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hungharrington · 1 year

Note

Could I request something from the prompt you reblogged:

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

kitchen counters (kisses, and more)

this was hard to think of a sitch! it's a bit weird (?) but also a bit goofy at times, which i love and i hope u love anon! not any warnings needed, it's hot consensual sex except they don't use a condom but we know this is fiction and we should totally use those things irl. ok be safe and enjoy <3 2.8k words. minors do not interact.

It’s a bit of a strange morning, being here in Steve’s kitchen when you haven’t spent the night.

Not for lack of want, mind you. You hadn’t been able to is all, some family event that rolled way too late into the evening. And even though you know Steve would’ve come and picked you up if you asked, even at some point past midnight, you didn’t want to ask that of him. You knew he’d had a long day. Steve tried to insist he’d sleep better with you beside him.

“I don’t want you driving, s’all,” you said into the receiver last night, your tone apologetic. “It’s just, it’s late and you’re tired. I’ll come over in the morning, okay?”

“You promise?” Steve grumbled back. He never was in the chirpiest of moods when he went home to empty sheets.

“Pinky.”

And you followed through, driving over as soon as you could after your wake-up. Your own spare key lets you into the house and it’s only mildly surprising to find it quiet. The kitchen is empty, lights off.

You think of your boyfriend, who must be still asleep upstairs, and take a couple steps up the stairs, and— ah, there it is. The sound of the shower. If you strain your ears, you can hear his faint rendition of a George Michael song. It makes you grin.

You head for the kitchen anyways, flipping on the lights as you go— it’s a bit later than Steve’s usually up but you’re willing to bet that without you there to bug him awake, he’s dozed past his usual alarm.

There are Eggos in the fridge, enough for both of you, and fill the toaster with them, pressing the lever down. You begin brewing the coffee, the scent of it percolating the air and it’s nearly ready by the time you hear Steve coming down the stairs.

He appears in the doorway, shower towel still hung around his shoulders, his chest bare. You automatically dip your gaze to drink up the sight of his chest, a mixture of love and lust competing in your chest. His hair is shaggy and wet. He’s scrubbing the back of it with the towel but he pauses, delighting at the sight of you.

“I thought I heard you,” He smiles easily, and you meet him in the middle when he comes over for a kiss. His hands circle your waist. You press up on your toes and hold his face gently, pressing your sweetest good morning onto his lips. Steve hums. His eyes are still closed when you pull back.

They flutter open and he smiles again, blindingly handsome. “Missed you last night,” he says, pulling you closer by your waist. “And this morning too.”

Your heart sings just a bit, your thumb stroking lovingly across his cheekbone. “I bet you did, handsome.”

Steve raises his brows like he thinks you don’t believe him and his hands slither down, nearing the curve of your ass as suggestiveness creeps in his tone. “Uh huh. Even had a dream about you last night.”

His head ducks into the curve of your neck, lips ghosting along your throat as he continues, voice still husky from his sleep. “Woke up hard.”

His body pressing into you confirms that his high-running hormones haven’t managed to dim in the time between his dream and now — his cock is half-hard, nudging against your thigh. You can’t help the way you shiver when he kisses your neck, wet and warm, and murmurs, “Wanna hear about it?”

He’s a bastard. That’s the first thought in your mind as his kiss turns harsher, suckling at the skin of your neck in a way that weakens your knees — he’s a bastard who knows exactly what he’s doing. Your hands slip from his jaw to his shoulders, clutching them a little tighter. You try to pull yourself together.

“Something tells me you’re gonna tell me anyways.” You remark, a pant already making your words sound a little gaspier.

Damn, he makes you needy. Your head falls back and you let him nibble along your neck, feeling your arousal sparking — and catching fire quick, burning low in your stomach.

“Mm, I could,” Steve replies, between his lovebites. His cock has gotten harder, his hips lightly grinding against you to work it the right way. You keen into his touches. “Or… I could show you?”

Your hands move to tug his face up, out of your neck, and you kiss him, hard. Steve groans appreciatively into the kiss, beginning to walk the two of you backward til his back hits the counter. He uses the leverage to pull you closer, his knee nudging between your thighs — your cunt pulses hotly as you grind down against his thigh, lust licking hot at your spine.

“Mhm, definitely…” Steve starts, words tumbling out between his kisses. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, tongue soothing along after. “Definitely started like this.”

“Oh yeah?” You huff, giving a pleasurable shudder when the seam of your jeans lines up just right, rubbing rough right on your clit. A breathy moan escapes you and pushes into Steve’s lips, sealed in your kiss.

Not breaking his kiss, Steve’s hands grip your hips, his knee nudging higher as he pulls down to grind on him again — another bolt of pleasure pulls a moan from you as you clench around nothing. For a hot minute, you two play this game; Steve dedicating himself to your bottom lip, kisses hot and hands wandering, while you rub against his thigh needily. You reach a breaking point eventually.

“Steve,” you pull back from your sloppy kiss to whine, unsure exactly what you’re asking from him.

Face more flushed than before, Steve eyes you hungrily, lips swollen from your steamy kisses. He pulls your hips forward once again, groaning at the reaction it gets him— another pitiful whine, your hands on his neck flexing.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ angel,” He muses, more to himself. He bites his lower lip and takes a second to compose himself before his fingers take a walk, eyes tracing the path they take along the edge of your jeans. Steve pauses at the button, eyes flicking up to your face, eyebrows raising an inch.

“Take ‘em off?” He asks.

“In the kitchen?” You counter, sounding a bit appalled. Not that you and Steve have ever been restricted to the bedroom, but, well….

The Eggos in the toaster pop right at that moment as if to prove your point. You and Steve's heads both whip to the side to look at it and there's a moment of silence. Steve giggles first and you join in quickly, leaning into him. The noise tapers off and when you look back to Steve, you think about the night you would've had if you hadn't been held back.

You don't owe it to him, but you certainly are eager to find out the contents of his dream.

Stepping back out of his hold, you pull your shirt off swiftly. Next, you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off. Your legs prickle in the sudden coolness. You enjoy the wide-eyed boyish joy on Steve's face maybe a bit too much. He clearly wasn't sure he'd convinced you.

“You did say you'd show me what happened in this dream." You say, hooking your thumbs into your panties, like you're about to work them down your legs next. You pause, tilt your head, the fire in your belly fueled by Steve's greedy gaze drinking you in, "Or do you want to be the one to take these off?"

Steve growls, stepping forward and capturing your lips with his. It's fast and messy, his lips taking and taking, hands raking fast across your body as he lets desire run free. One hand kneads at your breast, pinching lightly at the peaking nipple beneath your shirt, stirring up heat within you. The other hand delves down, down, pushes gently into your panties.

A gasp stutters out of you as he runs his middle finger along your slit, gathering the wetness welling from your entrance. The pad of his fingers drags your slick forward, searching for your clit and you're nearly embarrassed by the hiccupy whimpering noise you make when he finds it.

"There?" Steve says, though his finger has already started to circle it, treacherously slow motions. You nod, your hand slipping and grasping his bicep tightly, giving a sweet sigh of pleasure. "Oh, good girl."

The praise sinks into your skin and you can feel yourself getting wetter, another futile clench of your cunt around nothing.

"Y'think you can handle my cock?" Steve murmurs lowly, checking in with you. He meanly speeds up his soft rubs on your clit as he asks, nearly making it impossible to answer for a minute, but you manage another nod, swallowing your noises for a moment.

"Yes," You say, voice nearly a whisper. Your breathing comes out in soft little pants, chest heaving. "Yes, yes, please, Steve."

Steve hums, pulling his hand from your panties and reaching for his own pants, the buckle clinking as he undoes his belt clumsily. His jeans pool at his ankles, kicked off in the direction of your own, and for a moment, it makes you laugh — two pairs of crumpled jeans on your kitchen floor all because of Steve's horny sleeping brain.

"So," you say, glancing for a moment at his tenting boxers. It makes you salivate just a bit. "How do you want me? How did the dream go?"

You emphasize the word dream, bending over to rest your forearms on one of the counters, sticking your ass out behind you tantalizingly. Steve's eyes stare intensely, chest rising and falling as he steps closer — his hands fall onto your lower back, dragging down lightly, til his fingertips curl under the elastic of your panties.

"Mhmm," He drags them further, revealing the swell of your ass and hot cunt and releasing a resounding groan of appreciation. He sounds breathless when he says, "Just... fuck, just like this."

Your panties gather round your ankles and you step out of them. Behind you, you can hear the sound of his boxers dropping, one warm hand leaving your skin for just a second. It's back in an instant, both his hands shifting down again, spreading your cunt wide for him.

Steve lets out another raspy groan, one of his thumbs coming down to play in the well of slickness building at your hole — your head tips forward with a shaky pleasured sigh of relief.

"Oh, so wet for me already." He says, bordering a tease. You resist the urge to wriggle your hips, to push back and see if he'll relent and touch you more. "Already so messy, huh?"

His light tone of mock twines up your desire and tugs it harshly, your cunt clenching with a whine so loud you nearly don’t hear his chuckle. You're nearly dizzy with relief when the next touch is his cock, nudging against your hot entrance lightly. One hand holds your hip.

Steve goes easy, sinking into you tortuously slow til his thighs meet the back of yours, a sighing moan scraping out his throat as he does. You keen, a strained mewl pushing out your throat as you get filled— so full it aches deliciously, aches for more.

“Ste— fuck,” His name is stolen from your mouth in a gasp, your hands gripping the counter as he pulls his hips back slow, the drag so so fucking delectable. Shit.

Steve rolls his hips forward, pushing back in gently and he pauses again, giving you a moment — even as you tremble and huff out high little noises, clearly enjoying yourself. Warmth spreads across your back as he leans over, pressing himself against your back and his cock further in. There’s a soft kiss on your spine, then another.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily, breath fanning across your back. He gives another leisurely roll of his hips, a gentle fuck into your heat. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as your cunt clamps down on him. Another whiney noise passes your lips, heat curling up tight in your lower tummy. “Fuck, s’like you’re made for me. Like this pussy was just made for me.”

“Stevie,” you plead, managing to get the word out this time. There’s another ghost of his lips along your skin, then his arm shifts, wriggling under your tummy. He scoops it around your middle, hand pushing up between your breasts to rest on your sternum. Still folded atop you, Steve finally begins to move, hips pumping his cock in and out, faster and faster.

You squeal, body humming like a livewire as Steve finally fucks you, the soft squelch of your cunt sucking him in filling the kitchen. Steve’s chest burns hotly where it’s pressed to your back and you can hear every grunt that pairs with the snap of his hips, his hand on your hip and his arm under you pulling you back to meet every thrust.

Your eyes slip closed, little uh, uh, uh’s coming from your pretty mouth mixed with whimpers of Steve’s name. You’re stretched up on your toes, trying to get the angle that only Steve has ever found. Your core is burning with desire, a throbbing growing in your clit.

“You’re- shit, you’re better than a dream, sweetheart.” Steve grunts, hips never slowing his motions. The stretch of his cock has gone by now but the shape of his hard cock feels like he’s moulding your insides — and you love it.

“Nothing beats this pussy, mm. Nothing,” He drags out the word with a groan, breath coming out in hot pants against your back. “Beats fucking my girl.”

You’re nodding, beginning to feel too fucked out to even think of words. Steve’s hand shifts your hips up and you know he’s looking for that spot inside you— because you can feel his grin against your spine when you whine loudly when the head of his cock finds it.

“Oh, is that the spot?” Steve asks, voice dripping in condescension. You nod frantically. He starts to bully it with his cock, every fast thrust hitting it over and over, til nothing but the melted words of more and please leave your mouth in a drooling ramble. You’re whimpering and whining, cunt drooling all over his cock, down your thighs.

“That’s it, honey.” The words come out a bit choppy like Steve’s own orgasm was rearing its head and his hand moves off your hip — deftly finding your clit. You make a pathetic moan of his name as he circles it harshly, quick circles with the pads of his fingers.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Steve— uh, fuck,” You’re spewing anything that comes to your brain, your hips rocking back to meet Steve’s hard thrusts instinctively as you chase your high.

“Shit, honey,” Steve moans, voice climbing higher and breathier. His hips begin to jackhammer, stuttering as his orgasm tips over — a whiney string of curses sung into your skin as he fucks into your wet, hot cunt, hot cum dribbling from his cock inside you.

You’re desperate now, teetering close to your own edge but not quite there. “Stevie, please,” you cry. His fingers on your clit which had slowed regain their speed, his hips picking back up as he begins his murmurs to you.

“C’mon, honey, you’re so close, can feel this pussy sucking me in.“ He whispers hotly, his hand on your sternum moving to grope at your breast, fingers twisting at your nipple. “Want you to cum for me, okay? Please fucking cum for me.”

You don’t get a lot of choice with his cock drilling into you, pushing that sweet spot enough that your orgasm finally builds and melts — a strangled whiney moan of his name warbles out of you, instantly met with Steve’s praises, murmurs of how good you are for him. It feels like every nerve is alight, turning over and pulsing as the waves of pleasure ride out in your body.

