#and the final third is people referring to me as 'this one' 'the girl' 'the (adjetive)'

[mxwhore]

BEGONE! URGE TO ANTAGONIZE MY GRANDMA, BEGONE!

[scribendis]

𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐞𝐚

Daemon Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, profanity, these two are SO horny, dirty talk, p in v sex, size kink ish, breeding kink ish, just a little bit of throat grabbing Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~5,100

Summary: Mere months after their wedding, Daemon left his young bride to join the War in the Stepstones. His victory and subsequent return to King's Landing three years later meant that his wife would never spend another night alone in their bed.

A/N: I hope all my Daemon girls out there enjoy! This one's dedicated to you! Also, this is barely proofread and not beta'd. Lordy help me. Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link | Wattpad link

Mini HV glossary for ~future reference: ābrazȳrītsos - little wife ñuha dōna - my sweet issa - yes

Prince Daemon Targaryen had not been her father’s first choice of husband for her. It had, in fact, been the lord’s intention to marry her - his youngest child and only daughter - to King Viserys following the death of his queen. The prospect of such an arrangement brought her immense pride, for her house would benefit greatly from the wealth and status that would follow. But, by the time their wheelhouse finally passed through the gates of King’s Landing, the marriage between the king and Lady Alicent Hightower had already been set in stone. 

The king had thus suggested that she wed his younger brother instead, a prospect that her lord father balked at at first. Prince Daemon’s reputation certainly preceded him. No man called the “Rogue” anything had any right to take his precious daughter to wife. But when the Rogue Prince placed a wreath of flowers on her head and proclaimed her the Queen of Love and Beauty upon winning the tourney held in celebration of the king’s wedding, her betrothal to him was all but assured. 

She allowed herself to be wooed by him and his devilish smile, feeling herself falling harder and harder for him each time she caught his gaze from across rooms and banquet tables. There could be one hundred people between them and their eyes would always seem to find one another. His, more often than not, studied far more than her pretty face, trailing downward to her ample breasts or the curve of her waist. 

She had been told that Daemon was no great lover of dancing, but he offered his hand to her during every occasion that had musicians in attendance. And that hand found itself, more often than not, wandering dangerously past her hips as they moved about the dance floor. She was blissfully unaware of the fact that the prince would fuck his fist each night afterward at the thought of the places his hands had touched and what they might look like once he tore her clothes from her body. 

It was no wonder, then, that Daemon made certain that she fulfilled her wifely duties as soon as they were wed. He was barely able to make it through their wedding feast without whisking her away to finally claim her. But that night, he ensured that the entire Red Keep knew exactly whose wife she was.

In those first days of their marriage, she felt that she hardly left their marriage bed. When her presence was required at court, she walked with such an ache in her thighs and between her legs that she wished she could lounge about in bed all day. Each morning, without fail, their shared chambers still held the warm, musky scent of their coupling from the night before. It lingered on the sheets and on her skin throughout the day, only encouraging her husband’s desires further once he returned to her side. 

But their time together, it turned out, would be short lived. She and Daemon had hardly been married for three moons before Lord Corlys Velaryon’s invitation to join his house in the War for the Stepstones brought him hundreds of leagues away from her. Daemon could not refuse, for the potential glory of battle - his greatest chance to prove his worth to the realm - was a far more alluring prize than even his beautiful new wife. The kiss goodbye he gave her before climbing on the back of his dragon tasted bitter on her tongue.

She did not see her lord husband for three years. Life at court became a lonely thing. She was without children to care for or a husband to tend to. What she had was a husband whose actions in the Stepstones seemed to ripple all the way back to the Red Keep. To her. Slowly but surely, she watched her image deteriorate from that of a prince’s wife to that of a social pariah. How ashamed she must have been of her husband, the other ladies would whisper when they thought she was not listening - and, sometimes, when they knew that she was. 

Their shunning of her only worsened as news continued to trickle in about the rising victory of the Triarchy. She would sometimes linger outside of the Small Council chambers and trail after Ser Tyland Lannister in search of any information he had regarding her husband. Toward the end of the war, none of his news was good. She had come to accept that she would awake any day now a widow at the tender age of one and twenty. 

Until the morning that her maidservant burst through her door and all but shook her awake, uttering what, to her, was a garbled mess of words in her half-asleep state. But she did process enough to know one thing: Daemon had been spotted returning to King’s Landing. 

She rarely wore the colors of her husband’s house, opting instead for her own house colors. But today, as she followed the crowd into the throne room, she wore a striking dress of blood red the same hue as her husband’s dragon, Caraxes, and a necklace of rubies to match. Today, she was once again a Targaryen bride. 

She caught the eyes of some of the women who had spent the last three years lambasting her for her husband’s deeds. For his failures. She barely regarded them as she pushed past, her head held high and a smirk painting her lips. But, briefly catching the shocked look on Lord Beesbury’s wife, which somehow made the old woman look even more like a pigeon than she already did, she felt validation run warm through her veins. This would stop their wagging tongues.

In her place near the front of the throne room, she and everyone else watched Daemon approach the king. She had hoped but not suspected that he would find her among the crowd, so when his eyes flickered to her for a fleeting moment, she felt warmth radiate down her entire spine. 

Though he had looked away to address his brother, she did not take her eyes off of him for even a second. His silvery-blonde hair, now cut short, gave her an admirable view of his face and neck. Though obviously kissed by the sun, his skin also bore other changes. Forehead creases and other new wrinkles, likely from frowning or stress or both. A mottled, pink scar painted the right side of his neck and disappeared below his armor. She dreaded to think about just how far it went and how many others lay beneath his clothes. 

Truthfully, their time together before his departure had been so brief that she could not quite put her finger on all of the ways in which the war had changed him physically. From where he stood, the light pouring in from one of the high windows behind him highlighted a small scar just beside his right eyebrow. Did he have that before? She could not remember just now.

There would be plenty of time for her to relearn her husband’s body anew, just as he would hers. She did not realize how lonely a place the marriage bed could be with her husband so far away for so long. All she could hope was that he would still find her pleasing after their years apart.

Their reunion, it seemed, would have to wait, for the king was eager to whisk Daemon away from the eyes of the court following his return. Her disappointment meant little when measured against the wishes of the king, even though the ache in her heart felt all too real as she watched the brothers ascend the steps out of the throne room. 

She fielded several congratulatory remarks and other words of praise for her husband from those around her - the very same individuals who had spent years speaking naught but ill about him, whether to her face or behind her back. But she had known all along that Daemon would prove them wrong. 

The dispersing crowd soon filtered out of the throne room, with some individuals most assuredly sharing whispered words of gossip with their neighbors and others simply wondering when the celebratory feast would be held. She was one of the last to exit the room, a dizzying mixture of anticipation, relief, and disappointment churning in her stomach. 

So when a hand caught her by the throat and another by her upper arm as she ascended the stone steps into the hallway, she was taken completely by surprise. She hardly had time to let out a frightened gasp before a familiar voice breathed into her ear.  

“Will you not welcome the prince home from war, my lady?”

Her fear washed off of her just as quickly as it had come. Heaving a sigh, she smiled. “Daemon.” 

He turned her on the spot so they were face to face, his hand moving to hold her by the nape of her neck so she could not pull away. But she would not have done so even if he had not held her in such a way. 

“Gods, you scared me,” she continued. If he could only feel the way her heart was racing in her breast at his little stunt.

His bottom lip stuck out in a feigned pout. “And here I thought my dear wife would be excited to see me.” He placed his forefinger beneath her chin to tilt her face upward, his violet eyes studying the planes of her face as though he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

“She is.” 

A satisfied grin tugged at Daemon’s lips at the warmth of her remark, though he did not release her from his embrace. Rather, he pulled her closer and leaned down to claim her lips for the first time since his departure. To kiss him felt so familiar, yet also like a distant dream of a time long past. He allowed his lips to linger, savoring the moment as though they did not have dozens of onlookers watching them. 

“Should you not be with the king?” she murmured against his lips but felt him smirk.

“I have had to look at my brother’s ugly face since before I can remember,” Daemon replied, running his hand down the length of her spine until it came to rest in the small of her back. “I would rather have a moment alone with my pretty wife.”

That he had forgotten her or, at least, his burgeoning feelings for her during his years in the Stepstones had been a great worry of hers. He had been all too enthusiastic to leave her side and partake in the war to begin with. She often thought that, should he return one day, the two of them would be no more than strangers to one another. That whatever spark that had ignited between them in the early days of their marriage would have long since burned out.

But she recognized the look in his eyes as they roamed her face and continued downward, along the exposed line of her collarbone and shoulders before going even further. They ravaged her form as they had on all those evenings both before and after they were wed. He was entranced by the way her crimson gown enhanced her womanly shape. No doubt, he was toying with the thought of tearing it from her body right here and now, and reclaiming what was his for the entire court to see.

The mere prospect of such an act sent heat rushing through her lower stomach that pooled between her legs. She hadn’t worn her smallclothes beneath her gown today, remembering how tedious her husband had always found the extra barrier to be. He would have discovered that, if only he would have taken her by the hand and led her to their quarters. 

“You heard what I told my brother,” Daemon continued, his breath feather soft and warm on her cheek. “About the title they bestowed upon me in the Stepstones.”

“King of the Narrow Sea,” she whispered, feeling her mouth go dry as she watched the violet of his eyes become consumed by black. “But… you gave your crown to His Grace.”

Daemon clicked his tongue as he would in disappointment at a child. “Would my wife not have me be her king?”

Gods, she began to ache with need at such a question. She knew he noticed every flutter of her eyelashes, every rise and fall of her breast, every lick of her lips. He was an animal playing with its food, enjoying the act of teasing her. Testing her to see if she had missed him. 

“She would.” Her reply came out hoarsely, which only made the wicked smile on his lips widen further.

“And that would make you my queen,” he cooed as their noses brushed against one another. “Queen of the Narrow Sea.” His thumb moved slowly along the line of her jaw until it found the soft spot just beneath it where her pulse was hammering against her throat and pressed lightly.

She swallowed hard. “Queen of… of rocks and crabs and sand,” she said in jest, a paltry attempt at distracting herself from the now unbearable ache between her thighs. 

Daemon chuckled shortly. “But my queen nonetheless.” His lips moved to her ear to deal their final blow. “Do not think that I have forgotten the sweet sounds of your moans, ābrazȳrītsos,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble like that of a dragon’s echoing throughout the Dragonpit. “Or the even sweeter taste of your cunt.”

She could not stay the soft whimper that fell from her lips. Her body practically trembled with unfulfilled need - three years of it. What a devil her husband was for inflicting such torment on her, and in clear view of every nobleman and servant who walked past. 

And he was even worse for withdrawing from her completely and regarding her with a saccharine grin, though the dark lustfulness in his eyes belied his sudden pleasantry.

“My brother unfortunately demands my company just now, ñuha dōna, but rest assured…” He looked her up and down hungrily once more before stepping around her in a single languid step. “I shall be treating you like a queen tonight.”

Her eyes scanned the page of the open book that was draped across her lap, but the words may as well have been written in Lhazareen. She had gone over this page a dozen times but retained nothing, plagued by thoughts of her husband as she was. 

