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aakeysmash · 1 month

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Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Previous part: part 4.

Next part: part 6.

A/N: High School Musical references (watch the movies!!!). I recommend you to read part 1 again, because a lot of references I made here are also said in the first chapter. This could look like a filler chapter, but it’s really important for future developments!

Word count: 2.2k.

You’re relaxing on your bed on a deserved day off, brand new AC on and a cold glass of orange juice in your hand. You’re scrolling on your phone, chuckling at various memes and sending most of them to Ochaco, who will probably complain about finding 62 videos from you and having to react to each one. You’re planning on doing absolutely nothing today, just munching on snacks and sleeping. Maybe you’re going to put on that show you’ve been wanting to see. This is the life, you think.

“FUCK THIS SHIT!”

You’re startled out of your mind, again. Katsuki has been screaming at the top of his lungs since this morning, but you don’t even know the reason why. You hear his stream of curses from the wall between your rooms.

You’re very annoyed: he’s ruining your perfect day off. How dare he. You throw punches on the wall for the upteenth time, hoping he will stop or go outside to do whatever is bugging him.

“Stop fucking doing that!” He screams back at you, and you get even angrier. You decide you had enough, so you get up from your bed and march towards his room. You throw his door open without caring about his privacy.

He snaps his head towards you, scowling worser than usual.

“D’you ever heard about fucking knocking?” He barks at you. He looks disheveled: his usually spiky hair is a mess, and you assume he keeps on yanking it; you can feel his eye bags, and he probably didn’t have a good night of sleep in two weeks.

“Damn, you look bad” you mumble looking at him from head to toe. You lose a bit of your anger and almost feel bad. Almost.

“Well, I don’t care, you’re ruining my perfect day, so if you need to scream go out” you say glaring at him.

“This is my fucking house too” he snarls. “If I want to scream because I don’t want to do this shit, then I’m gonna do it. You’re free to leave and never return” he responds looking you up and down. He’s got a point.

You scoff. Sometimes he really has the audacity to speak when he shouldn’t be speaking. “What are you even doing? What’s this big thing that’s bothering you so much?”.

He grits his teeth and stays silent. The way he doesn’t want you to know the reason why he’s so angry just makes you become more curious. Oh, I’m about to get so annoying when I find out. Just so you wait, Katsuki.

“Come on, don’t be a kid. Let’s make a deal: I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate if you tell me” you try to bribe him. In one of his nicest moments, he complimented the way you know how to “make it just right”, just to take it back immediately after noticing those words left his mouth. Also, your roommate likes to eat and drink hot things even if it’s summer. He’s a weirdo.

He looks conflicted. He really wants a sweet treat, and he knows that he’s not capable of doing it the way you do (he already tried and failed). He blames it on the fact you keep on saying that you add a secret ingredient that he doesn’t know, because there’s just no way he’s not good at doing everything he puts his mind into. He ponders about it for what feels like 3 minutes, where you both stay completely silent.

“I’ll even add whipping cream.”

You try suppressing your grin: he’s sold, you see it in the way he grits his teeth even harder. “I’m revising my thesis’ grammar.”

You instantly become smug, all your anger forgotten. Bingo. “The big buff Bakugou Katsuki is mad about some grammar? Really? I thought you were stronger than that, pussy” you tease him with a smirk on your face.

He tries throwing you one of the books he keeps on his desk, but you dodge it. Then you lean on his door and cross your arms, while he goes on and screams “GET OUT! You’re bothering me even more”.

“Stop screaming, oh my god”, you whine. “What would it take for you to return being the quiet kid at the back of the class? You’re so annoying like this” you say exhausted. You get one day off in 3 weeks, there is no way he’s ruining it. You’re finding joy in annoying him, though, it’s so fun.

“I was never the quiet kid, I ain’t no loser like you. Get the fuck out of my room” he bites back. He doesn’t need to know it, but you were indeed the quiet kid.

“Well, guess I won’t help you then” you reply, shrugging. You didn’t even ask if he wanted your help, and you didn’t come in his room to help him, but now you’re just rubbing in his face that you can go and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, while he boils himself away in his despair.

You start closing his door, yawning and teasing him some more. “Continue screaming while I go and watch Love Island without you”. You have to turn around to hide your expression.

You hear him curse under his breath. “Fuck, wait, I really wanna see that”, he says, sounding desperate. “Aren’t you enrolled in literature or some shit?”.

You face him with the biggest devious smile you can muster. “Yeah, why?”

The vein on his forehead is about to pop. “How good are you at correcting grammar?”, he says.

You look like you won the lottery. “Ooooh you want my help? Do you want me to revise your little thesis for you? Little ol’ me? Weren’t you saying to get the fuck out?” You say walking towards his still sitting form. He’s super rigid, like asking you to help him is requiring him all the strength of the world and the planets and the solar system together. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He tries the breathing exercises they taught him in highschool to manage his fury, when he really started managing his anger issues. You’re getting on his last nerves, but revising all he wrote in months is also getting on his nerves.

“Can you at least pretend to not enjoy this as much as you currently are? You’re a devil” he spits out. Well, he could’ve said something meaner, so the breathing exercises must have worked a little.

“Mean. I guess you don’t want my help then”, you respond, feigning innocence.

“Let’s make one thing clear: I’m a boss at doing shit like this. I’m just tired of doing it, ‘cause I’ve been at it for a day straight. I’m good at everything, so you’ll probably find a comma that I forgot to type, not much more than that”, he adds, glaring up at you. You’re now standing next to him, but the fact he’s still sitting has you staring at him from above. This simple act is driving him insane: if he’s not in control he gets antsy, and you seem to know it, because you’re standing really proud.

You decide on dropping the facade a little, because you enjoy revising things. And he does look exhausted.

“Sure, send me the file and I’ll look into it” you say. Now you’re going outside of his room to make his chocolate, but he thinks you’re just running away.

“Wait. What do you want in return?” He says squinting at you. There’s no way she’s doing it because she’s nice, he thinks.

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Don’t fucking “huh” me. What do you want? Why are you doing this?” He responds, serious.

You raise one eyebrow and stay silent for a bit, then you tell him “Because I’m nice? Have you ever heard about kindness? Not everything is a transaction, business man” then you close his door without waiting for an answer, leaving him confused and somewhat angry.

You start doing his hot chocolate while singing to yourself, when suddenly his door is thrown open and he exits it, staring at you.

“Tell me what you want” he says coming closer to you and crossing his arms. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You look at him and respond “Tell me what you neeeed”, singing.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“High School Musical? That one scene in the second film where they all sing in the kitchen? Really?” You ask, and he looks confused.

“I’ve never seen those films. They look pathetic.” He responds, rolling his eyes and looking at you putting whipping cream on his hot chocolate. You look shocked, and you hang your mouth open.

“You’ve never seen High School Musical?!” You almost scream.

He winces, rubs his ears and then proceeds to say “What’s so weird about it? It’s not like it’s a cult or something”.

“Yes! Yes it is! You know what? We’re going to watch it right now. And you can’t refuse, or I won’t revise your thesis” you tell him while poking him in the chest. Soft.

He kisses his teeth, huffs and goes to sit himself on the couch.

“I knew you weren’t doing it for free, manipulator” he glares at you.

You shrug, while putting his cup in front of him and bringing him some cookies. He mumbles a thanks, relaxing.

“I was going to help you regardless, but if I can make you suffer it’s funnier” you tell him, positioning yourself next to him and stealing one of the biscuits you brought for him.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“A bitch who’s going to do your work, so shut up and watch people fall in love in highschool” you bite back. You both roll your eyes.

Neither to say, he hates the movies with a passion. He thinks that high school is portrayed poorly, that Gabriella is the real villain, that they’re all pretentious bitches, that Troy should’ve went away because none of them were truly his friends since they weren’t supporting him.

You keep on huffing while he tells you all these “that”s.

“Katsuki, it’s not like it’s reality. It’s a musical. Just focus on the songs and the love, damn” you whine while throwing a punch at his bicep. He doesn’t budge and your hand hurts.

“That’s not my definition of love” he simply states.

“Yeah? And what’s your definition of love?” You ask him, curious.

He raises one of his eyebrows. “Why would I share something like that with you?”.

“Because I’m doing your work. And we’re friends. Sort of. And you like my chocolate” you respond, while blushing a little. You know you tend to be a little too curious and nosey, but it’s just because you pay a lot of attention to details. Details are everything to you. You’re quick to backtrack seeing his hostile behaviour towards this topic, and you start saying that it’s not a big deal and you should’ve minded your business, when he interrupts you.

“And what is your definition of love?”

He looks relaxed, like asking this isn’t that bothersome. Like he wants you to know you too. Like he cares, in some way.

“Love is a lot of things for me” you resort to say. Just how much can you be specific without scaring him away?

“Yeah, you’re waiting for me to talk about it first. I get it, dumbass. I’m not very good with words on this aspect though, so I’m sorry, but your curiosity won’t be quelled” he responds, rolling his eyes. From the start of this conversation he hasn’t stopped breathing normally, almost as if this is a regular conversation for him. He hasn’t stopped looking at you, too, but you’re trying to ignore that.

“Then let’s make a deal. Saturday we’re picking a thing that we think helps us explain what we think about love” you burst out. He’s about to protest, but you’re not finished.

“Love as in general love! Love can be outside of romantic relationships too, so let’s settle on love between friends! I’d never go out with you like that” you add. You jump out of the couch. You feel like you might catch on fire if you stay near him one more second. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like you’re something he wants to dissect.

“Okay” he simply responds. You’re dumbfounded.

“Really? You’re okay with this? I thought you were going to say no” You say.

“Yeah, but let’s say that we can both decide on either going out or staying in. This is not a date, you said it yourself, so I don’t see a problem with it. It will just be like one of our movie nights, it’s not like we never spend time together, dumbass” he says, getting up and stretching his hand towards you.

“So? Are you in? Or are you scared of doing something much less meaningful than me?” He tells you, smirking.

You glare at him and compose yourself. Then, you stretch his hand.

“Deal.”

Taglist:

@perfectsukii @sleepykittycx @what-the-jams @bakunianadecorazon @vensunzy @eyesforbkg @bffrrufr @imas1mpp @cold-deep-water @peonies-and-teacakes @berryvioo

I couldn’t tag the ones in pink :(

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #and they were roommates #bakugo fluff #barista au

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sissylittlefeather · 4 months

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How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 7

A/N: PHEW this is a tough series to write, folks. But I promise if you hang on to the end, you won't be disappointed. This is another chapter in my time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader. I hope you all like this chapter. Please don't give up on us. It's gonna get so gooooood.

Need to catch up? Here's my masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, angsttttttt

Word count: ~2.5k

Will he ever see you again?

******

You sit in your bed staring at your left hand and the diamond ring nestled there on your finger. Jeff is asleep next to you snoring quietly. You knew the proposal was coming, since you've been together for almost a year and a half, but now that the ring is on your finger there's only one thought in your head: you have to tell Elvis.

Even though you ended on difficult terms, you feel like you owe it to him to let him know that you're okay and that you can live the rest of your life without him. You know he can and will live the rest of his without you. You're not sure why, but a single tear escapes and slides down your cheek. You haven't seen him in 2 years and pushing him through the portal was the hardest thing you'd ever done. Would he even want to see you? How on earth would you make a portal to get back if he hates you?

Still, you have to risk it. Something is telling you that you need to let him know. Whatever the thing is that binds you together is screaming at you to try to find him. You pull your phone out and start doing research to figure out where he is in the spring of '62. He's filming Girls Girls Girls.

"You okay, baby?" Jeff rolls over and notices that you're awake.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. I just... I need to go to Hawaii."

"Hawaii?!"

"Yeah. Just trust me. I'll be back in a couple days."

"Whatever you say, babe." He rolls over and goes back to sleep.

There's a distinct squeezing feeling in your chest and you hate to admit it, but you miss Elvis.

******

Elvis gets back to his hotel room at the Hawaiian Village in Oahu after a long day of filming and lays on his bed fully clothed. Out of nowhere, you enter his mind. He's tried so hard not to think about you over the past two years, but when he's especially tired, he just can't help it. The same old wondering about whether he'll ever see you again hits him and he wants to cry. After the way you literally shoved him away last time, though, he's pretty sure you won't come looking for him again. Still, he says a quick prayer that you're okay, wherever you are, and squeezes his eyes shut so that the tears that have gathered there slide down the side of his face into his hair. For the first time in a while, he lets himself miss you.

******

On the plane, you nervously fidget with the new ring on your finger. You think about the last two years, about graduation, starting to date Jeff, getting your job, and everything else that's happened. The six months after you forced Elvis to leave were a dark time for you. And then there was Jeff. You'd met him that same night, but you didn't expect him to come crashing back into your life like he did. He dragged you out of your depression and made you go to counseling. He helped you cut back on your drinking and really actually saved your life. You don't feel about him the way you felt, or feel, about Elvis, but you love him. He's a good man and he'll be a good husband.

But he's not Elvis. And your stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him again.

******

Another day of shooting is over and Elvis falls back onto his bed again. For some reason, he's thinking about you again and he's starting to get annoyed with himself for not being able to focus on what he's actually doing. Why are you back in his mind? He shakes his head and goes to take a shower.

When he steps out, towel around his waist, his jaw damn near hits the floor. The old familiar buzzing sound is there, complete with the wavy air.

******

You step through the portal and it closes behind you with a pop.

"Hi Elvis." He stands there unable to speak. A lump has formed in his throat and he's not sure whether he should kiss you or yell at you.

"What are you doing here?" He finally gets out.

"I-I... it's a long story." The tension in the room is so thick you'd need a hell of a knife to cut through it. He walks past you to the bed and sits down on the edge of it in an effort to keep himself from passing out.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"I know. Do you hate me?" You ask tentatively, not sure you're ready for the answer. He's dying to run to you and wrap his arms around you, to feel your skin against his and press his lips to you finally after all this time. But he doesn't.

"I wouldn't say hate."

"But you're not happy to see me."

"How many times am I supposed to let you hurt me before I can stop being happy to see you?" His words cut through you like a laser and you feel the tears well up in your eyes. He's not wrong. You have hurt him pretty badly twice now. You look down at your feet to hide the tears that are now sliding down your cheeks. All you can do is whisper.

"I'm sorry."

He can tell you're crying and it breaks his heart. He knows it wasn't easy to push him away like you did, especially with the state you were in without him. After a few more minutes, he can't stand it anymore.

He stands up and takes three steps to you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly. You cry into his chest and he strokes your hair soothingly.

But you're not just crying because you've hurt him in the past. You're crying because you know you're about to do it again. For a wild second you consider just staying with him in 1962. To hell with not changing the past and with your own future. You want him. But you can't. He matters too much. You can't take that away from him or from the world.

"Now, honey, why don't you tell me why you're here?" He backs up and takes both of your hands in his. That's when he notices your ring. "What the hell is this?"

You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a second before you answer him.

"It's the reason I'm here, Elvis."

"Y/n, did you get married?"

"Not yet. But I'm going to." He stumbles backwards away from you and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Who is he?" You sit down next to him and he gets up and walks away. He goes to the closet and pulls out a pair of pants, putting them on a little more aggressively than necessary.

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't. I need to know who's taking my woman."

"Elvis. Seriously? Do you think I don't know about Anita? And Sandy? And Priscilla?" He stops and it's like someone has dumped ice water down his spine.

"Y-y-you know about them?"

"I know about all of them. And I know who you will marry and it's not me. Did you think I was gonna sit around in my time pining over you while you lived your life?" He pulls a shirt over his head and sits down next to you on the bed. He turns and looks at you with a sad look in his eyes.

"No. I don't know what I thought. I guess I just hoped... but no, you're right. You should be happy in your time. Do you love him?" You manage a weak half-smile.

"He's good to me."

"That doesn't answer my question. Because I couldn't let you go to anyone that you don't-"

"I love him." You want to tell him that you don't love Jeff the way you love him, but what purpose would that serve?

"So I guess this is it, then?" You look into his eyes and try to keep yourself from crying again.

"I guess it is. Will you kiss me one more time. Like you mean it?"

"Honey, I do mean it." He leans in and kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing against yours tenderly.

"Make love to me like you mean it."

His hands roam over your body and he kisses down your neck.

"I mean it more than anything. Honey, if this is really the last time, I'm gonna make it count."

He lays you down on the bed and kisses the skin he can reach on your chest. Then he runs his hand under your shirt and lifts it over your head. He undoes your bra in one try and throws it to the side.

"You're so beautiful. I love your body. I just need to say that." He kisses down your chest and licks and sucks each of your nipples. He kisses back up to your mouth and groans into your mouth. His hand makes it way down to your center underneath your pants. But he stops before his fingers slide inside you.

"Would he... can I?"

"I want you to. Please." He nods and pushes his fingers into you. You moan and throw your head back in pleasure. No one will ever be able to bring you such pleasure with just his hand. He kisses your mouth deeply.

"We need to send you home. We need a portal."

"And I want you one last time."

"One last time."

You choke back tears as he moves his mouth from your neck down to your center. He pulls your pants down and off and kisses the inside of your thighs. His tongue moves up to your core and he licks over and around your clit skillfully.

"God, yes, I need it one more time."

"One more time, baby." He whispers into you as he continues to lick your clit. You feel the coil of your orgasm tighten in your lower stomach as he works between your legs.

"Yes, baby, please." You moan, running your fingers through his hair. Nothing Jeff does turns you on like Elvis does.

"Come for me honey. One last time." It doesn't take much more for you to slide over the edge into oblivion with his tongue moving on you as the electricity runs through you from your core to the tips of your fingers.

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly as he moves up your body, unbuttoning his pants to line himself up with your entrance.

"Hey. Is this what you want?" He kisses your cheek and waits for your answer before moving.

"Yes. Yes, god, I want it more than anything."

"Then look at me." You open your eyes and meet his deep blue ones in anticipation. He puts a hand on your cheek. "I will always love you. But I understand. I know we can only have this moment and nothing more. I don't love you any less because of it."

"Oh, Elvis." He presses his forehead to yours and then pushes into you slowly.

"Tell me you love me."

"God, you know I do."

"Say it anyway, so I have something to remember forever."

"I love you with all of me. Always and forever." He moves inside you, picking up speed with each thrust.

"That's my girl." He moves faster and faster, moving closer and closer to the end. Neither of you wants it to be over, but you both know you have lives waiting for you on the other side.

You wrap your legs around him in the hope that you can keep him closer for even just a moment longer. He grunts with the change in sensation and lays his head on your shoulder as he fucks you.