You exhale, trying to catch your breath as you half melt into the counter, finally lowering off your tiptoes as you relax in the post-haze. Steve eases his cock out of you, the quietest wince, and you give yourself another minute before you drag yourself up, beginning to look for your abandoned panties. A thought strikes you.

“So,” you pant, leaning back against the counter; you’ll definitely need to sanitise that later. Steve’s rescued his boxers, tugging them up as he raises his brows to indicate he’s listening to your question. “How’d we do on the dream recreation?” You ask.

Steve grins cheekily. “Oh, in my dream we fucked on the couch.”

#jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut

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thepowerofswayze · 6 months

Text

Surprise Visit

also on ao3

pairing: clapton davis (2011) / reader [gender not specified]

word count: 555 (angel number now you have to read)

warnings & info: straddling, kissing, truly just fluff

summary: your boyfriend pops in one night to see you

note: v short and sweet :p one day, i will write an adequate length, smutty ass clapton fic. but today isn't that day.

☆

Clapton wished that he’d grabbed a hoodie on his way out.

He was standing outside of your house on a 50 degree night with only a tank top and a pair of basketball shorts to protect him from the cold. The chill wasn’t so bad on his arms, but his ears were starting to hurt and his eyes stung everytime the wind blew.

He reached up and knocked on the window in front of him, waiting for you to come see who was there. A shivering minute passed before he realized he hadn’t even checked to make sure you were home. Just as he reached for his phone, the window slid up.

“You’re kidding me.”

Your boyfriend had a habit of appearing at your window. It was partially your fault, as you had told him numerous times he could show up whenever, but he usually shot you a text first. Not that you minded much. You’d just been wasting time sprawled out on your desk chair, texting a friend about one thing or another, a cd playing in the background. You’d been moments away from asking him to come over yourself.

Clapton was already halfway in the room by the time you’d spoken, tumbling onto the floor, landing on his ass. He sat there, looking up at you with a dopey grin as you closed the window and shook your head at him. “It’s only nine,” he started, holding out a hand as you rolled your eyes. “You weren’t even in bed yet.”

You took his hand, hoisting him up. “Jesus, Clapton, you’re freezing. Did you walk all the way?”

A shrug. “It’s just a couple blocks.”

“In a tank top? You’re insane. Certifiable, even.” You were rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand, like that’d warm him up. It was sweet enough to make his stomach flip- though almost everything you did made him feel that way.

Clapton huffed a laugh, dropping onto your bed and tilting his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “You’re right, I’m so cold.” He threw in an exaggerated shiver, even as he felt the heat of your room bringing him back to a normal temperature. “Why don’t you come warm me up?”

You groaned, bringing a hand to cover your face, but he could see the grin pulling at your lips. He pulled you closer by your belt loops so you stood between his legs and spent a second taking you in- the way your lips curled up as you looked down at him, the sparkle of your eyes as your hands fell away, opting instead to clasp behind his neck.

“Well,” you began, biting your bottom lip, surveying him. Your eyes glanced towards your bedroom door- locked. Your parents were asleep by now anyway. “I can’t very well let you freeze, can I?” A muffled ‘Mm-mm’ was all the response you got, as Clapton was too busy pressing kisses to your stomach through your shirt. When you hummed and climbed onto his lap, straddling him, he knew he’d won. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes, and you scoffed as you cupped his face in both hands. “You’re unbelievable.”

He answered with a blinding smile. “You love me,” he said, and you shut him up with your lips on his.

#clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #clapton davis #ao3 #my writing #clapton davis imagine #jhutch #josh hutcherson #zee writes #mike schmidt x reader #josh futturman x reader #detention

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lokis-army-77 · 8 months

Text

Pretty Girl and her Hoodie Guy

Modern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 2.4k

It was supposed to be a sunny day until it wasn't, but that's okay because maybe love is right around the corner... or the bus stop.

Warning: E for everyone!! This is just really cute and if you don't read it I'll be very mad at yall >:(.

The first part of this is based on some pictures I saw on tiktok but I totally forgot to save it so I could give credit for the idea that it gave me.

Masterlist

It has rained almost every day in Chicago for nearly a week. So, the one day the weather forecast called for bright sunny skies and nearly eighty-degree weather, you decided to leave your umbrella in your apartment along with your umbrella.

The bus ride to campus was dry as could be, the weather was perfect and the slight breeze tickled as it made your skirt flutter around your thighs. The walk to class after getting off the bus was also crystal clear, not a single cloud in sight and the sun beat down brightly, you were thankful for the shade of the trees.

Three hours later, as you exit the English building, you notice it has gotten darker, clouds have begun to roll in. You sigh as you begin walking to the bus stop, hopeful that the weatherman was still correct about having no rain.

You and the meteorologist were both proven wrong when, halfway to the bus, the bottom fell out. Big, heavy droplets of rain started pouring down out of nowhere, almost instantly soaking you to the bone.

You begin to run as fast as your bag full of books and laptop will allow. You can only pray that the rain hasn't seeped through your backpack and ruined your things.

The bus stop is only a couple more feet away and when you make it under the awning you have a breath and set your backpack down on the bench. Today was such a bad day to wear a white shirt. The water had made it nearly see-through. Your white bra practically shining through the thin cotton fabric like a spotlight was on it.

As you try to squeeze the water out of your clothes you hear a deep cough, like someone clearing their throat. You look up. To your left is a guy, he's tall with shaggy hair and bangs almost covering his eyes. He's wearing a black hoodie and black jeans even though it had been almost eighty-three degrees mere hours ago. Your eyes catch on the glint of piercings in his ears before they wander to the peak of a tattoo showing just above the collar of his hoodie.

He looks at you with impossibly big, brown eyes, something you'd imagine only a puppy or a newborn baby to have.

"Here." He says before tugging the hoodie off. The way he reaches up and grabs the back of the garment to take it off has the shirt under it riding up. You can see an expanse of ivory skin covered in charcoal-black lines, tattoos. They cover almost every inch of skin and you suspect they go farther down, past the waistband of his jeans.

He shakes the hoodie out in front of you and you hesitate to grab it so he forces it into your shivering hands. The rain and the sudden drop in temperature are making you freeze.

"Put that on. It'll keep you warm and away from prying eyes." His smile is big and bright as he watches you put his clothes on.

It's big on you, more than big, enormous. What was a perfect fit on him, swallowed you whole. The hem came down almost to the back of your knees and the sleeves might as well have been a mile long.

"Thank you," you say softly with an even softer smile back at him.

"No worries." He then points at your hand and motions for you to reach it out to him. So, you do, without hesitation.

He grasps your hand in his and with the other, rolls up the sleeve. He then produces a pen from seemingly thin air and scribbles something down.

When he lets go of your arm, you hold it up. 10 scratchy numbers are etched over your forearm as well as a name. Eddie.

You go to ask him why he's given you his number when he beats you to it.

"Call me. I'll be needing that back." He grins, holding his fingers like a phone to his ear. You can't help the shy giggle that leaves you.

The guy, Eddie as you have just learned, then sprints through the rain and into the bus you hadn't even realized had stopped moments before.

He leaves you speechless and giddy. Butterflies are fluttering around in your stomach, making you dizzy. You have to sit down or else you think you might faint.

Never have you had an interaction like this. Something so simple and sweet. He drew you in front the first second you laid eyes on him.

It only takes you a few minutes to remember to come back to reality. Quickly you put his number in your phone under "hoodie guy (Eddie)"

....

It's a few days later when you finally work up the courage to call hoodie guy. It’s maybe three in the afternoon and as the other line rings and rings your nerves begin to eat at you as you wonder if he did really want you to call him, maybe a text would have been better.

Your thoughts are cut short when a rather chipper voice answers. “Y’ello?”

“Hi, is this Eddie?” You swear your anxiousness can be heard in your voice.

“Yeah… and who is this?” He questions.

“Oh, um. This is the girl you gave your hoodie to the other day, remember?”

“I remember you.” You could almost hear the smile stretching across his face. “Was beginning to think you wouldn’t call.”

You had it bad. Really bad. Just speaking to him for these few seconds had your heart racing. “Sorry about that. I wanted to wash it before I called.” You give him your name then, shyly introducing yourself.

He chuckles in response, “Pretty name for a very pretty girl.”

You’re glad this is a phone call, otherwise, Eddie would see how badly you are blushing. Your face is white hot and beet red, a dead giveaway to how this stranger has totally smitten you with two limited interactions.

You don’t realize you have been quiet this whole time until Eddie speaks up once more. “Hello? You there pretty girl?"

"Y-yeah," you stutter. "I'm here." You blush impossibly harder.

"Would you like to meet me at the coffee shop by the bus stop we met at? It'll be my treat." There's a hopefulness to his question.

You nod only to realize he obviously can't see you. "Yes," you answer. "I'd love to."

"Great! Can you be there in thirty?"

"Sure. I'll head that way now."

Excitedly you begin to get ready, putting way too much effort into your outfit, but hey it's not wrong to want to look good for the guy you find insanely attractive.

…

Thirty minutes later you are walking into the coffee shop dressed up in a cute, green corduroy pinafore dress, perfect for the upcoming fall weather, and a giant hoodie in your grasp.

You don't notice the large guy coming up to your side until he's poking a finger into your shoulder to grab your attention.

You jump at the sudden poke and turn to face the culprit.

"Oh'" you say surprised. "Hi."

"Hi." He smiles back. "I'm sitting over there if you want to take a seat. What do you want to drink?"

You're quick to shake your head. "You really don't have to do that. I can pay for my part." You start fumbling for your card in the back of your phone case.

He places a hand over yours. "I insist. What would you like?”

It doesn’t take much for you to give in and tell him your go-to order. After he repeats it back to you, you head to the table by the window Eddie had pointed to. His denim jacket was hung over the back of the chair, leaving you the booth seat to settle into.

The cafe is relatively empty, save for the two baristas behind the counter and the older man seated at the corner table reading a book, so it doesn’t take long for Eddie to come back with two coffees carefully balanced in one large hand and a plate with a warm croissant.

You try to help him but he tuts you away, quickly saying, “I got it, I got it.” He sets the plate down first before placing your glass in front of you and his before him. Then, he sits.

You both take slow sips from your coffee and as he looks intently at you with those eyes, you try and avoid them.

“This is for you.” He pushes the bread in your direction with the knuckle of his forefinger.

“I- thank you.” A fierce blush starts to creep up your neck and you busy yourself by drinking some more.

You know that Eddie can tell you’re nervous. Who wouldn’t be able to tell with your seldom eye contact and soft, stuttering words? He starts the conversation off slow, easing you into a more comfortable state, you’re grateful for it.

Questions like “How’s your day going” to his only little version of twenty questions finally get you to break out of your shell. He makes you laugh, a lot, to the point your stomach hurts and your muscles ache.

Conversation flows easily after the initial bump in the road. You’ve talked about college and life after; he’s studying in the music department with plans to eventually become a professional musician. He tells you about his dreams and ambitions and you can’t help but feel inspired. You tell him about the book you would love to write one day and he listens intently. He even asks questions and refers to things you stated previously in the conversation. Never have you had such a connection with anyone, not even your closest friends.

Eddie is so charming and witty that it barely even registers when both of your hands meet in the middle of the table. His larger fingers play with your smaller ones and you converse in your own little world.

You’re only broken from your state of enchantment with the other when a cafe worker approaches you.

“I’m sorry guys but we close at four on Sundays and it’s ten till.” The worker gives you a strained smile, the underlying message, “Please leave.”

You gasp in shock. “How have we been here for three hours?”

Eddie looked at you, just as surprised. “Well, time does fly when you’re having fun, pretty girl.”

You shake your head. The complement turned pet name making you blush every time he said it but not as hard as when your name rolled off his tongue.

“Come on,” he says, standing to his feet. “I’ll take you home.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you up after you quickly gather up your purse and his hoodie.

As you walk out, you both apologize profusely to the two workers for staying right until closing.

“How are you gonna take me home?” You ask. “You took the bus the day we met.” You really didn’t want him spending an extra bus fare just to escort you home.

He gives you a lopsided grin. “I took the bus 'cause I had an inkling not to listen to the weather. This is my usual ride.” Eddie arcs his hand out in front of you both, gesturing to the sleek black motorcycle resting by the curb.

“Woah. That is actually really cool.” You gush. You had always wondered what it would be like to ride on a motorcycle.

Eddie reaches out and grabs the helmet strapped to the seat and hands it to you. “Wear this.”

“What about you?”

“You’re precious cargo, far more important than me.” He answers before helping place it over your head and buckle it under your chin. Then he takes his hoody from your arms and ties it around your waist. “That should cover you up enough.” He gestures to your dress. You hadn't even thought about that detail and his mindfulness had you swooning.

He gives you a small but thorough lesson on what you do as a passenger before getting on and then helping you on after.

He drives slowly, taking less busy streets to the address you gave him, and the whole time you cling to him. Your heart beats wildly in your chest at the feeling of freedom as the wind whips around you. Every so often, Eddie will reach for your hand at his waist, or when you are stopped at a red light he automatically reaches back to cup your legs, fingers dragging up the back of your calves.