The sun had long since set and here she sat, alone, by the fire waiting for him. Of course, the king was not to be denied his brother’s presence and she knew that Daemon was certainly basking in the attention and praise that was being showered on him. But she would still hold him to his promise.

Having given up on her paltry attempt at reading, she rose. Her bare feet carried her restlessly back and forth across the cool flagstone floor of the bedchambers that her husband had not slept in for three long years. With every turn, her eyes flitted to the door as though she could will it open with her mind alone.  

“Seven hells, Daemon,” she sighed. 

She had not sated her own desire after her husband had left her wanting earlier, so the anticipation of their reunion this evening had only continued festering inside her throughout the day. It gnawed at her now, an itch that only he could scratch. 

What could she do to prepare for him, she wondered? There was no use in changing into a nightgown that would only end up on the floor. She had no wish to drink herself into a haze that would rob her of the pleasures of their lovemaking. In the end, she decided to perch herself before her vanity and remove the jewels adorning her neck, ears, and fingers. They would only get in the way.

It was when she dipped her head to unclasp her necklace that she heard the heavy wooden door push open. Her eyes immediately snapped to the mirror in front of her, only to see her husband already leaning against the far wall, admiring her. The mere sight of his lips curled into a half smirk was enough to send a rush of heat through her lower belly.

“Do you require assistance with that, ābrazȳrītsos?”

Daemon did not wait for an answer before he pushed himself away from the wall and sauntered over to her. Sneakily placing something on the cushion beside her, he took his place behind her and lifted his hands to remove her necklace. 

“Red was always so becoming on you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, admiring the color of the rubies against her skin before carelessly tossing the necklace onto the vanity. “You were destined to be a Targaryen bride.”

Her eyes fell closed as she felt his lips move downward to press to her neck. “Yes, I think I was.”

“Keep your eyes closed.” His words were a soft hum against her skin. “I have something to give you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. With her eyes closed, she could hear the rustle of his tunic as he turned. Smell the sweet aroma of wine on his breath. Feel the warmth of his arms enveloping her. Then, there was the cool touch of metal on her forehead and the sudden weight of something in her hair. His fingers gathered the long strands of hair that she had already unbraided and brushed, pulling them to one side of her neck. Once again, his lips found her ear.

“Open.”

She found her image in the mirror again and beheld his gift to her. A circlet cast in what she assumed was Valyrian steel with glittering rubies mounted along the front of the band. It fit her head perfectly and complemented the color of her hair in a way that no other accessory ever had before. When she reached a hand up to touch it, Daemon caught her fingers and brought them to his lips.

“Oh, it’s beautiful…” she breathed. The smile that lit up her features elicited one of his own. “This is what kept you, isn’t it?”

A look of pride flashed in his eyes. “My queen deserved a crown.”

She turned around in her chair to face him, her smile gone and her brow furrowed. The gesture was a lovely one, but it would be an insult to Queen Alicent for her to ever wear this publicly. And she had already spent the last few years as an outcast at court; she would never take risk worsening the others’ view of her. “Daemon, I-I couldn’t possibly wear this. Not at court…”

“Then wear it for me,” he crooned, slowly smoothing his hands along the warm skin of her exposed shoulders. “And nothing else.”

She couldn’t bear it any longer or deny her burning need for him. He could ask anything of her and she would submit. He had her in the palm of his hand and he knew it. 

“How… how do you say ‘queen’ in High Valyrian?” Her voice was but a breath, trembling and full of lasciviousness.

Daemon smiled crookedly. “Dāria.” His thumb brushed across the spot on her neck where he could feel her hammering pulse, just as it had earlier. “Ñuha dāria.”

She knew enough of his mother tongue to know what that meant. 

My queen.

“And ‘king?’” Her throat felt painfully dry, now.

He leaned forward, his gaze reflecting a mixture of playfulness and possessiveness. “Dārys.”

She watched as what little was left of violet in his eyes was overtaken by the black of his pupils. His hand at the side of her neck squeezed slightly. His nostrils flared. And, all the while, he wore the same half-smirk on those lips of his that she wanted to kiss every last inch of her. 

“Say it,” he growled.

“Ñuha dārys.”

Their lips crashed together in a devouring kiss far more passionate than the one they had shared in the hall that afternoon. Daemon easily lifted her into his arms and bore her toward their bed, just as he had on the night that they were married. He did not break their kiss for even a second, not to breathe or to utter soft words of yearning and love. They had so much lost time to make up for and tonight would only be a start.

With barely any care for the intricately sewn gold buttons that trailed down the back of the dress, his hands began to rip the garment open. He tore at the red fabric with the ferocity of a beast while his tongue danced with hers. They were caught in a swirling storm of desire and longing, heat and passion - and they were perfectly content to let it sweep them away together. 

Buttons scattered across the flagstone floor to be lost forever underneath the heavy furnishings, and soon her dress joined them as it fell in a heap beside their bed. Daemon’s roguish smirk returned when his hands cupped her bare arse and pressed her against him. 

“It’s hardly befitting of my queen to strut about the palace without smallclothes like a common whore.” He bit down gently on her bottom lip and relished in the soft mewl that rose in her throat. “Any man could…” 

As his voice trailed off, she felt his fingertips ghost over her hip before moving to her center and sliding into her wet heat. His fingers curled inside her immediately, expertly finding her most pleasurable spot as though it had not been years since he had last fucked her. A stuttering, wanton moan left her, only encouraging him to continue.

“...take advantage.” 

Daemon coaxed her back onto their bed, never pulling his hand away from where, with rapacious speed, he was already bringing her to the brink of the most carnal pleasure. But as she pushed herself up onto her elbows in search of his lips, he pulled back.

“Uh uh,” he hummed. “Look at me, ābrazȳrītsos.” He no longer wished to kiss her, choosing instead to watch her with the same darkened eyes as he had earlier. He saw it all. The way her half-lidded eyes struggled to stay on his, the way her brow twitched and furrowed, the way her neck strained with effort. 

And she was ablaze beneath him, the dragon’s touch inside her reigniting a fire that she had not felt in so long. The warmth of it began to spread through her as his fingers swiftly brought her to her release, which spread through every limb until it consumed her like a wildfire in the countryside. 

There was a grin of satisfaction on Daemon’s face when she opened her eyes again. To him, no sight could have been better than that of her beneath him, breathless, with flushed skin as she lay in the haze of her release. And to her, the image of him licking her wetness from his fingers with such lecherous desire in his eyes could have finished her once more. 

He sat back on his haunches to remove his doublet and tunic, which joined her gown on the floor as though they may as well have been dirty rags. She barely had time to study his bare torso, scarred and more muscular than it had been when she had seen it last, before he was upon her again. When he leaned over her to kiss her, her own hands took over and began to fumble at the closure of his breeches. 

“My poor little wife,” he rasped, “left without a husband to fill her all this time.”

Her lips curled into a sly grin that she knew he could feel against his lips. “Perhaps I have taken a lover in your absence.”

“Name the man and I shall have his head.” Daemon spoke in jest, she knew, but she also surmised that a certain level of sincerity lay beneath his words. Any man that would dare touch the wife of the Rogue Prince would incur his wrath. “Nay, his cock, and he may live out the rest of his days as a eunuch. Perhaps I will have him sent away to become an Unsullied or a priest of Boash.” 

He watched her face intently as her trembling fingers finished their work at his breeches. She had already been brought to pleasure but the sight of his thick, hard cock emerging from his trousers as she pushed them down renewed that same need inside her like an ember that had been rekindled into a blaze. A memory bloomed in her mind of when she had first laid eyes on his manhood on the night of their wedding and how she had doubted that it could even fit inside her. She found herself considering the same thought now.

“O-on the contrary,” she managed, dotting her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. “I have had to pleasure myself.”

“Oh?” Daemon’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted as his hand lifted to her chin to hold her gaze so she had no choice but to see his lust. “I would have you show me sometime, ñuha dāria,” he purred with voracious need. “But for the rest of tonight? You will not cum anywhere but on my cock.” 

He took her firmly by the hips, his calloused fingertips digging into her skin as he pulled her with him so that she straddled him. And then, in a brief moment of tenderness that barely concealed his near-animalistic desire, he twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. “Know this: your cunt shall never go unfilled again. And perhaps I will put a babe in you, now that I am home.”

“Please.” Her voice, though barely a whisper, was heavy with want.

“Issa, ñuha dāria.” 

Daemon pulled her hips down so that she sank onto his cock, too impatient to give his wife any time to adjust after three years apart. A soft whine left her at the sudden fullness, the way he stretched her as though he had claimed her maidenhead for a second time. He did not let even a second go to waste before he began to guide her movements atop him. She was at the mercy of his hands, which demanded her pleasure and the closeness of her body without remorse. 

What he need not demand was the sweet cries of ecstasy that passed her lips, which filled their bedchambers and, likely, spilled into the hall outside of their door. They felt almost sinful to listen to and, yet, were the most beautiful sounds that he had ever heard.  

“Gods… Daemon…” she moaned, her body arching into him. She had spent so many nights whispering his name into the darkness of their bedchambers as she brought herself to release at the thought of him. But to have him beneath her, inside her, around her once again was pure bliss.

At the sound of his name on her lips, Daemon pressed his face between her breasts and groaned hoarsely. “That’s it, ābrazȳrītsos,” he panted against her flushed skin, his fingers moving further to grasp her by the arse and pull her closer. 

It would not be the gods that would make her cum tonight; it would be him.

She could feel it, the pleasure beginning to tighten inside her. She was at his mercy, lost in the feeling of him bucking his hips up into her and the sensation of his lips at her breasts. It felt impossible that one should experience such rapturous delight as this. In every touch and every choked growl that left him, she could sense that he felt exactly the same. 

“Daemon, please–” Her words left her as a high-pitched squeak, signaling to him just how close she was to falling over the edge. Her body began to tense, her thighs trembling on either side of his hips. Her hands flew to his upper arms, grasping and almost pushing, as if to try and escape the wave of pleasure that was fast approaching. 

But he would not let her go until it consumed them both.  

With his hands still at her hips, Daemon pushed her backward until she was buried in the soft blanket that had been so perfectly laid atop their bed mere moments ago. His body sunk into hers, taking over from her previous ministrations atop him as her hands anchored themselves to his shoulders. He rutted into her like an animal, starved as he had been of her body for the last three years. 

She felt herself shudder when his lips planted kisses along her jawline and moved up until they found her mouth. He swallowed every desperate moan that left her, the taste of them growing sweeter and sweeter the closer she came to her peak. 

Her walls began to clench around him, her breath hitching with his every thrust. Any words she may have uttered only coiled at her throat, her thoughts meaningless as the building pleasure finally unfurled inside her. He held her steadfastly as she came around him, his touch her only lifeline as the heat and delirium ravished her completely. 

“Cum with me,” she gasped against his lips. He would have kept going, brought her to another peak before finishing, but her soft plea was enough to end him, too.

“Fuck…” he groaned, thrusting into her one final time as he spilled himself inside her. 

