 37.   The Fallout 38.   Resurrection 39.   Causeway 40.  The Black Phone 41.   Official Competition 42.   Nope 43.  Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio 44.   Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood 45.   Till 46.   TÁR 47.   Happening 48.   A Love Song 49.   The Outfit 50.   The Innocents 51.   Jackass Forever 52.   BARDO, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths 53.   Montana Story 54.   Three Thousand Years of Longing 55.   You Won’t Be Alone 56.   The Sadness 57.   Halloween Ends 58.   Pearl 59.   X 60.   Vesper

Click "Keep Reading” For My Full List

Grade B

61.   This Place Rules 62.   Fresh 63.   Windfall 64.   Kimi 65.   No Exit 66.   Top Gun: Maverick 67.   “Sr.” 68.   Farha 69.   The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 70.   Weird: The Al Yankovic Story 71.   Nitram 72.   Speak No Evil 73.   Run Sweetheart Run 74.   She Said 75.   White Noise 76.   Puss in Boots: The Last Wish 77.   V/H/S/99 78.   The Wonder 79.   Women Talking 80.   Hatching 81.   Soft & Quiet 82.   Scream 83.   To Leslie 84.   Hustle 85.   Chip ’n Dale: Rescue Rangers 86.   Dual 87.   God’s Country 88.   Emancipation 89.   Vengeance 90.   Fire of Love 91.   Bullet Train 92.   Incantation 93.   The Valet 94.   Hellraiser 95.   Christmas Bloody Christmas 96.   Significant Other 97.   Cha Cha Real Smooth 98.   Lucy and Desi 99.   Not Okay 100.   A Christmas Story Christmas 101.   Blonde 102.   Deadstream 103.   Sissy

Grade C

104.   The Bad Guys 105.   The Cursed 106.   Empire of Light 107.   A Man Called Otto 108.   Broker 109.   Black Panther: Wakanda Forever 110.   The Princess 111.   Beast 112.   After Yang 113.   RRR 114.   Fall 115.   Jackass 4.5 116.   Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe 117.   Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness 118.   Jennifer Lopez: Halftime 119.   Lightyear 120.   The Pale Blue Eye 121.   The Woman King 122.   Violent Night 123.   God’s Creatures 124.   Ambulance 125.   Elvis 126.   You Are Not My Mother 127.   Emily the Criminal 128.   Crimes of the Future 129.   The Apology 130.   The Lost City 131.   Wendell & Wild 132.   Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 133.   The Found Footage Phenomenon 134.   See How They Run 135.   Spiderhead 136.   Studio 666 137.   Bros 138.   Spin Me Round 139.   We’re All Going to the World’s Fair 140.   Paws of Fury: The Legend of Hank 141.   Honor Society

Grade D

142.   Thor: Love and Thunder 143.   Summering 144.   Strange World 145.   Glorious 146.   The Gray Man 147.   Devotion 148.   Clerks III 149.   The Forgiven 150.   Enola Holmes 2 151.   Father Stu 152.   Jurassic World Dominion 153.   DC League of Super-Pets 154.   She Will 155.   The Bob’s Burgers Movie 156.   Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody 157.   Hellbender 158.   Samaritan 159.   Day Shift 160.   Sonic the Hedgehog 2 161.   Prey for the Devil 162.   Troll 163.   Uncharted 164.  Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile 165.   Dashcam 166.   Firestarter 167.   Do Revenge 168.   Catwoman: Hunted 169.   The Munsters 170.   Amsterdam 171.   Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

Grade F

172.   Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris 173.   The Bubble 174.   Dead for a Dollar 175.   Jerry & Marge Go Large 176.   Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul. 177.   Infinite Storm 178.   Marry Me 179.   Don’t Worry Darling 180.   Spirited 181.   Disney's Pinocchio 182.   Alice 183.   Black Adam 184.   Orphan: First Kill 185.   The Adam Project 186.   The Invitation 187.   Texas Chainsaw Massacre 188.   Ticket to Paradise 189.   The 355 190.   Umma

Bottom 10

191.   Green Lantern: Beware My Power 192.   Deep Water 193.   Where the Crawdads Sing 194.   Blacklight 195.   Mack & Rita 196.   Memory 197.   Me Time 198.   Death on the Nile 199.   Morbius 200.   Moonfall

[allthingsscented]

my body cream matches the flowers my partner got me 🎄

[mariasont]

The Manuscript - A.H

a/n: this was supposed to be based on t.s new song manuscript, but it didn't realllyyy turn out like that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙��♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while unpacking you find a series of letters aaron wrote to you in college

warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, hotch is 40s), haley and jack don't exist in this universe

wc: 1.3k

Your gaze swept over the towering stacks of boxes littering your living room floor, and with a resigned sigh, you began the daunting task of unpacking them. Your hands found the nearest box deftly lifting the flaps as you began to pull out its contents. Your felt the soft crinkle of paper beneath your fingers, and gently, you drew out a stack of letters, their edges softened with time, all neatly tied together with a string. 

Your heart seized a sudden halt as you realized just what they were. Your throat constricted, parched, as tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill over, your fingers coming to rest over your mouth. Instinctively, your body sank onto the cold hardwood floor, gently placing the papers down beside you. You had forgotten these had even existed, let alone made it with you on the move.

You didn't remember seeing them when you packed, did you? Your fingers shook slightly as they picked apart the knot, and with a hesitant touch, you reached for the first piece of weathered paper.