You’re sad when the ride comes to a stop outside your apartment building. You are slow you follow him off the bike and even slower to let him remove the helmet. This amazing time was coming to an end and you desperately didn’t want it to.

You can feel his calloused fingers tickle your chin as he undoes the strap. He’s careful to pull the protective gear off, fixing the strands of hair that fall out of place when he’s done. You cherish the warmth coming from his palm and it really feels like he’s about to kiss you. And you wouldn’t mind if he did. No matter if you only just met him or if this seemed to be moving fast, you wanted to know what those plump lips felt like on your own.

He leans in and your breath hitches in your lungs, your eyes close as you prepare with the one thing you need at this moment. Only, Eddie doesn’t kiss your lips, instead, he places a gentle peck on your cheek. You deflate, sad his target was somewhere else.

“Eddie?” You ask softly.

“Yeah?” He mutters your name, eyes staring into yours.

“I had a great time.”

“Me too, pretty girl.”

“Thank you for bringing me home.”

“You’re welcome.” He backs away from you and you frown just a bit. “You should get inside.”

“I should… I’ll text you?”

“Nothing I’d want more.” He slides his leg back over onto his bike and you turn to walk away.

“By Eddie.” You only get a few feet before you pause. “Oh, wait.” You untie his hoodie from your waist and rush back to Eddie’s side. “Here.”

He shakes his head. “You keep it. Looks better on you than it ever will on me. Plus, it’ll give me a reason to come see you again.”

You become shy again and the mention of seeing him again, hopeful that this wasn’t just a one-time thing to get his clothes back and that he will answer when you text or call him.

“Bye, pretty girl.” He grins and you watch him put his helmet on but he doesn’t leave just yet. No, he only leaves after he sees you enter your building and you waive to him from beyond the glass door.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #meet cute #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn fluff #modern eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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strangeshoepatrolbandit · 1 year

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Brother's best friend

Summary: You go to spend the summer at your grandparents, along with your family and the Wayne's. Will something rise between you and Damian?

Warnings: Reader is half kryptonian, meaning they can hear heartbeats.

Gender Neutral

Series Masterlist

~☆~

It was quiet. There was no sound of cars in a busy street, voices of pedestrians that became too much as they all overlapped, no musty smell of used up air. It was quiet, only the sound of the TV, animals outside, and the heartbeats of your loved ones could he heard.

Your grandparent's farm was your escape. It was where you could go when you wanted to get away from the city that you and your family lived in. Apparently, everyone agreed, because now you're spending the summer on the farm, along with your mother, father, and brothers.

Your mother was helping your grandmother clean up after breakfast. Your father was helping your grandfather with the animals, you and Jon were watching a cartoon, and Kon was still sleeping.

Despite your grandparents being two lonely farmers, more people were still going to be joining you. Everyone had decided that it would be nice to invite Bruce Wayne and his children to join in on your short vacation. You had barely gotten Jon to sleep the night he found out that they said yes, he was far too excited about what was to come. Eventually, your mother had to come in and scold him for still being up.

If you listened close enough, you could hear their plane, and if you listened even closer, you could hear their hearts and words. Which Jon had been doing the entire time he had been awake, anxiously waiting for his best friend and his family to arrive, your father and Kon doing the same. Was it a little weird that Clark, Kon, and Jon were all best friends with members of the Wayne family? Yeah, a little bit. But did you care? No.

Jon had been going on for years now about his best friend, Damian Wayne. Apparently, the two of them met due to being Robin and Superboy. Jon had told you about the many adventures the two of them had, the times they would hang out at Wayne Manor, and how much he adored Damian. You've heard similar stories about Bruce, and Tim aswell, your father and Kon sharing the same excitement as Jon over their best-friends.

Almost all of the Wayne family has heard about you, too, but not as much as Damian has. Jon is always talking about his older sibling, born just two years before himself, and a year after Damian. Jon is always talking about the things the two of you have done, what you like, any new changes you've made to your appearance. To some extent, Damian feels as if he already knows you. You also feel the same.

"I can't wait for you to meet him." Jon excitedly tells you, taking his eyes away from the small TV and looking at you. You turn to meet his gaze and offer a small smile, hoping it will get him to stop gushing about this family you've never met. Maybe you're excited about meeting a certain older brother, one that your family said came back from the dead. It's not that you don't want to meet them, it's just that you don't want to spend your summer with some strangers.

~☆~

It was about lunchtime when you could hear the plane getting closer to the farm, your family raced outside to greet their friends.

A grown man was the first to jump out of the plane, his hair wavy and black, eyes blue and skin tan. He had one of those Hollywood smiles that instantly got you plastered on a magazine. He ran up to your father and welcomed him into an embrace. He was far too young to be Bruce Wayne, but also too old to be Damian.

Another boy hopped out and jogged over to Kon. Obviously, that's Tim. His pale skin and shaggy black hair gave it away.

Who you assume was Bruce emerged next, the wrinkle between his eyebrows and his strong physique being a sign. You could hear your father whisper his name as he went up to hug the man.

An even younger boy walked out, instantly earning a yell from Jon. He looked almost identical to Bruce. Only his skin was tan, and his nose was stronger. His eyes were green, a strong contrast from the three blue-eyed men that he had traveled with. His hair was black and clean cut, styled upwards. He was gorgeous. His description could only mean that he was the one and only Damian.

Another man walked into the light. He was tall and muscular. His wavy hair was black with a stripe of white and out of his face. He was wearing sunglasses, blocking his eyes from your view. Even from the distance, you could see the scars that adorned the side of his face. Jason Todd.

You watched as your family exchanged their hellos, obviously excited about the entire situation. Just as you were about to turn and go back inside, you heard your father introducing your grandparents. That could only mean that you were next.

His arms gestured around your family before finally landing on you, "And that's, Y/N." He spoke.

The first man(whom you overheard the name of) started walking towards you, his flashy smile on display.

"Hi, I'm Dick!" He introduced himself, offering you a handshake. After you reciprocated the gesture, he put his arm over your shoulders, holding you to his side. His hand rose up to point at the other people he arrived with. "That's Bruce," he stated, pointing at the man next to your father. "That's Jason," His finger was now pointed at the man with the white streak in his hair, "Tim" was all he said as he gestured to the boy conversing with Kon. "And that's Damian." He said, pointing at the boy that was being bombarded with questions by Jon. To your surprise, he was staring right at you. His gaze was sharp and felt like he was seeing right through you.

Your eye contact was interrupted as your grandmother came rushing past you with a pitcher of tea and some cups.

~☆~

New series alert!!!

Update's will be slow.

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strawberri-blonde · 10 months

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I Was Made For Loving You- Neteyam

Summary: You’re foraging through the forest and find a rare specimen.

Warning: Smuttt

Masterlist

Walking through Pandora's forest is a peaceful experience. The sounds of nature fill the air around you, and the air is filled with the scent of lush greenery. The sun's rays filter through the treetops, casting a warm light upon the ground beneath your feet. To you, the forest is a great distraction from the hustle and bustle of your daily training for tsahík. When Mo'at sent you to grab herbs, you basically skipped out of the hut into the beautiful jungle. With each step you take, it brings a new, wonderful discovery; caressing the leaves as you stroke down the narrow path. It is truly a breathtaking landscape that makes you grateful to be an Omatikaya clan member.

You tugged on the little brown pouch that was tied to your loincloth to keep your hands free. You carefully crouched down near a fern-like bush with bright green, feathery leaves, giving the bush a wispy, elegant appearance. You remembered from your training that this plant is good for making paste with the roots, which have healing properties that stop blood from flowing and can even help deal with inflammation. Examining the different bushes on the same plant, you chose to get down on your stomach to pull at the base of the plant, digging into the cool and moist dirt. Letting out a quiet breath of air, you gripped the stem and in one strong yank, the roots sprang from the forgiving ground.

You shook off most of the dirt that you could and brought your hand to your chest. "Thank you, Eywa, for always providing," you said. Taking in the slightly bitter scent of the herb, you began to cut up the leaves along with the roots to fit in your pouch. You felt a connection with the natural resources around you. Sitting back on the back of your legs, you began to reach for another small bundle of roots when something caught your attention. It was a mushroom that sprung through the mossy grounds centimeters away from where the spartan plant has grown. It’s bright color had you wondering how you didn’t see it before. The purple color is striking and it stands out against the greens and browns.

Tilting your head, your queue swished against your back as it fell against the back of your shoulder. The elongated, bell-shaped cap of the mushroom was a beautiful purple color, with shaggy scales hanging down over the gills. You stared at it for a moment, curiosity filling your mind. You didn’t pluck it from the ground because of Mo’at's words echoing through your head: "Never pick things without knowing what they are, and especially never put something in your mouth if you have no idea what it is." Carefully, you moved closer to the fungi, pushing back some forest litter to try and find another like it.

You lift up a large, decaying leaf, and that's when you see it: a mature version of the purple fungi. The cap, once lilac, has turned the darkest shade of purple, almost to the point where it looks black. The black appears to be dissolving into an inky liquid, which contains the spores. The gills remain a light purple and run down the length of the stem, which is also covered in shaggy scales. Then it hits you what this specimen is: a mushroom that only grows from an atokirina. When the woodsprites lay to the ground on the soil, sometimes the roots don’t form, but instead, the seedling decays and what forms from that is Atkirinspxam.

Supposedly, if you stumble upon a mature species, it’s a sign from Eywa that your mind needs to open. You see, the Atkirinspxam can cause hallucinations and changes in perception. They can affect your mood and thoughts. The idea of that scared you, but you never second-guessed Eywa's intention, not after pairing you and Neteyam together. Ever since Eywa told Mo’at about your Union, you had to admit that you were nervous at first, but Neteyam is everything you've ever wanted in a partner.

Neteyam is a remarkable person. He is strong, compassionate, loyal, and protective. He has an unbreakable connection to the planet Pandora and our culture. Neteyam's leadership skills are impressive, and he always puts others' needs before his own. He is loyal to those he loves and values trust and honesty in his relationships. Neteyam is a great communicator, which makes him an excellent partner who can effectively express his thoughts and feelings to find common ground with his partner. His personality is a perfect blend of strength, empathy, and intelligence.

Eywa gave you no reason to not trust her when she provided you with nothing but happiness. You carefully drew your knife from the scabbard on your thigh and delicately cut the mushroom from the stem. The cap was thin and fragile, with a unique texture that was almost paper-like. The aroma was sweet and tempting, but something inside you made you resist the urge to taste it. You placed it in your woven pouch and began to make your way to the training grounds, where you hoped to find Neteyam.

You feel excited as you make your way towards the training grounds. The walk is short, lasting only about 5 minutes, but your body is filled with a surge of energy, and your heart races with anticipation of your findings. You pause for a moment, taking in the beautiful scenery and eager to see Neteyam in action. The ground is adorned with beautiful floral arrangements and colorful petals, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of flowers and the hum of bees. In the distance, a large group of Na'vi is gathered practicing their fighting skills, and you can see Neteyam among them. The sight of him in action is awe-inspiring, and your heart skips a beat as you watch him. Suddenly, as Neteyam flips his opponent onto their back, his amber eyes lock with yours, sending chills down your spine. You can't help but feel drawn to him.

The air intensified as you both moved together like magnets. Neteyam pushed off his friend Hukato, ignoring the taunts and coos from his friends. Neteyam picked up his pace to avoid walking a long length, and seeing him pick up his speed, you did the same, causing you both to crash into one another, filling the air with your joyful laughs. Neteyam's sweaty body had you swooning as you held onto one another. From his sleek skin to his musk that filled your nostrils, it all had your insides warming up. "Yawne, what are you doing here? Not that I mind," Neteyam's calloused fingertips pushed back a loose strand behind your ear. "I'm always excited to see my beautiful mate." Your heart soared at his words. You could feel eyes on the both of you, but you really didn't care.

You kept your arms interlinked as you spoke. "Neteyam, I found something while foraging for Mo'at." This made the boy tilt his head in confusion, but seeing the excitement in your eyes, he couldn't help but let his grin grow. "But I was hoping that I could show you." You stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "In private." Of course, if any young adult male had their mate whisper about privacy, smelling sweet like the herbs they collected, they would only nod their head, wearing a dopey smile on their face too.

Seeing that lopsided grin, accompanied by half-closed eyes, conveyed a sense of shyness at how much you affected him. A lavender hue made its way to your face, making Neteyam let out a chuckle before kissing your lips. He loved when you blushed. His hands left yours to cup your cheeks, tilting you back slightly, making him towered over you. "What do you want to show me?" he mumbled against your lips, sending you into a whiplash.

"Umm,” you let out as Neteyam reached down to the small pouch, you were reminded of what you were going to show him. "Thank Eywa your greedy hands reminded me," you said playfully. Making Neteyam laugh out loudly then reached his arms out to try and tickle you, but you swatted his hands away and took off into the brush. He chased after you, and the moment turned into a playful game of predator and prey. You ran around the trees and bushes, feeling the rush and thrill of the moment.