And when their shared pleasure had passed, her vice-like grip on his shoulders released. The light touches of her fingertips traveled across his back, feeling each new scar that he had acquired in the Stepstones. But he relished in her gentle touch after so many years of war, and allowed himself to collapse against her. 

The weight of his body was soothing, his warmth a balm for her lonely heart. Their breaths slowed and, soon, the only sounds in the room came from the fireplace opposite their bed. It crackled and burned, its radiant heat intermingling with the lingering warmth of their coupling. 

Daemon eventually lifted his head again and reached a hand up to straighten the circlet that had half fallen off of her head in their final throes of passion. He paused to admire the sight of her, still in a daze and wearing a sleepy smile on her lips. He kissed her once more and, when he withdrew, she saw that his eyes had regained some of their earlier hunger.

“Do not think that I am finished with you, ñuha dāria.” 

[neuvistar]

biker! blade? how about guitarist! blade who fucks u before stepping onto the stage and according to him, its a good luck ritual 🫶🫶🫶

oh lawd…. u got me thinking.. guitarist blade is good w his fingers u guys CANNOT tell me otherwise

guitarist!blade x fem!reader. cw. nsfw. semi public s3x, v4ginal fingering, squirting, one pussy slap, cunnilingus, use of nicknames, blade referred 2 as “yingxing” | minors dni | nsfw under the cut !

blade groaned deeply, reveling in the sight of his precious beloved’s pleasure-stricken face. your cries filled his changing room, echoing off the walls like a testament to the newfound connection between your drenched cunt and his fingers. each thrust of his digits brought you closer to heaven, but made you fear for the worst.. there were people around, the door wasn’t locked.. you knew someone could come in any moment now. but blade? aeons.. he just wanted to savour every single moan that left your lips, igniting the fire within his body. but yet, he knew this little intimacy wouldn’t last long because of his concert he had to preform. ugh.. such bad timing.

“bladie, please…” he heard you beg, his heart lurched at the little nickname, “yingxing.. you really need to go out there and preform.. we can do this alone later..” your soft murmurs were interrupted by the sudden curl of his fingers, a sharp gasp left your lips at the sensation as you could almost feel sweat dripping down your forehead, mingling with tears of anguish and elation. “this is good luck," he panted desperately, trying to ease his arousal as he rubbed himself against the couch. “don’t interrupt.. you know you enjoy this as much as i do, don’t you?”

he shoved a third digit inside, eliciting another whimper from his precious darling.. a low chuckle rumbled in his throat, marvelling at the warmth and tightness of your pussy around his slender fingers, you knew he was getting tired of using his fingers.. you knew from how lazy his pumps were getting, they were steady.. yes, but they were also slowing down by the second. a wave of relief washed through you when blade retracted his fingers from your drooling cunt. in his eyes, it was still begging for more. but in yours? you were absolutely exhausted! you grumbled, slowly trying to get up. ah, maybe he finally stopped, right?

you were more wrong than ever. that was just the beginning.

blade raised his freehand to land a quick yet painful slap to your cunt. “ouch..! hey!” you yelped, furrowing your eyebrows with a pout. “silly girl. did you think we were done? the good luck charm has not come onto me yet.”

“w—what? what do you mean it hasn’t “come onto” you yet?! do i look like tinkerbell to you—“ blade almost immediately delved into your wet heat, oh yeah. this was what he needed. his good luck charm of the day. his tongue stroked along your folds delicately at first, kissing your clit with his pretty lips as he tasted you. fuck, he needed this alright. his fingers played with your hole gently while his mouth continued its rhythm. he was determined to give you pleasure beyond measure, but yet he was also determined to give himself a reward for all the hard work throughout the day, and.. his good luck charm he was so desperate to get. your soft cries rang out loud yet wonderfully in his changing room, praying to the gods above that nobody would walk in. the male’s tongue darted playfully over your clit while he slowly slid two fingers inside you.

“blade..” your body arched off the couch when he dug his fingers knuckles deep within you, teasingly doing a scissoring motion as your cries filled the quiet room. the more he saw you moan, the more he saw you squirm.. the more he desired you. his wet muscle picked up the pace as he licked and sucked hungrily, eating you out like a starved man.. the sounds of slurping and licking were evident. each moan that escaped from your mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through him; he wanted nothing more than your release. on his face.

before you could say anything, your hand flung onto your mouth as your eyes were sewn shut, squirting on his face with a sense of relief. “.. ah.. ah? oh my god.. i’m so sorry!” blade only scoffed at your apology, bringing his hand to wipe his face as he eagerly lapped up the remaining mess on your pussy, savouring your taste while watching you tremble underneath him. a satisfied grin spread wide across his face. “that’s what i was hoping for.”

“.. huh?”

“your release. your release on my face. my.. good luck charm for the performance today.”

ugh.. seriously, you really need to put a leash on this man, or he’ll eat you out every few minutes before his performances. well.. not like you’d mind anyway.

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

[arc-misadventures]

MFK: Jaune and FATE servants.

Jaune: MFK XVII

Nora: NORA!

Jaune: ...

Nora: ...

Jaune: ...

Nora: Y-You didn't react...? D-Didn't I scare you...?

Jaune: I hadn't seen you in several hours. It was quiet, too quiet. So I assumed you were planning something. It was only a matter of time until you showed up, and screamed something at me trying to scare me. And, you did.

Nora: ...

Nora: We're doing MFK!

Jaune: AHHHH!?!

Nora: Ha! I got my scream~!

Jaune: We're no actually doing it though, are we?

Nora: No, we totally are doing it.

Jaune: Fuck!

Nora: Let me introduce you to today's contestants! First we have this beautiful lady. Jeanne D'Arc!

Jeanne: Bonjour~!

Jaune: Wait, hold up...?

Nora: Her evil clone, Jeanne D'Arc Alter.

Jeanne: Hi.

Jaune: Hold on now?!

Nora: And, last but not least! Jeanne Arc!

Jeanne: Hello~!

Nora: Let the games b...?!

Jaune: What the hell, Nora?!

Nora: Begin...?

Jaune: Good gods... of all the people you wanted me to, MFK, you pick my freaking quad sisters?!

Nora: ...

Nora: T-They're your sisters? Oh, I guess that make sense... they're all named, Arc. Wait, what the hell is, 'quad?'

Jaune: We're quadruplets, Nora. Since we're not twins, we call each other, 'Quad.' They are my quad sister's, and I am their quad brother.

Nora: Quadruplets?! But, I thought you were the youngest, a-and that you had seven older sisters?!

Jaune: Aye. I have four older sisters... that were born one at a time. Then, mom had the four of us, at relatively the same time.

Jaune: Jeanne, the blonde one with the silver crown, is the oldest among us.

Jeanne: That's me~!

Jaune: The platinum blonde with amber eyes, who is often referred to as the black sheep of the family is the second oldest. We call her, Jalter.

Jalter: Hi lil' bro. Your teammates is weird.

Jaune: No kidding...

Jaune: And, lastly we have the third oldest, Jea.

Jea: I think she's nice; a little eccentric, but nice.

Jaune: And, lastly we have me, the youngest.

Nora: Wow... your birthday must be a nightmare, sharing it with three sisters.

Jeanne: Actually, it is not like zat!

Jalter: We were all born on, May 30. However, each of our births took so long that our quad brother, Jaune ended up being born on the, 31.

Jea: So while we three sisters all have a birthday on the same day, Jaune luckily has his own separate birthday.

Jalter: Lucky bugger...

Nora: Okay...

Jaune: Anymore questions about my quads, Nora?

Nora: Yeah, what's with... Jeanne's accent?

Jaune: Her accent?

Jalter: There is a regional language from where we're from, called...

Jeanne: Français~!

Jalter: It's called, French. That's just how you say it in, French.

Jea: Jeanne learned the language just like the rest of us, she just latched on to it so much, that when she speaks the common tongue, with a, French accent.

Nora: Ohh... that makes sense! So, uhh... since this involves your quad brother, you still want to play, MFK?

Jeanne: Oh oui, very much so~!

Jalter: Hell yeah! I can totally use this to tease my little brother! I'm not missing this for anything!

Jea: I wanna tease our older sisters with this! We'll finally learn which sister he has a thing for!

Jeanne: Oh~! Those bro-cons will be so upset when we tell them!

Jaune: Oh gods...

Nora: Well, Jaune, who do you choose~?

Jaune: Haa... I'll marry my older sister... Jeanne!

Jeanne: Oui! Oui! Oui! I get to marry my sweet adorable little brother!

Jaune: Of course you were a bro-con too... you scream 'bro-con!'

Jeanne: It tis not my fault that you are ze only man that meets all of my standards for a marriage partner.

Jaune: You have low standards then...

JJJ: HEY?!

Jeanne: What did we say about speaking bad about yourself?!

Jaune: To do so quietly?

Jalter: That we would make you regret saying that! And, you will regret saying...?!

Jaune: I'd fuck, Jalter!

Jalter: W-What...? W-W-Why the fuck would you want to sleep with me?!!

Jaune: J-Jeanne has a warm motherly aura that I would like to find in a wife. And, you have a this cool, punk rocker girl that I wouldn't mind sleeping with, okay?!

Jalter: Alright...

Jaune: OH gods, I thought she was going to kill me...

Nora: You did?

Jaune: I love my sister, don't get me wrong, but sometimes, she scares me. She can have such a scary aura about her...

Jalter:

Jalter: He pick me! He picked me! He picked meeeee~!

Nora: She does...?

Jalter: Ahem! Please continue.

Jaune: Okay...

Jaune: Last, but not least... I kill, Jea.

Jea: Naww... Why do I have to die?

Jaune: Well... Jeanne, is the spicy mom of our quartet...

Jeanne: Spicy~?

Jaune: Jalter is the hot biker bade...

Jalter: I should get a motorcycle..

Jeanne: You would look belle on a motorcycle sister!

Jaune: And, your just the female version of me, Jea.

Jaune: Without the crippling self doubt, but nonetheless, me.

Jea: Rude.

Jaune: I know, being me is terrible.

Jea: ...

Jea: Sisters.

Jalter: On it.

Jaune: Hmm?

Jea: Come here you!

Jaune: Whoa, hey?!

Jeanne: Au revoir, Nora! We will be taking our dear brother away, so we can remind him how much we love him~!

Nora: Okay! Have fun, Jaune!

Jaune: No, Nora! Don't let them take me! Save me! Save meeeeeeeeeeee...!

Nora: What a lovely bunch of people!

[boldlyvoid]

Falling For You.

[REQUEST] spencer reid x BAU!reader but they're in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You've Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.

warnings: mentions of lila archer, spoilers for 90s/2000s rom-coms, co-workers to lovers, love confessions, implied smut, secret relationships.

word count: 2.4k

It was no secret that the newest team member had a thing for romantic comedies. From the little jokes she made with Penelope to the quote from Pretty Woman on her travel mug, she was a walking Rom-Com reference.

Hotch understood some of the references, JJ would talk her ear off about her favourites, and even Emily and Derek would jokingly re-enact that scene from When Harry Met Sally every time they had a team lunch. It was only Spencer who didn’t get the jokes, and after having to explain them all to him 1 too many times, she finally invited him over to watch some. 