"I don't want you to leave me."

"I don't want to leave you." He captures your lips in a deep kiss and continues pushing toward the end. His cock slides in and out of you rhythmically and you want to cry with the intensity of your passion. Finally, he shudders and you feel his warmth fill you. His shoulders shake with the depth of his affection for you and you hold him close as you both weep. It's not long before you hear the buzzing sound and you have the insane urge to stay again.

You push his head up off of your shoulder and run your fingers through his hair.

"What if I stayed?" He pops his head up and looks at you.

"You know you can't. He's waiting for you." You sob openly. He's right. Your fiancé is waiting for you and his life is waiting for him. He holds you tightly as you cry for another couple of minutes. Then he kisses your forehead.

"You have to go, honey." You nod and slide out of the bed. You slowly gather your clothing and dress enough to get back through the portal. He stands up and pulls you to him one last time. "I will always love you. I hope he makes you as happy as you deserve to be."

"I love you, Elvis."

"I know, honey. I know." You grab his hand and kiss his fingers one last time. Then, you walk through the portal away from him toward your future. He watches you walk through and decides it's time to move Priscilla to Graceland and move on with his life.

******

It's 1966 and Elvis is knee deep in filming another stupid movie that the Colonel signed him to. He's ready to walk off the set and never come back to Hollywood. His whole career is a farce and his life feels like a joke. He finds a bathroom and is just about to seek some quiet time inside when he hears it.

The buzzing sound.

He looks to his left and sees the wavy air. It's been 4 long years and so much has changed. Why would a portal appear now? He was pretty sure that when he saw you in '62 it was the last time he'd ever see you. Still, the portal is undeniable. It tempts him with the possibility of seeing you and getting a break from his tedious and impossibly irritating schedule of filming. Even if it is a mistake, who cares at this point? Anything is better than the mind-numbing movies and soul-crushing reality of his current life.

He walks through the portal cautiously. When he does, he's shocked to find you on the floor. You have your knees folded and your whole body is shaking as you sob.

What the hell has happened to you in the 4 years since he's seen you?

******

Until chapter 8!

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Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #how the web was woven

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luckbealincoln · 10 months

Note

HIiii I absolutely love BKS! I have been here since day 1 and have fallen in love with it more and more. May I request 62 & 253 please? Basically possessive Din with some degradation

A Little Attention

pairing : din djarin x f!reader

word count : 2.3k

summary : the mandalorian returns from a hunt rather stressed, you know just how to help him out

warnings, etc : smut, established relationship, din djarin consent king, porn with a mere spoonful of plot, dom/sub, dom!din, sub!reader, safe words, sort of pet play??, din calls reader puppy, choking, degradation, humiliation, but also praise, rough rough rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, use of a belt, makeshift leash, creampie

a/n : i am so so sorry it's taking me so long to get through requests lmao i'm gonna set myself a reasonably goal of one per week and try and stick with that. i hope you enjoy!! this is uhhhh maybe the rowdiest fic i've written so far but also like i loved this request and i had so much fun writing this <3 now it's time for me to sleep so i hope y'all enjoy and have a good night!!

He’s in a mood when he comes back with the bounty.

He’s always in a mood when it takes more than a week. If the bounties alive they don’t make it known, they aren’t moving when he throws them into the carbonite. Walking in silence as he closes the doors to the Crest before storming off towards the ladder to the cockpit. He doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest as he stomps right past you.

You know Grogu’s in his pod up there napping, thankfully Mando notices and quiets his stomping as you feel the ships engine kick on almost immediately, the familiar hum fills the hull as you continue your knitting.

If he wants to be grumpy, you’ll let him be grumpy.

When he returns he still doesn’t address you as he slams his weapons down, he doesn’t clean any of his blasters as he hangs them up. He carelessly tosses the several belts he wears to the floor. Once he seems satisfied with his little tantrum he looks down to where you’re sitting on the ground. You continue your work on the sweater you’re making for the little green monster.

“How long has he been asleep?” He snaps at you which obviously has you frowning. That’s the first thing he says after eight moons apart?

“I missed you too.” You mumble before setting your needles into the basket where you keep your yarns.

“Don’t do that, I hate it when you do that.”

“So you're the only one who’s allowed to be angry?” You start to stand, leaning against the wall of the ship as you glare at him.

“I had a long week.” He sounds strained but you have no problem pushing his buttons. You know exactly what to do to get out of this mood. He needs to let off some steam. And he won’t do it unless you get him riled up, it’s just how this goes, once he gets all his pent up aggression out he’ll be back to the Mandalorian you know and love. Although you certainly don’t mind dealing with this side of him for now.

“So did I. You act like watching the kid isn’t hard. He gets bored after just a few days stuck on the ship and then he starts throwing things around with the magic and it’s all a mess.” You cross your arms as you continue frowning at him. He’s already clenching and unclenching his fist. Good.

“I didn’t say-.”

“And then you come back and you act like I’m not even here, like I’m nothing more than a pet to you, to look after when you feel like it and ignore otherwise.” You go to push past you but a gloved hand shoves you back against the ship's wall by the throat. All the air is shoved out of your lungs and his grip loosens the second you’re pinned in place.

There it is.

“Color?” His voice has softened around the edges just the tiniest bit.

You can’t help but grin at him.

“Green.” The moment you say it his grip tightens again. Your hands come up to claw at his wrist a bit as you gasp. He moves closer until your nose is poking against Beskar.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you so desperate for my attention that you have to act like a brat the second I return? Maybe you are my pet, you’d probably like it if I kept you as a pet, wouldn’t you?” You’re having a hard time focusing on his words as your vision starts to get blurry around the edges, the natural panic caused by lack of oxygen taking over as you claw more desperately at his wrist. When he releases you, you slump to the floor, he doesn’t give you more than a few seconds to catch your breath before you watch his gloves hit the ground next to you and his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, yanking, your face flushes. “I expect an answer.”

Fuck, what was the question? Kriff you can’t focus on much as you nod, hoping that’s the answer he wants but you feel another sharp tug.

“Words.” He forces you to stare up at him.

“Fuck, yes, sorry.” He seems pleased enough as he drops you back to the floor.

“Tell me your colors, pet.” He picks up one of his belts, one without any attachments, holding the brown leather strap in his hands. You sit on your ankles as you watch him fold it in half, smacking it against his palm gently before turning back to face you.

Stars, that tone. When he wants to be in charge there’s no arguing with that deadly serious tone. That’s the sharp tongue of a killer.

“Green means good, yellow means slow, red means stop.” He drags the bend of the belt across your jaw before withdrawing it so quickly you flinch.

“Good. Now, on all fours, like a good puppy.” His voice remains dominant but now there’s a hint of mockery as you obey. Getting on your hands and knees in front of him. He drags the belt across the length of your dress ridiculously slowly, by the time he reaches your ass you're trembling.

He crouches down next to you.

“Scared puppy?” There’s no concern in his tone as he says it.

Not at all.

If anything you’re shaking in anticipation of what’s to come. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of a yes.

“No.” You make sure he sees your smirk but any smugness in your expression is lost when he swings the belt down, a loud snap echos through the hull as it hits your rear. You lurch forward. mouth opening in a silent scream.

He hums. Happy with your reaction as his free hand reaches down to lift your skirt up, bunching the fabric up on your hips so he can admire the faint red mark already blooming on your ass.

“How many do you think you’ve earned, pet?” He traces the mark with his fingertips and you instinctively crawl forward a little bit, he grabs the meat of your ass, squeezing, his nails leaving little crescents in your skin. “Stay still. Don’t make me put you on a leash.”

That certainly isn’t as much of a threat as he makes it seem.

He of course realizes exactly what you're thinking and his hand slips under the fabric of your underwear, his digits slide through the pool of wetness forming and he laughs as he pulls them away to hold them in front of your face.

“Is that what you want? A leash?” He brings his fingers to your lips in silent instruction for you to clean them, which you do. Tasting yourself as you lick them clean. “Well, pets don’t just get treats. You have to earn it.” You do your best not to flinch as you feel the belt rest against the skin of your thighs. “How about ten? You take the belt ten times and I'll put you on a leash?”

It’s a humiliating deal.

You both know that.

But the first hit felt so good. And you crave more of the sting that lingers afterwards.

Besides, you’ve let him do worse to you and he’s let you do worse to him and you’ve always enjoyed it so you nod. He removes his fingers from your mouth and ruffles your hair.

“Good girl.”

It’s all worth it to hear those words.

He kneels next to you, one hand on your chest to keep you from falling forward, the other raises the belt again. You hear the crack before you feel the sting. A small yelp leaving your mouth. He gives you no recovery time as he brings it down again. Alternating between the backs of your thighs and your ass.

After seven he’s holding you up with his free hand. Tears stream down your face and you’ve completely soaked through your panties. He sets the belt down and rubs the welts that are forming, trying to soothe a bit of the pain as you whimper.

“Color?” He asks as he continues to rub circles against your swollen skin.

“Green.” You murmur as you drop your head so you're staring at the floor.

“Good girl.” You hear him pick the belt up again and he’s quick with it, he’s never been one to prolong this sort of thing longer than necessary. He brings the belt down three more times in quick succession, one slap on each thigh and one on your ass. You whine, your back arching slightly as your torso drops to the floor.

As you wipe away the tears falling down your face he begins to gently wrap the belt around your neck, notching it like a collar around your throat so it doesn’t choke you unless he pulls on it. He moves to kneel between your legs as he pulls the belt to bring you back up on your hands. His free hand pulls your panties down to your knees as he kneads the flesh of your ass. Helping to ease the pain that demands your attention.

“Color?” He asks one more time as you sniffle, composing yourself.

You certainly haven’t come this far not to get fucked.

“Green.” When you say it he gently pats your ass.

“You’ve been such a good girl. Such an obedient little pet. Do you want my mouth or my cock?” He continues kneading your ass and you answer immediately, you’re too worked up to not have him inside you right now.

“Cock, please.” His hand leaves your rear and you hear the zippers of his flight suit followed by the head of his cock swiping through your folds.

You’re practically drooling in anticipation but you never feel the stretch, instead he tugs on the belt, you choke a bit and lean back instinctively, impaling yourself on his length. You groan as he sinks just the tip into your dripping cunt.

“Come on. Take it all on your own like a good little pet.” He growls out and you know exactly what he wants. He’s presented this as a reward but you know he expects you to take it yourself.

Which you happily do.

Thankfully he lets you take your time. His hand grips the makeshift leash but he doesn’t rush you as you push your hips back against his. Whining as you rock back and forth, without any prep and over a week without him you aren’t anywhere near ready for him. But his gasps and whispered praises are enough to urge you on as you slowly fuck yourself on his cock.

“Such a good girl. Kriff. Good girl, taking her reward, look so pretty on my cock, does that feel good?” Even through his groans he manages to sound condescending.

“S’good Mando.” Your hips stutter all the back, fully taking him with a yelp and he finally tugs on the leash again.

“What do you say?” He pulls you back completely so you’re flush against his chest, he drops the belt and wraps his arms around your torso to hold you against him. Pushing himself deeper into you.

“T-thank you.”

“Good girl. Take your reward.” You can hear his shit eating grin but you eagerly comply, starting to rock yourself up and down against him. His hand trails down your stomach pressing against you roughly, like he’s trying to feel himself inside of you.

It’s harder in this position but you still manage to ride him, the hand on your stomach moves down to find your clit, there’s nothing gentle about his motions, he’s trying to force your climax out of you as quickly as possible. His fingers draw angry circles over the pearl between your legs making you keen.

Your thrusts are weak, you’re barely getting an inch off of him as you squirm in his arms. But he must be just as pent up as you are because you recognize the grunts behind the helmet, he’s already close, his own hips starting to rut up into you.

“Come on, cum on my cock, show me how good you can be for me.” He groans, pinching your clit sending a jolt through your entire body. Everything tenses up as you clamp down on him, your vision goes dark for a moment as your cunt strangles his cock. The only thing keeping you upright is his hands and after a few messy thrusts you feel him finish inside you.

He holds you against him for a little while, at least until you catch your breath. He hisses as he pulls out of you before his hands find the belt, releasing the clasp and tossing it aside, quickly lifting you up into his arms.

“Thank you.” He mumbles as he pulls your panties back up your hips. Walking you towards the sleeping cubby.

“For what?” You rest your head on his chest as he sits you down on the edge of your shared sleeping mattress.

“For doing that. I’m not an idiot, I know that was for my benefit.” His hands run through your hair, combing through the tangles that he put there. You grin at him.

“Well it’s not entirely for your benefit, you’re in a better mood thanks to me so everyone’s happy.” He hums in response, carefully laying you down onto the bed.

“I’m gonna go check on the kid, make sure we didn’t wake him.” He stands and you pull a blanket up over you, exhausted. Before he leaves he gives your leg a loving squeeze. “Next time you can put the leash on me if I act like that.” He laughs and you hear him climbing the rungs of the ladder.

He sounded like he was joking but you can’t help but smile.

Maybe next time you will.

#din djarin/reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #luckbealincoln #mandalorian smut

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zeciex · 3 months

Text

A Vow of Blood - 62

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 62: Waves

AO3 - Masterlist

The early morning was imbued with a crisp chill, the air holding onto the remnants of the night’s cold. Daenera, with a gentle but firm touch, lifted young Aegon from the dew slick stones. Inside, Lady Elinda welcomed the boy into her arms, embracing him as they disappeared into the comfort offered by the litter’s interior.

Through the open door, the soft, muffled cries of Viserys seeped out, his young voice tinged with the unmistakable disapproval of being roused too early. Daenera caught a glimpse of Aegon, his youthful face momentarily contorted into a sympathetic grimace at the sound of his brother’s displeasure. Leaning forward with a brotherly instinct, Aegon reached out to gently pat Viserys’ red cheek, his small hand offering a tender gesture of comfort to the squirming boy nestled in Sheran’s lap.

“Shh,” Aegon soothed, smiling gently at Viserys.

The younger boy began to quiet.

Nearby, Joffrey halted momentarily at the steps of the litter. He turned his bright, inquisitive eyes towards Daenera, his voice weaving threads of curiosity and hope. “Do you think Tyraxes has grown big enough to ride since we left?”

Daenera looked down at him, her lips curving into a light, amused smile, reflecting the soft morning light. “Perhaps a little, though I doubt it’s enough for you to notice. After all, it’s barely been a fortnight since you left.”

Joffrey’s eyes danced with the spark of excitement, “Daemon promised I could feed Tyraxes a goat one we return!”

Daemon, standing by the second litter, his posture commanding as he talked with his daughters, chimed in with a note of caution. “If the Dragonkeepers deem you ready.”

Daenera’s smile widened with encouragement as she inclined her head towards Joffrey. “I have no doubt the Dragonkeepers will grant you the chance to feed Tyraxes.”

Joffrey, excited by the prospect, stepped fully into the litter where Luke was already seated, helping him find a comfortable spot to settle for the journey to the docks.

At that moment, a soft utterance of her name captured Daenera’s attention. She turned gracefully, her gaze meeting that of her mother. Rhaenyra’s expression was adorned with a gentle, motherly smile.

“Could you please find your brother for me?” Rhaenyra asked, a subtle note of concern lacing her words. “Jace has forgotten his cloak and has gone to retrieve it, I fear he might have gotten into trouble.”

“Jace is properly still looking for it,” Daenera reassured her mother, hoping to alleviate her concerns. “How much trouble can he get into?”

“Please find him, and tell him that if he doesn’t hurry, we might just leave without him.” The playful cadence of her voice clearly indicated she wasn’t serious about the threat.

“Oh, there’s no way you’re leaving him here with me! I’ll find him and I’ll bring him back by his ear if I have to,” Daenera declared. As she spoke, she gathered the rich fabric of her gown, redying herself to ascend the steps of Maegor’s Holdfast.

The early morning was a hive of activity around her; the castle grounds teemed with people engaged in various morning rituals, while others meandered in a daze, still caught in the clutches of sleep. Amidst this bustling backdrop, Daenera navigated through the inner courtyard, her stride purposeful as she headed towards the grand staircase.

As Daenera commenced her ascent of the grand staircase, her gaze inadvertently caught the sight of her brother, his posture taut with tension. His shoulders were hunched, elevated by deep scowl directed at the silver haired, one-eyed menace, who stood leisurely, hands folded behind his back. She could already imagine the provocative smirk on his lips. Her brother loomed over Aemond, his height advantage evident only due to his elevated position–up two steps from the level on which Aemond stood. His hands, clenched into tight fists, hung by his sides, his jaw set in a firm, unyielding line, betraying his simmering frustration.

A surge of apprehension unfurled within Daenera’s chest, propelling her feet to quicking their pace up the stairs. The tension between the two was palpable, and she felt an urgent need to intervene before the situation escalated. With each step, her concern grew, her mind racing to find a way to defuse the brewing conflict and avert the likely outfall of a war.

Daenera arrived just in time to catch the tail end of Aemond’s sentence, his words trailing off as she approached, “...Ask your sister.”

Jace’s demeanor changed in an instant, his face darkening with a tumultuous blend of brotherly protectiveness. His eyes narrowed into slits, and he gritted his teeth so tightly that Daenera momentarily worried they might shatter under the pressure.

After a prolonged, tension-filled silence, Jace managed to suppress his boiling anger, though his voice dripped with contempt as he issued a low, menacing warning, “Stay away from my sister, or I swear you will lose your tongue.”

Before Daenera could reach them to intervene and diffuse the situation, Aemond’s biting retort sliced through the charged atmosphere, sending a jolt of fear through her heart.

“Your sister would surely miss my tongue,” Aemond quipped, the corners of his mouth curling into a smug, provocative smile. “And I would certainly miss the taste of her sweetness.”

His words were a masterstroke of provocation, deliberately crafted to stir and escalate the already tense atmosphere. The innuendo laced within his statement was unmistakable, a calculated move designed to needle her brother further.

“I always assumed it was your brother who excelled in depravity,” Jace answered, a muscle in his jaw visibly twitching with irritation. “But it appears his vile traits have influenced you too; you’re no different from him.”

In response to the escalation, Daenera quickly stepped in, positioning herself between the two. She placed a hand firmly against her brother’s chest, her gesture a silent but urgent call for restraint.

“Enough,” she insisted sharply, her voice laced with a commanding firmness. Her gaze, burning with a combination of worry and resolve, bore into her brother’s, silently begging him to step back from the edge of confrontation. She applied gentle, yet firm pressure against his chest, subtly but effectively steering him away from the precipice of another public outburst.