January 5

Honey, 

Your letter was a welcome surprise, far sweeter than any text message could be. I enjoyed spending New Years Eve with you too, and I hope this case ends quickly so I can take you on a real date. 

I'm glad to hear college is going well. Should you encounter any more issues with your professor, please let me know. You're a bright young woman, and I have no doubt he'll see that in time. I am looking forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Aaron

--

March 12

Honey, 

I'm glad you enjoyed our date as much as I did. At times, I find my thoughts wandering to you in that dress, and it's a welcome distraction. 

I'm glad you look forward to our letters, because I do too. And yes, rest assured, I'm taking all necessary precautions in the field. Don't worry, the team has my back, especially Garcia--she's got more eyes on us than stars in the sky. 

Goodluck on your psychology exam. I know you will ace it.

Yours,

Aaron. 

--

May 5

Honey,

I've read your letter several times, and I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to question your path. Trust your instincts--they've led you well thus far. Remember you are allowed to change your mind. Your parents will understand.

No matter what you decide, I have no doubt you will succeed. You have a rare combination of intelligence and empathy that will serve you well in any profession.

Once I'm back, how about we go to that restaurant you love? Consider it a date.

Yours,

Aaron.

--

July 19

Honey,

Summer suits you, I can tell--even from a distance. I'm proud of the work you're doing--shadowing at the occupational therpay office and working with children is no small feat. You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back.

The case is demanding, as they often are. And as for the sweatshirt, consider it yours. I had a feeling it wouldn't find its way back to me anyway.

We should talk about getting you a key to my place. Then you'll have no need to borrow my things--you'll have access to them whenever you wish. 

I love you. I'll say it again when I see you.

Yours forever, 

Aaron

--

January 14

Honey,

Congratulations on your first semester of OT school. I am incredibly proud of you and everything you have accomplished. Smarty pants. 

I'm glad to hear you've been using the journal I gave you for Christmas. I would give you a thousand if that's what you wanted. 

When I'm back, we'll celebrate your achievements properly. Until then, know I'm grateful for you every day. You've made me the happiest I've been, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron 

--

May 20

Honey,

Your last letter lingered on the topic of our age difference, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's a subject that, admittedly, has crossed my mind more than once. But let me reassure you, to me, it's the person you are, not the years you've lived, that matters most.

I understand the concerns that come with this, and I want you to know that it's okay. Your feelings are valid. We're navigating this together, and I remain certain in my commitment to you and to us. 

We'll talk more about this when I'm home. I love you. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

August 8

Honey,

I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave things unresolved, I'm sorry I was called away. I'm not writing to rehash the argument. I understand everything you said, and it's given me much to think about.

You are the most important part of my life, and us being at odds is more challenging than any case I've ever face. I love you deeply, and I'm committed to finding a way through this together. When I return, let's sit down and talk--really talk. I'm sorry for the way things were left, and I hope we can move past this. 

Yours forever,

Aaron

--

December 22

Honey,

I find myself at a loss for words yet compelled to write to you. I've had time to reflect on everything that happened between us. I'm deeply sorry for any hurt I've caused, and how things unfolded. My only wish was for us to want the same things. 

Please know, I will always be here for you, in any capacity you need. I hope you find someone who is worthy of you and can provide the life you deserve. You deserve someone who can walk with you through all stages of your life--someone who can give you the family you dream of. You have so much to offer.

You are an extraordinary person, and I have no doubt you will find great love and joy. And though it may not be with me, please remember, I still love you.

Yours always,

Aaron.

--

You hadn't even realized you were crying until your tears began to soak into the page, each droplet distorting the text as it spread. Your hand moved instinctively to your face, the fabric of your sleeve brushing against your wet cheek. A decade-old ache twisted inside you sharply, as fresh as if it were only yesterday.

You returned the letters to their stack, the bow tied as neatly as it was before, and laid them at the bottom of the box. As the papers found their place, your focus shifted, something else catching your attention--the journal he'd given you.

The sudden patter of footsteps coming down the stairs snapped you back to the present. Hastily, you wiped away the lingering tears and secured the lid on the box. As you turned, your face transformed with a practiced smile just as your seven-year-old daughter came skipping into view, her voice bubbling with excitement, "Mommy, mommy!"

Gathering her up in your arms, you showered her cheeks with affectionate kisses, her infectious giggles filling the empty house. 

"When is daddy going to be home?"

With a gentle smile, you replied, "Soon, sweetheart," while your fingers danced along her side, eliciting more giggles. "Do you want to help Mommy unpack?"

She quickly scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm, no, not really."

You laughed, and your heart swelled with love so intense it almost hurt. The front door swung open, and your daughter's voice pierced the air once more with a, "Daddy!"

Her little feet dashed off as she rushed to greet him, leaving you to resume unpacking. You barely had time to refocus when you felt a gentle touch in your hair.  Aaron was there, kneeling to your level with a tender smile. 

"Hi, honey," he said, his hand pausing as he noted the redness around your eyes. "What's wrong angel?"

You reach for the letters, holding them out to Aaron with a half-smile. "Just revisiting the time you were this close to losing the best thing in your life," you tease, a laugh bubbling up. But as the laughter fades, it morphs into a sob.

Aaron's laughter mingled with yours as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Yeah, that was a close one," he admitted, his voice a soft rumble. "Glad I came to my senses." 

[rinhaler]

MY BOYFRIEND'S BACK, AND HE'S COOLER THAN EVER!