The first one they watched together was Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey, a loveable nerd has been saving up all summer to buy the telescope of his dreams when the girl next door accidentally ruins her mom's favourite dress and needs to buy a replacement… he ends up buying it for her on the condition that she pretends to date him so his Senior Year can be his best year yet. Spencer likes the movie overall, he wishes someone in his high school took enough pity on him to make him popular. But his favourite scene is when they go to the abandoned airplane graveyard and watch the stars in his homemade telescope. 

“I can make one of those,” Spencer whispers to her. 

“Really?” 

He nods, “It would be pretty easy… maybe we could go star gazing someday too?” He asks, biting the bullet and making this movie date the first of many dates they’d go on. 

—

The next movie they watch is Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore is a nerdy reporter who goes undercover at a high school and gets to relive her teen years while falling in love for the first time. Spencer likes this one because he can relate, he never had his first kiss until well into his 20s… and she was an actress, too. When he explains that to Y/N she can’t believe it, but he has the magazine photos of them saying goodbye after the case to prove it. 

“Have you kissed many people since then?” She asks, wishing he’d move a little closer to her and steal one. 

He nods, “a few.” 

“anyone good?” 

He shakes his head, “no, I’m saving the best kiss for last.” 

She looks puzzled? “What?” 

“My best kiss will be from the girl I end up marrying,” he gives her a smile and moves his hand over to hold hers. 

“Oh,” she bites back a smile and looks down at their interlocked fingers. “Have you at least met her yet?” 

“I think so…” 

“Well, then shouldn’t you kiss her to find out if she’s the right one?” She teases, leaning into his space even more. 

“I suppose you’re right,” he teases, he cups her face with his free hand and rubs his thumb over her cheek, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

She nods and leans in all the way this time. Effectively pressing their lips together. And even for a first kiss, it sure does feel different. It feels like her last first kiss ever. 

—

Keeping it a secret at work is hard when all they want to do is stare at each other with googly-eyes, they’ve fallen head over heels for each other and not told a single soul. No one knows about their movie dates or their real dates either. No one knows they’ve spent a whole night kissing or that they really, really, don’t mind sharing the hotel room with the two queen beds. And they definitely don’t know that they only slept in the one. Together. The whole week they were away. 

After the case ends, they head back to her apartment for their mandated 48 hours off with the pan to watch as many movies as they can. 

The third movie they watch is You’ve Got Mail. 

“Rival bookstore owners hate each other in real life, yet on the internet manage to fall madly in love with one another. Based on an older movie called The Shop Around The Corner, it’s a beloved story brought to life once again by the one and only Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” 

She explains every movie like this before they put it on. He’s honestly only watching them because he loves listening to her talk about them. 

“You see, they both have partners in real life but they email each other every day, as friends… but you know what it's like in movies like these,” she smirks. “Best friends who have a lot in common find it easy to fall in love.” 

“That they do,” he agrees. 

He raises his arm over the back of the couch and she sits back, leaning into his side just as his hand lands on her shoulder. They snuggle up close, she hits play and he watches with glee, not knowing this was going to become his favourite movie by the time it’s over. 

His favourite line is when two cars honk at each other and their drivers get out to argue, followed by Meg Ryan saying “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” Which is something Tom Hanks says to her in an email earlier that morning.

He loves the way the old man recalls a woman of his past and called her “enchanting” because what a wonderful thing to say about a woman.

He giggles when Tom Hanks tosses aside Pride and Prejudice cause he just doesn’t get it the way Meg's character does. But ultimately, he picks it back up because he wants to get to know her through her reading history. 

“I sympathize with Frank,” Spencer whispers as he brings out a typewriter when they have a perfectly good computer at her house. 

“I know,” she laughs. “I love the tablets at work, I can’t believe you still have Penny paint the files out for you.” 

You are a lone reed standing tall, waving boldly in the curet sands of commerce. Frank compliments Kathleen, or at least he tries to. 

Spencer giggles again. “I remember what it was like being a lone Reid,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

She gets all flustered, so madly in love with him that she wants to scream it from the rooftops but it feels way too soon. They’re only 3 movies into their relationship. Maybe at 10, she’ll tell him. Till then, she looks over at him and steals a real kiss. 

Kathleen is so passionate about her books in the same way that Y/N loves her movies. Spencer sees so many similarities between them that it’s really no wonder that Tom Hanks’ character falls in love with her. Passionate, kind, beautiful women will always have a place in Spencer's heart. 

Their 4th movie is another Meg Ryan classic; When Harry Met Sally, and now Spencer understands why Derek pretends to have an orgasm when he eats a good salad… 

Their 5th movie is Notting Hill and Y/N can tell he doesn’t like it very much because unlike William Tucker, the actress who kissed Spencer never talked to him again after that. 

Their 6th movie, however, is Pretty Woman. And while they shared a bed all through the last case, they’ve never really slept together. So watching a movie all about sex and falling in love really didn’t help the frustration they were both feelings. By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight and they should’ve been getting ready for bed. 

She gets up and heads to her room, expecting him to follow but he just stands in her doorway, watching with a bit of anxiety in his gut. 

“So…” Spencer asks. “What happens after he climbs up and rescues her?” 

She stills, her heart fills with love and she quickly makes his way to him. She cups his face in her hands, staring up at him. “She rescues him right back.” 

“Indeed you have,” he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “You know what all these movies have in common?” 

“What?” She has no idea where he’s going with this.

“They all fell in love pretty quickly, I mean just look at Vivian and Edward, it took them less than a week,” he explains. “So I don’t feel too crazy when I say… I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.” 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispers between kisses. 

They kiss and kiss and he walks with her, leading her toward the bed where they fall in and make love for the first time. It's hot and close and emotional. It's slow and steady and perfect. It’s everything both of them have dreamed of when they finally met the one. 

— 

On their second day off they watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 13 Going On 30, 50 First Dates, A Walk to Remember, 10 Things I Hate About You, and The Holiday. They would’ve gotten to more if they weren’t so wrapped up in one another. By the time they go back to work, they’ve gotten through half of her list of favourite movies. 

He’s not sure if it’s luck or coincidence or what… but their next case happens to be in New York. 

When they land, they get into their Bureau-issued SUVs and weave in and out of traffic on their way to the scene. They’re honked at multiple times and Spencer just smirks to himself. It’s not until they get out and they’re honked at once again, with some guy yelling at them to get out of his way, that Spencer turns to her and says. “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 

She giggles and shoves him, “Shut up.” 

“It’s not the fall?” JJ remarks, not knowing why he’d say such a thing or why she’d react like that. 

“Hey, isn’t that…” Emily thinks it over for a second. “That’s a line from you’ve got mail!” 

“How would Spencer know that movie?” JJ laughs it off. 

Spencer turns to beat red with embarrassment. “I’ve seen it…” 

“You’ve seen you’ve got mail?” Derek even rides him for this slip-up. “And when do you have time to watch rom-coms?” 

“I’ve seen the original,” he lies. “It’s based on The Shop Around The Corner. My mom liked it before she got sick.” 

“Okay,” they drop it there. 

Thankfully. 

And by the time the case ends, 3 days have passed, the unsub has been booked into Jail at 9am and they’re free to go home. If they want to. Derek suggests they all go out for breakfast, and Hotch says he rather go home and sleep. JJ wants to go shopping and Emily’s right there with her. 

Spencer on the other hand, he opens his phone and sends Y/N a message. 

“There’s a place in Riverside Park at 91st street where the path curves and there’s a garden. I’ll be waiting there for you.” 

She digs her phone out of her pocket seconds later and smiles, a small sigh leaves her as her shoulders slump. She’s so in love with him it's unreal. 

“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asks her. “Do you want to come with us?” 

“No… no, I have a friend in town I want to meet up with.” 

“Looks like it’s just me and you for breakfast, pretty boy,” Derek teased, wrapping his arm around Spencer. 

He shakes his head, “Actually, I was thinking about going on a little sightseeing adventure, you know I only come to new york for work.” 

“Fine then,” Derek drops it and he, Emily and JJ watch as Spencer and Y/N head off, out of the precinct and in different directions. “I bet you ten bucks they’re meeting up.” 

“Hold on,” JJ says as she calls up Penelope. “Hey, yeah, can you tell me where Spencer and Y/N’s GPS pings in 20 minutes?” 

“I can… why?” Penny asks nervously. 

“No reason. Just a hunch.” 

When Penelope eventually calls her back all she has to say is Riverside Park at 91st Street and they know. 

—

Y/N gets there first, she’s never seen this place in person before. The flowers are even more vibrant than in the movie. There are bees dancing around every other flower, couples walking around hand in hand, people on dog walks and moms with their strollers. It’s just an average early morning in New York. 

And then she sees him. He comes rounding the corner, he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper… at least she thinks they’re flowers. 

What they don’t notice is their friends on the other side of the garden, watching them get closer and closer until they’re chest to chest. He wraps his free hand around her waist, she cups his face in her own hands, and she stares up at him like he hung the stars just for her.  

“I wanted it to be you,” Spencer whispers what was originally Meg Ryan's line. “I wanted it to be you so badly.” 

“You sure did save the best for last,” she knows exactly what he means. 

Just as they lean in to kiss, as his lips meet hers, they hear it. Someone is playing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” just for them. They smile into the kiss, shocked that their life is playing out like a perfectly written movie and then they see them.

It’s their own friends who played it. They’re clapping in the distance, “Woo!!” Emily cheers.

“We knew this would happen!” Derek throws in for good measure. 

They can’t help but laugh, Spencer pulls her in for another kiss, a longer, more hearty kiss. He loves her and he wants everyone to know. 

When she pulls back, she looks as though she could cry, so he extends the bouquet to her. It’s a bunch of yellow, newly sharpened number 2 pencils tied up with string. 

“Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 

“Not as much as I love you,” she says as she takes them, gladly. “Not even close.” 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86

[skipper1331]

Which sister? // Alexia Putellas

a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it:)

"Are you even listening?" Mapi asked her best friend who was watching you with googly eyes.

Alexias heart fluttered at the sight in front of her, you. Her eyes roamed over your figure, mesmerizing every detail, you were stunning. For her, it didn‘t matter If you were all dressed up, in joggers or in the training gear - you were the most beautiful girl in the world. Yet she had to admit, seeing you in the Barça kit made her heart skip a beat, skin tingle.

"Huh?"

"stop drooling and listen to me" the defender told her stern, Alexias hand flying to her mouth to wip it - no drool. "Gosh Ale," Mapi laughed, "that was meant metaphorically" the girl glared at her friend, sighing in defeat. La reinas crush on you was more than obvious to everyone but you. She held the door open for you, braided your hair every time, drove you almost everywhere around, she would even carry you if you were too exhausted to walk on your own.

She got it really bad, you just smiled at her across the pitch on your first day in Barcelona and then she knew it straight away. She didn't know you yet, but she knew it, she knew that she would fall headfirst in love with you.

And she did.

Over time, Alexia and you became great friends, hung out all the time and she even introduced you to her family. Her mother and sister were two of the friendliest people you had ever met, Alba maybe more flirty but still kind though.

Her mother spoke highly of you, about your good manners, your helpful and humorous nature - she liked you. At some point your status changed: you were no longer a friend and teammate of her oldest daughter but her third daughter.