As her brother descended the steps to join her and Aemond on the middle level of the staircase, Daenera held her ground firmly.

“Do not cause another scene,” Daenera implored.

“I wasn’t–” Jace huffed, “He–”

Daenera silenced him with a look.

Jace, meeting Daenera’s gaze, displayed a look of sheer exasperation. He let out a heavy sigh of annoyance, “He’s practically asking to lose another eye, and I’m starting to see no reason not to oblige him in balancing his face.”

Daenera, mirroring his frustration yet maintaining her composure, replied with cutting clarity, “He’s intentionally baiting you. Do not satisfy him with a response. “

As they spoke, she felt an unexpected, delicate sensation on her shoulder. A single finger subtly brushed aside the loose strands of her hair, sending a shiver down her spine and raising the hairs on her body. This faint caress traced gently over her skin, pushing her hair to unveil the graceful line of her shoulder, making her skin feel sensitive to the breath that curled over it.

“Remove your hands from my sister this instant,” Jace growled, his temper igniting. He leaned forward, edging past Daenera in a fervid attempt to confront Aemond, his eyes burning with anger.

Unfazed, Aemond responded in a low, provocative tone, dripping with suggestion, “Ah, but appears she doesn’t object to my touch, isn’t that so byka ābrazȳrys?”

Feeling a visceral reaction to Aemond’s presumptuous reference to her as his wife, Daenera squirmed away from him. She swiftly maneuvered to push her brother back from Aemond’s reach while simultaneously swatting at him. Her hand struck his arm with a solid thud, and she sharply reprimanded him, “Piss off!”

Jace pointed an accusing finger at Aemond. “My sister would never consent to marry someone who’s half a man and a thief at that!”

A flush of warmth coursed beneath Daenera’s skin, stirred by the intensifying confrontation. Maybe she ought to let them make fools of themselves before the entire court, as long as they kept her out of their quarrel.

Aemond, undaunted, fired back with a dry retort, “I may have lost an eye, Lord Strong, but I assure you, I am twice the man that you will ever be.”

“Jace,” Daenera cautioned, her tone a clear signal of warning as she sensed him halt abruptly. His gaze flickered to her, before darting back to Aemond.

Jace raised his hands, signaling a truce of sorts, neither moving closer to Aemond to beat him to a pulp nor retreating as his sister wanted. He drew in a deep, intentional breath, visibly gathering his composure under the watchful eye of those around him.

“You’re right, sister,” Jace conceded, his voice now stable but carrying an icy edge. “Engaging with such provocations is beneath me. It’s disheartening, uncle, to witness the depths of your bitterness. One might have hoped for you to have accepted your own fault in the incident, but it appears your past grievances has made a callous man out of you.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze unwavering. “It’s truly tragic. One is left to wonder if my brother’s actions did more than rob you of an eye – perhaps they stripped something essential from you.”

His gaze briefly dropped, conveying a clear, unspoken message.

“You might conceal the loss of your eye,” he began, his voice laden with implication, “but the… honor you’ve forfeited… that’s not something you can hide.”

For a fleeting moment, Daenera shut her eyes, sensing the weight of Jace’s words as they landed. She was acutely aware that without her intervention, their verbal sparring would likely have devolved into an outright brawl. One of them would have been thrown down the stairs, or both of them.

“I pity you, uncle,” Jace continued without a note of pity in his voice. “It’s a real tragedy that you’ve allowed the loss of your… eye to define you…”

Daenera’s hands gripped Jace’s shoulders and forced him towards the stairs, a knot of frustration sitting at the top of her stomach. She firmly guided him down the final set of stairs, her grip on his shoulders unyielding in her determination to prevent further conflict.

From behind them, Aemond’s retort was sharp as ever. “Your pity is of no consequence to me, Lord Strong. I may have lost an eye, but that is all you and your brother have taken from me. Your sister is well aware of this fact. Ivestragon zirȳla, byka ābrazȳrys.”

Daenera scowled as she felt the slight resistance in Jace as he obviously wanted to have the final word.

“I’m looking forward to seeing whether your fighting skills have improved by the time you return,” Aemond continued with his taunt. “It will be quite a pleasure to defeat you at your best, proving that the loss of my eye doesn’t hinder my ability to outmatch a pup such as yourself.”

Daenera shot a final, scathing glare at Aemond, whose self-assured smirk only served to affirm his success in provoking her brother. His air of smug satisfaction was infuriating, especially when Jace rose to the provocation.

Her brother, typically composed and measured in response to mockery, seemed to come undone in Aemond and Aegon’s presence. Given that each of them had a way of getting under one's skin, Daenera couldn’t help but exult an exasperated breath. She knew Jace knew better, and yet, he rose to their provocation against better judgment. It was infuriating.

As Jace attempted to shrug off Daenera’s persistent hands, she continued with determination, firmly grasping the collar of his doublet as she changed direction and dragged him into a vacant chamber. The abruptness of her pull elicited a stifled grunt from Jace as the fabric momentarily constricted around his neck.

Once secluded, Daenera faced him squarely, her tone a mixture of irritation and worry. “What was that about?”

Jace, smoothing out his doublet and adjusting the collar to a more comfortable position, locked eyes with Daenera. His expression was hard, tinged with a sense of resignation.

“Don’t put this on me. I was standing up for you, for your dignity,” Jace said petulantly. “You wouldn’t believe the insinuations he made, the lack of respect…”

Daenera pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out an exasperated breath, “What exactly did he say to you?”

Jace was quick to dismiss the question, his head shaking in adamant refusal, his hands sweeping across his face, his posture one of frustration.

Not satisfied with his evasive silence, he pressed on, her voice growing more insistent. “Tell me, Jace. What did he say?”

“I don’t want to repeat his vile words,” Jace said firmly, his stance on the matter unyielding.

Daenera let out another exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. “We can’t afford another scene like yesterday’s. This is exactly what he wants – to provoke you into causing another spectacle.”

Jace scowled at her. “He is the one who caused that scene with–”

“And you responded–”

“I know what he’s trying to do!” Jace responded, his voice laced with anger and frustration, a sneer on his lips.

“If you know what he’s trying to do, why do you rise to his provocation?!” Daenera argued. “They’ll see you as the hot-headed one, the one who acts rashly and without thinking–”

“I am painfully aware of his game,” Jace cut in, his voice both rising in volume and frustration, no longer able to mask his irritation. Confronting Daenera, his expression was a mix of disbelief and concern. “He couldn’t be more transparent. ‘Wife’ – that’s what he calls you, right? His ‘wife.’ I may struggle with High Valyrian but I know that much. Ābrazȳrys.”

“It is meaningless–” Daenera said warily, dragging a finger along the curve of her brow as she tried to ease the pounding within her head – the pounding of her heart.

“It’s not ‘nothing’, Daenera,” Jace countered sharply, looking at her with an accusatory set to his brows. “What I can’t fathom is your apparent nonchalance in all this–”

“Nonchalance?” Daenera repeated, her voice rising with a blend of surprise and irritation. Her brows furrowed deeply, reflecting her growing frustration. A mix of disbelief and anger churned within her, as intense as the flames flickering in the hearth.

“Yes, nonchalance! You seem unaffected when he presumptuously calls you his wife. You don’t intervene when he encroaches on your space – when he has the audacity to touch you,” Jace’s voice was charged with fury, his words tinged with accusation. “How can I remain composed when he insinuates such intimate familiarity with you! As a man knows his wife…”

Daenera’s mouth fell open in shock, a hot flush creeping up her cheeks, her heart pounding in disbelief. She was going to strangle Aemond.

But Jace was relentless as he continued, “He’s deliberately trying to dishonor us by labeling us as illegitimate, as Strong bastards! His accusations against our mother are outright disrespectful, and aimed to weaken her position. He understands the repercussions his words bring upon us, he knows that it means and yet he has the audacity to say them anyway! He even has the audacity to defy the King’s authority. And now, he’s not just insulting us, he’s trying to ruin your reputation with his vile insinuations, putting your virtue at risk by implying–”

“I’ve been married, Jace. My ‘virtue’ isn’t a matter for you to defend anymore,” Daenera snapped, her voice sharp with irritation.

“And what of your honor? Your standing? Am I to just watch as he turns it into a mockery, making you the laughing stock?” Jace’s voice rose in exasperation, his hands flailing in a mix of frustration and annoyance. “I’m your brother, I’m supposed to protect you against such vile insinuations.”

Drained, Daenera leaned against the edge of the table, a deep, weary sigh escaping her lips. She pressed the heel of her hand against her eye in a vain attempt to alleviate the prickle of tears. A tight knot formed in her throat, her emotions a tumultuous blend of frustration, sadness, and exhaustion.

“You’re my younger sister,” Jace said, his tone shifting, the earlier heat now replaced with a softer, yet still deeply frustrated and concerned timbre. “I am supposed to protect you from men like him.”

Daenera let out a mirthless laugh that bordered on a scoff.

“Aemond bears only malice for you, for all of us… for what happened,” Jace continued. “He would ruin your reputation if given half a chance. He’s not forgiven us, and I have no doubt he’s plotting his revenge.”

Indeed, Daenera was aware of Aemond’s past intentions to bring about her downfall – her ruin. He had openly confessed to such designs. Yet, now his tactics had evolved; he seemed driven to wreak havoc in her life, using her as a pawn to aggravate her family. And she suspected that this… confrontation between him and Jace was a way of lashing out, of sinking his claws into her, all because she was leaving.

“Jace,” she said, her voice a weary whisper.

“I can’t even begin to fathom your struggles here,” Jace said, stepping closer to join her in leaving against the table. His fingers curved around the edge, taping on the underside of the table. “Dealing with the Hightowers, not to mention the ceaseless hostility from Aegon and Aemond…. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you, as your brother it’s my responsibility.”

Daenera quirked her head up, a tug curving her lips as she said, “I’ve always been more than capable of protecting myself. You know that. You’ve suffered through it.”

Jace let out a chuckle, “Are you admitting to poisoning me that time?”

“No,” Daenera answered, adopting a faux innocence. “I am not admitting to anything… I’m just saying I know how to protect myself against the likes of Aegon and Aemond.”

“Still…” Jace hummed.

“It doesn’t matter now, I’m coming home.”

“There’s something about what he said,” Jace began after a moment of silence. He hesitated as if he searched for the right words, debating whether to continue. “He insinuated… suggested there might be some sort of… relationship between the two of you… a dalliance…”

Daenera stared at him incredulously. “Are you actually asking this?”

Jace faltered, struggling to find his words. “I just… he implied that you and him…”

“Yes, I understand what he was implying,” Daenera interjected with a touch of dryness in her tone. “What confuses me is why you’re suddenly dancing around the question. His insinuations were blatantly clear when he referred to me as his wife, and when you said he suggested he knows me intimately. What was it you said, ‘as a man knows his wife.’”

Jace appeared somewhat uncomfortable, his eyes avoiding hers as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not exactly the kind of thing a brother wants to consider.”

“Again, I’ve been married,” Daenera pointed out.

“It is different,” Jace insisted with the same tone she used.

Daenera, feeling a surge of irritation at the brother’s sudden display of prudishness, rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he be direct with her, especially when he didn’t hesitate to accuse her of things that he now seemed to struggle to ask her about? She released another sigh, her patience wearing thin.

Observing him, she noticed the seriousness etched into his features – his brow furrowed in concern, his chin set determinedly, his eyes reflecting a deep, protective worry.

“Aemond would say anything to provoke you,” Daenera answered.

“There’s just something about him,” Jace muttered, a sense of frustration evident as he shook his head. “He just gets under my skin.”

Internally, she yearned to unveil the entire truth to Jace, to share the complex nuances of her relationship with Aemond – how he had deeply affected her, burrowing under her skin to make a home there.

Yet, she held back, knowing all too well the pointlessness of such disclosures. She knew that Jace’s capacity to understand the situation would be limited, hindered by his deep-seated inability to forgive Aemond for past grievances and the public humiliations he had caused.

“Everything I’ve undertaken here,” Daenera started, her voice imbued with a sense of purpose, “has been for you and mother, to strengthen your claim and to secure your legacy.”

“I know,” Jace said softly.

“Good, because it hasn’t been easy,” Daenera admitted. “I will tell you about it when I return.”

With a tired sigh, Daenera leaned slightly into his supportive presence. “We better head to the litter before mother dispatches Daemon to find us.”

Standing by the bustling docks, Daenera watched the sailors as they diligently prepared the ship for departure.

A peculiar sensation of unease twisted in Daenera’s stomach, her heart pulsating to a rhythm that was both irregular and tense. The disquiet within her was hard to pinpoint – whether it was mere anxiety at the impending separation or the anticipation of her own forthcoming journey, she couldn’t tell. The feeling hovered in her chest, a silent echo of uncertainty, coloring her thoughts with shades of apprehension as she contemplated the changes on the horizon.

She found a small measure of comfort in the knowledge that she would soon follow them–see them again and be with her family.

A brisk, salty breeze wafted in from the sea, carrying the distinct aroma of the open waters. Daenera descended onto the wooden dock, the planks emitting soft creaks under her steps. Her eyes roamed over the scene – the chaotic yet purposeful movement of crates being hoisted onto the ship, ropes being secured, and the sails billowing in readiness.

The ship itself was a majestic sight, its mast soaring skyward, a symbol of both hope and the impending separation. The black sails bore the striking sigil of House Targaryen – a fierce red, three-headed dragon. The brow was adorned with a golden dragon figurehead, skillfully crafted to resemble Syrax, reinforcing the vessel’s royal lineage.

The sun’s rays played upon the water’s surface, creating a mesmerizing dance of light upon the ship’s hull. In the distance, the ship Meraxes awaited at anchor, its sails furled and poised to take the departing vessel’s place in the harbor once it set sail.

In her arms, young Viserys wiggled excitedly, his small fingers pointing towards a seagull that had brazenly snatched half a loaf of bread, now hastily retreating from the irate baker. His babbling attempts at speech were as unintelligible as they were endearing, a brief moment of innocence amidst the solemnity of the departure.

Daenera adjusted the young Viserys higher on her hip, tenderly brushing his pale curls from his face before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. The boy, absorbed in the bustling scene around him, remained blissfully unaware of his sister’s swirling emotions.

With a soft sigh, she passed him into the waiting arms of Sheran, who accepted the boy with a smile on her lips.

Turning to Aegon, she leaned down for a goodbye. The little boy eagerly wrapped his arms around her neck, planting a somewhat messy kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a trace of saliva that she affectionately wiped away. Elinda Massy gently guided the small boy away, adjusting him in her arms as they headed down the dock.

Joffrey then clung to her legs, prompting her to bend down for a proper hug. His small voice, muffled in her hair, asked, “Will you tell me stories?”

“Yes, I will read you stories when I return,” she promised, feeling his smile against her hair. Joffrey, content with her assurance, spun away and scampered after Sheran and Elinda, his small shoes tapping rhythmically on the wooden planks leading to the ship.

On board, Aegon and Joffrey continued to wave to her. Aegon, perched on Elinda’s shoulder, and Joffrey, both beaming and waving enthusiastically, created a heartwarming scene that Daenera memorized in her heart.

Turning to Luke, she quipped with a playful smile, “By the time I get back to Dragonstone, you’ll have outgrown your brother.”

Jace, ever the sarcastic one, shot back, “How amusing. Maybe you’ll pick up a sense of humor on your way home, sister.”

Daenera’s laughter was light as she playfully teased her brother. “Only if you find a pair of scissors on your travels.”

She reached up to tousle his short cropped, yet somehow long hair. The uneven cut was less than flattering, a disservice to his naturally curly and wild locks that usually added a certain roguish charm to his appearance. She mused that it might have been an attempt to look less like Ser Harwin Strong. “Level it out a bit before it grows out.”

Jace quickly swatted her hand away, attempting to smooth the hair she had ruffled. “Your thoughts on my hairstyle are of little consequence to me.”

“I’m merely saying what others are too polite to mention,” Daenera replied with an amused smirk, as he gave her a playful shove.

His comeback was swift. “Perhaps you should invest in some politeness, along with that sense of humor.”

Daenera reached up towards his hair again, playfully jibing at him as he attempted to swat her away. “Oh, you’re so grumpy. Has your short stature made you bitter?”

“Maybe it’s best that you stay in King’s Landing after all,” Jace quipped back and earned a slap on the arm from Luke who clearly disagreed with him.

Jace’s expression softened into a smile as he enveloped Daenera in a warm hug. “I don’t understand why we’re saying the long goodbyes, you’ll be back home soon enough.”

Daenera tightened her embrace. “Maybe it’s you who needs a lesson in manners. And when I return, I’ll give you a proper haircut so those curls of yours grow out even.”

Jace, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, playfully pushed Daenera away, returning the favor by tousling her hair much like she had done to him. “You’re not coming anywhere near me with scissors, I’d end up losing an ear.”

Daenera swatted his hand away, her fingers quickly moving to smooth out her disheveled hair and fixing the damage he had done to the pinned up braid.

Baela, stepping down from the ship to bid farewell, chimed in with amusement. “You trust her to stitch your wounds but not with a haircut?”

Jace defended his stance. “She’s trained in stitching up wounds, not styling hair.”

“I’m not sure I’d trust her with stitching either. Have you seen her embroidery work?” Rhaena joined in with a gentle smile that widened as Daenera scowled at her.

“Stitching wounds and embroidery are entirely different skills!” Daenera protested with a chuckle, even as Baela wrapped her in a warm embrace, her laughter ringing clearly in her ears.

“Actually, I think she’s right. You’re officially banned from any medical stitching,” Jace added, his tone teasing and laced with a brother’s characteristic jest.

As Daenera hugged Rhaena, she shot Jace a mock-threatening glance. “Next time you’re hurt, you’re on your own. I might just let you bleed.”

Jace let out a scoff, his head shaking in disbelief as he crossed his arms and with a knowing look in his eyes, retorted, “As if you could ever resist jumping in to treat a wound.”

In the midst of their banter, Rhaenyra approached, her expression soft and affectionate. She lovingly brushed Luke’s hair from his forehead, her maternal gaze filled with tender care. She then turned to Jace, signaling him towards the ship.

Jace gave Daenera one last smile, a silent message of love and farewell, before he made his way to join Baela and Rhaena on the vessel. Luke, however, lingered behind. His feet seemed rooted to the pier, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Daenera moved closer to Luke, gently lifting his chin so their eyes met. He was growing taller each day, inching closer to matching Ser Harwin’s impressive stature. Yet his eyes remained the same, revealing every single flicker of emotion. She addressed him with a caring tone of a proactive sister. “What is on your mind?”