CHAPTER SUMMARY : Bags are packed, parents are disappointed, and Chigiri has arrived to ride up to the Itoshi family cabin together !

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol mention.

WORDS : 4k

notes : me vs wanting to fuck almost everyone in the cabin 😩

LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Ready to go?” Chigiri asks, coming inside to assess the situation. He looks at your enormous suitcase and several travel bags before looking back at you with a quirked brow. You look away from him quickly, pretending something on your phone has caught your attention. “You know we’re only going for a week, right?”

“I want to be prepared!”

“It’s crazy,” he laughs, “because I know that somehow you’re gonna come home with more things than you left with.”

“Not true! Your birthday presents are in here!” you smile, shaking the large gift bag in your hand. He tries to take it from you to peak at what’s inside, but you move it out of his reach.

He pouts.

You pout harder.

“Fine, I’ll carry the heavy suitcase. Even though it’s my birthday week.”

“Thank you Chigs~!”

“Don’t call me that~!” he repeats in your sing-song voice.

You laugh, picking up another bag and carrying it to the car. You load them into the back before rushing into your house again and getting the last few bags. He takes them for you, allowing you to lock the door. If you’d had more warning, you definitely would have gotten a house sitter. But you’re trying not to worry about that, you just want to get on the road and leave all of your worries behind.

Worries, including your family. The family who are less than impressed that you’re abandoning them to spend a boozy week with friends instead of them. You don’t care, though. You delivered their gifts and wished them well.

It’s stupid, really, that they’re so frustrated that you won’t be spending time with them. You can’t stomach spending time with your dad and his new girlfriend. He knows you can’t control your face and you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

You inherited that from him.

Your mother however, was devastated when you told her. You figured she’d be okay since she has a larger family to spend the holidays with. But you’re her only child, you suppose you are being a little selfish.

It’s something you have to do though, you feel. You’re not over Rin and you don’t want to spend Christmas with family grieving what should have been you and him spending the day together. This way, you get to actually have fun. It’s not forced or superficial to keep up appearances for your relatives.

No one is going to expect anything of you at the cabin.

“I’m proud of you,” Chigiri smiles, looking at you briefly before focusing back on the road. You scoff, turning the radio up in the car, Mariah Carey blasting through the speakers. You both groan before he hands you the aux cord. “Not in a cringe way. I just mean, I know you’re a people pleaser. So I’m impressed that you put yourself over your parents.”

“Ugh, they were both so disappointed in me. I spent thousands on presents for them both. I even got some toys for my stepdad’s ratty step-kids. What more can I do?”

“God they are ratty.”

“They’re giving Damien from The Omen.” you tell him, both of you laughing loudly as one of your playlists plays softly through the speaker. You turn it up a little, both of you whooping as you hear Boss Bitch by Doja Cat play. “I know I was shitting myself when Sae texted, but I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

“Me too, I was dreading spending my birthday with your miserable ass.” he chuckles and you slap his arm lightly. “Wait! I know you’re still down about Rin, so, this will be a fun distraction. Plus I bet you end up hooking up with one of Sae’s friends, you haven’t had your rebound yet.”

“I am not doing another footballer, I can’t.” you shake your head.

You both laugh lightly and carry on chatting about the events to come. It’s like a weeklong party, essentially. And ever since you’ve known Chigiri, you’ve both loved a party. But it’s never actually the party itself.

The days before a party are always the best. Whether you’re hosting or attending, it’s always exciting. A theme is always ideal but not essential. Either way, you’ll spend weeks talking about it. Who’s going? What will you wear? What are you gonna drink?

You go on numerous shopping trips and buy endless amounts of clothes until you find the perfect outfit. Only to wear it that night and never again. But it’s worth it, every time. Hearing people compliment how gorgeous you look never gets old.

No one’s words meant more to you than Rin’s, though. The way he’d rest his hand in the small of your back while showing you off made you feel like a princess. He’d whisper sweet nothings about how you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and the things he wanted to do to you when you got home. It made your legs weak and your face flush with heat. And yet, he was always so calm. So cool. He liked to rile you up and pay you no mind as you look up at him expectantly. Acting as if he hadn’t said something so salacious and lewd while chatting with guests.

It drove you wild.

But, truthfully, where your best friend is concerned, your favourite part of a party is the morning after. If he spent the night at your place, especially. You’d wait for him to message you to let you know he’s awake and leave Rin’s side while he was snoring softly. Hyoma can’t handle his drink, and you’re no better. You’d crawl into bed with him and burrow under the duvet after handing him some water and painkillers.

Hungover or not, though, you loved gossiping with him. You’d trade stories about what happened throughout the night and things you heard. It made your day; it made the hangover worth it.

And now, you’re driving towards a week’s worth of that.

You groan as the song changes from Doja Cat to Lust for Life by Lana Del Rey.

“Nope!” he objects, “What kind of psychopath has Doja and Lana on the same playlist?” Chigiri asks, skipping the song. You throw your head back against the headrest, sighing as you think about Rin, again.

The album featuring the eponymous song is one of the first gifts Rin gave you. In vinyl form, of course, along with a pink record player. You had a record player already, but you told him a few times that you’d always wanted a pink one. It was a birthday gift, you remember crying so much as you unwrapped it.

“And I thought we could listen to this together.” you reminisce on him telling you as he handed the album to you. You told him you’d never listened to it before when you were going through her discography. It was a throwaway comment you didn’t think he’d even remember.