-

Thursday evening - family dinner.

After weeks of Mapi trying to convince Ale to ask you out, they agreed to the deal that the midfielder would at least tell her family. So again weeks later, Alexia finally built the courage, for the first time ever, to say out loud that she was in love with you.

The conversation was floating by while Alexia held back. She was quiet most of the time, occasionally adding a humm or some phrase. She was so lost in her thoughts, thinking about the best way to admit that she like-liked you that it just bubbled out of her.

"I‘m in love with Y/n"

Alba choked on her food, dropping the fork as she stared with an open mouth at her sister, "what?!"

Eli with a big smile on her face, looked at Alexia, she always had a feeling that you were not just a friend to her - not with the way she looked at you, the hearts that arose in her eyes at every mention of your name.

"You can‘t like her!" her sister spat angrily. There was a wrinkle between la reinas brows as they furrowed, "¿por que?"

"Because I like her!"

Alexia was taken back - when did that happen? The Putellas sisters glared at each other, Eli‘s words falling to death ears. "Well then the fight is on. Let‘s see which sister she wants" the younger girl stated as she stood up, leaning on her arms to intimidate her sister. "Fight? She’s not a trophy to fight for!" The midfielder herself now stood up, also leaning on the table. The tension was thick, holes burning in to the head of each other, "as If you haven‘t gone after every trophy" Alba replied, refering to the numerous trophies Alexia had fought for. "Alba, say one more time she‘s a trophy and I‘ll smack you!"

That was the moment Eli disputed, her fist hitting the table, shutting up both of her daughters. "You," Eli looked at Alba before she pointed to the living room "this way". The younger girl grumbled under her breath as she stomped out, the mother turning to her other child "Kitchen"

"No mamá"

Alexia was mad, she didn‘t know If she was mad because her sister liked you too or because she refered to you as a trophy or If she was scared that Alba would win this fight.

In defeat, the midfielder slumped back on her chair, head resting in her hands. She needed a minute.

Calmed down, Ale looked at her mother with the most heart broken eyes yet not saying anything. The girl walked towards the living room, her mum close behind. Alba was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as she glared at the black screen of the tv. "Alba," her sister said in a firm voice, stubbornly she didn't turn around, her gaze fixed on switched off television, Alexia continued anyway, "I won‘t fight you. If you want her, ask her" confused, Alba turned to face the Barça player, why would she give up a fight? She‘d always fight for everything. "Just- just promise me to treat her right, okay?" The only thing Alexia did fight was against her tears in that moment.

She left straight after, not giving one of them the chance to say something.

She wouldn't fight against her sister, not when it involved something so important - you. She would rather have her own heart broken than to see you sad or miss out the chance of happiness with her sister. She loved you and Alba too much for that.

The happiness of her family and you will always be her first priority - no matter what.

-

Alexia avoided you. The sparkle in her eyes was missing - you were missing. When she talked to you, she held her answers short, partner drills she did with someone else and she would even avoid to look at you - her favorite sight.

In your eyes, she was a changed woman. A few days ago, everything was perfectly fine; the two of you joked around, she gave you a lift home but now? it was as If you were strangers.

It wasn't like you to confront her straight away, maybe she just had a bad day or week and needed some distance, some space. You weren't a confrontational person anyways, situations like that just stressed you out and triggered your anxiety.

You gave her the space you thought she wanted while she secretly hoped you would talk to her - the change in her mood and behaviour noticeable for everyone in the team.

In the meantime her sister shot her shot.

Alba

hola

wanna hang out later?

Weird. The younger Putellas had never asked you to hang out before, at least not without Ale.

Not thinking too much about it you agreed, the girl suggesting to met up at the little café, the three of you visited often.

Later that afternoon, you walked to the café which wasn‘t far from your home, wearing casual clothers. Subconsciously, you hoped that Ale would be there too and when you just saw Alba sitting at your regular table, your heart hurt a little. "hi" you greeted with a smile though, the younger girl giving you a longer hug than usually. "How have you been?" she asked, "you look really pretty by the way" she added, what was going on here?

The whole time you felt uncomfortable with the way she flirted with you or would touch your arm and hand. Something seemed to be different compared to the last times.

Each time something flirtatious came you would change the subject - Ale always being the new topic. It annoyed Alba while it made you smile, happy and calm. Alexia was your safe space and happy place.

Alba slowly began to realize that she never stood a chance. It had always been Alexia and you. The way your eyes lit up when you mentioned Alexias name, the way your smile would reach the corner of your eyes - why didn't she realize that much sooner? The connection the two of you had was deeper and more meaningful than anything she had ever seen before. So while Alba only had a crush on you, Ale loved you.

And clearly, you loved her.

Guilt crept though her body as she understood what pain she caused, Alexia not returning their mothers calls, your calls and her own calls.

She understood the pain in the midfielders eyes the day she made her promise to treat you right.

"I think i have some explaining to do, y/n"

-

"Ale! Open the door!" you banged against her front door rapidly and firmly, your hand hurting from the force behind each knock. She was already in her sleeping outfit as she opened the door like she always did when you knocked. You looked out of breath, sweaty and face all red. "Did you just run here?" the Barcelona captain asked as she supported you to the way to the living room, placing you on the couch as she brought you a glass of water. "So?" she asked again, looking at you with the eyes she had when she was speaking to the team as their captain. You could only nod as you drowned the water, about to pass out. From the café to Ales home was a long way but you had to see her. As soon as Alba explained everything, you ran out of the café, leaving the younger Putellas by herself. Thinking back, it was a bad idea and you should‘ve listened to Alba as she offered to drive you.

"Tell me, what do you need?" Alexia said in a soft voice as she took a seat next to you, wiping the hair out of your face, "probably a shower" you replied yawning.

"Let‘s go" the girl lifted you up, carrying you like a child to the bathroom as your legs were wrapped around her waist, your head on her shoulder and her arms under your legs to support you. She placed you on the counter next to the sink, slowly starting to take your hair out of the plait and comb it, "i‘m going to get you some clothes" quickly, she took some random shorts and an oversized out her wardrobe before returning to you. "Here" she laid the clothes down, "take your time, i‘ll be waiting"

Stepping in to the shower, you let the hot water run over your shoulders down to your feet as your body started to relax. Taking your time but still showering rather quickly, you washed your hair and body. The smell of Alexia - her shampoo - filled the room, it smelled like home.

Ale was laying in her bed while she waited for you, many questions running through her mind. Why did you run to her home? Why did you knock on to her door like something happened? What happened?

As she heard the door of her bedroom open she sat up, leaning on her elbows, you looked cute in her clothes.

You had stayed over before many times, always wearing her clothes yet every time it made her heart flutter and cheeks blush. Alexia scooted aside as she patted on the free side of the bed. Join her. Making your way over, you flopped on the mattress, an exhausted sigh leaving your throat as you got more comfortable in Alexias bed. Both of you stared at the ceiling, neither of you saying a word. "Why did you run here? Where did you run from? What happened?" The questions bubbled out of her as she turned to you, your chest rising and falling in a normal pace. "Ran here from the café. I had to see you"

"From the café?!"

You hummed in agreement, "Alba asked me"

Ale‘s whole body tensed as she inhaled sharply. Did Alba ask-asked you? What did you mean? What did she ask you exactly? "You didn‘t tell me you had a fight with her"

it was your turn to face her, your arm supporting your head. She froze with fear. What was happening? "what are you talking about?" she wanted to play clueless but you knew better. You knew her and you knew now what happened at the family dinner, you knew everything. "Keyword: trophy"

"Don‘t" she whispered, laying on her back again, staring at the ceiling. Trophy, you were everything but a trophy to her, she didn‘t want to win you, she wanted you, to be with you. With a quick adjustment of your posture, you were at her side, leaning over her, to look at her. Her eyes were so beautiful. "You know, If I was a trophy-"

"You‘re not!" her voice was loud and clear, your heart melting while you ignored her statement to continue, "you would win me" her eyes grew wide, a shy smile covering her face as her cheeks burnt red, "Ale," your thumb traced along her jawline before your hand rested on her neck, "there was never the question: which sister. It's always been you, Ale, always" relief washed over the spaniards body, it was the confirmation she had to hear so dearly. Her hands cupped your cheeks, thumb caressing your them. "God, you‘re so beautiful" her eyes were full of hearts, her heart racing as her body was on fire, "I‘m so in love with you"

An upside down smile was written over your face as you got all shy under her compliment, confession and intense (yet loving) stare. You closed your eyes, slowly leaning down, her hands not pulling you in any way, it was all you. The midfielder watched every movement, only closing her eyes when she finally felt your lips against her own.

Sweet.

Your lips tasted sweet. She had often imagined the taste of your lips but wow they felt like heaven.

Even when the question arose: which sister? For you there had only ever been one answer, one sister, Alexia. The girl you fell in love with the moment you saw her tripping over her own feet on your first day in Barcelona.

—————————

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Before You Go

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree, but a certain green eyed stranger keeps showing up and turns her life upside down. Will she push him away? Or will she finally realize that he’s not going anywhere? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's)

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), mentions of sex (not explicit at all), implied sex, self-deprecating thoughts (Dean),  Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. I’m not going to lie, this one is a little self-indulgent. This is only my second supernatural fic, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Masterlist

Part 2

********************************************

"Did you understand anything from that lecture?" Tim asks nudging your shoulder.

 The sour smell of beer and sweat fades in and out of your nose as you make your way to the Science building through the mass of students on the way to the football game. It was a Thursday night, Thursday night for everyone else meant tailgating, cheap beer, and face paint, but Thursday night for you meant four hours in the anatomy lab surrounded by the oppressive smell of formaldehyde and bent over a table examining the internal intricacies of the human body.

It wasn’t unwelcome, you knew what you signed up for when you decided to go to medical school, but you still wished that the lab was earlier in the day instead of at 6 pm.

The air is filled with the dull throb of energy, pulsing with the music from speakers all over campus, and through the throngs of people that pass you on the way to the stadium. The buzz of excitement in the air vibrated through your nerve endings. If you paid attention to how well the football team was doing, you would have known that tonight was the championship, but the closest you got to pigskin was the bag of pork rinds in your backpack and the occasional football player that asked you for help finding research materials during your shifts at the library.

"Nope." You reply jostling past a group of guys toting a giant stuffed pig wearing jersey of the school’s rival while they catcall some girls up ahead dressed from head to toe in bright red.

"Then why did you keep nodding?"

"Because Professor Drake was staring right at me!"

"You didn't have to make eye contact."

"It's a little late for that don't you think?" You smile up at him. He's taller than you, with dark hair falling forward into his glasses and a lean build. "But it's alright, I'll just binge watch YouTube videos."

Tim laughs adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You had been lab partners since your first year, randomly assigned and forced to collaborate, but after many late night study sessions and mental breakdowns, Tim was one of your only friends.

“You seem to spend a lot of time on YouTube." He smiles.

"It's free education."

"Seems ridiculous to pay all this money just to learn it on YouTube."