Luke’s voice was filled with apprehension as he answered, “Why can’t you come with us now?”

Glancing briefly towards their mother, Daenera then focused back on Luke, letting out a breath as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I have a few things to take care of first, then I’ll be able to join you. It’s only a few days.”

In a quiet, almost conspiratorial whisper, Luke expressed his concern further. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here alone, undefended.”

Daenera fought back a laugh, touched by his concern. His protective instincts were endearing, but came too late. The recent events, particularly Aemond’s provocative comments, had clearly unsettled him and Daenera found herself offering some comforting words.

“I’m not alone; I have Joyce and Fenrick with me,” Daenera reassured him.

Luke’s worry was evident as he mentioned the crux of his concern. “But Aemond–”

“Aemond won’t cause any more trouble,” Daenera cut him off, her hand gently stroking through his hair to comfort him. “He only said those things to provoke a reaction, and he succeeded.”

Luke’s concern seemed to deepen, his voice tinged with apprehension. “But he despises us. What if he seeks revenge for what I did?”

What if he hurts you, for what I did. The words hovered between them, unspoken but very much there, hanging like ominous clouds before a deluge.

A frown creased Daenera’s brow as she struggled to find the right words. How could she explain the intricate and volatile nature of her relationship with Aemond? The truth – that Aemond still sought retribution for his lost eye, or that she had willingly given herself to him despite that. It would only inflame Luke’s worries further and escalate the tension between them.

“Luke…” Daenera’s voice was gentle as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, trying to convey reassurance through her touch. “I’ll be on Dragonstone soon, safe at home. Aemond won’t risk his chance to finally be rid of me.”

As she hugged her brother, Daenera’s mind drifted to Aemond’s conflicted expressions – his claim over her, his proposal of true marriage, and the pain and disappointment on his face as she rejected it. She realized the uncertainty of their future; leaving King’s Landing meant an indefinite separation, with no certainty of what might change before her mother ascended the throne, or whether his feelings would endure the test of time.

And if he still wanted her then…

Daenera reassured him with a gentle kiss on the temple before withdrawing from him. “And once I return we’ll work on improving your sea legs, future Lord of the Tides.”

At the mention of sailing, Luke groaned, clearly not fond of the idea. “Can’t I just rule the Tides from dragonback?”

Daenera laughed lightly. “It is amazing, isn’t it? You can fly through the skies on Arrax without a second thought, but set foot on a ship, and you’re as green as the sea.”

Luke glared resentfully at the ship waiting in the harbor, then scowled back at Daenera, responding with a grumble, “A dragon doesn’t roll like a ship does.”

“How about when I return, you take me for a flight? If Arrax can carry two, show me the difference between a ship and a dragon,” Daenera said, offering him something to look forward to.

Luke’s expression transformed from concern to surprise and then to excitement, his eyes sparkling with the prospect. “Really?”

He was aware of Daenera’s longstanding reluctance to fly, having heard her repeated refusals over the years. What he didn’t know was that she had already had a taste of the skies.

The thought of sharing that experience with her seemed to lift his spirits immensely, bringing a rare, wide smile to his face.

“Yes, but it’s conditional. He needs to be big enough for the both of us, and you must have absolute control over him,” Daenera stressed, underscoring the significance of safety in their aerial endeavor. “Also, we only fly under clear skies.”

Luke’s response was filled with eager resolve. “I promise, I’ll have him completely under control!”

“Good, because I’m not getting killed because you overestimate your control,” Daenera said. “I will haunt you.”

“I promise, I promise!” His voice conveyed not just his excitement about the prospect of sharing the skies with his sister, but also his commitment to ensuring their safety during the flight. His enthusiasm was palpable, lighting up his face with anticipation.

Daenera enveloped Luke in another heartfelt embrace.

As Daenera’s embrace with her brother came to an end, she felt a gentle hand brushing over the back of her head. Turning, she saw her mother standing beside her, her gaze tender yet searching as she looked into Daenera’s face. In her Rhaenyra’s eyes, there was a flicker of hesitation, a mother’s concern subtly surfacing. “You could still join us on the ship.”

Daenera’s gaze lowered to the gentle curve of her mother’s belly. Instinctively, she placed her hand there, seeking to feel the life of the child within. The unborn baby remained still, and Daenera felt a surge of anticipation. “I think it’s a girl this time.”

Rhaenyra smiled, her own hands covering Daenera’s. “I have the same feeling.”

Daenera’s eyes sparkled with joy. “I’m so excited to meet her.”

“We’ll need to be patient a little while longer. She’s not ready to greet the world just yet,” Rhaenyra said softly, her touch tender as she caressed her belly. “But I’m sure she’s just as eager to meet you.”

“Baby Visenya,” Daenera murmured softly, imagining a little girl with silver locks running through the halls of Dragonstone, chasing after her brother’s as Daenera had done with hers.

Rhaenyra’s eyes shimmered with a touch of amusement and pride at the mention of a name. “A formidable name for a Targaryen.”

Daemon, joining them, inquired with a hint of curiosity as he gently placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back. “What name?”

In unison, both Daenera and Rhaenyra replied, “Visenya.”

Daemon nodded in approval, his voice warm. “Formidable indeed.”

A fond smile graced his lips as he gazed down at Rhaenyra’s belly, his hand tenderly following the contours of her growing bump. His gaze then drifted towards the ship, signaling the time for departure. “They’re ready to set sail.”

Rhaenyra pulled Daenera into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around her as though she never wanted to let go. “Stay safe, my love.”

“If you’re not back in time, your brother’s will be searching every wave for you,” Daemon added, a gentle but firm warning.

Daenera let out a light chuckle, fully aware that her brothers would be vigilantly patrolling the skies and seas if she was even slightly delayed–while Daemon would likely make his way towards King’s Landing.

As Rhaenyra released her from their embrace, Daenera felt a knot form in her stomach. It was a blend of apprehension and regret, the weight of it bearing down on her. She glanced at Daemon.

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” she murmured.

Daemon scrutinized her for a moment, his lips pursed in contemplation. “You are young. Although we might have lost Storm’s End, not all houses in the Stormlands agree with their liege lord. You have your youth, wit, and no current obligations. There are still prospects for you.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra interjected reproachfully, her touch on his chest a gentle reminder that this was neither the time nor place for such discussions.

Seeming to understand her intent, Daemon nodded and leaned in to kiss Daenera’s forehead, offering his silent support. “Eight days.”

Rhaenyra mirrored her husband’s affection with a kiss on Daenera’s cheek, caressing her face. Then, with a final glance, the couple walked down the pier towards the waiting ship.

As the ship prepared to depart, the sound of mooring lines being released resonated through the air, mingling with the rustle of sails billowing in the wind. The vessel, grand and imposing, began its journey across the water of Blackwater Bay.

Daenera remained at the pier’s edge, her eyes unwaveringly locked on the silhouettes of her family standing at the ship’s stern. Her younger brother’s waved eagerly to her, Joffrey on Jace’s shoulders and Aegon in Luke’s arms. Daenera waved back at them, watching with a knot in the back of her throat as the vessel glided further from the dock, the tall figures becoming smaller and smaller–yet their waves of farewell were still discernible. Lifting her hand higher, Daenera responded with a wave of her own, a silent exchange of love and parting.

Breaking her from the reverie, Joyce approached, her tone indicating she had success with her task. “I was able to acquire what we needed.”

Turning her attention to Joyce, Daenera peered into the basket she carried. Inside lay an assortment of dried herbs–tansy, mint, wormwood, and pennyroyal, each with its specific purpose.

Daenera’s nod was one of quiet appreciation and understanding. They would prepare the moontea come morning.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd fanfic #a vow of blood

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justahumblememefarmer · 4 months

Text

Ultimate Doctor Who Poll Round 1 - Matchup 19

Episode Summaries under the cut

105: Last Christmas - Season 8 Christmas Special: The Doctor and Clara are asked for help by Santa Clause, and head to a base at the North Pole. At the base they meet several scientists who are dealing with dram crabs that sense thoughts and attach themselves to people's faces, putting them into a dream state while it eats their brain. Clara is attacked by one and is trapped in a dream with her deceased boyfriend, Danny. The Doctor attaches one to himself to join her dream and get her to reject it as fake, waking them both up and destroying the crab. Symptoms of being victims of the dream crab still affect everybody, and the Doctor determines that they are all in a shared dream state, he and Clara were just in a lower layer.

They all wake up again, and the Clara figures out that they are still dreaming. They fight off dream versions of themselves, and wish for Santa to save them. He rescues them in his sleigh and they begin to remember their real lives, slowly disappearing as they wake up in the real world. The Doctor goes to visit Clara, discovering that 62 years have passed for her since he last saw her. Santa appears and reveals that this is one further dream, and they wake up. The Doctor invites Clara to travel with him again, and they take off in the TARDIS.

137: The Shakespeare Code - Season 3, Episode 2: The Doctor takes Martha back in time to see one of Shakespeare's plays. He announces a sequel to his play Love Labour's Lost to be Love Labour's Won which is known as one of Shakespeare's lost plays. The Doctor and Martha go to visit Shakespeare and he is very taken with Martha. They also find that Shakespeare is immune to the Doctor's psychic paper. The owner of the Globe Theater shows up, angry that Shakespeare announced the sequel would be performed the next night, and cancels the performance. One of the maids, an alien witch in disguise overhears this, and with her mothers, create a voodoo doll of him and drown it, killing him.

The Doctor and Martha investigate the strange death, and retreat back to their room at the inn. Shakespeare stays up to write, and the witch Lilith enchants him to write a strange paragraph into his play. The inn keep walks in on them and the witch shows her true form, scaring her to death. The Doctor and Martha come running after hearing the scream. Lillith is seen flying away on a broomstick by Martha. Figuring that Shakespeare and the Globe Theatre are part of the witches plans, they track down the architect, who has been locked up in a madhouse.

The Doctor helps the catatonic architect regain his lose memories, and he reveals that the witches influenced his construction of the Globe and drove him mad once their use for him was done. One of the witches, Mother Doomfinger, appears and kills the architect. The Doctor works out what species they are, and names Doomfinger as a Carrionite, injuring her. He explains that Carrionites are a lost race of aliens that use an ancient science based on the power of words. They also work out that they plan to use Shakespeare's words and the construction of the globe to restore their species.

They confront Lillith who makes Martha faint by naming her, and makes a voodoo doll of the Doctor, knocking out one of his hearts, then leaves. Martha restarts his second heart, nd they make it to the theatre as the play ends, with the Carrionites portal being opened and beginning to swarm. They tell Shakespeare to improvise a verse to get rid of them, and he closes the portal, retrapping all the Carrionites and destroying the pages of his play.

#doctor who #ultimate doctor who poll #my post #polls #12th doctor #clara oswald #10th doctor #martha jones #peter capaldi #jenna coleman #david tennant #freema agyeman #last christmas #the shakespeare code

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mrchiipchrome · 7 months

Text

So here are some prompts from songs that I've got ideas around, feel free to request blurbs for whoever:)

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1. -Honestly I’m better as your boy, I’d be kinda shitty as your man. Let’s go back to only being friends.

2. -I don’t wanna fall in love, -No?, -No.

3. -Oh…I got way too attached, -That wasn’t the plan?, -No

4. Where’d all the time go?

5. -Time to get out, I don’t want you around.

6. -I couldn’t see you the way you saw me.

7. -I tried my best to be worth all your while, -You just gotta let me go.

8. -Loving you was a hazard, so I got my heart a helmet.

9. -You like the pretty girl, with the pretty voice?

10. -She might let you stay, but just for the night.

11. -Oh I’m down on my hands and knees, begging you please, baby.

12. -You’re making me crazy.

13. -I’m feeling so tired, really falling apart.

14. -It just doesn’t make sense to me, why you’d stick right next to me, wherever I go.

15. -I feel the way you’re looking at me through my peripherals.

16. -Next thing I know she was feeling on me.

17. -I just hope you don’t wanna leave me…

18. -Only I belong with you and only you darling.

19. -I think of her so much it drives me crazy.

20. - I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.

21. -I went to hell and back, just to find peace.

22. -I can’t describe what I’m feeling.

23. -I don’t care how long it takes, as long as I’m with you I’ve got a smile on my face.

24. -Save your tears

25. -It will be okay, as long as you’re here with me.

26. -I wish I could live through every memory again.

27. -So, can I call you tonight?

28.-She looks just like a dream.

29. It’s just like seeing her for the first time, again.

30. -Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.

31. -I’d rather lose somebody than use somebody.

32. -It’s you and me, always forever.

33. -...is the girl that I wanna kiss.

34. -You know I get so forgetful looking in her eyes.

35. -There’s nothing to keep you from falling in love.

36. -Cause all of the small things that you do, are what reminds me why I fell for you.

37. -Don’t forget to kiss me.

38. -I might need you or I’ll break.

39. -I act like I don’t care

40. -I bet you wish that I was still right there.

41. -I think I like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.

42. -No one can save me but you.

43. -You never felt this way?

44. -I’d never dreamed that I’d love someone like you.

45. -Everytime you go away, you take a piece of me with you.

46. -I can feel your body move.

47. -I want you here with me, from tonight until the end of time.

48. -You’re just too good to be true, I can’t take my eyes off of you.

49. -You’d be like heaven to touch.

50. -Please let me know that it’s real.

51. -I wanna feel you in my arms again.

52. -You’re the light in the deepest, darkest hour.

53. -There goes my baby.

54. -I’ll never deserve you

55. -Just hold me now

56. -What do you say when words are not enough?

57. -It feels like you don’t care

58. -No, not a single tear

59. -Tell me what you heard

60. -A pretty face with some cute lips.

61. -So kiss me once and kiss me twice, and kiss me once again.

62. -It’s been a long time.

63. -When you kiss me, heaven sighs.

64. -When you press me to your heart, oh I’m in a world apart.

65. -Give your heart and soul to me.

66. -I’m in heaven.

67. -I want my arms around you.

68. -It’s nice to have you back, where you belong.

69. -The band is playing, -One of our old favorite songs.

70. -Leave your worries on the doorstep my dear.

71. -Life can be sweet.

72. -Oh I’m on the sunny side of the street.

73. Stars shining bright above you.

74. -Dream a little dream of me.

75. -Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me.

76. -Promise to me, you’ll dream.

77. -We may never, never meet again.

78. -Oh when you’re smiling, the whole world smiles with you.

79. When I saw you last night and got that old feeling.

80. -When you caught my eye, my heart stood still.

81. -Give me a kiss to build a dream on.

82. -Oh, give me your lips just for a moment.

83. -Wherever you’re going, I’m going the same way.

84. -We have all the time in the world.

85. -Give me your kisses, I’ll give you my heart.

86. -Give me the right to call you all mine.

87. -Though we’re apart, you’re part of me still.

88. -You came, -You saw?, -Oh you conquered me.

89. -Fantastic? Oh that’s you.

90. -I still get jealous.

91. -All my wildest dreams come true, -When I’m near you?

92. -Love makes me treat you the way that I do.

93. -You’re afraid each thing I do, -Is just some evil scheme?

94. -Why can’t I free your doubtful mind, and melt your cold cold heart?

95. -Pardon the smile on my face dear.

96. -Your lips are as warm and sweet as wine.

97. -I’ll keep you safe.

98. -For I can’t help falling in love with you.

99. -My heart is yours.

100. Bound to falling in love.

101. -I knew a girl just like you once.

102. -I'll always look out for you.

103. -I won't let you down.

104. -One day it'll all make sense.

105. -For you, I'd bleed myself dry.

106. -Baby, you’re the best.

107. -I haven’t seen you in a long time.

108. -I gave it all for a fantasy.

109. -I'll love you better if you let me.

110. -I'll love you forever.

111. -My heart is a broken mess

112. -Are you honest?

113. -I’ll take you just the way you are.

114. -You’ll always have my unspoken passion.

115. -I hope no one catch us, -But I kinda hope they catch us

116. -Baby you’re all mine.

117. -Maybe it couldn’t work out in the end.

118. -I know you want me.

119. -I’ve been getting mixed signals.

120. -I’m just trying to get closure.

121. -I know she’s a loser.

122. -Is it wrong?, -Is it right?

123. -Nobody does it like you do.

124. -You’ve begun to feel like home.

125. -I’ll be right here.

126. -I've been trying to get you out the friend zone.

127. -Baby, am I your little secret?

128. -And I guess I’ll just miss her, even though she isn’t even really gone…things are just different.

#woso #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #writing promts

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spicykaraage · 6 months

Text

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Shuusuke Fuji

[PROFILE]

Birthday: February 29th (Pisces)

Blood Type: B

Relatives: Father, Mother (Yoshiko Fuji), Older Sister (Yumiko Fuji), Younger Brother (Yuuta Fuji)

Father’s Occupation: Company Employee (foreign company)

Elementary School: Seishundai Third Elementary School

Middle School: Seishun Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: Third Year | Class 3-6 | Seat 14

Club: Tennis Club - Regular

Committee: Yearbook Production Committee

Strong Subjects: Classic Literature

Weak Subjects: Science

Frequently Visited Spot at School: Photography Room

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup Japanese Representatives

Favorite Motto: “What is essential is invisible to the eyes.”