You cried listening to the self-titled song, wrapped up in his arms as he held you close. Truthfully, you’ve never felt so loved. And unfortunately, you don’t think you will again. You told him, repeatedly, how in love with him you were.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you after that.

“I need to make a new playlist.” you sigh, Chigiri nods, agreeing. “You’re right, Doja and Lana on the same playlist is psycho behaviour.”

“And you’re only just realising this?” he laughs again.

“I bet he’s got a new girlfriend now. Girls always threw themselves at him, even when we were together.” you tell him. “Oh my God, I miss him. I miss him so much I feel sick. I can’t do this.”

“Shut up.” he tells you, sternly, “I haven’t seen anything on his socials about a girlfriend, but that’s none of your business anymore anyway.”

“You’re still on his socials?”

“… anyway…”

“You know how private he is, Hyoma. If he’s seeing someone he wouldn’t post about her.”

“He posted you.” he reminds you, and you shrug defeatedly. “Besides, you broke up with him. You ended things and you’re still heartbroken. Imagine how depressed he probably is. He’s a workaholic, too. He’s probably distracting himself with work, not girls.”

Hyoma always knows what to say. Deep down, you knew that. But you never would have thought about it until he said. It was a miracle that he even asked you out, after all. His friends never failed to tell you how surprised they were. He’s too focused on football to bother with girls.

But you… you were different.

“You’re self-sabotaging, idiot.” Chigiri tells you. “We’ll get there, we’ll have fun, and you won’t think about Rin at all. I’m banning Rin talk for the rest of the week.”

“Fine fine fine.” you relent, shaking your body in an attempt to dispel any further thoughts of your ex. Though, to be honest, Sae might make it hard to not think about or discuss him. He’s his brother, after all. You can’t expect him to not talk about his little brother. And you certainly can’t ask him not to. “You’re gonna love the cabin. It’s huge. And there’s a lake we can ice skate on.”

“Perfect, can’t wait.”

There are several cars parked outside as you pull up. Chigiri parks, but is frozen in place as he looks at the cabin. It’s clear that the place is not what he expected. You end up leaving him alone to process his thoughts as he drinks it in. It’s the closest he’ll get to feeling like a celebrity, he suspects.

He follows you out, rushing to help you lift your suitcase as you struggle under the weight of it. You smile, gratefully, as he drags it towards the cabin. You decide to pick up his much smaller suitcase as well as all of your other bags. It isn’t hard to keep up with him as he struggles to pull your luggage through the snow.

“This isn’t a cabin. I was expecting a log shack with a few amenities. This is a mansion.” Chigiri tells you as you walk by his side. You giggle, agreeing, you felt exactly the same way the first time you came here with Rin.

You walk up the stairs ahead of him and knock on the door, starting to shiver as the biting winter air begins to attack you.

Chigiri manages to get your suitcase to the top of the stairs before anyone even knows you’ve knocked. He’s cold, tired, and impatient, and decides to ring the doorbell. You can both hear music playing inside.

It gets louder once the door swings open, and you see a familiar face.

“Oh hey, are you the little sister?” Oliver asks, forgetting that you’ve met before. You assume that’s how Sae has been referring to you as when talking to his friends, so, you nod. He smiles at Chigiri and takes your heavy suitcase from him, lifting it with ease as he welcomes you in. “They’re all in the lounge, grab yourselves a drink from the kitchen.” he tells you, winking as he sets down your case with all of the others at the bottom of the stairs.

There’s a lot of luggage, though the amount seems to double when you and Chigiri put the rest of yours down. You aren’t sure how many people must be here, but the nerves are setting in.

“She’s cute!” you hear Oliver tell the group as he goes into the lounge, it’s quiet, but you hear it clearly.

“You’ve met her before, idiot.” you hear Sae tell him, his voice getting closer to you as he comes to greet you. “Hey you.” he smiles, hugging you and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. You hug him back, feeling surprisingly calmer as you allow yourself to melt into his embrace.

You aren’t sure why, but you were worried he’d be weird with you when he saw you in person. This is only the second time you’ve seen him since you and Rin split, after all. The first was a coffee date to explain your side of things face to face. You’re happy you decided to keep in contact with Sae, he’s been so sweet and supportive through it all.

So, really, you aren’t sure why you expected him to be off with you.

Especially since he invited you here.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Sae smiles at Chigiri, holding his hand out to shake, which he does. “Your birthday is on the 23rd, yeah? We’ll plan something fun.”

“Being here is fun enough, don’t worry.” Hyoma responds, looking around. “This isn’t a cabin, by the way.” he laughs.

Sae laughs too, walking back towards the lounge. “Come meet everyone.” he insists. You and Chigiri look at each other, but follow.

You’re the only girl here, by the looks of things. You aren’t sure if that’ll change or not though. Maybe they all have partners who are arriving together later. You’re a little surprised by the headcount, you were expecting more. Including Sae, there’s only four of them sitting around the fire, drinking together.

“Apparently we’ve met before?” Oliver’s brows knot in contemplation, and you nod. “Sorry, sweetheart. Normally I don’t forget a pretty face.”

“Yeah ya do, bullshitter.” Tabito snickers, looking up at you from his seat on the floor. You’ve never met Karasu, but you’ve heard a lot about him. Mostly from Rin about when they used to play together. And you may or may not have stalked his socials before, so you’re familiar with his face. “Nice to meet’cha, heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise.” you smile.

“Do you smoke?” you hear another voice speak as you get further into the room. Your eyes lie on Eita Otoya as he pulls a blunt from behind his ear, and you shake your head. You’re surprised to see them letting loose like this, though you suppose they mustn’t get the chance to often.