"If YouTube handed out degrees for watching videos I’d be a doctor by now. I’d probably also have a degree in culinary arts.” You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You were both running late for lab. Dr. Welsh hated it when students were late, in fact, he was notorious for locking the door. Each week there was always some poor soul that banged on the door for entry, but Dr. Welsh knew no mercy. One time, you witnessed another student attempt to sneak in through the window an hour late. Dr. Welsh made them go back out the way they came, despite the lab being on the third floor.

At least the student brought a ladder with him.

“Culinary arts?”

“I like pie. Plus baking helps me cope with my stress.” You knock into his shoulder to shut him up. “What? You don’t watch anything weird on YouTube?”

“I usually start watching videos to understand the lectures and suddenly it’s been 7 hours, it’s 3 am and I’m watching a timelapse of metal rusting.”

“We’ve all been there buddy.”

"Hey doll-face!" You hear from somewhere behind you, but you ignore it, believing it to be another group of guys who splash beer over the sidewalk.

You glance down at your watch again.

"We're not going to be late." Jake says sensing your anxiety. "We've got 5 minutes."

"Early is on time, on time is late, late is inexcusable." You sing-song.

"Dr. Welsh embroider that on a pillow for you?"

"No it’s just-"

Someone grabs your backpack and pulls you back a step. What the- You whirl around prepared to cuss out a drunken frat boy, but you weren't expecting Dean Winchester.

"Dean." You say in surprise.

He looks better than you remember. Dean's wearing a red flannel covered by a black jacket, his hair tousled just the right amount to look effortless, his green eyes crinkled around the edges as his mouth pulls into a smile that makes your knees weak.

Your relationship, if you could even call it that, began your first week of classes, two years ago. You had just moved into your apartment and met your new roommate, but instead of going out to the new student mixer with her, you decided to stay in and unpack. It was past midnight when you heard a commotion in the apartment next door and when you opened your front door to investigate, you found Dean in the hallway leaning against the wall. His clothes were torn, he had a knife in his hand, blood was soaked through the front of his shirt, but when his eyes met yours, you weren't afraid. He looked so broken, so small that you had to help him. So you pulled him into your apartment and stitched him up the best you could, while he tried to lie about how it happened and explain why he looked like he'd been through a blender. Dean had never been good at lying to you, not even then. He was also the biggest baby you had ever met when it came to wound care.

In the months that followed Dean continued to show up, each time with injuries less and less life threatening asking you to help him, until one day he showed up perfectly fine and continued to show up. You would spend every minute together for a few days and then he would leave like nothing happened, only to show up again in a few weeks and it would start all over again.  Sometimes you thought that he wanted more than just a few days together, but then he would just leave, not giving you any other explanation. You hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as you did, but each time he left it broke you. You found yourself hoping each day that he would show up, only to be disappointed when he didn't. Days would drag by fading into shades of gray until finally Dean would show up and everything went back to color, only to sink back into monochrome when he left. The last time you had seen him was a month ago, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and told him not to come back.

But now he was here, again.

"Hey Doll-face." Dean smiles wider.

You try to ignore how your heart stutters in your chest when he smiles at you.

"Do you know this guy?" Tim asks you taking a step forward to put himself between Dean and you.

Dean's eyes trace Tim, smile slipping into confident smirk as he sizes him up. He opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever thought was about to come out.

"Unfortunately I do." You sigh. "Tim can you give us a minute."

"Sure. But-"

"I know." You say, understanding that he was going to remind you what time it was. "We won't be late."

"I'll be over there." Tim puts a healthy distance between the two of you, far enough to give you space, but close enough that he can see you.

Dean is still smirking at him. "Boyfriend?" His eyes flit to yours, amused.

"Lab partner." You adjust your grip on your backpack unsure what to do.

I said everything I needed to say the last time. I thought that was it. Did he think I didn't mean it?

You think about the last time he was here, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and when he finally left, how you skipped all your classes and stayed in bed for two days clutching a pillow to your chest and wishing that it was him. It had felt like the end. The end of whatever the hell this had been. Sometimes you wished that you had defined it the first time you slept together, wished that you had told him you didn't do that ever, that you didn't just sleep with people without feelings because you knew sooner or later it would end up like this.

Then again you knew that you always had feelings for him, since the moment you locked eyes with his the night you met.

"He’s cute. If you’re into that geeky kind of thing. Though you could always date Sam-"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Plus I didn’t want to miss the big game.”  Dean's eyes flit to the mass of people swarming around you, shouting and singing as they stumble down the cracked pavement. The dark shadows of the buildings stretch long over campus, illuminated by the lamplights that line the sidewalks.

"You should have called"

"I did. You never pick up" He arches a perfect eyebrow.

"Most would take that as a hint"

"Well Sweetheart given my profession you not picking up made me worry."

By now you knew exactly what he did. Despite Dean not acting like he wanted a relationship, when all was quiet and it was just the two of you laying in bed he confided in you, told you things about his life that made you hold him close and wish that you could make him forget all about it. You loved those soft moments with Dean, when it felt like more and you could imagine that Dean wanted to be as wrapped up in you as you were in him.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you try to forget it all, forget the day he walked into your life, and forget how much you like him.

"I can’t do this with you right now, I’ve got a lab in 3 minutes." You turn towards where Tim is standing, prepared to leave.

"Come on you can blow off one lab.”  Dean grabs your backpack turning you back to face him. “We can go to the big game. You know I can’t say no to free beer-“ The look in his eyes is joking.

He doesn't understand.

You shake him off. "No I can't Dean. This is important to me. This is my life. I can't drop everything just because you show up out of the blue."

"It wouldn't be out of the blue if you picked up your phone." His smile dips into an attractive pout that makes it very difficult to think.

"Dean why are you here?"

"I told you, I was in the neighborhood-"

"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore."

"I remember you talking about it."

"Yes and I remember you leaving." You snap as the memory of the last time you saw him rises in the back of your throat. You think about the days that followed, when you couldn't focus and flunked a test. 

"Y/n-“ Dean sighs.

"Look, I like spending time with you, but I can't keep doing this to myself. You show up, we spend every second together for days, and then you leave. It would be one thing if we were trying to do long distance, but we’re not.  All I get is radio silence for weeks and then you show  up all over again like nothing happened, expecting to pick up right where we left off, and the cycle begins all over again."

"I don't go radio silent for weeks. It’s you that doesn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”

"Yes you do and I can't do it. I won't do it. Because every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you and-" You take in a breath to stop the ball of emotion that lodges itself in your throat. "It does something to me. And I'm not saying that what you do is any less important than what I'm trying to accomplish here. I’m not telling you to stop hunting. But this is my life Dean, my future. And I don’t want to put that in jeopardy because you show up every few weeks when you’re feeling restless. I want more than a few days every few weeks. I want more and I'm worth more. And if you can't give that to me that's fine, but please stop coming around and so I can find someone else who can."

The expression on Dean's face shifts, it's no longer the playful smirk or attractive pout, it almost looks heartbroken.

But that can't be right. Dean doesn't see me that way.

You look at where Tim is waiting for you to avoid Dean's gaze. He’s looking down at the watch on his wrist and you can feel his apprehension.

"I've got to get to my lab." You turn away from Dean, but stop halfway to Tim. "It was good to see you Dean. I wish you the best."

As Tim and you begin to walk away, you can feel Dean's eyes on you the whole way up the stairs into the science building, but you refuse to turn back.

"Are you okay?" Tim whispers.

"I will be. Let's just go before Dr. Welsh locks the door." You mutter while pushing down the guilt that rose when you thought of how Dean looked when you walked away.

********************************************

Despite Dr. Welsh’s attempts to lock the door, you were far too angry with Dean to let another man stand in your way, so when you and Tim arrived to lab 10 seconds before the clock struck 6, you shoved your boot in the door before Dr. Welsh could shut it. And by some miracle he let you in. Maybe it was the murder in your eyes.

Tim had been stunned, you were usually more reserved, not quick tempered. But everything that happened with Dean rubbed you the wrong way.

You couldn’t decide if you liked him or hated him. Right now the hate was winning.

How dare he? You thought to yourself, hand clenching on the scalpel so tightly that Tim backed up. How dare he just show up again after I told him not to?

“Y/n, are you okay?” Tim had asked.

“I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?” You’d snapped at him.

Even Dr. Welsh had given you a wide berth through lab.

 After you cleaned up everything it was 10:26 pm, which meant you had a little time before your late shift in the library.

“Did you want to go see if that shawarma food truck is still parked around the corner?” Tim asks hesitantly.

“No. I’m just gonna go to the library and study before my shift.” You mumble, shouldering your backpack and ignoring the urge to think about Dean.

Hopefully he took the hint and he’s gone. The thought brought a prick of guilt. Would that be the last time I ever saw him? Would those be the last words I ever said to him? You fight the urge to call him, to apologize, because the one thing you had wanted to say was that you liked him and you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to stay in your life permanently. Sure long distance was hard, but for him it would be worth it.

“Oh.” Tim pauses for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?”

“Well that Dean guy. You seemed kinda upset.”

“I was- am. But it’s okay, give me a few hours I’ll be over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Make sure to send the link to that Timelapse of metal rusting.” You try to smile, but the joke falls flat.

“Okay.” Tim watches you go.

The library was only a 9 minute walk from the science building, but it still felt too long. You longed to be lost in your notes, to think of anything else other than Dean, but you couldn’t.

Why did he have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just let it lie? I was doing better- You think about the weeks that followed his last visit, a haze of homework, tests, and work. Well, I was doing okay.

The thrum of music is still in the air, but now less people pass you as you walk down the sidewalk, and the ones that do are holding hands and laughing. Your thoughts shift to Dean again.

I like him, but I have to get over him because it’s not going anywhere. You think about the first time you slept together. Maybe this is my fault, maybe I should have defined this from the beginning. I mean, I know the kind of person he is… That thought makes you pause. Sure the first few times you’d patched his wounds Dean was sexy and flirty, but all the times that followed he seemed, sweet, charming. It wasn’t that you spent every moment in bed, he had taken you out to dinner at the diner down the street, fought with you over the last slice of pie, took you to a bar for drinks  where he shamelessly beat you at pool, other times he waited for you to be done with your classes to make sure that you didn't have to walk home alone at night. You remember how mad he had been when you told him you did that, but gas was so expensive and it was easier to walk the four blocks.

Someone grabs your arm from behind, pulling you out of your memories, and you finally snap. Using the only self defense move you knew, besides S-I-N-G from Miss Congeniality, you knock off the hand and flip the offender over your shoulder prepared to spray them in the face with the mace in your pocket.

But then you realize who it is.

Dean frowns up at you from the ground. “When I taught you that, I didn’t expect you to use it on me.”

“Just be happy that I didn’t pepper spray you.” Your eyes narrow.

 Maybe I should. It would make me feel better.

“Would have been the highlight of my night.” He stands up from the ground brushing off the front of his clothes with a pointed look.

“Dean what are you still doing here?”

“I want to talk.”

“I’ve said all I need to.”

“But I haven’t.”

“I don’t care. You’ve heard what I need to say and I’m sick of you not listening.”