Daily Routines: Tending to his cacti, drinking morning coffee

Hobbies: Collecting cacti, photography

Favorite Color: Beige

Favorite Music: Celtic music

Favorite Movie: Musicals

Favorite Book: Interior design magazines ➜ Travelogues, travel photo books [23.5]

Favorite Food: Apples, Cajun food, spicy ramen ➜ Anything spicy, 100% apple juice [23.5]

Favorite Anniversary: The birthday of a special someone

Preferred Type: A person with beautiful fingers ➜ A person who smells like flowers [23.5]

Ideal Date Spot: Planetarium ➜ An observatory with a beautiful view of the stars [23.5]

His Gift For a Special Person: A flower ring

Where He Wants to Travel: Salar de Uyuni on a starry night

Thing He Wants Most Right Now: Antique furniture and tableware ➜ Incentive [23.5]

Dislikes: Sour food

Skills Outside of Tennis: Skiing, ice-skating and other winter sports ➜ Winter sports, locating constellations [23.5]

Spends Allowance On: Things to help with his cacti

Routine During the World Cup: Drinking coffee from around the world, contacting his brother

[DATA]

Height: 167cm

Weight: 53kg

Shoe Size: 25cm

Dominant Arm: Right

Vision: 1.2 Left | 1.0 Right

Play Style: Counter Puncher

Signature Moves: Tsubame Gaeshi (Swallow Return), Higuma Otoshi (Bear Drop), Hakugei (White Whale), Kagero Zutsumi (Dragonfly Illusion), Houou Gaeshi (Phoenix Return), Kirin Otoshi (Qilin Drop), Hakuryuu (White Dragon), Gatekeeper of Hecatoncheires, Hoshi Hanabi (Starry Fireworks), Closed Eye, Aoi Fubuki (Blue Blizzard), Hikari Kaze (Wind of Light)

Time He Wakes Up: 6:00am

Time He Goes to Sleep: 11:30pm

Number of Inui Juices Consumed: 16

Favorite Brands:

Racquet: prince (TRIPLE THREAT RIP), prince (MICHAEL CHANG TITANIUM)

Shoes: Nike (NIKE READY AIR BISCAYNE MID III)

Fitness Test Results:

Sidesteps: 63

Shuttle Run: 115

Back Strength: 116kg

Grip Strength: 47kg

Backbend: 62 cm

Seated Forward Bend: 47.8cm

50m Run: 6.8 seconds

Standing Long Jump: 232cm

Handball Throw: 31.5m

Endurance Run (1500m): 4:44

Overall Rating: Speed: 3 / Power: 3 / Stamina: 3 / Mental: 4 / Technique: 5 / Total: 18

Kurobe Memo: “Evident from his beautiful play style, he is undoubtedly gifted in the sport. If he weren’t so concerned with playing aesthetically, I suspect he could go from a great player to an undeniably strong one.” [RB]

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bedroom [10.5]

Cacti // He moves them back and forth between his windowsill and shelves for sunlight

A rocking chair

Record player // He prefers it over a CD player since it’s quieter

Vinyl records // Bought from used record stores. Most of them are classic and jazz

Computer // The monitor is placed on the shelf next to his desk to conserve space. He’ll put his keyboard on his desk when he needs to use it

His favorite photos // Large printed photos he had taken on holidays and trips that are hanging on his wall

A very spacious closet // He stores his clothes, books, school uniforms and other things in it

What’s in His Bag [10.5]:

Cell phone // His family members are frequently on the go

Pass case

An English copy of The Little Prince // A book that’s dear to him, he’s read it in Japanese and is now reading the English version

Word cards // He’ll write down words he doesn’t understand in The Little Prince and look them up when he gets home

Writing supplies // Used to write down the situations, dates, times of shooting and other details when he captures photos

Compact camera

Compact mirror // He also uses it as a reflector for photos

What’s in His Locker at the U-17 Training Camp [10.5 II]:

Illustrated plant encyclopedia // Borrowed from Shiraishi

Muscle training equipment // 5kg dumbbells. He is secretly doing strength training to improve his power

Camera // Digital SLR

Interior design magazines // He’s thinking about redecorating his room once he returns from the camp

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis 10.5 Fanbook | Release Date: 11/02/2001

He has his eyes closed most of the time to exude friendliness, but will open them when he’s being cautious or calculating. Konomi states they are usually closed whenever he’s smiling

His mother cooks a lot of Cajun and western dishes, which is why he doesn’t mind eating dubious food

He is very family-oriented and kind to his relatives. When he goes shopping with his sister they are often mistaken as lovers

Konomi wrote him to like spicy food since he wanted him to seem different and unusual

He is nicknamed “Fujiko” by Kawamura after the heroine of Lupin III since the latter is a fan of the series

On Sundays he goes to his grandfather’s photo studio on the outskirts of town to take photos

He tries keeping a smile on his face since he wants to find enjoyment in everything. Even when facing a strong opponent in a match, he thinks of how lucky he is that he’s able to go up against a great player

He and his brother Yuuta do not fight, but they do not talk to each other as often as they used to since Yuuta entered middle school

Although he notoriously likes spicy food, he likes sweets as well. He especially loves the raspberry pie his sister Yumiko makes

Despite being born on February 29th, a leap year, everyone still celebrates his birthday every year. Kikumaru once jokingly said to him “You’re only three years old!”

His personality is described as someone who’s very calculating while wearing a smile

Konomi describes him as “growing more on his own”, since at the time he was growing increasingly popular and took on a life of his own

The Prince of Tennis 20.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2003

He is known to be very attentive and can make friends of all types

He keeps his room neat and orderly

He could not handle drinking “Aozu” in Genius 159 due to one of its key ingredients being vinegar (he dislikes sour foods)

His secondary sport would be figure skating

The Prince of Tennis 40.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2007

He is very competitive and will usually stay calm and undaunted in any situation

He’s described to be very versatile and multi-talented

He is fastidious, and has a tendency to delve deep into various things in order to feel satisfied

He is easily attracted to mysterious things

He is thought to have had strong spiritual powers by nature and has had strange occurrences happen to him

He is often misunderstood due to his mysterious nature, but he is actually very loving, compassionate and easily moved to tears

He had written a research paper on cacti the previous summer that received a lot of praise and attention, even surprising university researchers

He came up with the name “Gatekeeper of Hecatoncheires” for his technique from a book on Greece he had read when he was younger

Konomi had plans for him to transfer to Rikkai, and states he alluded it after his match with Ryoma, but ultimately decided for him to stay at Seigaku. He explains that he wanted him to transfer to grow even stronger and have a serious match against Ryoma

Konomi had wanted him to lose against Niou, but decided against it since he had already lost to Shiraishi

#tenipuri #tenirabi #profile #my post #seigaku

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raineandsky · 1 year

Text

Masterpost

Requests are open!

heroes & villains series (+ a few knockoffs)

#1 - the villain is faced by the hero's young sidekick

#2 - the villain needs a place to stay out of the rain

#3 - the hero comes across the villain in an alley on their patrol

#4 - the hero has an urgent question for the villain

#5 - a vampire finds a new way to be invited in

#6 - the villain nurses their loss in a quiet diner when an equally tired person enters, and orders a coffee in a very familiar voice

#7 - the villain picks a fight for a particular reason

#9 - a detective finally in retirement receives an unexpected cold call

#10 - the hero tries to make their time in a cell less boring

#11 - the king has an undesirable reward for the knight who rescued his daughter

#12 - the villain manages to corner the hero at a bad time

#14 - the hero and villain's antics get in the way of the civilain's day

#15 - the villain comes across the hero worse for wear

#16 - the hero is a lot closer to their nemesis than they thought

#18 - the villain faces the consequences of the agency's newfound violence

#19 - the hero finds themself somewhere unexpected after a wild night

#20 - a prince finds trouble surviving the apocalypse with someone he's stuck with

#21 - the heroes take a break for Easter to do a hunt across the city

#23 - the hero and the villain argue over something unnecessary

#24 - the hero faces a deadend

#25 - the villain has to escape the hero's advances

#26 - the hero's knowledge ruins a perfectly good monologue

#27 - an evening out with the villain bears some unforeseen consequences

#28 - the villain mistakes someone else for the hero

#29 - the villain can provide some information on the hero's behalf

#30 - villainy is barely a minimum wage job

#31 - the villain isn't as all-in as the hero expected

#32 - the sidekick's identity isn't what anyone expected

#35 - the villain's confession is met with something she wasn't expecting

#36 - the villain finally catches the hero, only met with... delight?

#37 - the villain keeps the hero's partner as hostage - but is somehow the more moral of the two

#38 - a hunter finds a vampire - and his collection of humans

#39 - a court jester hears of affairs out of his jurisdiction

#40 - the hero's violence finds an end to the villain's comforts

#41 - the villain gets an unexpected visitor

#42 - the sidekick meets with someone unconventional

#43 - the hero has to track down the villain, only to find them in a rather unusual predicament

#44 - the villain finds something (someone?) in the supervillain's office

#45 - the hero finds herself in a predicament when her memory fails her

#46 - the villain kidnaps the hero, though they're not there for the reason the hero thinks they are

#47 - the villain's mugshot more flattering than they expected

#48 - the sidekick goes out on his own

#49 - the henchman goes out of their way to defend their villain

#50 - the civilian finds a hero oddly worried about him

#51 - an overly nosy reporter finds the villain in a bad spot

#52 - a knight bursts into the prince's room - only to find... not the prince

#53 - a small-town hero meets his match

#54 - a hero loses her job. a villain gains a charity case

#55 - a stakeout makes a hero and a villain a little closer than necessary

#56 - a villain reaches the end of the line

#57 - a villain's plans are put on hold for a kid that's not even his

#58 - a hero's lethal accident turns out to have consequences

#59 - the superhero meets an old friend

#60 - the villain's plan has consequences for their henchman

#61 - the villain's plan catches the hero at a bad time

#62 - the villain turns up on the hero's doorstep, and she hopes for something back for her hospitality

#63 - the villain walks straight into the heroes agency

#64 - the hero finds someone familiar lurking outside

#65 - the villain finds the hero's new sidekick to be... unconventional

#66 - recent divorcees are forced to clash

#67 - the hero's attempt to stop a robbery goes sideways when they discover that one of the criminals is... kind of beautiful

#68 - the villain confesses to a betrayal - in more ways than one

#69 - the hero and the villain need to hide their relationship - in plain sight

#70 - the heroes catch a villain - but at what cost?

#71 - a pair of supernatural creatures plan to team up

#72 - the hero's missing - and the villain finds that the reason may be contagious

#74 - a priest finds his lover is not who he thought

#75 - vampires don't hunt alone

#76 - heroes are lacking, and the agency's looking for replacements

#77 - the sidekick is ready to face the city - though which hero they'll go with is a difficult decision

series

request - frienemies (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

#8 - a corrupt guardian (part 1) (part 2)

#13 - pinky promise (part 1) (part 2)

#17 - the world's most useless superpower (part 1) (part 2)

#22 - villains are nicer, anyway (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

request - love's the death of peace of mind (part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

#33 - taxi to hell (part 1) (part 2)

#34 - a date in exchange (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

other bits n bobs

~fancy schmancy~ (part 1) (part 2 on @heroes-villains-side-blog)

request - a human discovers his new friend is a fae

If you'd like to be on a taglist, just ask!

Still looking?

#writblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing masterpost #welcome! i write lil snippets of stories here and there every few days (the schedule is subject to a lotta change)#heroes and villains #original writing #not writing #this is gonna be hella long at some point ill try figure out how i can make it shorter lmao #i will also forget to update this. often. standby

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bratshaws · 2 years

Text

goodness gracious 66. brb x oc

a/n: i really need to calm down and NOT SKIP WORDS BECAUSE OF WHAT IM PLANNING AAAAAAAAAAAAA

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff uwu with some sprinkle of suggestive

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3

@lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2 @emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads

They left Virginia Monday night, the snowstorm was finally gone and the sky was clear enough to fly safely. Beatrice couldn’t help but feel very thankful for this experience, of meeting his parents and spending time with him. She looks down at his hand clasped around her on the armrest, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb while his eyes remain on the window, checking the outside.

Her smile never faltered, instead it got bigger when they arrived back in California - both of them hurriedly removing some layers of clothing because while it was cold there it wasn’t as cold as in Virginia. Bradley’s blue Bronco finally came into view and Beatrice laughed at his soft sigh of relief upon seeing it again, opening the little gate to let Jolene out of her cage when he opened the door for the pitbull.

Before she got inside herself, she was surprised when he kissed her, hugging her close to him and completely ignoring the people coming and going from the airport. She hums into his mouth, laughing against his lips before he breaks the kiss, “I missed kissing you.” he answers her unsaid question.

“We kissed before boarding the plane and before landing.” she says and Rooster just shrugs, pressing another one but this time on her cheek. Was she really complaining? Not really, not at all. They got inside the car and Rooster drove them away from the airport, Beatrice leaning her arm back so she could pet Jolene on the back seat, scratching the pitbull under her chin.

Since it was still the middle of the week, Bradley couldn’t stay with her, something that hurt her heart a little bit but she understood completely. That didn’t mean he was planning on leaving as soon as she placed her things inside the house however, “C’mere.” He grabs her by the waist and closes the door behind her so they are both outside, the blanket of darkness shielding them from any cars that might drive by her road - not to mention he was big enough to hide her easily.

Beatrice doesn’t stop him when he leans down to bring their lips together in a kiss, hugging his neck to bring him closer, chests touching and the taste of the coffee he had at the airport still clinging to his mouth. Her cheeks turn red when he deepens the kiss, she wasn’t sure why it always happened whenever he did so, with one of his hands sliding under her gray sweater and up her back, “Mm,Brad,” she tries to say against his mouth, but it only comes out as muffled words instead.

His hand goes back down to cup her buttcheek, with the other one taking its place under her top, fingertips gently caressing her skin. She tries calling him again, choosing to cup his face and break the kiss so they could finally speak, “Brad,” she says between heavy breaths, “I know I’d love to keep this going, but we both have to sleep. You especially."

She was right. He groans quietly, eyes moving from her green irises to her lips over and over “...Fuck, you are right.” he murmurs, but he does kiss her lips one last time, a quick smack that only makes her heart beat faster, “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.” his hands drag away from her with some difficulty, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet, “Have a good day at work.”

Bradley laughs quietly, running his hands through his hair as he backs away with his eyes still on Beatrice, “I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.” was her soft reply, waiting until he was inside the Bronco to give him one final wave, smiling sweetly at him before he drove off and disappeared from her view. Beatrice allowed herself to fall back against the door, sighing dreamily with her hands cupping her warm cheeks. That was probably one of the best days of her life and she couldn’t believe it. Her stomach churned with good nerves remembering how they spent time together, how he chose to open up more about his life and how much he loved her.

She walks back inside her house with her feet light and heart beating fast, sliding down her door into a sitting position as she still tries to wrap her head around everything that happened these past months. Jolene leapt off from the couch to check on Beatrice, dropping her huge head on her lap and looking up at her with worry, “I’m so happy Jojo.” she whispers, picking the pitbull’s head up with both hands, “I am so happy. God…can you believe this? Him? I sometimes can’t believe he’s even real, I feel like I’ll just wake up and it’d be all over, you know?”

The dog just blinks up at her, clearly not answering, “It’s been so great…and we’ll move in together in a little while! And you’ll have a nice large backyard,” that brought the dog to her feet, tail wagging rapidly, “Yes! You’ll have so much space!” Jolene bounced from side to side after that information, tongue lolling out of her mouth in a pittie smile. Beatrice grins, scratching her on the back of the head one more time then pushing herself to her feet, placing her hands on her hips as she looks around her rented house.

She was excited about this new chapter opening to her, she wouldn’t be alone in it. She was excited about what the future would bring to the two of them, excited of what they could have together and she wondered– no better not wonder about that not, wait until they are living together at least. Beatrice walks up the stairs to her bed, falling on the soft mattress with a sigh leaving her lips, her mouth curled up in a constant smile that seemed glued on her lips, never faltering or disappearing.

“To whoever sent him my way,” she whispers to the air around her, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

She fell asleep with her clothes on, which wasn’t really comfortable but she was too tired to care, only noticing it when she blinked her eyes open and noticed her legs were stiff because of her jeans. With a quick look to her phone to check the time, she immediately kicked the covers out of her remembering she had pole dancing class and Shells would be there in a matter of minutes.

She didn’t know how but she managed to slide on her workout outfit and run down towards the door when she heard her friend knocking. Shells blinked in surprise when Beatrice yanked it open, fixing her jacket on her shoulder, “Sorry,” she said a bit out of breath, “I just passed out last night, didn’t even change clothes and I had to hurry and get dressed.”

Shells’ eyes narrowed comically, about to say something less than child friendly but the brunette just walked past her to the car. “I mean, then that meant you wasted your energy doing something huh?” Beatrice turns just in time to see Shells waggling her eyebrows. Memories of the strip poker and what happened afterwards hit her with full force and she had to look away before Shells noticed how red her cheeks had gotten. Her friend just chuckled, unlocking her car for Beatrice before they got inside.

They had a chat about how it was, the whole trip excluding the obvious details of their game past midnight. As Beatrice kept talking, she noticed Shells got serious, just nodding along instead of answering, “What’s wrong?” she asks, and the blonde huffs through her nose.

“I didn’t want to tell you this because you just came back…but I’m pretty sure I saw Eric.” The mention of her ex’s name made Bea freeze and stare with wide eyes, “Bob and I went out for dinner on friday and I saw that giant bug headed motherfucker waiting in his car for someone. I didn’t want to make a scene because of Bob but I just thought you’d want to know.”

But seeing Eric didn’t mean much, right? She even voiced it as so but her friend shook her head, “Listen, babes, I love you you are my best friend in the whole wide world and you know I’d never lie to you, but I think something is up. I think Eric plans something.” well considering how he tried to use one of Beatrice’s former classmates to spy on her and failed, would say as much “I think he’s scouting around trying to find you or something.”

Eric wasn’t violent, or anything besides verbally, but thinking he was trying to find her didn’t make her feel much better.

On the drive to the dance studio, Beatrice couldn’t help but look outside the window to the passing cars, chewing the side of her thumb. She was surprised she wasn’t…scared, nervous yes, but not scared. Her worry was slowly turning into anger at the thought of Eric suddenly deciding to find her. Who the fuck did he think he was? “Thank you for telling me.” and considering Shells’ expression at Beatrice’s words, she wasn’t expecting the brunette to sound so calm either.

“...you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Bea smiles shortly, looking back outside, “I am just digesting the information.” thinking about it again, with the adrenaline and fear dissipating into fury, she could think better. Eric would never do it himself, no he’s too good to do it himself, he’d hire someone, ask someone else to do so and then he’d show up. He’d blab slimy words and hope any of them would stick, which she knew wouldn't work, and then try gifting her something in hopes he’d win her over again with no results. “I’m not worried.”

Shells arches one eyebrow towards her, “You’re not?” Bea shakes her head, “...why? I’d be a bit iffy.”

“Because Eric is irrelevant to me now, Shells.” there was one thing that Shells wasn’t even sure if Rooster saw yet. He probably saw Bea angry but she wasn’t sure if he ever saw her friend absolutely furious. She never raised her voice, in fact she kept it monotone and sharp, like a knife ready to stab you. Beatrice had never been physical with anyone but she could easily destroy people with just her words. “He can try reaching out to me however he wants, he won’t get the response he expects.” especially since he didn’t believe Beatrice had a boyfriend now.