Rin found it hard to relax and unwind. He’s always been so career focused, never wanting to do anything to harm his reputation. And you understand that, you do. You’re the same, really. You have an image to maintain, people seem to think being a model is just turning up and looking pretty. But you take it seriously, like Rin.

Though he doesn’t seem to know how to turn it off.

“No Ryusei?” you ask, a little surprised he couldn’t make it.

“Not yet, he should be here soon.” Sae assures you. You laugh, knowing you’re in for a really fun week once Shidou gets here. Sae turns back to look at you, taking you back to the entrance. “I’ll show you to your rooms. Did you want to share? There’s enough for everyone to have their own.”

“She snores, I’ll take my own.” Hyoma tells Sae, earning a smirk from him. You try to argue, but your best friend seems to be too convincing. The rest of the guys join you, offering to help with your bags and carry them up to your room.

And, really, who are you to say no?

Chigiri rolls his eyes, carrying his own case and entering the room Sae had planned for him. You realise Sae is sleeping in the master bedroom downstairs when you see all of the other rooms have been claimed by sneakers and jackets from the other guests, all of them are just too lazy to bring their luggage up.

Though none of them had a problem helping with yours.

Your heart sinks when you realise Sae saved your usual room for you to take. The room you always shared with your ex whenever he brought you here. The guys don’t give you much time to feel sorrowful, though. Not when they’re laughing and joking beside you. Sae notices your forlorn expression, pulling you aside slightly.

“I thought you’d feel comfortable in here, but we can switch if you want.” he tells you, but you shake your head. “Ryusei will be in the opposite room so I’m sure you won’t be thinking about anything other than how annoying he is.” he smiles.

“Thank you, Sae.” you smile, albeit a little weakly. It’s bittersweet, that’s all. “At least I have the best view.” you tell him, opening the doors to the large balcony that looks over the lake. You think about how the nearby town’s lights twinkle at night.

“Right.” he puts a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. “Everyone out, let’s leave her to unpack.” Sae announces, ushering the other three men out of the room.

You smile, waving at them all as they leave. Once they’re out, Sae closes the door behind himself and leaves you alone with your thoughts. As much as you want to sit and dwell on things, you decide to occupy your mind and unpack instead.

You’re startled, a little, when Chigiri comes in to see you. Though you’re relieved when he starts to help.

“You did not need to bring all of this.” he grabs a gold glittery mini stress and holds it up. “I— I’ve never seen this in my life. Oh my God, did you buy new clothes for this? You are trying to get a rebound.”

“No I’m—”

“Yeah, you are.” he stops you immediately. “I’ve been stalking all of their socials in my room, they’re all single. And they all had their tongues hanging out for you when you came in.”

“You work too fast.” you laugh. He shrugs, grabbing a few items of clothing and hanging them up in the wardrobe for you.

You’re thankful for his help, it goes a lot quicker than it would have otherwise. Plus you get to gossip about the week ahead. You try and dodge his questions, but your facial expressions always give you away. You have quite a good poker face, but it doesn’t matter when it comes to Chigiri. He has a way of making you shy and giggly when you’re trying to keep a secret.

“Which one?” he asks, and you tut. “I feel like they’re all your type.” he tells you, handing you your toothbrush to take to the ensuite.

“They are.” you laugh from the other room. You return, zipping up your case and pushing it away. “I’ve always had the hots for Ryusei low key though, but I think Rin would be livid.”

“Rin isn’t here and he’s not our problem.” Chigiri smiles. You both sit on top of your bed and flop backwards with a sigh. He turns his head to the side to look at you while you’re too busy disassociating, staring at the ceiling. “Don’t just do it because you feel like you have to, by the way.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “Oh, rebound.”

He nods, “We’re here to have fun. So, if you’re going to fuck one of them, do it because it’s fun.”

“I won’t.” you agree. “I’m worried about feeling guilty too… they’re Rin’s friends, after all. I don’t want to upset him.”

As Chigiri is about to respond, he’s stopped by the sound of the doorbell ringing. You smile, widely, when you realise Ryusei is here. Hyoma knows all about Ryusei. His feral replacement whenever Rin used to take you around the world for his away games.

Hyoma isn’t jealous, of course. Especially when he knew you had a little crush on Ryusei. You and Hyoma have only ever been friends, and you’ll never be closer to anyone than you are with each other.

“Should we wait a few minutes so I don’t look desperate?” you ask, sitting upright and resting your bodyweight on one hand as you look down at him.

“Yeah.” he nods.

You nod too. You start lying back down, slowly, looking around at the room as you do. “I can’t.” you tell him, jumping off the bed and heading towards the door. He sighs, but hurries after you.

All of the guests are gathered in the entryway as they greet Ryusei. They exchange hugs and handshakes as they all chat and catch up. You descend the stairs slowly, but not fully, standing at the halfway point with Chigiri as you watch the scene unfold.

His bright smile turns to a look of wonder when he notices you. Eyes softening as he realises you’re here, you’re really here.

“No way…” he smirks, “Hey, kid, how are ya?”

“I’m good,” you nod, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “And you? How are you, Ryu?”

“Better for seeing you,” he laughs. “Didn’t know you were comin’.”

“Shut the door, man, it’s freezing.” Sae tells him, approaching to do it for him. But Ryusei stops him, keeping him at arm’s length so he can’t.