The soil was rich and loamy under your feet, and you could smell the damp leaves and the bitter smell of the spartan roots. Right as you ran around the tree near the spartan bushes, Neteyam caught up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tackling you to the ground. You fell onto his lap, letting out a shriek of delight as his hands started tickling your sides. He held you tightly, pulling himself into a sitting position, brushing his warm breath over your neck, sending another wave of tickles. You tried to wrestle away from his grip, but it was no use as Neteyam was a strong man.

His hands held onto you firmly, allowing you to rest from your previous torture. Your breaths were rapid, along with Neteyam's. You rested your cheek against his forehead, and that's when you saw the hole that you dug up for the spartan roots not even an hour ago. "Neteyam, remember how I told you about going foraging for Mo'at?" Neteyam lifted his head to look into your eyes, giving you his full attention. "Well, I found this mushroom." The Na'vi remained quiet as he watched you maneuver around his hands that still staked their claim on your hips. As you ever so gently pulled the purplish-black mushroom into Neteyam's view, you could see its reflection in his amber eyes.

Curiosity flooded the Omatikaya male's strong features as he looked at the strange specimen. "Is this... Atkiria-spxam?" Neteyam tilted his head as he spoke. You giggled at his poor attempt at pronouncing the fungi, but your pride grew as he did know what he was talking about.

"Not only handsome but smart," Neteyam kissed your jaw in response. "It's called an Atkirinspxam." You twirled the stem between your fingers, causing the cap to spin. Neteyam let the word slip past his lips, making you nod your head in acknowledgment that he said it right. "But I'm so impressed that you even knew its name from the rarity of it." Neteyam shrugged his shoulders continuously, leaving light kisses upon your throat.

“I just try to pay attention when Mo’at speaks because she’s an intelligent leader, and Kiri doesn’t stop talking about what you two do, during training. Plus I do listen to you yawne.”

As Neteyam took the specimen in his hands, you hummed a response. "Well, since you knew its name, did you know that this specific shroom causes hallucinations that Eywa wants you to see?" Neteyam knew this because Kiri had explained those kinds of mushrooms before. They were the ones that "made you see your path." These mushrooms made you have no control over your emotions, and they made you be your true self. Not to lie, it sounded appealing to the young warrior. Kiri had also experienced humans that had similar mushrooms on their planet that caused hallucinations as well. However, Neteyam didn't say anything because he wanted to hear you talk. He loved the way your eyes widened in awe, and how excited you got going over your findings. He found it endearing.

Neteyam smelled the sweet fungi, and you continued to ramble on. It smelt sweet but nowhere near the smell of you in heat, causing his body to react. "And I-I found it," this had you shift in Neteyam's lab from the nerves, not making his situation better. "The person who finds it, is supposed to eat it, but I don't want to do it alone." This had Neteyam widen his eyes. "Teyam, I was hoping that you'd split it with me."

A lot of emotions ran through your body as you grabbed onto his hand that held the mushroom. "I know in tradition it's meant to be done alone, but when I first discovered it, it was like I had to see you. It felt like my body was being led towards your direction." Neteyam's eyes softened at your words, and he brought his hands to your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let out a tiny gasp moan at the sensation.

Neteyam chuckled against your lips before pulling away to press his forehead against yours. "Y/n, I'd never let you experience anything alone. We're bonded for life, remember?" You sheepishly smiled, watching as Neteyam pulled away from you slightly to grab his knife from his scabbard against his hip and perfectly cut the mushroom vertically. "Eywa hasn't stirred us wrong yet." This made you giggle like a young Na'vi who had just gotten caught stealing a sweet treat.

“This is so chaotic.” You admitted out loud feeling the sun rays caress the tops of your skin.

Neteyam looked over the cut mushroom, he handed you the better piece letting the English word pounce through his pointy ears. “You’re been hanging out with Lo’ak too much. Chaotic. You never use those English words.” You took the sliver piece of fungi getting the black ink onto your fingertips.

“Maybe I’m just trying to use the words, my new family uses.” This had Neteyam beam in happiness. Neteyam kissed you again, then made his way towards your temple leaving a long lasting feeling of his lips on your skin. He loved how much his family loved you. And what was really special to him was that you loved them back. It meant a lot to him.

The air around you stilled, feeling the intensity of the moment. Neteyam pulled back from you, allowing you both to look into each other's eyes. "Are you ready, yawne?"

You took a deep breath, then nodded your head ever so gently. "As I'll ever be," you said. You both quickly placed the halves of the Atkirinspxam into your mouths and bit down onto the spongy texture. As you tasted the earthy and savory mushroom, you felt a rush of excitement.

"Okay, that's weird," Neteyam laughed out as you both managed to swallow the meaty texture. "Why was that good?" Both of your eyes widened in shock at how something so poisonous-looking could taste like a normal snack.

"I was about to say that," you pushed on his chest with the outside of your wrist, then brought your fingers to your mouth, cleaning them off. Neteyam mimicked your actions, but the sticky substance on his tongue made him imagine eating something else.

“So now, I guess we wait until it starts to digest," he said as his thoughts circled around his head, making it impossible to not form a boner. You were so focused on 'feeling the effects' that you began to raise your arms up in the air, then pressed your hands together, palms facing one another. Finally, you slowly brought your hands down in front of your face in a prayer pose.

Seeing you in this light was a sight to see. The way the sunlight hit your face provided Neteyam the perfect view of your beauty. You no doubt had rather soft facial features than most Na'vi, like Neteyam himself, who has sharper facial muscles. Your jawline was a little more rounded, and your cheeks were plump, which held the most beautiful blush that Neteyam had ever seen. To the young warrior, you were the most beautiful woman in the clan. When he was informed Eywa's chosen for him, and then met you, it was like all the training, the rules, all the punishments seemed to be worth it.

Neteyam thought you were too good for him. You always woke up before him, even in the earliest mornings before a hint of light. You loved making him breakfast and always made so much that he'd have leftovers for lunch. On hot days, you'd make some excuse to Mo'at that you were out of a herb, but in fact, you were just taking Neteyam fresh water and cool fruits. As he sipped the water gratefully, you pulled out a fan and began to fan him down. Neteyam had never been taken care of so lovingly in his life. Tears formed in his eyes as he held your face in his hands. "Yawne, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Hearing his sweet words, you visibly melted into his touch. It was like your body was turning into mush. "Teyam," you began as you ran your hands through his hair, after learning recently that he loved it.

"Shh…" he whispered before planting the most passionate kiss you had ever experienced. You could feel the intensity of his emotions in this act of love. Your hands tightened around his locks as you shifted onto your knees to straddle over his hips, hoping to distract him. You noticed Neteyam focusing on you, taking the pressure off his cock, so you sucked gently on his Cupid's bow. This caused his lips to part, allowing you access to his warm mouth. You would die on your deathbed with the testimony that Neteyam was the best taste of anything you've ever had. His mouth was always fresh from the minty herb that grows along the sides of mountains. He claims that he just liked the taste, but your theory is that he knows it drives you insane. Some might ask why not just eat the herb, but it just wasn't the same. Neteyam was better, so much better. As your needy tongue massaged gently into his own, you could feel his hands roam your body, squeezing you sensually along your skin, sending this hot pool to warm in your loincloth.

In the heat of the moment, a low growl escaped from the Na'vi's throat, causing you to clench around nothing. Neteyam pulled away from you, and his eyes were black with the thinnest ring of amber as the border. But what really caught you off guard was that his sclera was red, and you didn't know that you looked the same way.

“Ma’Y/n.” Neteyam’s left hand grabbed onto the base of your tail while his other wrapped around your neck. “You smell so good.” In one swift motion, he pushed you onto the soft dirt on your back, with his body in between your bent legs. He pressed kisses down your neck while his hands worked on your decorative top, fumbling with the tiny string that held the flowers together.

“Neteyam just rip it off.” You don’t where this sudden urgency came from but Neteyam liked it. He liked it a lot.

The warrior moved from the tops of your breasts to place a hot, open kiss on your lips, using all his strength (which didn't take much) to pop the string, sending beads, flowers, and leaves scattered around you. You pulled away from his kiss to sink your head in the ground, feeling something so euphoric wash over you. Seeing the dazed look in your eyes, the man pulled back to reach for his queue, making you moan out desperately. "Tsaheylu?"

The moment was so intense that you both didn't notice that the world around you had become sort of distorted. The colors were more vibrant, and the trees seemed to dance with the light breeze. The ground felt like one giant bed, but it didn't cross your minds. All your thoughts were on each other.

"Never have to ask." Somehow, through this thick layer of sexual tension, you pushed yourself up to grab your queue, bringing it to meet with his own. As the pinkish tendrils reached out to one another, looking as touch-starved as the both of you, your mouth widened in pure pleasure as the bond was formed. Neteyam was so overcome with the sensation that he hunched forward, leaning his weight on you, wanting to feel you.

Feeling the weight of Neteyam on top of you made you feel like he was the one who kept you grounded, metaphorically and physically. He was this beautiful rock that centered your life. You picked up your legs to wrap them around his waist, making sure that he wouldn't disappear. But Neteyam wasn't going to disappear. In fact, he thinks that if anyone sadly happened to walk upon this path, he'd have to kill them from ruining such a moment.

Drowning himself with the smell of you, Neteyam placed open-mouthed kisses down your body, clenching his fist on the ground down below, feeling your pleasure through Tsaheylu. He paid special attention to your sensitive nipples, knowing how absolutely feral you'd get. One day, Neteyam swore to himself that he's going to make you cum just from him sucking on those perky blue nips. But right now, he's too impatient. "Feel good, yawne."

Your soft moans should have been a giveaway, but you were quickly learning that Neteyam liked to hear you. "So good, Neteyam." He sucked on your nipple, twirling his tongue, lapping at your mound, causing you to express a loud but broken moan. "How did I get so lucky?"

Neteyam moaned around you, then pulled away to kiss your lips. "You treat me so well, Y/n. You're the most wonderful mate." You grabbed the back of his head, keeping his lips locked on yours for a moment before pulling back to look at his handsome face.

"Teyam, I love you," you said. Neteyam's head swayed with a dopey smile, and he brought you into a kiss while still making that sickeningly sweet grin that made you grow one of your own.

“Ma’Y/n,” his breath was hot against your face feeling his hands wonder down towards your loincloth. “I love you so much.” You couldn’t breathe as Neteyam slid his tongue into your mouth, not giving you any warning but you didn’t care. You clenched your legs onto his hips pulling him towards where you needed him the most. Feeling you rut against him, Neteyam slipped his tongue back into his mouth, then pulled away leaving you both with wet and swollen lips. “Let me show you how much.” The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you gazed into Neteyam's dark and hungry eyes.“Because now I have to ravish you.”

Hearing those words you began to impatiently wiggle your hips needing to feel him. Neteyam didn’t have you waiting any longer as his large hands pawed at your loincloth. Looking down at the wet spot of the material, Neteyam couldn’t help but smirk down at you, gliding his middle finger over your clothe slit causing you to whimper from desire. “Did I do this, yawne?” His teasingly finger circled around your heat making you squirm into the dirt, letting out a high-pitch moan that sent birds flying in the air, and because of the small world that y'all were in, neither of you noticed.

“Neteyam, please.” You choked out a moan not realizing the wild look you had in your eyes. He doesn’t torture you any longer from his own needs. His hand left your heat to grab onto the soft material, unwrapping you, exposing your pretty pussy to his hungry gaze. You were glistening wet, making the man’s mouth water. “She’s so pretty.” You didn’t say anything as he crouched down bringing your legs over his shoulder taking his time kissing, biting and sucking down your thighs to reach where you needed him the most. “My pretty pussy.”

Your dirt covered hands flew through to the top of his micro braids giving them a tug. “Teyam, please I need your mouth.” He chuckled against your skin, looking up to lock eyes with you.

“Don’t worry, yawne. I got you.” He started with a sharp lick from your velvet folds, causing you to let out an airy moan keeping his head in place. Through his hooded eyes, Neteyam makes sure to watch your face as he laps up your sweetness. “Taste so good.” He closed his lips around you, spreading your folds farther apart to suck on clit.

“Oh, Eywa.” Your eyes were blinded from pleasure, your legs tightened around his head and your hands pulled at his hair harder fulling grinding back against his tongue. Between Neteyam’s salvia, and your wetness, you could feel it all drip down between your cheeks running along your tail; but you didn’t care, not with the pleasure you were receiving from your mate. “Neteyam it’s too good.” Your back arched as he moans around your sensitive bud causing your body to convulse.

His wet tongue slipped down to circle your entrance, then his arms maneuvered under your butt spreading your legs wider. His rough hands gripped onto your thighs while burying his head farther into your cunt nudging his broad nose onto your clit, swiping his tongue side to side teasing your pussy. “Oh yeah, baby. Take care of me so good.” You both didn’t know where your new found confidence came from. Maybe it was the effect of the Atkirinspxam. But hearing your praises the warrior couldn’t help but grind into the ground trying to relieve his harden cock. You noticed this instantly wanting a taste.