“Y/n-“

“Fine, I’ll say it one more time, but listen this time.  I've never, never depended on anyone else in my life. It's been me, me for a long time.” You poke your finger into his chest to emphasize your point. “Then you just sauntered in and changed everything. You made me care about you, worry about you, and you made me depend on you showing up in my life. Every time you leave it breaks me. Every time I’m in a funk for days. The last time you left, I cried for two days and I didn’t go to any of my classes! I'm trying to be serious about my life. And I can't do that if you show up every few weeks and make me expect something and then leave a few days later and I'm devastated.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

“I have to get over you Dean, and I can't do that if you keep showing up. So please just go.” You turn away from him.

His hand comes down on your arm again to turn you back to him. “I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?”

“Do you think I like leaving you? Do you really think it’s that easy for me?” He looks hurt.

“It certainly seems to be when you walk out after a few days with a smile like it means nothing! Like I mean nothing-“ You fight the tears that burn against your eyes. You wanted to be something for him just as much as he was something for you, but you were afraid. You hadn’t depended on anyone since you graduated and moved away from home. You weren’t used to needing someone in your life this much.

"You mean everything!” Dean shouts grabbing your shoulders. “It’s me that means nothing."

You blink your eyes for a second, not comprehending what he’s trying to say. "Dean what are you talking about?"

"I didn't think you wanted that-" He looks down.

Your eyes trace the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his handsome face, and the way he won’t meet your gaze.

What is he talking about?

You try to think of a time that you’d seen him look so vulnerable, but the only time you imagine was the night you met.

"Wanted what?"

"Me.” Dean’s voice is a whisper.

"I'm confused."

His eyebrows are furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m nothing like you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re a little younger than me and you’re smart and you’ve got this bright future ahead of you. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down-“

“Someone like you? Dragging me down? Dean what are you talking about?" You can't comprehend what he's saying. You reach up to cup his cheeks, but Dean pulls back from you, glancing away.

“I didn’t go to a fancy college, I barely finished high school. I’ve spent most of my life in motel rooms  committing credit card fraud and trying not to die.  And then I met you. You’re funny and caring and so smart, and  I just thought that you would like it more if I came by every once in a while to relieve some tension. I didn’t think that you would want me to stay.”

He didn’t think that I would want him? That can't be right. Dean is so confident usually. You search his face and see the genuine vulnerability behind his green eyes.

“Are you serious?” You ask him.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Dean, you are smart-“

“Not the same way you are”

“Dean.” You can’t help but take his hand. Dean’s green eyes focus on yours for a second, wide and open. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. You’re resourceful and you know more about supernatural creatures than anyone else. Even the top scientists and doctors in the world don’t believe in them and they went to stuffy old colleges and fight with one another over who’s smarter. I don’t care that you didn’t go to a fancy college. What you do is important, probably more important than what I’m going to do. You protect people, you’ve saved the world more than once, and sure maybe it’s not glamorous to some people but it is to me.”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“Have you thought that maybe I like spending time with you because you’re so different than the people I see everyday?” You ask him softly, squeezing his hand.

“No.” Dean mutters.

“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I don’t have lavish wealthy parents bankrolling me. My dad is a mechanic. I work two jobs and send him money so I don’t have to worry about him. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. But when you show up I don’t feel like a freak. With you I feel like I don’t have to pretend, I can just be me. And I like you, a lot. This has never just been about relieving tension or sex for me. Ever. I mean it’s nice-“

“Just nice?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

You flush bright red. “I like spending time with you without that too. All the times we spent laying in bed or went to a bar or went to get food, and we talked were equally as wonderful for me. I like talking with you. I like hearing about your life. I just assumed that you had someone in every state that you visit when you’re feeling restless and that you didn’t want a relationship.”

“There’s no one else. Hasn’t been since I met you.”

Deans eyes lock with yours as you comprehend what he just confessed.

“Really?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“Fuck I’m not good at this romantic comedy shit-“ He mutters to himself shaking his head. “I like you too. I wish that I could be here all the time. I hate leaving you. It’s too quiet. When I’m not here all I do is think about you, what you’re doing, how your day was.”

Your entire body explodes with his words, heart beating so fast you think it’ll grow wings and take flight.

“When I was younger I used to laugh at Sam because he wanted a normal life, but with you I understand.  You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met and it hurts me when I’m away from you.” Dean continues with a soft smile that makes you lose all feeling in your legs.

He takes your other hand. “I understand that what you’re doing is important and I’m not asking you to quit school. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. I want to make this work. I know that long distance isn’t easy, but I want to try.” His eyes search yours, begging for a answer, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. You watch his face fall as he takes your silence as your answer. “But I understand if you don’t want to, because you are worth more. You’re worth more than a few days, than a phone call or a text. You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. You’re worth more than what I can give you. And you shouldn’t have to settle-“

You grab the front of his flannel because you can’t think of anything to say and pull him down to you for a kiss. Pins and needles trace down your spine as his soft lips move against yours. He smiles against your mouth, folding you into him, his large hand on the small of your back just under your backpack causing warmth to shoot down your spine. You lose yourself in the way his body fits around yours

“I’m not settling.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look deep into his eyes. “I never want you to feel that way, because you are worth a hundred of any man I have ever met in my life. And if it’s my cross to bear to make you understand that every day of my life, then so be it. Because I would be lucky to spend any amount of time with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and every day after. And I’m yours as long as you want me.”

Dean’s smile breaks open something in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps scorch across your skin. “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” He presses his forehead against yours.

You stand there with his warm hand pressed into your back trying to think of another time that you felt even a fraction of what you feel for him. You think about your high school boyfriend, about a few of the guys you dated in during your undergrad years, but you come up with nothing. Because you can’t compare him to anyone else you’ve ever met. And it hurt you to think that Dean thought so little of himself in the grand scheme of things.

He leans down to kiss you again, pulling you against his chest so tight that everything blissfully falls away.

“Are you hungry?” He whispers against your lips after a minute.

“Yes, but my shift at the library starts soon. I’m there til 2.” You tighten your hands at the back of his neck, not wanting to let him go.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Dean it’s okay if you just want to go back to my apartment and sleep. I can give you the key-“ You notice the dark circles under his eyes, but you know that Dean wasn’t one to complain about being tired.

“It’s worth being tired if I get to see you.” Dean smiles. “But I’ll go get us some food, because I’m hungry too.”

“Don’t forget the pie.”

“Have I ever?” He brushes his lips to yours one more time, but you don’t remove your arms from around his neck. “You’re going to have to let me go doll.”

“Just 5 more minutes.”

********************************************

You spend the weekend together in your apartment. All those blissful moments together solidify the thought that this is real, that this time it’s going to be different. Every night going to bed with Dean tucking you against him and waking up every morning with your head on his chest feels like a dream, and you never want to wake. Every kiss and intimate moment between you feels like more, and you have to keep reminding yourself that it isn’t just sex, hasn’t ever been just sex. Dean wants to be there with you all the time, hold you close to him and share things with you. And this time you finally understand that you do help him forget and know that you do bring him as much comfort as he brings you.

When Monday comes and Dean has to go, you try not to think of it as the end.

Dean leans back against the door of the Impala, his hands on your hips, green eyes blazing in the sun, but it’s his eyes that warm you more than the sun’s rays.

"Sweetheart-" Dean begins, sensing what you’re thinking. His thumbs rub smooth circles against waist where your t-shirt rests.

"I know." You press your face into his flannel, inhaling the scent you ascribe to Dean. He smells like oil, leather, and the spicy scent of the soap he uses that tickles your nose.

"Hey." His free hand comes under your chin to raise your gaze back to his. "I promise I'm gonna come back. I promise that we're going to make this work. It’s going to be different.” He cups your cheek, eyes soft and understanding.

“I know, but you’re still leaving.” Your tighten your arms around his chest.

“I wish I didn’t have to. But Sam called, he needs me-“

“I know.” You breathe.

You don’t want Dean to feel any worse than he does about leaving, especially when you remember what he said to you a few days ago, about you deserving more and about how he wished he could be more for you. Deep down you know that both of you are determined to make this work, so you put on a smile.

 “It’s okay.” You gently rub his back.��  “You’ll be back in 2 weeks and I’ll be on spring break in a month.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to see you in a bikini?” Dean grins.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm. Well until I see you-“ He raises his right hand from where it rests on your hip to remove the large silver ring from his finger. "Don't panic, it's not an engagement ring." Dean's smile breaks you a little.  "Just me promising that I'll come back, that I'll call and text you so much that you'll be sick of me." He slides the ring onto your thumb, the weight comforting.

"I could never be sick of you."

“Just you wait.” He winks, holding your hand to his chest. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

“I welcome the challenge.”

The kiss goodbye is bittersweet, but you hold yourself together, refusing to cry as Dean gets into his car and leaves. You watch the Impala disappear around the corner, taking your heart with it, but just as it does your phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I miss you.” Dean’s voice fills the line and this time you can’t stop the tears.

“I miss you too.”

“I promise I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“Okay. Please be careful.” You remember all the stories he's told you over the time you’ve known him, all the horrible things that happened to him and Sam. Sometimes you wish he hadn’t, because you can’t help but worry.

“I’m always careful.” You can hear him rolling his eyes.

“As the person who has spent the past 2 years patching you up, I can say with certainty that you are not always careful.”

“Then I promise to be more careful than usual.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” The wind picks up, pulling your hair from the ponytail at the back of your head.

“I’ll call you when I make it back to the bunker.”

“Good.”

“Bye y/n.”

“Bye Dean.”

Your gaze drops to the heavy ring on your thumb and you hold tight to the hope and belief that this time is different, allowing the memories of the past few days to brush away any doubts that threaten the thought of what the future will bring.

********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!  I am considering doing a series with this reader and Dean, but let me know what y’all think!