“I actually picked someone up on the way.” Ryusei announces, side stepping a little as he waits for the mystery guest to hurry. Chigiri’s eyes widen in horror, the realisation hitting him before anyone else as he looks at you. You’re too busy feeling deflated that Ryusei has brought a girl along with him.

“Oh no.” Chigiri speaks, and you look at him. “We should go back upstairs.”

“What? Why?” you ask him, confused. Though your attention is forced back downstairs when you see another figure enter the cabin out of your peripheral view.

Your heart sinks.

“Rin?” Sae asks as he watches his younger, yet for some reason taller, brother set down his suitcase.

Your heart keeps plummeting deeper through your body as you watch him, too. God, he looks even better than he did the day you ended things. He’s always been striking, beautiful. Just so God damn handsome. But he looks older, more mature.

You feel your breathing get heavier and more intense the longer you watch him. The way he dusts the snow from his expensive looking coat. And that familiar ruffle of his hair as he fixes it into place.

“You said you weren’t coming.” Sae tells him.

“I changed my mind,” Rin responds, gesturing to Ryusei. “He begged, really.”

Sae holds his eyes shut, sighing. Rin isn’t sure what the issue is. He was invited, after all, he just declined. He expected his brother to be happy to see him, he thought it would be a fun surprise. Though maybe he only invited him out of obligation.

Shidou hadn’t made it seem that way, though.

“Look who’s here.” Ryusei smiles, pointing up at you.

Rin’s weak smile drops to a stoic straight line as he follows his friends directional finger and his sights land on you. You’re frozen. You can’t smile. You can’t say hello. You can’t even wave. You’re just staring at each other, both absolutely paralysed with no idea how to act.

“H— Hi…” you struggle to speak. Hyoma is thankful you’re too distracted looking at Rin to see the way he’s cringing horrendously behind your back, but not showing his face to the lower floor.

“Hey.” Rin responds, even smiling a little when he hears your voice. It’s been so long, after all. “I didn’t know you were coming.” he explains.

“Same…” you tell him, hoping he believes you. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were coming. Wait—” you interrupt yourself when you realise how horrible that sounded.

“Stop talking.” Hyoma whispers, and you clear your throat.

Everyone else seems to see the funny side, all except Rin. He appears a little downtrodden, though he disguises it well. You know him, though. You’re sure he knows you didn’t mean it how it sounded, but you can’t help feeling a little guilty.

“You made it very clear you weren’t coming, Rin.” Sae tells him. “If you said you were coming I—”

“It’s fine. I didn’t know you were still talking, though.” Rin says, the annoyance in his voice very evident. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to hurt you or if it’s just Rin being Rin. “But we’re adults. I’m sure we can co-exist for a week, right?” he asks, looking at you with his intense, teal gaze.

“R—Right…”

© 2023 rinhaler

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 14 Prompt: Airport and/or Bar

Tags: Established Relationship, Airport Pick Ups, Supportive Wayne Munson, Idiots In Love

wc: 1796 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Long distance isn’t the relationship Steve and Eddie had dreamed they had when they finally confessed their love together in the Spring of ’88, but they’ve been making it work for years now.

As far as Steve’s concerned they are experts at it now.

They talk every night. Steve from his bedroom in the apartment he shares with Robin in San Francisco, Eddie from his own bedroom in the house he lives in with Wayne two towns over from Hawkins.

Steve tells Eddie about his long days at the office, the responsibilities he’s been shouldered with now that he’s earned his father’s trust to run the West Coast branch of the organization by himself. A feat Steve didn’t even know he wanted until he finally sat down with his father years ago to learn what the man did.

Eddie listens tentatively and returns the favor with his own stories of the day. Life at the plant alongside Wayne isn’t his dream, but it's a steady job that pays the bills. Besides, he likes being near Wayne. Can’t imagine a world where he’s not a hop, skip, and a jump away from the old man who quite literally saved his life more than once.

It’s not like they wanted to create professional lives thousands of miles apart from each other, but it's the cards they’ve been dealt. Sure, they’d love to be under the same roof for more than a week at a time, but they make it work. The real truth is that they’re both too afraid to make the other sacrifice all they’ve built for the other. Resentment is a relationship killer and neither is ready to jeopardize the cozy relationship they’ve built.

So, they make do.

Steve visits often, a perk of being the boss of his branch. Occasionally, he writes them off as business trips and checks in on the Midwest branch while he’s in town. Other times he uses his sick days and vacation days to make the trip out to Indiana.

Every time he flies into the Indianapolis International Airport, Eddie is waiting for him at the end of the jet bridge. The first time, he was decked out in a suit a size too small. A chauffeur cap askew on his head and a handwritten sign with “S. Harrington” scrawled across it that he had leaned on a luggage cart like all the other private chauffeurs waiting for their clients. Steve couldn’t help but burst into laughter the moment he saw him, running to Eddie and giving him a hug that the rest of the passengers side-eyeing them — not because they were two men, but because it was one hell of a greeting for a paid chauffeur.

From that moment on, Eddie committed to the airport greeting bit. The next time Steve flew to Eddie, he was greeted with a giant sign that read “Congrats! You survived prison!” A few times after that, Eddie was standing there with a bouquet of blue balloons and a banner that said “It’s a Boy!” There was the time he pretended Steve was his cheating boyfriend and had a total meltdown at the gate only to leave with Steve hand-in-hand three minutes later. And he can’t forget about the time he roped Dustin and the rest of the kids into making the trip, the lot of them waiting for Steve at the gate with various signs claiming to be his long-lost children.