But you were paralyzed at the sensation of his tongue lapping at your entrance almost like he was making out with your heat. Then suddenly his finger teased your entrance only for a moment before sliding it in. More ‘oh yeah’s left your lips making Neteyam ready to bust without even being touch. You’re sounds, smell, taste; it all did something for the warrior. Knowing that you were getting off from his touch. It sure was an ego booster for sure.

His finger pumped in and out of you in a steady motion, while his tongue circled around your clit in a strange but pleasuring pattern. Truth be told, the boy was writing his name in your skin leaving his ever-lasting mark; Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan and to be even more truthful, his mind was too focused on listening to the sounds of your moans, to make sure you were enjoying yourself. So he’d forget where he was at in his own name and would just have to start over, and over, and over again.

Trust and believe you were enjoying yourself, you felt so numb from pleasure. Your back would arch then go limp as he worked you out. Your thighs were shaking, and they felt like they were on fire but you had nothing to complain about. Especially, with the way your mate was eating you out.

Then suddenly, Neteyam easily slid a second finger in your juicy heat causing you to moan like a wild animal. “Oh Teyam, that right. Fuck me so good.” You started to grind back onto his half soaked face, but his hand held you in place while he somehow buried himself more into your cunt, having you scream in ecstasy. “Neteyammmm!” The man kept to his word. He was ravishing you like this was his last meal and he was going to enjoy every thing detail about it.

Without harming, he added his last finger into your hole, stretching you out prepping you for his cock. The familiar coil and hot tension in your abdomen began to form as his fingers repeatedly hit that soft spongy surface deep within your walls. “I’m gonna-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as he sucked harder onto your clit, making you spasm into his mouth. Your vision blurred as your whole body shook in pleasure reaching the highest peak of your orgasim . “Nete-“ broken moans left your mouth, but the man didn’t let up. He kept his tongues pace, licking you clean.

As you body stilled and you unclenched around Neteyam fingers, you felt him slowly kiss your velvet lips. “So good, Y/n. My beautiful girl. Tastes better than any food Eywa has created.” You didn’t have the strength to do anything but look down at him through your blurry eyes. Neteyam pulled out his fingers making you instantly feel empty. Hearing your whimpers, the warrior smiled cheekily, then took his fingers into his mouth licking them clean, of the juices.

“Neteyam.” Your voice became breathless as you watched him moan around your taste. “Kiss me.” He smiled down at you as he crawled over your body, pressing kisses here and there, before finally reaching your lips. Neteyam felt your shaky legs underneath him as he gave you a wet open mouth kiss.

You clenched your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you. Neteyam moaned into your mouth, letting his member rut against your lower stomach. Feeling his hard member, you slid a hand towards his loincloth, pulling at the material until it was unraveled from his body, letting his cock fall onto your warm skin. “Neteyam, I want a taste.” You mumbled against his lips making him pull back with hunger still in his dark eyes. “Please s’not fair, I don’t get a taste either.”

“I guess, I can’t fight that logic.” Neteyam laughed out cheekily, placing a peck to your lips before crawling off you, to stand on his knees, and being the gentleman he is. He helped you onto yours as well, then pushed you to sit back on your heals. Slowly, he began to stand, but very quickly realized that his legs were wobbly. He wasn’t going to show you that so instead, he grabbed your cheek in his hand to keep him steady.

The way you just loved having this man tower over you. You loved knowing he was in control, maybe it was pathetic but you truly didn’t care. You leaned into his touch finally getting a good look of his cock. It stood tall, jerking in the air desperate for any kind of attention. Looking at the pinkish purple tip, you trailed your daze down the blue shaft. Your eyes lingered onto the fluorescent bright dots that covered his beautiful skin.

“Such a pretty cock,” you said making Neteyam moan out moving his thumb over to your lips. He pulled your bottom lip down, making you part your lips. Allowing him to pull your mouth towards his glisten tip.

Neteyam’s hand moved from your cheek, to the back of your head. You stuck out your tongue letting his cock settle itself against your tongue. As the sensitive skin felt the soft surface of your tongue, it jumped up nudging your nose. The pair of you laughed at the moment, but it was cut short from you wrapping your hand around his girth; making your hand look so small. “Yawne, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” Your cheeks flushed at his words, making Neteyam jerk his hips at the sight. “I’m the lucky one Y/n so goddamn lucky.” You loved it when Neteyam used English curse words. It was making you feel the desire build in your core.

You jerked his dick once, before bringing your hand towards your mouth to lick your palm, then you returned your hand back on his shaft. You spat onto his cock, then took his tip into your mouth sucking down, loving the sweet and musky taste, that his precum was providing you. “Fuck, babygirl. Take care of me so good.” As you jerked the bottom half of his shaft, and continued to suck, and lick his tip. You brought your other hand to wipe the juices that had ran down your inner legs, collecting it in your hand. You even brought your hand up to your cunt, collecting a pool of the salvia/cum mixture.

You pulled off the warrior with a pop, looking up at him with big eyes and a big dopey smile with flushed cheeks that Neteyam loves so much. He watched with lustful eyes as he saw the wetness in your hand. “Come on, babygirl. Don’t make me wait.” You wrapped your hand around the tip, twisting firmly down his shaft, reaching the base then gliding it back up completely soaking his cock with your juices. “Fuck.” He moaned out so you jerked his dick a few more times before tilting it up, so you could lick a line from the base of his balls, to the base of his shaft, trailing up towards his tip. You tapped the mushroom tip along your tongue a couple times before taking him in your mouth fully. “Yawne, it’s too good.”

Neteyam didn’t want to cum in your mouth. He wanted all of his semen to paint your walls. He held you in place for a brief second before pulling you off him, loving the gasping sounds that escaped your lips in a frenzy. “I need to cum inside you Y/n. I need to cum in your pussy.” His mouth went back towards your lips. “Can I do that yawne?” You moaned out nodding your head desperately, taking his thumb in your mouth swirling it around eagerly. Neteyam pulled his thumb away from your mouth to cup your face with both of his hands, then bent down to press a kiss to your swollen wet lips. “So good to me, yawne. I’m gonna prove to you why Eywa put us together.” Neteyam bite down on your bottom lip before pulling away to grab your hands in his. He kissed your cheek before pulling your queues away making you feel so empty.

“Neteyam.” You whimper out not liking that he was walking away from your line of sight to walk behind you.

“Gotta fuck out any doubt that you might have.” His hand caressed the back of your skin, slightly pushing you to lay on your stomach.

“No doubts, Teyam.” You whimper out pressing the palms of your hands against the soft mossy soil. Your cheek rested against the dirt while your hips remained in the air. He liked that response, tapping his cock against the curve of your ass you jerked back with a moan. “Neteyam, please fuck me. Fill me up.” You wiggled your hips trying to show him how desperate he made you. “You know you want to.” Neteyam dropped his head back then knelt down on his knees pressing his tip against your wet folds. “Please, Teyam. Pleassseee.”

The warrior spread your folds, to tap the tip of his cock against your clit, making you clenched around nothing. “She’s so desperate for me.” Neteyam slowly slipped his pink tip into your heat causing the both of you to moan at the sensation. “And she always takes me so good.” You didn’t know if he was talking about you or your pussy and you didn’t care.

Neteyam grabbed your queue giving it a soft tug making you arch your back to take him fully, but the man only allowed just the tip to enter your heat. He had to compose himself before pounding into you. He wanted to feel you, so he grabbed his queue from behind his shoulders, to bring it to yours preforming Tsaheylu. Both of you let out loud moans, and Neteyam finally slipped his cock deep into your warm walls, stopping when he felt that familiar soft spot within your abdomen. Your mouth opened as you felt him readjust himself to set a nice pace.

“So big.” You whisper out so quietly, thinking that Neteyam didn’t heard you; but he did. It made his member throb from need, even with it being buried deep inside of you.

“And all yours, yawne.” His hands gripped onto your hips as he began to pound into you, in a steady pace that had you moaning like a animal in heat. “Take me so well.” Your vagina clenched around his cock, creating such a delicious friction. “That’s right, Y/n squeeze my cock again.” Of course, you listened to your mate and clenched around even tighter.

The sounds of your skin slabbing against one another echoed through the forest along with both of your sounds of pleasure. “Neteyam,” you moaned out as you felt him kiss you shoulder blade pressing himself more into you but his thrusting never stopped. He was relentless with you, and you loved every second of it. “So good. Oh, oh, oh my-” your words got caught in your throat as he slipped a hand under your body, to reach in between your legs, to rub circles onto your swollen clit.

Pleasure rippled through both of your body’s as you grinded your hips back into his thrusts. “Fuck babygirl. You feel so good.” Pounding into you, hitting that soft spot had you squeezing around him, convulsing around his thick member. “Oh yeah.” Neteyam placed his hands, on the either side of your head into the dirt while his thrusts met with your movements, causing his mind to get in his foggy state.

Your tight pussy and the way you were fucking him back had Neteyam slowly loose control. He placed kisses along the back of your neck sucking and licking your sweet skin. His hips snapped into yours with such force you could feel that familiar coil in your deep abdomen. “Neteyam,” you moaned out tightening around him again. “Take such good care of me.” Your words were muffled by sharp teeth sinking into your skin. A squeal escaped your lips making Neteyam pull away to lick his mark clean. He wanted everyone to know who you belong to.

“My babygirl’s taking me so well.” The muscles in your stomach tighten as he continued to pound into you hitting that one spot.

“Teyam, I’m so close.” Hearing the broken tones in your voice, Neteyam slid an arm around your neck, resting your chin in the junction of his arm and picked up his pace against your clit then began to slam his hips into you just a little harder, feeling his cock enter into another space in your stomach make you chock out a moan. “So full.”

Feeling the way you squeezed around him and how wet your pussy was, Neteyam was on the break of spilling his load into you, but he wanted you to cum first. “Talk to me babygirl, you almost there?” He was thrusting into you without any mercy making it so hard for you to catch a breathe. Your mouth parted while tears leaked down your closed eyes onto your flushed cheeks.

You couldn’t speak as this overwhelming pleasure washed over you. Broken moans left your mouth and you clamped down onto Neteyam’s massive length making it so hard for him to keep moving. But he just fucked into you harder chasing his own high after yours. His mouth went towards your shoulder applying another bite onto your salty skin. You moaned out as his teeth punctured into you soft blue complexion. You loved knowing he wanted everyone to know you were his. That he was proud to stake his claim on you.

Neteyam continued to rut into you, but at a much slower pace, to feel your pleasure through the bond. You both let out moans as love spread through your emotions. The warrior dropped his tight hold on your neck and his other hand slipped away from your soaked pussy. He licked away the juices before slowly caressing the back of your head to tilt your face towards his waiting lips. The kiss was sweet and it expressed so much love. Neteyam pulled away from you to see your fucked out face. Sweat and dirt littered your flushed face making something stir in Neteyam’s chest. “Yawne, you were so good for me. Took me so good.” You hummed at his words only to let out a tiny squeak as he thrusted into you slowfully before pulling out. You felt so empty, but he didn’t disconnect the bond, which you loved more than anything. Carefully, the boy laid on his side caressing his fingers over your dirty skin.

The once bright sky had darkened but with the amount of stars in the sky made it easy for the man to see the darker blue stripes on your skin, for him to trace. Neither of the Na’vi cared to wonder why these ‘stars’ were moving. You both still seemed to be in this dazed state.

Although stars were present in the sky, the lights floating above you were atokirina, or woodsprites. They were dancing around the two of you, as if in celebration of something.

“Y/n, I’m gonna let you rest for a moment then I’m gonna kiss all over your body, and make you cum for the third or fourth time tonight.” You let out an aired giggle as you turned your face to meet his still darken eyes. “Then my love,” he leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead making more woodsprite’s float in a circle around the two of you. “I’ll carry you to that small waterfall by that area where you completed your first hunt, and I’ll wash the dirt off you.” You moaned as he continued to press kisses on your face. “Then once your all nice and clean babygirl. I’ll make a nice area for us to rest by the water cause I know how peaceful water sounds are for you.” Finally, Neteyam pressed his lips to yours desperately trying to show you how much love he has for you. “I was made for loving you, Y/n.”

“Neteyam, I was the one who was made for loving you.” Before you could react, you and Neteyam both jerked your heads to look down at your bodies, feeling the light touches of Atokirina jumping on your skin. The overwhelming feeling washed over both of you as you watched the woodsprites jump from each other's bodies.

As you both turned away from the seedlings to look into each other's eyes, it was a beautiful feeling knowing that you found your person. Your eyes remained open as you leaned into each other for a simple kiss, then pulled away to savor the moment. You understood what Eywa was saying and what she wanted you to see. It was right in front of you, in the form of a mighty warrior.

Not gonna lie idk how I feel about this guys. Let me know how you feel about this imagine.

~ Caroline

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x y/n #neteyam smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam

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peoplesgraves · 10 months

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Yandere Scooby Doo Headcanons

•Originally you were just a hitchhiker they picked up (totally ignoring Velma’s warnings). The more nights and days they spent with you crammed in the van and even helping out on cases, they all start to realize just how nice it is to have another member of mystery inc, especially one as cute as you.