A boyfriend that could easily snap Eric like a twig if he so wished. But no, Bea didn’t want Rooster to get physical with Eric, because Eric’s family was pretty powerful and he could do something against Bradley that would ruin his career and Beatrice would blame herself immensely for it. If it came to a point where she’d have to talk to Eric, she’d do it alone, she wouldn’t want Rooster to get stuck in the middle of her messy ex and herself.

“Listen,I like that attitude but still.” Shells shrugs her shoulders as she parks the car, “It is a bit worrisome, isn’t it?”

“If it gets out of hand, I’ll deal with it.”

“You?You don’t plan on telling Rooster about it?”

The two of them walk past the glass doors, then up the staircase that led to the studiom, the music already playing, “I don’t want Brad to get problems because of Eric.” she says quietly, unzipping her jacket as they neared the top step, “You know his family owns I don’t know how many buildings in San Diego and LA.”

“Yeah, but didn’t his father disown him or something?” That statement made Beatrice stop one step above Shells, furrowing her eyebrows, “I went full on detective, his father took him out of the business because he wasn’t responsible enough. So…”

“Even so, I wouldn’t want to risk it.”she says, but the thought of his father taking him out of the family business…he must’ve messed up really bad for him to do that. “Besides, just because you saw him doesn’t mean he’s trying to find me.” Shells replied with a less than believable ‘hmhm’, following Beatrice inside the studio where the others were. After some quick greetings, Tiff walked in and they began their stretching, both Bea and Shells bending by the stomach and touching their toes.

“I’ve watched way too many movies about it, I think we should just beat his ass.”

“You would want that.” Bea quips, “But really…if anything happens,I’ll deal with it.”

“I think he’s just going to be dumb enough and show up when you are with Rooster.” Shells smirked, “Ooohhh, even better, during a time where we are all together.” Beatrice rolls her eyes with a soft laugh, just giving her friend an unimpressed stare, “I’m manifesting that.”

“I don’t think manifestation works like that, Shells.”

“So we can take turns beating his ass.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes one more time, smiling because she knew there was no way she could remove that idea from Shells’ mind right now. She hoped that, whatever was that Eric had planned it’d be resolved without…beating anyone up, if she just had to face Eric alone and tell him to literally ‘get the fuck out of her face’, she’d do it. She also didn’t want to bring anyone else into the mess if there was something going on which there wasn’t any proof besides Shells’ investigative skills. She did tell the blonde to let go of that now, and to not try to find Eric whenever they were out because the paranoia wouldn’t help either of them.

Shells agreed, with a bit of hesitance, when the two of them straightened themselves to continue with the class. Thankfully, Tiff was quick enough to help the brunette forget about her stupid ex beccause today - she forgot about it - was the day they’d try on the heels. Ever since Beatrice’s ligaments healed, Tiff has been careful to let her try the platforms, saying that she should try small until she feels safe enough to use the others.

Well, that was the day, finally. Because Tiff brought a box with different sized platform shoes, heels so high and sharp you could use it as a weapon if you needed to, calling everyone’s names and handing each of them a pair.

When he called Beatrice’s, the tall woman smiled, holding a black vinyl pump with the same heels that could double as an army knife, “There you go, I want you to try it on and slowly try to stand, if you don’t feel safe take them off.” Beatrice nods, holding the pair by the back straps and looking down at Shells who was putting on the transparent heels herself.

Her friend tapped the plastic platforms together,using the pole to push herself upwards and checking her balance, “Okay, it’s not so bad. Do you want me to help you?”

“Yeah, I’m going to sit down and then you can help me up?” Shells nods, crouching next to Bea in those heels made the other woman appear much taller than she actually was. Beatrice toed out her sneakers and socks, pushing them to the side before putting on the shoes. Oh she liked how they made her calves look so long. Her mind was no longer worrying about Eric, it was now thinking of the various possibilities of how she could use these new shoes with Rooster.

Beatrice holds Shells’ hands, flexing her legs as she pulls herself upwards, a sudden fear darting up her spine at the intrusive thought of her twisting her ankle and falling but thankfully it didn’t happen. Bea, who was just a few inches taller than Shells was, practically towered over her blonde friend with those heels on, “How’s it?” she hears Tiff ask, neon pink pumps on her feet clacking as she makes her way over.

Beatrice turns her legs this way and that, checking how the shoe looked on her feet, “It’s nice.” She walked the short distance from the pole to the mirrors and she couldn’t stop looking at her legs. Something about her legs with heels definitely made her feel more confident than normal, “I can walk just fine.”

“Wonderful!” Tiff exclaims clapping her hands twice to call everyone’s attention “Alright, positions everyone!”

Bradley adjusted his bag over his shoulder as he made his way out of the base,waving everyone goodbye and walking over to the Bronco. He however stops when he sees a figure outside, with her arms crossed, smiling at him, “Bea?” he immediately smiles, “Baby, what are you doing here?”

“Shells gave me a ride and I decided to surprise you.” she says, rolling her lower lip in her mouth and admiring Bradley in his usual getup of Hawaiian shirt and jeans. It didn’t matter what he wore, he looked good no matter what and it was absolutely a sin to look that good, “Are you surprised?”

“Hell yeah,” he coos, dropping his eyes down her body, admiring her choice of clothing - a red sweater and skinny jeans that showed the curves in her body beautifully - “I’m really surprised.” he leans down to kiss her lips, cupping her chin tilt her head upwards, “Mm, you are using cherry chapstick? Evil woman.” She laughs against his mouth, then pulls back to hold his hand as they make their way to the Bronco.

“You know, I might need to get you more pants like those.” she says when he walks a bit forward in front of her, dropping her eyes to the perfect outline of his ass under the tight pants. He just laughs, sending her a look over the shoulder through his sunglasses, unlocking the car to let her inside.

“So you can look at me like I am the last piece of candy in a store?” he asks when he gets on the driver’s seat, dropping his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, smiling with his mouth getting closer, “And you want to take a bite out of me?” he was honestly so happy to see Beatrice waiting for him, what a great surprise really, even if they spent the whole weekend together it wasn’t like he didn’t miss her.

Which he did and everyone made fun of him about it but he wasn’t going to lie. That girl got him in her hands and he refused to leave.

“I might.” she giggles, meeting his lips in a sweet kiss that the pilot tried to deepen, “Remember, we are still right in front of the base.” Bradley whines, breaking the kiss with a wet smack, licking his lips to taste more of her cherry chapstick before he adjusted himself on the seat. Rooster turned the bronco on, dropping his hand on Beatrice’s thigh as he drove them away, honestly already making his way over her house without even asking.

Beatrice walked out of the car first, making her boyfriend squint his eyes at how she was acting, that little smile that always drove him insane on those full lips. She unlocks her front door, but waits for him to walk out, biting her lower lip again when he steps out, leaning his arm on the open car door and offering her a confused smirk, “I honestly don’t know what’s happening, but I have a feeling I’ll like it.”

She laughs melodically, opening the door so Jolene rushes out to greet both, slamming her body on the Bronco’s tire in her hurry to meet Rooster outside. The pilot scratched her head with both hands, then picked her up like a baby before they walked back inside, with the brunette gently pushing the door closed, “Okay,” he lowers Jolene to the ground when the pittie started to wriggle in his arms like a giant furry worm “What is that you are planning? Not that I’m upset about it.”

Beatrice smiles from the kitchen, then she crosses her arms “I just missed you.” God, someone stabbed him in the heart because he didn’t deserve her. Bradley tsks, pulling his sunglasses off to hook them on the collar of his shirt. Rubbing his jawline while following her into the kitchen, he waits a few seconds to step closer and hug her from behind.

“Hmmm,I missed you too.” he mutters with his mouth and nose buried in her hair, the lavender scent getting stronger since she probably washed earlier that day, “Is that the only reason?”

Beatrice looks at him over her shoulder, then she turns around in his arms to hug his neck, “I… called Marcus.” Marcus? Who’s Marcus– oh, the photographer. “And well,I wanted to know what he meant.”

Honestly she felt so confident about the heels that morning she just called the photographer’s number while out with Shells for boba.

Beatrice chews the side of her lip, tapping the card on the table outside the boba shop, Shells sipping hers while watching Beatrice with a curious glance, “Is he picking up?” the brunette shakes her head, “Give it a little time.”

Maybe her confidence wasn’t really reliable when it came to that, because it was slipping out of her body like it was sand. She was about to end the call when she hears the phone being picked up, “Marcus Beverly speaking, who is it?”

“Oh um,” she looks at Shells, who gives her a thumbs up for support, “I-I don’t know if you remember me, I um– you were at my friend Evelyn’s apartment, a few weeks ago? Well around December…and you um….offered me a modeling gig.”

“Evelyn’s apartme- oh! My darling muse!” Beatrice cheeks heat up immediately, “Well I am so happy to hear from you, darling! How can I help you? Are you interested in my offer?”

“I…well yes,” she pulls out one of the napkins to rip the corners one handed. “I just, what exactly will I be doing?”

She hears him walking away from an area into another that echoed his footsteps, the sound of sewing machines and clicking of cameras in the background, “Well, you’ll be part of our spring/summer collection, darling. Flowers, nature, reds and greens to bring you the joy of warmer weather.”

“So…bikinis and such?”

“Absolutely, darling. Show the world the beauty you were born in.”

Beatrice heard the voice of doubt repeating words inside her brain, telling her it wasn’t going to work, no one would want to see her body like that…only going silent when another voice, louder than the doubt, countered that someone already liked seeing her body like that. “...I…see…and um, when exactly should I uh…go there?”

“Well, the photoshoot begins February second, so we can work everything to launch the collection by the end of the month.”

“Oh…well…”

“You can visit my studio to see the clothes for yourself, darling. So you won’t be so nervous.”

She will and she’d go with Evelyn if she was able to, “O-Okay, um when can I go?”

“Anytime this week, darling. I’ll let Whitney know you are coming and she’ll let you in. Oh I must go, see you soon!”

“B–Bye.” Beatrice stutters, ending the call and dropping her phone screen first on the table, giving Shells a wide eyed stare, “...I-I think I got the gig.”

“And I just wanted to let you know, that’s all.” he was taking in the information with his eyes unreadable and his mouth closed, he was showing no negative reaction, or positive for that matter…was he upset? Maybe she should’ve talked to him before? But Bradley brought her closer to his chest, kissing her temple.

“Can I go with you?”

Oh.

“Oh um…I…I don’t know? I think I’ll have to talk to him but,” she looks up at him with her eyebrows furrowed, “Would you really want to?”

Bradley shrugs, “Honestly, I’d prefer to go instead of you going alone to meet a random guy you met weeks ago.” oh, God he was so sweet. She’s going to lose her mind.

“I was going to ask Ev to go but…well, I don’t mind if you came along.” she smiles, her cheeks reddening as she leaned up to kiss his lips, smiling against his mouth.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

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catofadifferentcolor · 8 months

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Terrible Fic Idea #62: Hauteville!Nicolò di Genova

My major problem - the one that keeps me from actually writing any of the terrible fic ideas I have - is that I hyperfixate on details. Case in point, I was reading Crusaders by Dan Jones as background for eventual TOG headcanons - and was hit by how much the physical description of Bohemond I of Antioch resembled Nicky. So, naturally, I thought, why not?

Or: What if Nicolò di Genova was the bastard son of that famous crusader, Prince Bohemond I of Antioch?

Bear with me:

Eldest son of the Norman adventurer Robert Guiscard (aka "The Terror of the World"), Bohemond was declared a bastard when his parents' marriage was invalidated and, "discovered that the most reliable way to get ahead in the world was with a sword in one's hand, and he had been blessed with the physicality and family connections to do just that" (55). Alternately described, "a fine figure even among the greatest," "a hero of great stature," and "spiteful, malevolent, deceitful, treacherous, inconstant, greedy, bitter, [and] a congenial liar," even his detractors were forced to admit, "he was magnetically beautiful: tall, broad-chested and handsome, with large hands and a solid stance, captivating light blue eyes and a fair complexion, his hair cut short around his ears and his chin shaved quite smooth, both provocatively out of keeping with a world in which tresses and beards were the usual symbols of machismo" (54).

Naturally, having just finished watching The Old Guard for approximately the eighth time, I thought, who does that sound like? Luckily the timeline seems to work, and thus this headcanon was born.

Just imagine it:

Bohemond was born between 1050 and 1058. If the date was on the earlier side of things (or he was a bit precocious), it's not impossible for him to have fathered a bastard child born c. 1069. The mother is quickly married off to a minor noble in Genoa, earning her child the appellation di Genova.

As a child Nicolò saw little of his father, but was encouraged to follow in his footsteps. He received perhaps the best military education available at the time given his Hauteville relations and proved to be a prodigal swordsman. Unlike his extended male kin, however, Nicky had little desire to carve a principality out for himself.

Given the choice, Nicky would rather join a monastery than a military campaign. There are a variety of reasons for this, ranging from not wanting to be assassinated as a potential rival to a legitimate brother or cousin's throne to monasteries being great centers of learning to genuine religious feeling, but no religious house would dare cross his father or grandfather by allowing him to take holy orders without their permission. Which neither would ever give. Nicky was more useful to them as a knight than an abbot or bishop.

This stalemate goes on for a while, until the First Crusade. Although left behind in Italy to finish the siege of Amalfi in 1097, Nicky was summoned to the Holy Lands by his father after the siege of Antioch to help solidify his new position as prince of the same. Nicky delayed as long as possible, finally sailing to Jaffa in June 1099 with Guglielmo Embriaco to relieve the siege of Jerusalem.

Joe and Nicky kill each other for the first time on night of 14 July 1099, after the outer walls are breached (93). They repeat the process several times through the night, moving further and further away from the city each time. On the morning of 15 July they realize they're soulmates lay down arms, make their way back to the city, and arrive just in time to see the walls of Jerusalem fall.

They each die multiple times trying to protect the innocents caught up in the fighting and it's at that moment they each realize how easily they could fall in love with the other - though neither acts on their feelings until they arrive at Cairo some weeks later, having decided to leave the fighting behind and search the world together for answers to their immortality.

They go from Cairo to Alexandria to Tripoli to Mahdia, moving slowly and staying in each place for months to do research and earn coin for the next leg of the journey.

They are preparing to leave for Algiers when news arrives that Bohemond I has died, leaving the principality of Antioch to his infant son, Bohemond II, under the administration of his nephew Tancred. This should be the one and only moment Nicky has doubts about traveling with Joe, as Nicky considers returning to the Holy Land to protect the half-brother he's never met from those who might take advantage of a young ruler and leverage this guardianship to bring peace to the war-torn region. It is an agonizing night until Nicky realizes he made his decision long ago, and that he'd rather travel with someone who loves him and doing good where they can than fight for a land he's never seen for people who only ever saw him a weapon.

Nicky and Joe continue like this for several more years, going from Algiers to Tangier to Marrakesh to Al-Andalus to Sicily (where Joe finally learns Nicky is a descendant of those Hautevilles), finally making it to Constantinople shortly before the Second Crusade.

Honestly this is where this particular headcanon starts burning out, because I love the idea of Joe and Nicky's lives being shaped by (and shaping) the Crusades and as such is a part of all my headcanons for these two. (That, and Ibn Battuta-like journeys in between, visiting Aden, Mogadishu, and Mombasa before the Third and settling in Constantinople just in time for the Fourth.)

Specific to this headcanon is Nicky's journey being less one of religious deradicalization - though that is part of it - than confrontation of the consequences of his family's actions throughout the Mediterranean. Some part of him will always think that his immortality is necessary atonement for his and his family's sins, though that part grows less as the centuries pass.

Bonuses include: 1) Nicky confronting his cousin Tancred for failing to contain the violence in favor of ransacking the Dome of the Rock (95). Despite feeling betrayed - honestly having thought better of Tancred, - Nicky choses to walk away rather than kill his cousin. Years later, history will somehow mutate this into the basis for Jerusalem Delivered, getting all the important details wrong in the process; 2) Although not his mother tongue, Old Norman is the language Nicky always reverts to when needing particularly strong curse words. He blames his father for this; and 3) His highly annotated original copy of the Alexiad found its way into historians' hands in the 1800s and is considered an important contemporary Italo-Norman reading of the text. There is considerable academic debate as to the annotator's identity, with no one ever having gotten close to the truth.

That's all I really have that's specific to this character background - as I said, a lot of what happens after their first deaths is consistent across TOG headcanons for me. It's just getting them to Jerusalem that fluctuates. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #the old guard #tog #nicolo di genova #headcanon #character backstory #character background #yusuf al kaysani #immortal husbands #origin story

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sushigirlali · 6 months

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Bad Idea Right? - Part I (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I | Part II | Part III (Complete!)

Summary: Rey Niima realizes she may not be over Ben Solo when Hux’s social media posts show her ex-boyfriend is moving on at Poe’s Halloween party. Donning a matching costume purchased before their breakup, Rey decides to stop running and confront him. Horny Halloween hijinks ensue!

Pairings: Rey/Ben, Rose/Hux, Finn/Poe

Continuity: Modern AU

A/N: I wrote the outline for this on my phone with speech to text while stuck in traffic and listening to Olivia Rodrigo 😂 Happy spooky season, rats! I was definitely inspired by some reylo/hellcheer Halloween art I’ve seen recently as well 😛

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr

——————

Bad Idea Right? - Part I

By: sushigirlali

——————

Boston, MA

Friday, October 24

——————

Hey

Haven't heard from you in a couple of months

But I'm out right now, and I'm all fucked up

And you're callin' my phone, you're all alone

And I'm sensin' some undertone

——————

Rey Niima had a problem. Was it a problem of her own making? Perhaps. But it was a problem nonetheless.

After swearing off men and dating and love for the last two months, she was lonely and bored and horny. More specifically, she was horny for her ex-boyfriend Ben Solo. It had been exactly 62 days since their breakup (yes, she had been counting), and every night without him was worse than the last.

The urge to text him was almost overwhelming at times, but she tried to see it as an exercise in control. It made her feel a little better, to have a goal. Even if the goal was to ruin her own life.

Rey blew out an irritated breath, moving her unwashed brown hair away from her face. She really should shower and change after a long day’s work, but she just didn’t care. Flopping down on her bed in an oversized blazer and yoga pants, she wondered whether Ben was thinking about her just then as well. It was hard to focus on things like hygiene and personal needs (beyond what was strictly necessary on a mandatory zoom call) when there wasn’t anyone around to judge you.

“Or praise you,” she thought wistfully, because Ben used to praise her for the tiniest, sweetest things…

Rolling over onto her stomach, crushing the front of her semi-professional blazer, Rey pressed her face into her battered, space-themed comforter and screamed.