Aside from getting to spend time with Eddie, his airport arrivals were always the highlight of the trip. He knows Eddie gets a kick out of the theatrics, but there’s a part of him deep down that wishes he could be on the receiving end of the airport shenanigans at least once. Unfortunately, Steve has yet to repay the favor since he’s usually the one making the trip out to Indy.

All that’s about to change though, because after years of asking, he’s finally convinced Eddie and Wayne to take their holiday vacation and come spend Christmas with him and Robin in sunny California.

Which means one thing: It’s Steve's turn to create an epic airport arrival sign.

“How am I supposed to top any of these?” Steve asks, sifting through the hoard of airport signs he’s kept over the years. A beautiful tapestry of their chaotic relationship.

“I don’t think Eddie can be topped,” Robin says, searching through her own stack of neon poster boards.

“I mean…”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

Steve throws his hands up in defense, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his laughter at bay. The last thing he needs is to upset Robin before they come up with a sign idea.

Sighing, Steve lets his head thunk against the mountain of signs. It’s no surprise Eddie is the more creative one of their relationship, but he feels bad he can’t come up with anything even remotely as good as the signs Eddie’s been creating for years.

“Look, Steve,” Robin says, patting his back. “You’re never going to outdo Eddie. He’s theatrical at his core. He lives for being a menace. Stop trying to channel him and channel yourself instead.”

“Is this your way of telling me you find me boring?” he asks, gazing up at her.

“No, dingus! I’m just saying, channel that Romeo side I know is in there,” she says, thrusting her finger into Steve’s chest. “Be sappy. Eddie’ll appreciate it.”

In the end, Steve takes Robin’s advice. He cuts a fluorescent green poster board into a wonky heart — one side longer than the other. Tries three separate times to get “Welcome Home” centered in the middle before he gives up and freehand it. And then, for extra flair, he uses a bottle and a half go glitter glue on the whole thing. They’re going to be finding specks of glitter for weeks, but he thinks it’ll be worth it.

According to the signs, Eddie and Wayne’s flight has already landed and is en route to the gate. Steve stands nervously by the sky gate exit. The sign is still folded in half, wrinkled at the edges from how much he’s fidgeting with it. He had no idea how nerve-wracking it is being on this side of things. It’s silly really. He knows Eddie is going to be happy to see him, sign or no sign, but he can’t help but be a little on edge.

Thankfully, the doors open and a flood of travelers start disembarking from the plane. Steve stands on his top-toes, scanning the tired faces in search of Eddie and Wayne. As the crowd thins out, Steve starts to worry. Maybe they changed their minds? Maybe they missed the flight. Maybe he’s at the wrong gate?

Shit, what if he’s at the wrong gate?

A glance up at the digital sign above the exit, confirms that Steve is in the right place. He breathes a sigh of relief before he goes back to scanning. They have to be coming out soon, he thinks, and starts to unfold the sign. He holds it low, clutched over his chest until he spots a familiar head of unruly curls.

Hoisting it over his head, he shouts, “Eds!”

Eddie’s head whips around at the sound of his voice, eyes shining when he spots him in the thinning crowd. Steve has all of five seconds to brace himself before Eddie launches himself into his arms, crushing the sign between their bodies.

It’s not uncommon for the two of them to hug when they reunite at the airport, but this feels different. Eddie’s arms are tighter around his neck and he’s pretty sure he can hear him sniffling, body slightly shaking in his grasp.

“Eds?” Steve whispers into the mess of curls. “You okay?”

Eddie nods, slowly peeling himself away from Steve. With a little bit of space between them, Steve watches as Eddie’s eyes glance between the smushed sign and Steve’s eyes. Back and forth, back and forth.

Shit, is it too much?

“Really?” Eddie sniffles, using the sleeve of his sweater to wipe away a tear. “You want this to be our home? Together?”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Steve certainly hadn’t planned for that. Sure, he’s secretly been hoping that the trip out here would get Eddie and to a lesser extent Wayne to realize how great the city is and finally bite the bullet and move out here. Start the mechanic shop they’ve been planing for years. But Steve knew better than to set expectations too high. He’d never ask Eddie to move for him, just like Eddie would never ask Steve to move back for him.

But now, seeing Eddie smiling, eyes glassy with tears. Well, shit, maybe he should have asked him.

“Wait, you want to move in with me?”

“Sweetheart. I’ve wanted to live with you since the moment we said I love you on the Henderson’s porch.”

It’s not news to Steve, per se. They’ve talked at length about what living together would be like; especially in those early days when their relationship was in that blissful honeymoon phase. Still, the words come as a shock to Steve who stumbles out of Eddie’s grasp for a moment.

Running a shaking hand through his hair, he locks eyes with Eddie. “Why the hell have we been doing long distance for a decade?” he laughs, yanking Eddie back into his arms.

“I thought you weren’t ready! I didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Baby,” Steve breathes. He can’t believe this. Have they seriously been suffering in silence for years for nothing? Christ, they’re idiots. “Of course, I want to live with you! I just didn’t want to make you move.”

“Jesus Christ,” Wayne grumbles, shaking his head. He stumbles his way towards them, throwing a hand on both of their shoulders. “You two are idiots, you know that? Told ya both you needed to communicate what ya wanted!” He rolls his eyes, shoving them both. “Could’ve been livin’ in the sunshine instead of snowy Indiana for years now.”

“Hey, who said anything about you moving with us?” Eddie asks, tearing his eyes away from Steve to stare at his Uncle.