•Fred would be the first to fall for you. Realistically he is weak to pretty people and probably falls in love like 8 times a day but it’s different with you! You’re not some passing fad, your love is the real deal. At least to Fred. He won’t be offended if you reject him at first because he just assumes that you’ll be together eventually. Like eventually he’ll figure out just the right way to make you love him back but until then he’s so happy to spend every day finding new ways to love you. When you’re on cases he always, always assigns you to stay with him and do something safer like watching his trap. He needs to keep you safe above all else so he’ll rarely leave your side. He would be the most likely to kidnap you.

•Shaggy falls for you next. He trusts Fred, he always has. So if Fred likes you then Shaggy will try to like you to. He ends up liking you too much though. You’re always down to share your snacks with him or comfort him after a particularly freaky case. You two always sleep in the back together (witch Scooby of course) because he rarely ever has a bad dream when you’re next to him. Shaggy wouldn’t consider himself brave and neither would anyone else, but for you he is. He’ll jump straight in the claws of any monster to keep you safe. He’s ok with you having your freedom because he trusts you not to leave him, if he ever does feel like you’ll leave him he still won’t lock you up but he would cry and beg and emotionally manipulate you.

•Daphne would be next. She’d only be after shaggy because it takes some time for her to realize that it’s not your fault that Fred has a thing for you. At first she tries to befriend you partly to make up for her original poor behavior and partly to try and figure out what Fred liked so much. She becomes just as obsessed with you as he is. She’s always finding an excuse to sit on your lap or just be really really close to you in some way. Daphne would also start buying you guys like matching jewelry or something, like a classy collar that won’t make you suspicious. She would also very likely kidnap you but it’s just because she literally can’t stand being away from you for too long, very selfish but also self aware enough to try and make up for it.

•Velma falls last. She’s the only one who definetly didn’t want to pick you up so she’s initially very suspicious of you. Glaring, asking probing questions and things like that. Whatever you did to gain her trust would be something small that you wouldn’t remember but she would never forget. Like absentmindedly calling her pretty or asking about her latest project. She feels so seen and understood by you and gets kind of addicted to it. She’s spent her entire life feeling overlooked and misunderstood so she takes great care to make sure you don’t feel that way. She keeps notebooks of things you tell her so she won’t forget and is a big big stalker. If there’s something to know and understand about you then Velma wants to know about it. She would not kidnap you because she values your happiness over her anxiety.

•Scooby! People say that dogs take on the traits of their owners so while I wouldn’t say Scooby is yandere he would be very easily influenced by everyone else. If he sees Fred keeping you in the van more often than not, then he’ll start to do the same. He’ll questions things at first but everyone just says it to protect/help/take care of you so he goes along with it. He really does love you, you’re one of his best friends! It’s just his other best friends are more convincing.

Part 2 with the hex girls?

#Yandere Scooby Doo #yandere #yandere cartoon #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

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mlmshipbracket · 2 months

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ROUND 3: POLL #2

ROUND 3 POLLS [HERE]

PROPAGANDA BELOW

Siffrin/Isabeau:

I've put mid paragraph spoilers in || brackets || and paragraphs of spoilers make "spoilers ->"

I should mention that them having romantic feelings for each other is a partial spoiler?

What if. A silly little he/they guy. But! He's really messed up emotionally and mentally. Like. Constantly puts others first to his own detriment and calls himself manipulative kind of messed up. Also he's in a time loop. NOT a fun one. But! There's this jock in his party that he can joke with. And they looove making him smile! And! That jock is head over heels for our tiny hero. But! Neither of them can admit their feelings! ||Even if they know the feelings are mutual!!|| AND THE JOCK DOESN'T KNOW HE'S IN A TIME LOOP!!! AND LITTLE GUY WON'T TELL HIM! CAUSE THEY DON'T WANT HIM TO WORRY!!

I love them sooo much! They are my favorite he/they x ||trans masc|| couple <3

Siffrin is soooo insecure and I'm 100% sure Isa could fix him if he wanted to. They love telling each other just the worst puns and jokes imaginable.

[SPOILERS] -> Isa was a big nerd before he decided he wanted to be a huge jock and now he wants to design clothes now that he saved his county (along side his other friends)

Siff is just a little guy (literally)(he is short) who loves the stars abs doesn't remember a lot about his past. He constantly worries if he's being enough for the rest of his companions and always tries his best to make sure they're happy. He has soooo much trouble seeing value in himself and prioritizing his own needs and it makes me soooo sad :( he deserves to have someone like Isa.

[SPOILERS] -> Siff knows that Isa wants to confess after thier battle w the bbeg, but siff can't get Ida to say it no matter what they try :(

Fred Jones/Norville "Shaggy" Rogers:

Opposites attract, don't they? Do these two really need more propaganda than that?

#isat siffrin #isat isabeau #siffrin/isabeau #isafrin #in stars and time #fred jones #shaggy rogers #fraggy #fred jones/shaggy rogers #scooby doo #tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #mlm ship #mlm ship poll #mlm ship bracket #mlm ship bracket tournament #mlm ship bracket 2024 #mlm ship bracket tournament 2024 #fourthr3

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tinykonig · 1 year

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König x Reader Headcanons

this is my first post!!!! im so excited!! i have had an extremely annoying day and just wanted to write these down to cheer me up a bit- hope you guys like them as well :) some of these are self indulgent so forgive me. im writing my könig fic but its taking a while since finals are upon me :/ Warnings: NSFW at the bottom, I put an indicator before :)

He is an extremely active listener. If he’s standing and you are talking to him, he has his feet pointed towards you and his head ducked down a bit so he can hear you better since he’s so tall. Nods along to whatever you say and generally has attentive body language

Remembers the smallest details from any conversation. You tell him a story about your childhood pet and months later he will casually say the pet’s name in another conversation. It always takes you off guard a little

When he realizes he likes you, he panics. Writes frantically in his journal for about 3 hours about it.

You catch on to his little crush pretty quickly, given how he lingers near you more than anyone else and gets shy at the smallest interactions

When you finally confess to him that you feel similarly he is so incredibly happy but flustered. Had to take a cold shower that night to calm himself down

Gives you little gifts all the time (one of his love languages for sure). A drawing he did, a flower he saw on the side of the road, some candy he brought from home, etc

Also collects anything you may gift him. Hoards them and protects them like they are living and breathing

Goes through them on nights when you two have to be apart. He can be extremely sentimental

If you are an artist in anyway, he is your HYPE MAN. Hangs up your drawings/poems/photographs, whatever it may be, in his little dorm room

He melts if you cook/bake him something homemade. Like seriously might get choked up. He loves the smell of baked goods, it always makes him feel right at home. You always try to bake him something on his birthday and he is over the moon about it

Protective but knows you can handle yourself most of the time. Despite his introverted nature he will defend you loudly and aggressively if he senses that it’s necessary

He loves any little weird quirks you may have. You love the smell of clean laundry? He thought it was so cute when you would sniff the shirts coming out of the dryer

OH OH OH LOVES THE THING WHERE YOU HAVE ONE HEADPHONE AND HE HAS THE OTHER AND YOU LISTEN TO THE SAME MUSIC AND JUST HANG OUT. oh man

Accidentally bumps into/knocks you with his hands or arms soooo often. He’s a big boy who doesnt quite have spatial awareness sometimes

He feels so bad everytime it happens and just cradles your face in his hands and apologizing so rapidly (it never really hurts but you like the attention so)

If you dont know german he will give you a “german word of the day” and will say it to you the entire day in context until you guess what it means

Is so excited when you guess right

Not gonna be into PDA it’s too much for him. He’s just constantly your shadow 24/7 in public. The most is having a hand on your back or shoulder so you don’t get lost in a crowd

In private however. Clingiest boy alive (his other love language is physical touch)

Lives for you laying your head on his lap. Plays with your hair or traces your features while he talks to you about his day or a book he started reading

Has the most expressive eyes in the world

I headcannon him as ginger, his hair slightly shaggy (haircuts give him anxiety so he does it himself when it starts to get in his eyes) and wavy

light freckles on his cheeks and across his nose!!!

With his blue eyes he is truly such a picture of beauty

He isn’t super weird about showing his face to you. When you start hanging out outside of work duties he doesn’t wear it, and appreciates that you dont bring attention to it

Sometimes you make a little comment about him being pretty and his face is on FIRE but he just quietly says thank you and has a little smile on his face

Compliments you shyly but often, will not make eye contact with you when he says it

Writes you super heartfelt notes that he will leave you to find because he can better express himself that way

Don’t get me wrong though he has his moments where he can be very very cocky!!

For example: right after a successful mission when he is still riding the adrenaline rush, he is much touchier with you even in front of others

If you need him to reach something he loves that and gets a little power trip. Teases you and makes you jump to get it from him a bit

If he notices that he made YOU blush, wooo boy he loves to tease you. “Did you like that, hmm?”, with a sickly sweet smile

NSFW BELOW

The first time was extremely soft and slow and sweet. He was very eager but very unsure of himself. Didn’t know where to put his hands. You had to guide him and reassure him and he didn’t last very long but it was sweet

He whimpered the entire time

After that, he slowly gains confidence and learns what works for you two

Still likes for you to be in control mostly, with rare soft dom moments

Will try almost anything once!!

Loves praise. Too insecure for degradation and absolutely can’t degrade you either

Loves to eat pussy sooooo much… You have a bad day? He’s on his knees in the shower with one of you thighs on his shoulder. Its your birthday? He got you like 9 presents but the finale is cumming on his tongue 4 times

He fucking growls sometimes when he’s overstimulated and its the greatest thing to grace your ears

Says “I love you” like a chant when he’s cumming in you

Wants to see your face the whole time

Ironically he is great at making eye contact in the bedroom

He has the sexiest thighs in the world

#konig #konig x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #send me YOUR hcs i would love to hear #könig #könig x reader

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dirtytransmasc · 6 months

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how I think Theon would rank his siblings

Rickon - they're besties. he doesn't know how they became besties or why rickon likes him so much, but they're bff's and nothing will break that bond. is lovingly mean and teases him a lot like the good big brother he is. (there was like a 6 mi the streak where rickon would *not* sleep in his own bed and would only sleep in theon's, again, why this is, he has no clue. he didn't mind after a while. they normally watched a movie until rickon fell asleep and then Theon went about doing shit on his Xbox/computer till he fell asleep)

Arya - sassy little shit. has kicked him in the ribs. also tried to fight one of his shitty ex friends for being a dick. he respects her.

Asha - doesn't see her often. tough love. kinda mean. she's blood though and he loves her and she loves him more than she ever lets on.

Bran - kinda creepy and really stoic, but he likes to be run around in his wheel chair which is fun, and he's fun to watch movies with cause he's really quiet and won't talk like all of their siblings tend to do.

Sansa - air head, brat, mean, likes dumb girl things. (he loves her so dearly and has and would continue to maim anyone who even thinks of touching her. they just have that classic brother/sister dynamic where they "hate each other's guts" for simply existing)

Grey wind - his Bf's dog. best cuddler.

Shaggy dog - second best cuddler. likes to go on hikes on the beach with him (and rickon who runs the whole way through and then needs to be carried back to the car)

Ghost - 10x better than his owner. the goodest boy.

Lady - very polite. the goodest girl. only ranked this low because he 'hates' Sansa.

Summer - chewed one of his shoes once as a puppy. he never forgave that. does let her cuddle up with him when they're watching movies with Bran.

Nymeria - mean to him, except when she wants belly rubs.

dead brother #1

dead brother #2

All of rickon's friends

All of Bran's weird friends

Jon Snow - he's the worst of the worst. the devil himself. he could go die. (he's the closest thing Theon has to an actual friend his age and they claim to hate are constantly doing things together "for convenience" or because they "couldn't find anyone else to go with" or "Robb forced them to get along". they hate smoke and play Xbox together. they've had a shared Minecraft world since they were 8. they've fought to the blood on multiple occasions)

not featured on this list:

Robb - his boyfriend, he's not getting ranked with their siblings that's weird. if he were though he'd take second place, rickon comes first)

Edit: I made this while so sick, tired, and tripped up on cough meds that I have theon 3 dead brothers and it took me a while to realize... oops.

#(as always. don't take me seriously. he is my son and I am woobifying him. this is straying into “he would not say that” territory)#I'm just here for a good time #he's just so silly #Theon and Rickon being besties is my agenda #Jon and Theon being frenemies is my other agenda #throbb #theon greyjoy #jon snow #robb stark #rickon stark #sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #modern au obviously #everythings fine and we're not miserable au obviously #asoiaf

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cranberrymoons · 8 months

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lovers that bless the dark

prompt: fall (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rating: t word count: 734 tags: meet-cute, love at first sight, fluff, and one very cute dog 🍂🥰 title from "autumn in new york" by billie holiday because i am cliché

It happens on a Saturday afternoon in the park, when the air is crisp and the sun is golden and the leaves are swirling on the path underfoot. There’s a saxophone playing in the background and there are kids running through the field to their left, and in front of the fountain, Steve Harrington is meeting the love of his life.