——————

And I'm right here with all my friends

But you're sendin' me your new address

And I know we're done, I know we're through

But, God, when I look at you

My brain goes, "Ah"

——————

The breakup had been stupid, really. Or, she was stupid.

Near the end of August, on the date of their four year anniversary, Ben had planned an elaborate scavenger hunt for her through the city. And at the end of the trek, there had been a box and a question.

She could still remember the pain in his dark eyes when she refused him, the slump in his broad shoulders as he balanced on one knee, the quiver of his lips…

Rey pushed her guilt aside and focused on the other ways his lips had made her feel over the years. They were full and plush, with a tendency to hike up on one side when he grinned. And when he kissed her, sometimes she forgot her own name. And when he didn’t stop kissing her until she begged for more, slipping his lips hotly down her cheek, her throat, her breasts, her stomach… Well, she liked those memories most of all.

Stripping out of her house clothes, she tossed them onto an existing pile of dirty clothes by the foot of the bed. Ben would be horrified that they didn’t immediately go into the hamper, but again, he wasn’t around and she just didn’t care. At any rate, it wasn’t like one pile of junk was going to ruin the ambiance of her small, dingy apartment.

Which honestly just felt like another fitting punishment for breaking Ben Solo’s heart. “Not that I could afford anything better on my own,” she lamented, thinking about the mountain of student loan debt she owed.

Shaking her head to clear it, she went back to disrobing, removing her favorite lace bralette and matching panties and tossing them aside as well. She didn’t even know why she’d bothered to keep the very expensive, yet impractical cream ensemble besides years of childhood poverty making her thrifty. It definitely wasn’t because they were a gift from Ben and he loved peeling them off her.

“Don’t think about… actually, no. That works.”

Rey stretched to retrieve her cell phone from the bedside table and navigated through her contacts to the entry entitled “Ben Solo.” Her finger hovered over the call button for a second, the thought of hearing his deep voice again tempting, but she chickened out.

“I really should have deleted his number by now, or blocked him at the very least.” But he hadn’t texted or called in 62 days, and she hated how hopeful it made her that he still could.

Closing her contacts, she opened the files app instead and unlocked a folder titled “Gardening Tips 🍆💦” with an extremely long and complicated password. Biting her lip as sultry images flashed before her eyes, Rey leaned back against her second-hand cotton bedspread, which had been washed so many times that the thin fabric felt like silk against her bare skin.

The first few photos were of Ben’s hands, his long, tapered fingers and calloused palms. Despite his family’s wealth, Ben liked to work with his hands at his firm’s tech lab. He was an engineer, like her, so she understood the need to tinker.

Rey imagined those hands on her body again, running one of her own across her taut stomach to cup one of her small breasts. The pads of her fingers weren’t nearly as rough as his, she usually worked on sketching designs instead of with hard materials, but a picture was worth a thousand words as they say.

“Ben,” she whimpered, flicking through a few more photos before finding some of his face and chest.

He was smiling in a lot of them, something he rarely did around anyone but her, his expression intimate and open. Or, at least, that had been the case when they were…

Zooming in on his chest, she traced the curve of his muscles, the shape of his trim waist, the blush of his nipples, touching herself in each of those locations in turn. But it wasn’t enough.

Backing out into the folder, she skipped down to pictures of his ass, his cock, of them together. “Fuck.” She flushed with arousal at one particular set from the night before they broke up.

Ben was deep inside her, his pubic hairs meshing with hers, his thumb on her clitoris, her body contorted. Every frame showed a different angle of his penetration, from her point of view.

Lifting her knees, she bent her legs toward her chest, trying to mimic the position, before flipping open the camera app and snapping a few new photos. She wanted to recreate the scene, but it was too difficult to hold the filthy position and touch herself at the same time without Ben pressing down on her hips.

Annoyed, she hit the share button and sent off one of the new full frontal nudes to her man before thinking better of it.

Then, “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck!” Scrambling upright, Rey stared at her phone in horror. Ben wasn’t her man anymore and she had no right to send him unsolicited sexts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—FUCK!”

Rey jumped as her screen lit up: Ben was calling her.

——————

Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)

Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

Should probably not

I should probably, probably not

——————

Rey was frozen solid for the first three rings, but on the fourth, she impulsively hit the talk button. Hitting that button meant she’d hear his voice again, it meant he hadn’t blocked her either, it meant…

“Rey?” he said hesitantly, her name from his lips immediately heightening her arousal.

Her jaw worked up and down, but no sound came out. She wanted to respond, to keep him talking, but what could she say? Sorry I haven't called? Sorry I’m such a mess? Sorry I ruined our lives?

“Rey, why did you send me that picture?”

“I–I’m..”

“Are you still naked?” His tone was neutral, but the question still brought heat to her cheeks.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Did you just take that pic? Is that what your pussy looks like right now?” His voice became gruffer.

“Yes.”

“Are you keeping your curls tidy for any particular reason?” He was stern now, or was it jealous? Maybe a bit of both.

“No,” she said, because, “I’ve ignored every other aspect of my hygiene except a biweekly bikini wax in case you ever wanted to eat me out again,” was insane.

“Good girl,” he said warmly.

Praise. Ben was praising her. “Fuck.”

Rey propped herself up on several pillows, put the phone on speaker, and set it on her chest with the microphone facing her mouth. Using one hand to pull her right leg up and back, the other slid between her legs. “Ben, I’m so wet.”

He blew out a breath. “Fuck, Rey. Do you need my help, baby?”

She nodded but then realized he couldn't see her. Clearing her throat, she said, “Yes, please,” very politely.

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled. Then, with more heat, “Are you touching yourself already?”

“Yes.”

“Where? How are you positioned?”

She told him and he groaned. “I’m so turned on, Ben, but it just isn’t the same without…” She cleared her throat. “What should I do?”

“I want you to run your index and middle fingers over your slit,” he commanded.

She did as he said and sighed into the receiver.

“That’s it, baby. Do that until you’re so slick my thick cock could slip in without a hitch.”

She pictured him over her, touching her, fucking her. “Oh, god, I am!”

“You’re doing so good,” he praised. “Now slowly spread your lips and slip your fingers inside.”

“Okay,” she panted, swirling her fingers around her opening before sinking them knuckle deep in her pussy. “They–they're in.”

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Good. Really good. But I wish it was your fingers, Ben, they’re so thick.” Shit. She shouldn’t have said that.

He choked out his next demand, clearly affected by her statement. “Drop your leg, baby, and use your free hand to massage your clit. If I were there with you, I’d keep you open so wide, but you need to use both hands for me.”

“Okay,” she said, the image of him pinning her down with his big body flashing through her mind.

“Now close your eyes,” he murmured. “Are they closed?”

“Yes, Ben.”

“Picture me while you pump your fingers inside your cunt and rub your clit with your other thumb.”

“Ohhhh!” she moaned, doing his bidding. Her sheath clenched around her fingers as he continued to whisper into her ear, telling her how sexy she was, how much he loved this, how good he wanted to make her feel.

“Are your nipples hard?”

“So hard!” She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore, she just wanted to please him.

“Is your pussy dripping all over your sheets?”

“Yes!” she screamed, rubbing, straining, curling and twisting her fingers until a flood erupted between her splayed thighs.

Ben talked her through the blinding orgasm, her first since they had parted, until she calmed several minutes–hours?–later.

“Rey?”

“Hmm?” Rey was breathless, her body tingling and satiated.

“I have to go now.”

Her euphoria shifted into confusion and hurt, which was rich considering he had just helped her get off and asked nothing in return. “Oh, okay. Uh–thank you.” Then, her deep-seeded fear of rejection taking control, she quickly disconnected the call before he could say anything more.

——————

Seein' you tonight, it's a bad idea, right?

Seein' you tonight, fuck it, it's fine

——————

Rey pulled her comforter tighter around naked body, trying to smother out the light streaming through her window. During the excitement last night she had forgotten to pull the blackout curtains closed.

“Ugh,” she grumbled when her phone buzzed a few times in quick succession.

Sticking her hand out of the warm cocoon, she blindly felt around for the device before pulling it back under the covers. Switching the light setting to dim, she read:

Ben: Good morning, sweetheart ❤️‍

Ben: Rey, are we really doing this again?

Ben: I know what it meant to me, but what did last night mean to you?

She sighed her favorite word in lieu of doing anything productive. “Fuck.”

Fiddling with the phone, she started texting him back several times, writing and rewriting a positive message, a negative one, something neutral, but in the end she turned it off without sending anything.

She knew she should respond, that he’d take her silence to mean last night meant nothing, but she was scared. Last night was incredible, he was incredible, and he hadn’t even touched her. Just his voice had reduced her to a quivering mess, bringing back all her memories of them together. Sexual and otherwise.

Rey swore again, frustrated that she hadn’t gotten him out of her system. “It was just one call, idiot. It’s not like you fucked him again.”

But that couldn’t happen. Her dumb heart wouldn’t be able to stand letting him go twice.

——————

Yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect?

"I only see him as a friend, " the biggest lie I ever said

Oh, yes, I know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend, I just tripped and fell into his bed

——————

A/N: I intended for this fic to be a one-shot, but whoops it’s >10K words of feelings and smut. Part II coming tomorrow! Happy All Hallows’ Eve Eve!!

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #kylo ren #ben solo #my fanfiction #sushigirlali #happy halloween rats

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danpuff-ao3 · 1 year

Text

my year in fic - 2022

Thanks for the tag @broomsticks! I've got a compilation list coming out on 12/31 that will feature all of my 2022 accomplishments, but I hope no one minds if I do another fic spotlight for this year! It's always fun to look back at what I managed in a year!

Tagging: @liladiurne, @writcraft, @perverse-idyll, @necromanticnoir, @ripeteeth, @lizzy0305, @likelightinglass, @givereadersahug, @inarticulateimbecile, @fleetingdesires, @bluesundaycake, @cindle-writes, @onbeinganangel, and uhhhh...anyone who wants to! And no pressure to those I've tagged! Just an invitation to join the funsies, if you like! 💖💛

❄️ January

Partygoers - (Snarry, E, 100.) New Years drabble. Harry wants a kiss.

Partygoers laugh and cheer within the manor, sound muffled by the doors. Harry presses Severus against the balcony railing. Leans in. Severus turns his face away. Harry mouths at his neck instead.

Welcome to the Family - (Lucius/Ron, Hermione/Narcissa, Draco/Sirius, Harry/Snape, M, 4k.) Written for Rare Pair Fest 21/22. Valentine’s Day goes from bad to worse when Draco discovers his parents’ secret relationships.

“Calm down, darling,” Narcissa says. “Listen, my love, listen.” Draco would like to tell her he doesn’t need this sort of coddling, except that he does. “Sometimes, when a man and a woman respect each other very much and are in need of an heir, they marry and perform the…necessary physical requirements to produce a pregnancy.”

“Isn’t this supposed to go ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’?” Draco asks.

Narcissa and Lucius share a look.

A Matter of Time - (Snarry, E, 3k.) Written for Snarry Adopt-a-Prompt. Severus is outed as a spy and grievously injured. Harry doesn’t react well, leading those closest to him to wonder: Just why is Harry so devastated about Severus’ condition?

Now that Harry has witnessed Severus’ vulnerability, he is content to be manhandled into Severus’ arms. Harry winds arms and legs — skinny, but strong — around Severus, and tucks his head into Severus’ neck. And as Severus squeezes him in close, Harry wiggles in even closer. Until Severus is unsure where one ends and the other begins. Until he cannot tell his own heartbeat from Harry’s, his own breath.

Harry mumbles three words into Severus neck, that Severus pretends not to hear. Instead he presses his mouth to Harry’s head to stifle untamed sentiment.

9 January 2022 - (Snarry, T, 1k.) Severus turns 62.

Shiny black wrapping paper sits neatly folded on the table. Gold and silver balloons bob over Severus’ head. A stack of sparkly pink candles. Warm, moist spice cake. A cold, snowy day. Silliness and tradition.

And love, a warm glow in Severus’ dark eyes, even as Severus mocks the cake and the mittens and the childish decorations. Harry listens to his eyes, not his words, and he smiles.

smile with sweet surprise - (Snarry, E, WIP.) Updated with chapter 2. Harry is barely sixteen. Had barely blown out his candle when Severus kissed him.

Severus ducks his head and looks down at his boots. Black boots that trampled over the rainbow path. A bit of purple ribbon curls out from beneath his foot. Severus grinds his boot down into it, then kicks it away.

Never again. He’ll never touch Harry again.

Severus steps back and draws his wand to clean the mess they made.

🌹 February

The Alchymist II - (Snarry, Kingco, Snarry/Kingco, E, 4k.) Written for Kinkuary. Sequel to The Alchymist. 2 married couples, 1 hotel room = a lot of fun and a lot of trouble.

Severus is not alone in his jealous nature, but it is his jealousy that has been tested the most. Since their night with Draco, Harry has not strayed beyond casual touches and mild flirtation. Still, it is enough to send Severus up the wall. Every violent, hateful desire in Severus’ soul rises to the surface each time. Wars with his desire, and the pleasure of beauty. And this — Harry touching not one, but two others, is more loathing and arousal than he can stand.

But Severus has been tested time and again. And he accepted long ago the depths of his own madness where Harry Potter is concerned.

Obscene - (Snarry, E, 1k.) Written for Kinkuary. Never has Severus been so wet outside of heat. It’s humiliating; obscene.

Severus didn’t dare look him in the eye, that first night, but he glares into them now. He’d rather be bent over the desk. Would rather not see or be seen, but his pride damns him.

Now he’s cursed by the sight of Potter’s mussed hair and his flushed cheeks. Green eyes darkened by desire. The glint of slick caught in his beard. Mouth reddened and plump.

He dares not blink. Dares not make a sound. Dares not melt into Potter’s touch the way he so longs to. Severus, too, is controlled.

🍀 March

Caged - (Snarry, T, 100.) His arms are a cage.

Snape is unforgiving, even in love. His arms are a cage; the only real home Harry has known.

🐣 April

Fool - (Snarry, G, 100.) Tumblr prompt. Prompt: Snarry + "things you said when you thought i was asleep"

"You're a fool," Severus says. The tone is not so harsh or mocking as it might be by day. It is tender, and sad. Another I love you, unspoken.

Yes - (Snarry, T, 100.) Tumblr prompt. Prompt: things you said when we were the happiest we ever were + snarry

"I want that," Harry continues. "I want to be yours." He steps nearer. Severus' heart leaps. "And I want you to be mine."

Black Skies - (Regulus/Severus, Regulus/Sirius, E, 7k.) Written for Blackcest Fest. Sirius won't give Regulus the love he needs, so he seeks it from Severus instead.

Madness runs in the family, it is said. It has always been in Sirius. Flickers of it in his endless enthusiasm. Sparks of it in his eyes, however easy and cool his smile. The edge of madness in his casual cruelty.

All of his Gryffindor brashness…it is the Black madness at its most evident. The most colorful, wild side to their innate offness.

Sirius is one of them, however well he hides it, and Regulus cannot help but laugh, though he doesn’t think it very funny. Not funny, but thrilling.

While Severus’ passion awakened Regulus, Sirius’ madness calls to him, deep and primal. It’s not a good feeling, really, but a familiar one, and Regulus cannot help but reach out for more.

🌼 May

Orange Blossoms - (Snarry, T, 3k.) Written HP Flowers - Spring Round. Also my gift to myself for my birthday. These are foolish times to have hope, and more foolish still to be in love.

The boy left with less fuss than Severus expected, only to make his move once the sun's disapproving eye set. It is by the moon's mercy Harry leaves love letters in secret languages. Apple blossom and pansy. Fern and foxglove. Myrtle and dahlia.

Severus brews potions in the evenings, nutritional blends to sustain the flowers that now overrun every available surface of his quarters.

Harry never need know the mark he’s made, the beauty and vibrancy with which he’s colored Severus’ life. He’ll never be allowed one foot inside of Severus’ quarters, and Severus will never reveal his heart.

Contempt - (Snarry, E, 20k.) Written for Snarry-a-Thon. Also the best thing I've ever written ever. Harry hates Snape, and he always will. (He will, won’t he?)

Harry doesn't remember much from Defense. Not history or theory or even incantations. Instead he remembers the sweep of Snape's robes and the click of his boots. He remembers the position of Snape's fingers around his wand. The precise motion of his wrist. The shape of his lips around every spell.

He remembers and he hates.

(And wants and hates and wants and hates and wants.)

🥀 September

In My Veins (In My Blood) - (Snarry, Harry/Death Eaters, E, 7k.) Originally meant to be for a fest. Ended up posting on my own when I realized the story I needed to tell wouldn't fit the fest requirements. DEAD DOVE. Voldemort wins the war and rewards the Death Eaters with a prize: Harry Potter. What he doesn't know is that Harry already belongs to one of them.

Fierce green eyes meet gleaming red. Severus dares not breathe. The Dark Lord might do anything; might slip inside his mind and dig up every last secret. He might rip Harry’s mind apart. He’ll turn his wand on Severus then. The light will hardly have gone out of Harry’s eyes by the time Severus joins him in death.

That would be a mercy, really; a blessing.

Instead, Harry and the Dark Lord grin at one another, equally unamused.

Safe - (Snarry, E, 6k.) Updated with chapter 2/final chapter. Dead dove. Harry is sure of a lot of things, until he isn't.

“I’m fine,” Harry says yet again, but he smiles all the same. Turns his head for a kiss that Severus instantly grants. Soft. Tender. Loving. Harry feels like he should be annoyed, but isn’t.

Maybe he does need soft sometimes. And maybe it’s okay to let Severus take care of him. Maybe it’s okay to not be okay. To need this. Severus is happy enough to provide it. And Harry loves his care as much as he loves his cruelty.

Free Falling - (Ginmione, T, 200.) Tumblr prompt. Hermione faces her fear of flying to spend time with Ginny.

They’re falling, falling – she’s falling –

Ginny catches them, pulling out of the dive before they crash into the earth. Hermione burrows her face into Ginny’s neck and huffs out a hysterical giggle.

🕸️ October

Red All Over - (Gwenevera, E, 1k.) Written for Kinktober. It’s that time of the month. You know. The time for sex. OR: Gwenog & Ginny celebrate the Harpies' latest win the best way they know how.

She is flayed open. Freer than she’s ever been. The world is sharp and bright. All of the secrets of her soul exposed, cradled safely between their bodies.