“Hate to break it to you, boy. But wherever you go, I go. S’the Munson rule.”

Steve can’t help but laugh as he pulls both of them in for a hug before ushering them through the bustling airport. They fetch their bags and make it safely into his car before they’re on the way. As he pulls away from the San Francisco Airport, Eddie immediately reaches for the car radio.

Before he has a chance to change the channel, the crooning voice of Perry Como starts singing “(There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays.”

[yourstartreatment]

of those wild nights

warnings: smut, sex on the phone, mutual masturbation, praises, pet names, alex being dom-ish, established relationship

note: this is a rewritten version of ‘phone sex’

smut under the cut // mdni.

—

you already knew you would’ve missed your boyfriend deeply, aftercoming back from work you would sit on the couch and watch the thousand pictures you've saved on your phone.

after dinner, you went to bed, not feeling like doing anything else, except sleep.

you laid down your shared bed and put your phone in charge, ready to turn off the light on your nightstand.

you phone buzzed though so picked it up, thinking of what could call you at this time. it was midnight, you finished work very late and so you ate later than usual.

seeing your boyfriend’s name on the screen, made you smile and certainly feel better. you were surprised to see a video call, knowing that he wasn’t that good with technology.

you accepted the call and finally you saw his tired but beautiful face.

“hello, honey” he murmured softly, you could notice he was already in his hotel room.

“hi handsome” you chuckled softly, looking at him through the screen, rubbing his eye like a tired kid.

“how was the gig?” you would ask, while finding a comfortable position on the bed.

“it was good — jamie messed up a few times, but it’s been great.” he smiled to you gently, you could feel a sense of warmth and comfort in your body, you always feel like that when you’re with him.

“i miss you.” you admitted softly, analyzing his face, he had few wrinkles, a light touch of beard was popping up, and you didn’t mind at all because he was very sexy.

“i miss you too, love. but it’s just few weeks and i’ll be with you for christmas holidays” he said his deep voice calmed you.

the two of you used to lay down the bed, maybe you sitting on his lap or just between his arms and him reading you a book.

“alright.” you nodded, still looking at him, occasionally screenshotting his face, so that you could have few other photos to add to an album on your phone.

after a moment of silence, he talked, his voice a little deeper, his breath shorter.

“love, would you do something for me please?” he asked, shifting on the bed.

you nodded, curiously.

“what is it, al?” you murmured, with your gentle smile and soft voice.

“i want you to touch yourself for me, yeah? would you do it, pretty girl?” he smiled, a light blush spreader on his cheeks.

you were all flushed, as you nodded for him.

“yes? good girl. always eager to please me.” he chuckled softly, knowing that you would actually do anything for him.

you two always talked about what to do in terms of your sexual life before actually doing it.

in fact, before the tour, the two of you discussed a lot about this in particular and you agreed to have phone sex while he was away.

you position your phone in front of you, stripping out the white babydoll he gifted you for your birthday, smiling shyly.

he groaned as he looked at you to the screen, your nipples pecking out erected, his desire was to touch them, suck them properly and make you cum only by stimulating you.

“fuck, aren’t you so pretty doll?” he let out a soft sigh, taking his length in his hand, wishing it was you touching them with your soft and delicate hands.

in his mind was printed the last time he has seen you, he fucked you so hard that you couldn’t even walk.

but now there you were, with a shy smile on your face, laying down the bed.

“why don’t you start with touching that pretty and puffy clit of yours, uh?” he talked.

he was so good at dirty talking and sometimes you think of how he couldn’t get all flustered by it.

you let out a shaky breath, nodding as your manicured hand traveled down your body, occasionally touching your breast, finally reaching your needy clit.

you started circling your fingers on it, pressing slightly, and finally letting out a soft moan.

“such a good girl.” he praised, “c’mon let me see your pretty cunt.” he asked, so you moved a pillow in front of you and rested on it the phone, spreading more your legs so that he could see.

you ran your finger between your folds feeling actually how wet you were just by hearing his voice.

“so wet, i bet i could push my cock in without any preparation.” he groaned quietly, his hand quicker on his dick.

“alex” you tasted his name on your lips, it let out a little cry, you needed him so deeply.

your fingers shoving in and out your cunt.

“i know, doll, i know” he soothed you, “once i’ll come back, i’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t even remember your name, yeah darling?” he mumbled softly.

his voice was quiet and his breath more intense and deeply, he was near his climax.

your two fingers went quickly in and out, but it wasn’t the same as he was with him.

you continued to moan quietly, biting your lip, holding them back.

“i need you al” you would have sighed, as you felt your climax approaching.

“i— fuck. i need you so much.” you moaned, finally reaching your highest.

as he heard your words, he would have groaned, his fist gooey by his sticky cum.

“such a good girl.” he praised you, looking at the beautiful sight of you, your chest slightly covered in sweat, your nipples still erect because of the excitement and the cold air.

“i love you al” you murmured softly, taking the phone with the clean hand, looking at him with a soft and tired smile.

“love you too, pretty girl” he sighed softly, smiling gently at you.

“now go and clean yourself, and then get a nice sleep, alright?” he demanded with his firm but still gentle voice.

“yes sir” you teased, chuckling, and reaching for the babydoll to wear again.

“love you a lot.” you blew him a kiss. he caught it and smashed it on his lips.

you two said goodnight to each other, and then hung out the call.

few minutes later, you would have been asleep on his side of the bed, hugging his pillow while smelling his scent.