It happens all at once, without anything to tell him it’s happening. Just – a dog breaking free from a leash and a frazzled owner chasing after it and paws crashing into his chest and nearly knocking him back into the cold water from where he sits perched on the stone ledge.

He catches himself with a hand braced on the dog’s back, fingers pushing into shaggy black fur, and he looks up when he hears a shout.

“Sorry!” the man is yelling as he hurries over. He looks exactly like his dog: long dark hair, big brown eyes, slightly flustered and very uncoordinated. “Shit, sorry, he doesn’t normally do that.”

“What, tackle people?” Steve asks, because – honestly.

“Yeah,” the guy says. He laughs, a little awkward, a little apologetic. He reclips the dog’s leash and tugs him out of Steve’s lap. “Or – you know, run away in general.”

Steve looks up from where he’s brushing loose hair and pieces of dried leaves off his jeans.

“This is Ban,” the man says belatedly, nodding at the dog. “He’s also very sorry.”

Steve frowns a little as he reaches down to scratch the top of the dog’s head, and the dog lurches forward eagerly, nose pressing into his knee.

“Hi, Van. You’re forgiven.”

“With a B,” the man says. “Ban. It’s short for Bananarama.”

“You –” Steve laughs, squinting up at the man through the flare of afternoon sunlight. “You named your dog Bananarama? Do you have a cat named George Michael?”

“John Mellencamp, actually,” he says. “I call him Mel.”

And Steve can’t actually tell if the guy’s joking or not, but he’s smiling, big and wide and endearing, and Steve feels something take flight in his chest, warm and soft and comforting as a mug of hot cider.

(This is the falling in love at first sight part, and looking back on it, he’ll know; in the moment, he knows nothing other than wanting to be closer and closer and closer to that feeling.)

“I’m Steve,” he says, and then he dips his head down to pretend he was directing it at the dog. “It’s nice to meet you, Bananarama.”

The man makes a small noise of mock outrage and tugs on Ban’s leash. “I can’t believe you just full-named my dog.”

“Well, he is technically in trouble,” Steve says. He scratches Ban under the chin. “For the jumping and the running away and the almost knocking me into dirty fountain water.”

He watches the guy’s face twitch, eyebrows skating up toward his hairline as he lets out a little laugh, which Steve returns. He realizes belatedly that he’s been smiling through this entire interaction, enough that his face hurts with it a little, and he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip.

“The fountain is clean, actually,” the man says. “We just did a community clean-up day last weekend, so.”

“Oh, well in that case,” Steve says. He tucks the book he’d been reading back into his bag. “I guess I have nothing to complain about. Who wouldn’t want to be knocked into a clean fountain when it’s fifty degrees out.”

“Exactly,” the man says. Then, as if he’s only just remembered – “I’m Eddie. By the way.”

(And this moment, the one where he reaches down to help Steve up, and Steve’s hand slides into his for the first time: this will enter their relationship lore, along with the dog and the book and the fountain and the park itself. It will become one of those things they tell their kids fifteen years from now – he grabbed my hand, and I just knew, just like that . And he does know, sort of: he knows that Eddie’s fingers are calloused, and that makes him curious; he knows that his skin is warm, and that makes him linger; he knows that they fit together, and that makes him want to hold on.)

“Hi, Eddie.” He smiles, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. “Want to buy me a coffee?”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

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huramuna · 3 months

Text

banshee's lament - chapter 5.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a/n: again, a little bit of a slow chapter. shera deserved some happiness and i'm giving it to her, dammit. also i lied, i dropped the chapter on monday oopsies.

wordcount: 4.5k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, my terrible, terrible combat writing

story playlist

Shera’s handwriting, in all accounts, was terrible. It was crude and wispy, all blending together like a child’s scrawl. As she sat at her desk, the ink dripping onto the paper from the length of her pauses, she wondered how to sign it.

Yours,

Shera

No, that was much too personal— she… she wasn’t his.

Best,

Shera Stark

That felt formal and detached. It simply wouldn’t do.

She went through a myriad of different closing statements, wroughting her brain over like wringing out a rag. She even considered not doing it at all.

No, no— she… she wanted to. She needed to try, atleast. Sulking and crying would only do so much for her. She needed to be proactive and offer an olive branch of sorts. She settled on a simple drawing of Moongeist— or mayhaps any wolf, but the point was there. He’d know.

With the note pinned to her cut dress fabric, she snuck from her chambers, flagging down a pageboy.

“Hello,” she murmured to the young lad, who couldn’t be any older than nine or ten. “May I ask a favor of you, ser?”

“Yes ma’am… my lady,” he corrected softly, eyes wondering to Moongeist, who was sitting patiently at Shera’s feet.

“May you take this fabric and note to Prince Aemond’s chambers and leave it upon his desk?”

“The prince doesn’t like people going through his things while he’s not there, miss,” he responded, blue eyes wide. “I do not wish to be flogged.”

Shera blinked slowly. Surely Aemond didn’t have servants flogged for an indiscretion. “Has… Prince Aemond had pageboys flogged before?”

“No, miss— but I delivered him a letter while he was eating his lunch once… he had his eyepatch off on the table and I did not knock,” the young boy looked at his hands. “He said if I didn’t knock next time, he would make me clean up Vhagar’s dung with a wheelbarrow.”

What the fuck, Aemond? Shera stifled a little laugh, trying not to embarrass the boy. “How about this,” she hummed. “Would you like to pet my wolf? He’s a real direwolf, all the way from the North.”

The lad eyed Moongeist with a curious gaze. “My mumma had a shaggy dog with a curly tail when I was young. He licked my face n’ smelled horrible but he was my bestest friend,” he said, bashful. “He died a while ago— no one’s got any more pups for me to pet.”

“He’d love a pet from you, ser,” Shera continued. “Will you deliver this to Prince Aemond’s chambers? If he gets cross with you, tell me and I’ll resolve it and sic my wolf upon him. No harm will befall you.”

Shyly, the boy smiled, offering his hand to the wolf. Moongeist sniffed his hand and licked his palm, causing the boy to giggle.

Shera showed him where Moongeist liked to be scratched the most, and the pageboy was quite pleased with himself when he had the giant wolf thumping his foot on the ground like a puppy at the most perfect of scratches.

He took her note and favor and tottered off.

—

Shera knocked on Helaena’s door. “Hela?” she called softly.

A handmaid opened the door and let her in, wide eyes upon Moongeist.

The solar was lovely, decorated in blue and purple silks upon the ceiling. There were framed pinnings of various bugs upon the walls, some of them being very rare if she remembered correctly.

Upon the floor were strewn children’s toys, like wooden dragons that Helaena had when she was little, along with soldier dolls and princess dolls. Some children’s books were left open, some neatly stacked near the settee.

Shera’s eye landed on Helaena, who was bobbing a toddler on her knee on the couch. A white haired child approached her, his violet eyes wide. He was the spitting image of Aegon as a child.

“Who’s you?” he asked, not afraid to stare— like all children do.

“Shera!” Helaena exclaimed, humming as she hoisted the smaller child onto her hip. “Jaehaerys, this is your auntie Shera.”

“Auntie… Shera…” the little boy echoed. “Is she married to uncle Aemond?”

Helaena’s face blanched slightly. “No, dearest,” she hummed. “She is very close to me, like a sister. Like Jaehaera is your sister.”

“Oh,” he murmured. “She doesn’t have white hair. And she has a dog.”

“He’s a wolf, Jaehaerys,” Shera chimed in. “Has your mumma read to you about direwolves and Winter Kings yet?”

“A woof,” the smallest child chimed in, bouncing happily upon Helaena’s hip. “A woof, a woof!”

“Well, I should introduce the children. You have already met Jaehaerys,” Helaena ruffed up his white curls as he continued to stare at Shera unabashedly. “He has a twin sister, Jaehaera. Who is…” Helaena swirled around. “She is hiding behind the settee,” she whispered, leading Shera to look at the pair of violet eyes peeking over the furniture at her. “And this is my youngest, Maelor. He is two years old. The twins are five.”

“They’re gorgeous Hela,” Shera mused. “Jaehaerys looks just like Aegon, I thought I had stepped into the past when I saw him. Maelor, however,” she added, smiling at the little cherubic face of the youngest prince, who was blushing and giggling, “looks just like his mumma.”

“Come sit, lovey,” Helaena said as she put Maelor down on the floor near the toys. “Lunch should be here soon. You look darling in that shade. You look like a jeweled beetle,” she hummed, offering her hand to Shera, which she took. Hela’s palm was warm, like a toasty fire, but not sweltering. It felt akin to being swaddled with a blanket. “Can I show you some of my bugs?”

“Of course,” Shera agreed, feeling genuinely at ease. The solar was lively and lived in, surely because of the children— it felt… homely and not sterile and lifeless like some others’ chambers.

Off to the far wall, Helaena led her to a bookshelf, carved in draconic designs and various Old Valyrian sigils that she couldn’t quite parse. It was stocked from top to bottom with various books, mostly pertaining to the taxonomy and biology of insects and arachnids— but there were some familiar titles snuck in as well.

‘The Winter Kings of Yore: An Account of the North’.

“Hela— you still have this?” Shera asked, her hand thumbing over the positively ancient book, prising it from the shelf. She remembered this was one of her favorite books as a child and would request Helaena to read it when they bathed.

“Of course! I still have this one, too. ‘Tis Maelor’s favorite.” she pointed to another book, nestled next to the other tome. It was much shorter, but its hard cover was more colorful with streams of blue and purple thread embroidered into a moon and an image of a wolf.

‘Moonpuppy’. It was a children’s book, the only one Shera had brought with her to King’s Landing when she arrived at age five.

“Oh Gods,” Shera breathed, her fingertips skimming over the embroidery. It wasn’t the original binding of the book— the book was well loved into bits, to where the inner pages only remained at one point. Shera and Helaena had worked tirelessly for a whole moon trying to prise it back together. The princess embroidered the cover, trying to make it as close to the original as possible.

Opening the book, she remembered they even made a title page, inked in their silly children’s handwriting.

‘Moonpuppy, edition II. By Helaena Targaryen and Shera Stark.’

Shera wanted to cry. She sniffed, carefully going through the pages. “Helaena, how have you managed to make me cry twice now?”

“Tears of happiness, my little wolf spider,” Hela whispered. “You should read it to Maelor. You were always better at the voices than I.”

“Oh, Hela— I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, heat coming to her ears. “It… hurts to speak for long and I cannot project… what if he cannot hear me?”

“Even at two, he is a very good listener. He is nothing like his father in that regard.”

Shera wiped away her tears and went to sit down. “Maelor, is this your favorite book?”

“Mwoonpubby!” the toddler exclaimed, jumping to attention right away.

“Do you know all the words? It’s been quite a while since I’ve read— I may need help remembering.”

“Mumma reads it every night— can I be the pubby and you be the mwoon?”

The strength of Shera’s smile almost hurt her face. “Of course.”

She began her reading, her fingertips buzzing with elation and a strange sense of anxiety.

Once, long ago, there was a puppy.

He lived in the bitter cold and was very small, but that was okay. He had a large family to keep him warm.

His mumma and papa talked to the moon each night, encouraging him to do the same.

‘I don’t know what to say.’ said the little pup.

‘Whatever is in your heart, dearest. The moon will listen. She will always listen.’ His mumma soothed him, fiddling over his fur with her big tongue.

One day, it was very dark. Usually, at night, they had the light of the moon. But it was gone this night, smothered in fog and clouds.

The little pup whined, trudging in the snow. He was lost! He was lost and he couldn’t find his way back to his mumma.

‘Mumma! Mumma!’ he howled to the sky, to the hidden stars, to the darkened moon. ‘Moon? Moon?’

Shera cleared her throat, feeling the pinch of her nerves creeping up on her. She wanted to finish it— she had to.

There was no answer. He was alone.

He cried and cried for hours, so alone and so cold without his family to warm him. He missed his mumma so badly, he missed the moon.

‘I don’t talk to you much,’ the pup said, muzzle to the sky. ‘I don’t have much to say usually. I am sorry.’

He shuffled his paws as he huddled under a low hanging ledge, out of the snow. It was still wet and he was cold, but it was better than nothing.

He felt cold still, cold in his bones—

A light shined down upon him, finally. The moon had broken through the fog.

Her voice was so hoarse now, that nary a sound came out. Moongeist nuzzled his snout under her hand in a gesture to tell her to take it easy.

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t, her voice catching within the brambles of her inflamed vocal cords.

“S’okay, auntie Shewa,” Maelor said, toddling up onto the couch and snuggling up to Shera without any reservation. “I can finish it, I know all the pawrts. Mumma gets tired too sometimes… so I finish the stowy.”

He could see, he could see. ‘Oh, thank you, thank you!’ he howled and barked and yipped.

‘You should talk to me more, little pup,’ the moon cooed, bathing him in her silver light. ‘My sweet little moonpuppy.’

His pack found him quickly, all piling near him to keep him warm. He snuggled into their furs, looking up at the sky.

The moon was full that night, full and bright.

“Auntie Shewa?”

“Hm?”

“Can I pet your woof?”

Shera looked to Helaena and gave a nod.