Eventually, Gwen suggests a shower, and Ginny huddles closer in response. She isn’t ready to face reality just yet. Isn’t ready to break this fragile perfection. It takes quiet praise and playful teasing to coax her down to earth. But it is Gwen’s deft fingers dancing down her ribs that finishes the job. Ginny yelps and jerks up to slap Gwen’s arm. Gwen only laughs and tugs Ginny back down.

Blue Velvet - (Snarry, Snarryus, 3k.) Written for Kinktober. Snarryus is Harry/Scorpius/Severus btw. Please forgive my undying love for portmanteaus. Scorpius wants Harry. Harry wants Scorpius. All Severus wants is for Harry to be happy (damn him.)

They are priceless luxury. Their radiance calls to Severus’ greed. The heat of his arousal does not touch the cold within. Severus touches himself, and hates himself.

Stop. Don’t. He should have put an end to this farce before it began. Harry is his, body and soul; it matters not how lovely and lovable his toy is.

Of course Harry wants him. Look at him. One taste will not be enough. But this is as much punishment as gift. Let Harry have his desires, and ruin all they’ve built. Let the blond slut wreck their lives. This is the price of Harry’s covetousness; the price of Severus’ possession.

Chain Reaction of Countermoves - (Snarry, E, 2k.) Written for Kinktober. Sequel to last year's Kinktober fic Clandestine Meetings & Stolen Stares. Harry’s had enough detentions with Headmaster Snape, hasn’t he? Now he has to meet him after graduation, too? Or: Graduation doesn’t come soon enough, but come it does.

“You didn’t bring me here for a drink,” Harry tells him, and snatches the bottle as Severus reaches for it.

“I didn’t bring you here at all,” Severus mutters darkly.

Harry snorts. A case of semantics won’t distract Harry, not now. Too far he’s come, too long he’s waited. The words that have clogged his throat all year burst forth — for a moment his mouth is overfull, and clumsy, so accustomed to holding back, and so afraid to confess — but the dam finally breaks, and he says, “You know I love you, don’t you?”

#my year in fic 2022 #danpuff fics #danpuff writes #snarry #rare pairs #cw incest #cw dead dove #tag game

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helenadurazzo · 5 months

Text

Ranking Taylor Swift Songs

1. Enchanted

2. Haunted

3. Picture To Burn

4. Better Than Revenge

5. Mr Perfectly Fine

6. Don’t Blame Me

7. Wildest Dreams

8. Getaway Car

9. Timeless

10. London Boy

11. Story Of Us

12. Love Story

13. Mine

14. Long Live

15. Forever and Always

16. Sparks Fly

17. Cruel Summer

18. Our Song

19. The Way I Loved You

20. Bejeweled

21. Dear John

22. The Last Time

23. Now That We Don’t Talk

24. All Too Well

25. Lavender Haze

26. Wonderland

27. Out Of The Woods

28. White Horse

29. Should’ve Said No

30. The Man

31. The Last Great American Dynasty

32. August

33. Long Story Short

34. Fearless

35. Back To December

36. Hey Stephen

37. Message In A Bottle

38. Safe and Sound

39. New Romantics

40. Karma

41. End Game

42. Look What You Made Me Do

43. Exile

44. Welcome To New York

45. Electric Touch

46. Delicate

47. A Place In This World

48. Mean

49. Change

50. I Almost Do

51. I Bet You Think About Me

52. Willow

53. Paper Rings

54. Fifteen

55. Blank Space

56. Style

57. Snow On The Beach

58. Never Grow Up

59. Breathe

60. Castles Crumbling

61. Ours

62. Anti Hero

63. Marjorie

64. It’s Nice To Have A Friend

65. Bad Blood

66. Lover

67. Cardigan

68. Cornelia Street

69. Labyrinth

70. Holy Ground

71. Treacherous

72. You Need to Calm Down

73. Never Getting Back Together

74. 22

75. I Knew You Were Trouble

76. The Best Day

77. I’m Only Me When I’m With You

78. I Can See You

79. Midnight Rain

80. You’re Not Sorry

81. Gorgeous

82. Seven

83. Mirrorball

84. Afterglow

85. Daylight

86. The 1

87. Red

88. I Did Something Bad

89. You’re On Your Own Kid

90. Great War

91. Me

92. This Is Me Trying

93. State of Grace

94. Invisible

95. The Outside

96. You Belong With Me

97. Teardrops On My Guitar

98. Untouchable

99. Today Was a Fairytale

100. Tell Me Why

101. Mary’s Song

102. Tim McGraw

103. Superman

104. Speak Now

105. That’s When

106. Gold Rush

107. No Body No Crime

108. Right Where You Left Me

109. My Tears Ricochet

110. Superstar

111. Don’t You

112. Jump Then Fall

113. Bye Bye Baby

114. I Know Places

115. Ivy

116. Is It Over Now

117. I Think He Knows

118. Cold As You

119. Last Kiss

120. You All Over Me

121. Say Don’t Go

122. Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

123. I Don’t Want To Live Forever

124. Shake It Off

125. Tolerate It

126. Maroon

127. Champagne Problems

128. Mad Woman

129. Tis The Damn Season

130. Starlight

131. The Other Side Of The Door

132. Come In With The Rain

133. You’re Losing Me

134. Invisible String

135. Illicit Affairs

136. Everything Has Changed

137. A Perfectly Good Heart

138. We Were Happy

139. Babe

140. Suburban Legends

141. Stay

142. The Very First Night

143. Wish You Would

144. Bigger Than The Whole Sky

145. Ready For It

146. Come Back Be Here

147. Closure

148. Mastermind

149. Sweet Nothing

150. Sad Beautiful Tragic

151. Stay Beautiful

152. The Lucky One

153. Begin Again

154. Girl At Home

155. Nothing New

156. Better Man

157. Miss Americana and the HBP

158. Paris

159. Question

160. Ronan

161. Forever Winter

162. Tied Together With A Smile

163. The Moment I Knew

164. Betty

165. Hoax

166. Coney Island

167. Clean

168. Call It What You Want

169. New Years Day

170. False God

171. King of My Heart

172. How You Get The Girl

173. You Are In Love

174. High Infidelity

175. Innocent

176. Foolish One

177. Death By A Thousand Cuts

178. This Love

179. So It Goes

180. The Archer

181. The Lakes

182. Dear Reader

183. Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

184. I Forgot That You Existed

185. Dancing With Our Hands Tied

186. Dorothea

187. When Emma Falls In Love

188. Run

189. It’s Time To Go

190. Cowboy Like Me

191. Glitch

192. Dress

193. Peace

194. Epiphany

195. Soon You’ll Get Better

196. Evermore

197. Happiness

198. Slut

199. Vigilante Shit

200. Stay Stay Stay

#tried to put every song on here #probably forgot one though #so if I did just comment #Taylor Swift #Fearless #Speak Now #Red #1989 #Reputation #Lover #Folklore #Evermore #Midnights #Taylor Swift Songs #Swifities #taylor’s version

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robertdowneyjjr · 2 years

Note

Heyy, if you're still taking the kiss prompts can I ask for 62 and/or 63! :)

hi, sorry for the late response! i'm gonna go with 63:

"people kiss each other all the time, doesn't mean there's feelings involved."

---

They're spooned up together in bed after cleaning up and getting ready for bed when Steve breaks the silence by mumbling unintelligibly into Tony's neck.

"Hmm? What was that?" Tony asks, turning around in Steve's arms to face him.

"I said, the rest of the team is going to be completely insufferable about this."

Tony furrows his brows, unsure where Steve is going with this.

"What do you mean? Why?"

"Come on," Steve sighs, exasperated. "You have to know that they've been betting on how long it would take for us to get together."

"Oh, yeah, that." Tony shrugs. "Well we can't really do much about it, can we? We're finally together now. I'm really, really happy about this," he says, running a hand through Steve's hair.

Steve closes his eyes at the gentle tugging, humming softly in agreement.

"So am I. But don't you think it'll be funny to mess with them just for a little bit?"

Tony pulls back, intrigued by Steve's tone that he's secretly patented as the Steve-Rogers-is-a-little-shit voice.

"Alright, I'm game. What did you have in mind?"

---

The next morning, they arrive at breakfast separately. Steve gets there first as usual after a run and a shower, with Tony showing up twenty minutes later just after Clint has taken a seat at the island with a bowl of cereal in hand. He sits down next to Bruce, wrinkling his nose at his science bro's cup of camomile tea as he goes. Steve sets down Tony's favorite mug filled with his favorite brew in front of him and smiles at him sweetly, softly stroking his cheek just once before turning back to the burner.

This does not go unnoticed by the rest of the team.

Throughout the rest of breakfast, the two share soft smiles between their bites of food, feet brushing against each other under the table.

At one point Steve's toes accidentally (on purpose) brush against Natasha's leg, but she doesn't comment on it.

---

For the rest of the week, Steve and Tony mess with the team by blatantly acting like a couple while never confirming the actual status of their relationship. As far as the team can tell without either of them saying anything, they've just suddenly become a lot more physical with their affection while still living in denial. They know that the betting pool is worth at least a thousand bucks, and they're not going to make it easy for any of them to win that money.

They show up to team meetings hand in hand and sit side by side, Steve doodling on Tony’s arm and Tony whispering in Steve’s ear, the two of them giggling softly amongst themselves. They hog the loveseat during movie night, but are snuggled so close together that another person could fit in there easily. They say goodbye in the mornings with soft kisses on the cheek or forehead, followed with “I’ll see you tonight, gorgeous” and spend the rest of their days smiling cheek to cheek.

Through it all, it’s clear that their teammates are vibrating out of their skin with the need to ask and confirm whether they’ve started dating, but hilariously enough, no one dares to actually come right out with their questions.

It all comes to a head late on Saturday night, when Steve and Tony are returning home from a date. They’re wrapped up in each other, Steve bracketing Tony against the corner of the elevator, enthusiastically making out without a care for anything else in the world. The elevator comes to a stop on the communal floor without either of them noticing, and it isn’t until they hear someone clear their throat that they stop to take a look at the person who’s so rudely disturbed them.

Clint and Natasha stare back at them with matching smirks on their faces.

“Finally!” Clint exclaims, raising both ands up in celebration. “About time you guys finally start dating!”

Steve turns towards them fully, putting on the most innocent expression he can muster, and asks, “What makes you think we’re dating?”

Clint is gobsmacked by this question, evidently confused that it’s even something that Steve had to ask. “Isn’t it obvious? You guys have been all over each other all week. All the handholding and goodbye kisses and cuddling and smiling. You were literally just making out in the elevator!”

At that, Steve’s face morphs into an expressionless mask and he says, deadpan, “People kiss each other all the time, doesn’t mean there’s feelings involved.”

He presses the door close button on the panel and just as the elevator doors slide completely shut on Clint’s dumbfounded gaping and Natasha’s narrowed eyes, Steve turns back to Tony and presses their lips together hard, drawing a moan from the other man.

---

Clint stares at the closed elevator doors. “They’re fucking with us. They have to be, right?”

“Definitely.”

“You gotta help me think of a way to get them to admit it, Nat. We need this for the bet.”

“Hmm.” Natasha turns towards the stairwell to head up to her room. “I think we’re just gonna have to let this one go.”

#nat walking in on them the next day: ‘kissing without feelings again boys?’#steve: ‘tony was choking. i was doing cpr’#‘choking on what steve’#*mumble mumble*#‘sorry say that again?’#‘…my dick’#my boys are very very stupid #anyway the gist is #steve enjoys screwing with the team and tony enjoys screwing steve #stevetony #kay writes things #anonymous #ask

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bradleybonkbradshaw · 2 years

Note

62 or 78 (or BOTH in one????)

Hello again,

So, um, I went with the both in one route and -- well...

Enjoy 😳

Warnings: cockwarming, semi-public sex, cum swallowing

Bob isn't sure how he found himself behind a desk at Top Gun - or, he does but, at the same time - it makes no sense, yet here he is anyway. Pushing paper. He's as good at it as he is at being a WSO, he was always flexible like that, that's for sure.

Having said that, he's not having the most productive day. He's tired, the gooey, pleasant kind, the kind of tired that comes with being treated right. The muscle - if not bone deep - ache that comes after a night spent with Jake Seresin for the first time in several months

A night that neither of them had wanted to end, apparently. Not today.

Jake is stashed under his desk tucked in the corner that's mostly concealed by a piece of wood across the back that almost reaches the floor and spans half the desk. It's ideal with the way that Bob sits on an angle anyway, his laptop diagonal across the back right hand corner; unless someone goes looking, Jake's not visible.

Bobs cock has been in Jakes mouth for over an hour under instruction to be good, and he is. He’s being so good. Despite how affected he is, Jake makes a conscious effort not to purposely tease; his tongue moves on instinct to swallow, his breathing is deep and even – forcing himself to stay calm – eyes closed, though Bob can see how active Jake really is under his eyelid. Is it any wonder he starts to get hard?

After a while it becomes all he can think about, it may seem ridiculous to say he knows how Jake feels but he does, the restraint it takes not to say words that he knows will release Jake from his faux calm state and have Bob coming down his throat in a few minutes – he gets it.

The harder he gets in Jakes mouth, the more Jake starts to squirm, to lose his façade of calm. He starts making little noises in the back of his throat, every one of them running straight through Bob like a bolt of electricity and only helping to escalate the situation further.

Bobs hand slides under the desk and into Jakes hair, fingers burying themselves at his crown and tightening. Jakes tongue pushes up in response, sliding along the sensitive skin in his mouth when he pushes it back down again. Bob pushes the pad of his thumb onto the nib of his pen in an effort to ground himself, to not swear aloud – too loud. Another five minutes and Bob really is losing his mind; his hips start to rock of their own accord and the next time he takes a look, Jake’s eyes are open and meeting his gaze head on, if he could smile, he’s sure he would be because he’d known all along it was only a matter of time.

“Touch yourself,” he tells Jake, quiet, demanding, smiling when Jakes eyes slip closed, and his hand moves to the slacks he has on to unbutton them and pull himself out. “Don’t come.”

Jake makes a pathetic noise, squeezes firmly at the base of his own cock, and tightens his lips around Bobs. Bobs head drops back onto the rest of the chair, unable to keep the soft groan in.

That’s when there’s a knock at the door, two sharp taps, they don’t wait to be told to come in.

He'd been waiting for this.

It’s Bradley who walks in, a small smile on his face at first that flits into something else when he takes in Bobs appearance. Because of course Bob is looking a little dishevelled at this point. He’s flushed, his glasses halfway down his nose since he keeps having to push them up against the sheen of sweat making them slide down, his hair has fallen out of place, his top button undone.

“You’re not getting sick are you, Bobby?” He asks, in place of a greeting, worry immediately taking over as is the norm with him.

Bob smiles, and shakes his head, despite the way it feels too heavy for his neck.

“’m fine, promise.” He says, though his voice cracks, and Bradley looks a little more suspicious, but Bob carries on, clearing his throat in an effort to pull himself together.

“How’d it go today?”

“It’s gonna be a close one this year,” Bradley looks lost in thought, sitting down on the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Yeah? Who’s it gonna be?”

“Can’t call it,” Bradley shakes his head looking down at his knees and shrugs. “When do you get off?”

Bob thinks the clench of Jakes mouth at the question is the same amusement that runs through him and has to hide both the amusement and the arousal by burying his face in his hand to cough.

“Soon-“ he answers, voice a little rougher than normal, another soft constriction around his cock, “ but you know, I could always get you off right here, right now.”

Bradley takes a sharp, loud intake of breath.

“Bobby—”

Bob tucks two fingers under Jakes chin and pulls gently to lift him off, replacing his mouth with his own hand, pushing his head in Bradleys direction. Jake goes, crawling on legs that are probably dead with pins and needles, appearing at Bradleys feet a second later, tugging at the button and zipper on his pants, and with a practiced ease takes his already stirring cock into his mouth.

“Holy fuck…” Bradley groans, both words vowels elongated, letting his hips slide down the chair some, “how long as he been like this?” He rasps, fingers finding the shorter hair at the back of Jakes neck.

“Almost two hours, he did so good.” They both watch the way Jake reacts, a shudder down his spine.

Apparently, he really starts to work Bradley at that point too, the other man checks out, his free hand clutching at the arm rest of the chair, eyes shuttering closed, hips wriggling minutely.

“God, look at him, anyone would think he hadn’t eaten lunch this afternoon,”

Bradley lets out a sharp laugh, interrupted by the loud suck that Bob hears.

“Fuck—” Bradley chokes, “Jake, baby—” he looks over to make eye contact with Bob.

Bobs eyes are struggling to stay open, the slow twist and pull motion of his hand dragging him closer to the edge, holding on by a thread.

"Go on, baby, make him come." Bob meant to sound a little more put together, firmer, but watching thebline of Bradleys neck and his chest heave, watching the curve of Jakes back as he rolls his entire body, sinking down on Bradleys cock, pulling back up and rocking his own hips into his hand and repeat, it has Bob sounding breathless and completely ruined. "Give it to him, Bradley, he deserves it." He sighs at Bradley too.

It seems to work, the noise in the room solely the clicks and glugs of Jakes throat, noisy swallowing and breathy moans.

He gives them a minute, lets Bradley shower Jake with attention and praise,bent awkwardly but uncaring, a mouth on his ear and a hand on his cock, replacing Jakes own.

Jake mewls, burying his head in Bradleys shoulder, nodding at whatever was just said. It makes Bradley smile.

Bob pushes his chair away from his desk, waits for Bradley to nod;

"C'm'ere, sweetheart," he croons, even more of a drawl to it.

Jake turns around and ducks under the desk; he's spacier, messy, his eyes glassy. Though his cock is an angry shade of red, he looks like he might purr.

Bob swallows down a noise, takes the back of Jakes neck in hand when he's in reaching distance, the other hand thumbing at his chin, a silent plea for him to open up. He rests the tip of his cock on Jakes bottom lip, watches his eyes close and his lips tick up in a small smile, then pulls at his own cock obscenely.

Even with Bradley and Jake there it's not for show, it's for him; quick and filthy and he's coming in Jakes mouth in seconds, thighs tensing, rocking Jake sightly.

Jakes mouths closes around the tip as he swallows, Bob gasping as he takes the opportunity to run his tongue over the slit and clean him up, letting go before it gets painful.

Theres an awed whistle from the other side of the desk.

"Bobby, where do you get these ideas?" Bradley asks.

Bob hums.

"This was all Jake."

Send more but i'll keep writing them anyway

#shush chloe #chloe writes smut prompts #floydsinshaw #dont percieve me for the next 48 hours #lmao this was my 500th post #hooraaaay 😭🥴

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