“You have to be gentle, like with the bugs.” Helaena stepped in, saving Shera from further talking— to which she was grateful for.

“Uh huh…” Maelor mumbled, dragging his chubby little hand over Moongeist’s fur in a gentle manner so unlike a toddler. “Soft.”

Moongeist licked the boy’s head, cowlicking his white curls into one. He giggled with delight.

–

They all lunched together, Helaena insisting that they sit on the floor and eat with the children. They sat in a circle, the kids having their porridge. They each had different toppings, which felt so much like them.

Jaehaerys had cut up ham atop his, accompanied by a smattering of frizzled onions.

Jaehaera, on the other hand, had pieces of stewed pumpkin atop hers, glazed with cinnamon and maple syrup. It had some roasted pumpkin seeds atop for crunch. She had more of a sweet tooth than her brother, it seemed.

Maelor had a smaller bowl with plain porridge and melted butter– he glanced at Shera’s plate, to which her and Helaena were both eating parboiled quail eggs, dipping their toasted bread in the yolk.

“Mumma– want egg,” Maelor muttered, swirling his spoon in his porridge.

“What kind of egg, darling?” Helaena asked.

“I want what Auntie Shewa has,” he continued. “Dippy egg.”

“Maera,” Helaena called to her handmaiden. “Can you please have the cooks whip up some dippy eggs for Maelor– and mayhaps a bone for Moongeist, too?”

The thumping of a tail was heard as the wolf heard ‘bone’ and ‘Moongeist’ in the same sentence. He stayed near Shera, but also in close proximity to Maelor, who had become quite attached to the wolf very quickly. The toddler offered porridge from his spoon to him, who happily slurped up the food with a wagging tail.

Soon enough, Maelor was devouring his dippy eggs with toast. Helaena leaned forward now, tracing little circles on the plush rug they sat upon. “It was supposed to be different, you know.”

Shera blinked. “What was?”

“I was supposed to be betrothed to Jacaerys– before… Aegon,” she started, eyes glazed over and looking towards somewhere far away, somewhere not completely there. “It might have been nice. I don’t know.”

“... really? You and Jacaerys?” she raised a brow. She couldn’t imagine Alicent ever agreeing to such a thing.

“Mother wasn’t pleased. Father pushed and pushed but mother was stronger and pushed back. It was a flash in the pan, so to speak. I wish I knew where we would be now if she had agreed.”

“You would be upon Dragonstone, Hela– with… Jace’s children, presumably,” Shera cringed inwardly at the thought– that would be her some day.

Helaena wrinkled her nose at the thought, seemingly agreeing with Shera’s sentiment. “For all his faults–” she got up then, tugging Shera to her feet and leading her to the open window. “Aegon is… good with the children. When he is here. I don’t… he isn’t my husband in feeling– but he is my brother. What are we, any of us– but beholden to the mistakes of our families. All of us.”

Shera stayed silent as they sat on the windowsill together, letting Helaena talk. It seemed like something she didn’t talk about much– if ever.

“He got the worst of mother’s rage. It broke something in him. But I think there is something broken in all of us, even mother,” Helaena reached to the trellis, plucking a beetle that was hiding between two folded leaves. “All of her children are cursed in some way,” she lifted her periwinkle gaze to Shera then. “You are one of her children, too.”

“... cursed,” she echoed. Yes, that seems about right.

“Will you survive?” the princess turned the conversation then. “Upon Dragonstone?”

“I don’t know.” she answered truthfully, talking in honesty about the betrothal to someone for the first time. She tried before with Cregan, but he didn’t listen.

“You’ll have to take the reins, you know,” Helaena prattled on, staring at the beetle with her full, rapt attention. It was blue in color, gleaming like a sapphire jewel in the sunlight. “Take them and steer them. You’ll be the only one able to change it– the trees bleed, Shera– cut lip, punctured wood...”

Shera’s brow furrowed further. Helaena was known to descend into her ramblings– but something within her tingled at the words. She didn’t know what they meant, but it made her stomach churn. She felt the whoosh of air from outside the window, a cream colored blur in the edge of her vision. She didn’t hear it, only felt it and saw it, fleeting. It landed upon a spiked point of the keep, across the way from the window– but she couldn’t parse what it was. Shera blinked profusely, bringing her hands to her eyes and rubbing them. When she looked again, it was gone, mayhaps never even there.

“Hold the beetle, Shera,” Hela hummed, offering the jewel colored insect to her. “You remember how to hold them?”

“Gentle,” she responded, voice so quiet that it was hardly even a whisper. The beetle crawled eagerly onto her palm, roving around slowly.

“I need to clean up the children for naptime. Maera,” the princess called, hopping off of the window sill. She walked to the handmaiden, who was a head taller than Helaena. Her dark brown hair was braided in one long wisp, a few errant strands sticking to her forehead. She had tanned skin and dark eyes, with a curved nose. The handmaiden smiled to Helaena and they whispered to one another, clearly very familiar, before they disappeared toward the nursery.

Her surroundings blurred as she kept her attention on the beetle. It seemed so simple, so… calm, despite being in the palm of a would-be predator. The light reflected off of its blue colored carapice, the elytra buzzing ever so slightly. It wanted to stretch, the slight unfold of its wings captivating Shera. She wondered what it was like to fly– she had always refused Jacaerys when he asked her to join him atop Vermax. But if… if she were the one flying, she may not be so scared. Her shoulders rolled in tandem with the beetle, feeling a crack of her bones and the ghostly sensation of her own wings clawing out from them.

The beetle’s antenna wriggled, its little claws digging into her palm, pulling itself along. It wanted to go, it wanted to fly. Leaning towards the window, she saw the great expanse of the sky, littered now with clouds. There was a little breeze now, ruffling the gentle film of the wings as they extended– they looked and felt broken when coming from their sutures, but straightened out quickly. Crawling closer, closer to the breeze, flitting upon it. Hovering now, legs dangling ever expertly. Regarding the indoors one last time– pushing forward into the open air, flight, flight, wisping upon the breeze… was this freedom?

“Shera! Open your eyes!”

The breeze died upon her face as she turned to see Helaena at her side, a few maids behind her looking terrified– Moongeist was whining at her feet.

“Shera?” Helaena whispered now, her periwinkle eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“... yes– um,” she glanced around nervously at the maids, who were now chittering amongst themselves.

“Thank you, ladies– you may go now. I will call the maester myself if Shera falls ill again.”

Ill? She was awake that entire time, she knew it– she was… focusing on the beetle… the beetle…

“Hela– where is the beetle?”

“The beetle…” she breathed, looking over to the table.

Shera looked to see an open lightbox, the beetle was in it. It was seized up, not moving.

“It fell. Its thorax got torn on the windowsill– I will fix it before I pin it,” the princess sighed. “The breeze was too strong.”

“Is it dead?”

“Yes.”

Shera felt cold, a chill creeping at her back. “I should… I should get some rest, I think. M-much excitement for me today, I think.”

Helaena nodded.

–

Shera laid in bed, taking her dinner in her chambers. She felt… utterly exhausted. The day had been tumultuous, even without her… disassociating spell in Helaena’s chambers.

Her fingers roved over a book– it was something that was just left in her room for decoration and no real substance. Her eye strained as she tried to focus on the words. It was already hard enough to read with only one working eye, but with the content of this book being so boring, she couldn’t parse any of it at all.

Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks rapt upon her door.

“I don’t need any tea,” she croaked out, unable to project her voice. She slipped out of her bed, adorned in her nightgown– it was fairly see-through, so she grabbed a blanket and slipped it over her head and body, snugging it close. She hated being caught without her veil on. “Please, come back in the morning.” she muttered as she opened the door, peeking her face out slightly.

“I’m afraid I cannot take no for an answer, Lady Stark,” Aemond hummed, standing before her in all his glory. He wasn’t dressed for bed– she wondered if he wore his riding and sparring leathers to bed, too. “I was tasked with delivering some… reading material to you.”

Shera perked a brow inquisitively. “Reading material?” She hadn’t requested anything specific from the library.

“Can I come in?”

Shera bit her lip. “Yes… I suppose…” she opened the door wider for him to come in as she scrambled to find a veil to wear.

“No need for that. I won’t look if it makes you uncomfortable.” he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. He had two books in his hands as he looked around the room.

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Shera grunted, a bit indignantly. His words from the dinner still echoed in her head. Mayhaps it's a mangled mess under there. She remembered him laughing at her earlier in the day when her veil had slipped slightly. Her cheeks burned as she pulled the blanket taut around her, facing away from him.

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse,” he said flatly, putting the books down on the side table next to the chaise. “But, out of respect, I won’t look.”

She was sure he meant it as a way to soothe her worry, but she couldn’t help but feel tears start to form. Hastily, she wiped them away. “What was so important that this… delivery couldn’t wait until morn?” she glanced at him, her eyes stinging. “And why you?” she added, her punctuation of you a bit more harsh than she intended.

Aemond’s brow knit as he regarded her. He said he wouldn’t look, the liar.

She whipped in the opposite direction quickly.

“Helaena asked me to deliver you this… and I had one to give you as well. Think of it as a betrothal gift.” he muttered, beginning to walk the room as if he wasn’t an intruder. Well, she had invited him in.

Moongeist was snoozing on the bed, belly up. His legs twitched in the air as he whimpered softly from dreaming. Aemond stared at him. “This is your valiant protector? He is sleeping on the job.”

“He deserves rest— you aren’t a threat to me, Aemond. He senses that,” she replied. Not a threat physically, at least. You’re a predator to my mind.

“Hm,” he hummed, walking to the table where she still had two honey walnut cakes sitting out. “You enjoyed them, I take it?”

“What?”

“The cakes. I had a maid bring them to you this morn.”

“Oh– it was you,” she murmured, the tips of her ears flushing under the implication. “... thank you. It… helped.”

“You were… distressed– these always used to cheer you up.”

Shera let out a tentative breath. He had thought of her– and remembered her favorite sweet? And… cared enough to have them brought to her. Maybe… maybe he didn’t loathe her so. “They were… very good,” she continued, letting a smile come to her face. It felt strange to smile around Aemond after so long.

“Yes, the cook who made them still works in the kitchens,” he picked up one, taking a bite. He had liked them as well, but his favorite had always been blueberry scones. “She surprisingly hasn’t kicked the bucket yet– still working away down there, at seventy-five. Mother offered her retirement and a nice hole in the wall shack near the wharf. She refused, adamant to work until she died.” he made a noise of surprise at the taste. “Still good.”

“I’m surprised you remembered, Aemond,” she walked closer then, making sure to snatch the last one off of the plate before he decided to take it, too. She took a bite, the honey sticking to her fingers.

“I remember a lot, Shera,” he pulled out a chair and took a seat. Why was he staying?

Her heart stopped momentarily as he said her name. She buried herself further into the pastry to hide her red cheeks. “Memories are a plague,” she grumbled, pulling up her legs to her chest after she settled into the chair next to him.

“That they are, most of them are. A festering, decrepit reminder of… things best left forgotten. However,” he leaned forward then, his thumb cleaning off a drip of errant honey from the corner of her mouth. “I do remember, you were always a messy eater. Some things don’t change, do they?”

She shivered as he touched her with such… gentleness he hadn’t displayed at all since she’s been back. It was a glimpse into the boy he used to be– he was still there, deep down. She almost choked on the rest of her cake, putting it down on the plate as she quietly licked her fingers, trying to distract herself. “... no, some things don’t change.”

“The book weren’t the only reason I came– Helaena asked me to ask you if you would like to come on a picnic to the Kingswood tomorrow. With Aegon, the children, Helaena and I. She told me that… Maelor required you bring Moongeist.”

Shera stared at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and owlish. The blanket slipped from her head slightly as she leaned forward, snatching the remainder of Aemond’s honey walnut cake from his fingers. “I suppose– as long as there are more cakes,” she hummed, feeling a slightly giddy sensation tingle down her spine as she devoured the rest. “How on earth did you manage to get Aegon to agree?”

“I promised that there would be wine,” he watched, his violet eye roving her face unabashedly as she finished the pilfered sweet.

“And?”

“And… mayhaps I threatened to pay all the brothels off to not service him any longer if he did not attend.”

–

Aemond left soon after, bidding her goodnight in a very stiff and still… somewhat cold in manner. But he was trying– she could see that.

Before tucking back into bed, she looked to see the books he had left for her.

One was the copy of ‘Moonpuppy’ that she had read earlier that day.

The other, the supposed ‘gift’ from Aemond, was a well-worn, well-loved copy of the old folk hero ‘Symeon Star-Eyes’. Upon opening the cover and flitting through the pages, she saw many notes and footnotes on each page– it was Aemond’s handwriting. He had left his thoughts on each page– as she descended through the book, his handwriting changed and evolved. It started off very shaky and tenuous, but as she scanned through the end of the tome, it was confident and sophisticated. He had annotated this copy for years, his handwriting and views on the text changing with each year. Flipping back to the front, she looked at the date.

It was dated five moons after the Driftmark incident. Then, opening the back– it was dated a fortnight ago. He had written, noted, and journaled in this book for ten years.

Why did he give this to her?

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