[roe-and-memory]

every time someone says cars 3 is the worst cars movie another angel punches me in the stomach and pulls my hair.

this is probably just my intense special interest in the origins of nascar, but that movie feels like such a nice send-off for the main “trilogy”, and yes people can have their own opinions but i NEED to talk about how much this movie means to me

first of all, a major misconception is that lightning quit racing - he DIDNT! this is proven by both the end of the movie (where he says hes obviously going to keep racing) and cars on the road where, in the final episode, cruz and lightning wish each other “goodbye” and say they’ll see each other on the racetrack. he was only cruz’s crew chief for that one season, presumably healing from the trauma of the crash (because lets be real his ass did not mentally recover from that in FOUR MONTHS) and also waiting for a permanent crew chief to take his place.

second.. the sheer amount of detail put into that movie is INSANE. the racing center being shaped like grandstands at a track? fireball beach being both a direct reference to the daytona beach race course and also “fireball roberts”, a 1950s racer (he was actually the reason that firesuits were mandated in the sport), we meet a bunch of 1950s racers as well and just augh.. so good. also, the detail of thomasville being in north carolina is brilliant - N.C is the “racing state”, and thomasville speedway is based off of north wilkesboro, a track that was opened in 1949, and last used in 1996 (aside from the series of races in 2010), and it fell into disrepair. (fun fact, north wilkesboro is reopening in 2024 for the nascar all star race!! they fixed my bbg)

third. cars three brings so much more lore than the first movie did. yes, we knew doc raced in the 50s when the sport was getting its start, but in cars 3? they brought in characters based off of real 1950s racers (doc is based off of herb thomas, smokey is smokey yunick, lou is louise smith, junior is junior johnson, river is wendell scott, and leroy hemming is tim flock) (another reference in the movie is “jocko flockos party supplies” as macks disguise - jocko flocko was tim flocks pet monkey that was the FIRST and only co-driver in the history of the sport. he won a race with his monkey in the car with him :) )

as i was saying, the lore we learn is insane. we learn that lou and river had to fight for their place in the sport, which is similar to what both louise smith and wendell scott experienced in the 50s, they show us accurately how racing worked back then too - they didnt have fancy pits, they had a fence and a pit member with a sign that would tell them to come in the next lap for service. all of these cars are gen 1 nascar, which means that they were strictly stock - they had much more intense pit sessions than any of the other “built for racing” generations have ever needed. i recall watching a race wherein smokey yunick had to change the radiator of one of his racers vehicles mid-race due to a crash.

this isnt everything, but seriously for an animated movie about talking cars, they discuss grief and hardships and handle them so well its insane. i know cruz isnt everyones cup of tea, but (in reference to the flip scene at the end of the movie) watching cruz get shoved into the sport must’ve been insane for lou to watch. she saw herself in that girl. it wasnt some movie about lightning giving up, it was him sharing the torch with another kid who lost their way just like he had.

also i dont cry at movies but i literally bawl my fucking eyes out at the letters scene every time. its PATHETIC (its not im literally tearing up just thinking about it)

[travelingmaster-inspirations]

"Not that I'm complaining, But that's an interesting choice of swimwear you decided to wear for the party..." I said, smiling. "I thought you wear that one when we are alone..."

"I know! I normally do... But... I'm sorry... I don't know why... But this is the only bikini I can wear today... " she said as she posed for me. "For some reason, I get all itchy when I tried on the others. I hope that's ok..."

"Of course my dear..." I said. "I don't mind making a few of my friends jealous by showing off what's mine."

"Stop it..." she said, visibly blushing as she grabbed a lock of her hair to unconsciously fidget with.

*Snap*

"Trance." I said and as always, her whole body relaxed and frozen into place.

"I am deeply hypnotized..." she finally said in a soft monotone voice.

"Today is a special party with a few of my friends." I said. "So I want to make sure you remember all your special social interaction rules. Can you tell me the first and most important rule?"

"Yes Master..." she responded. "I must never reveal the true nature of our relationship. When asked about it, I am only allowed to tell them that I'm your girlfriend."

"Good girl." I said, admiring the small shiver of pleasure go through her body. "Do you remember why that rule is important?

"Yes Master..." she said. "That rule is important because normal people wouldn't understand that I'm my happiest self as your obedient hypno-slave. They would be outraged to learn that you covertly tricked me into my first trance and wouldn't understand that you needed to do it in order to properly show me how happy I would be under your control. In their minds, they would think that they need to save me from your control and do everything they could to steal me away from you. That outcome is unacceptable."

Even in her trance, I could notice the small clench in her jaw as her anger bubbled up at the thought of us being forced apart.

"I'm pleased to see you haven't forgotten how important that rule is..." I said, smiling. "Tell me your second rule."

"Yes Master..." she said. "When we are not alone, I must never refer to you as my Master, or any other name that might hint at your true status in my life. Instead, I may call you Honey, Darling or Mark."

"Good girl." I said. "Tell me your third rule."

"Yes Master..." she said. "People must believe that I have never been hypnotized. If someone talks to me about hypnosis, I will tell them that I don't believe in hypnosis."

"That's not the true though... Is it?" I said, holding back a chuckle.

"No Master..." she said. "You hypnotize me constantly and I know hypnosis is real and very potent. It is the tool you used to claim me as your own."

"Very good girl..." I said, waiting for her small moan to die down before I continued. "I'm satisfied you remember and will not slip up today. In fact I'm so satisfied that I feel you've earned a little reward... Would you like that?"

"I like to be denied as much as being punished, Master..." she said, clearly aroused. "I am your obedient hypno-slave. My mind and body belong to you and thus, only you can decide what happens to both. It is not my place to influence which you choose to give me."

"VERY good girl..." I said, enjoying the whimper of pleasure it caused in her. "You can feel it already... The pleasure coursing inside your body. Caressing your nerves from the inside out... Extending... Deepening... Igniting your arousal and erotic responses as it obeys my commands to grow..."

Her breathing quickened a little as her cheeks flushed.

"FEEL it responded to my voice..." I said. "FEEL your pleasure climb higher and higher as you feel the very vibrations of my low voice enhance your pleasure..."

She moaned as her eyes glazed over with lust and her body swayed even though it was frozen in place.

"Climbing ever higher... Edging closer and closer to a release you know only I can grant you..." I said, watching her breath grow heavier with each moan. "Your body responds and obeys my call to pleasure... FEEL it grow hot with need... FEEL it reach the very edge of climax..."

She moaned even louder as her body slowly broke free of her frozen state.

"Good girl... VERY good girl..." I said, making her squirm. "Now awaken from trance as you CUM for me."

"OH FUCK!" she moaned as her body suddenly jerked, making her right hand fly to her crotch while her left grabbed her tit.

It took some work to be able to offer her such a power hands free orgasm, but it was worth the effort to be able to savor her unique orgasmic beauty when ever I wished.

"Oh god..." she said as she let herself fall to her needs. "Th... Thank you Master..."

"You know it's my pleasure as much as yours..." I said. "But you are welcomed all the same."

"Hhhmm..." she moaned as she bit her lower. "Wh... What did I do to deserve such... HHmm... A wonderful reward..."

"Don't worry about it my dear..." I said, admiring the hood lust I saw in her eyes as she looked at the tent her display had created in my swim trunks.

"Can... Can I properly thank you?" she asked, eyes fixated on my crotch.

"As tempting as that would be..." I said, gently grabbing my erection through the fabric. "I'm afraid we don't have enough time before our guests arrive."

She pouted as she slowly recovered from her release.

"I... I can be quick..." she said, still hoping.

"I know you can and maybe I'll make use of that fun talent during the party if I meet you in a dark corner." I said, winking at her. "But truthfully, I'd much rather wait until you have the time to thank me to your heart's content."

"Yes... That huh..." she said, swallowing as she tore her eyes away. "That would be better for you..."

I smiled and looked at the time.

"I'm sure it will be..." I said. "Now though... Run along and finish preparing the punch before our guest arrive. I want you on display around the pool when they get here, not slaving away in the kitchen."

"Of course, Master." she said, taking a steadying breath before she got up.

I couldn't resist slapping her firm ass as she walked by, earning myself a surprised yelp that turned in a soft moan.

[7s3ven]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU. oliver wood

( master list )

IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.

“I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.”

—

“Ah, he’s staring again.” Fred Weasley nudged his twin brother George and pointed over at Oliver. “Do you think he’ll ever actually talk to her?”

“I’ve seen them talk once.” George uttered, his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out. “It was in their second year.”

Fred lightly snorted and waved a hand in front of Oliver’s face. “Wood, you there? You’re drooling this time while staring at her.”

Oliver was snapped out of his trance by the twins’ loud laughter. He frowned. “Knock it off.” He told the pair, taking a sip from his goblet.

“Oh, come on mate, you gotta talk to L/N otherwise she won’t even know you exist.” Fred sighed and quickly added, “And quidditch talk doesn’t count.”

Oliver huffed and rolled his eyes. Talking to Y/N was an almost impossible feat, not just to him. She was Draco Malfoy’s older sister and was basically untouchable. She was Slytherin’s prized queen and the chances of Oliver even being able to talk to her with her posse around was close to zero.

“I’ll talk to her eventually.” He uttered the same excuse he had been using since fourth year. His crush had lasted way too long but he was still determined to win Y/N over.

She wasn’t like the other Slytherins with their mean glares and tendencies to outcast people who weren’t pureblood. She was… nice. Her friends, however, weren’t.

“You’ve fancied her since third year, Oli.” Fred uttered, “Probably before that as well! Just make a move already!”

Oliver’s crush hadn’t begun during first year. It had started before that when he was rushing around Diagon Alley trying to find all his school supplies.

Oliver panted as he attempted to catch his breath. All afternoon he had been rushing from shop to shop to find all the books he needed for his first year at Hogwarts.

He held a pile of novels in his arms and momentarily stopped to marvel at the window of a broom shop. His awe was short lived as someone crashed into his back, sending his supplies everywhere.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I just wanted to look at the new broom!” A H/C-haired girl hurried to pick Oliver’s things up. She shoved everything into his arms, apologizing again.

“You… like Quidditch?” Oliver asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Huh? Of course. Who doesn’t? My father took me to see a game once and it was amazing. Some day, I want to join Hogwarts’ team.”

It was as if Oliver had met his dream girl.

“You’re going to Hogwarts too?!” Oliver exclaimed, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah! I assume you’re also going, so maybe I’ll see you around.” She outstretched her arm to shake Oliver’s hand, but a black cane pushed her back.

“Don’t socialise with the trash, Y/N.” A man with long blond hair uttered, scowling. Oliver instantly recognized the man as Lucius Malfoy.

“I’ll see you around, Quidditch boy!” Y/N shouted as her father led her away.

That day, Oliver was reminded of where he stood in the scheme of things. He was a lowly half-blood while Y/N came from one of the most esteemed families.

Ever since that day, Oliver had been a little frightened to talk to Y/N, just in case she also referred to him as trash.

Y/N never did end up joining Slytherin’s Quidditch team. Her brother did instead. Oliver guessed it has something to do with her refusal to cheat, and Slytherin was infamously known for cheating.

“Say, are you going to Hogsmeade today, Oli? Perhaps to do a little last minute Christmas shopping?” George questioned, his lips curling into a smirk that could only mean one thing. Trouble.

“If you want to play one of your stupid pranks on me, forget it.” He stood up and silently walked away.

“Ah. He’s in a bad mood because of Y/N again. Jeez.” George rolled his eyes as he stabbed his fork into a carrot.

Oliver was going to visit Hogsmeade, but only to look at Quidditch shops and browse through the technique books. A Hufflepuff girl had asked him out, but he politely refused her offer.

Oliver shoved his hands deep into his warm pockets as he trudged through the thick snow. Hogsmeade wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but that was probably because most sane people wanted to avoid the cold.

The Quidditch captain made an immediate beeline for the broom store. He smiled as he gazed at the window display before entering.

“Good morning!” He kindly greeted the owner, who was an old lady hard of hearing. He immediately walked towards a shelve of books, running his finger over the hard covered spines.

The door opened again, the rusty bell attached to it quietly chiming. “Good morning, Gen!” A feminine voice shouted, piercing the calming atmosphere. Oliver peeked through the books, curious as to who the newcomer was. He could see their winter outfit but not their face.

The girl skipped over to the books, standing on the opposite side of Oliver. She locked eyes with him, and he could see her eyes squint as he smiled, meaning it was a genuine one.

The pair occasionally glanced at each other, jumping when they accidentally made eye contact. The girl tucked a strand of H/C hair behind her hair, quietly humming under her breath. She walked around to the other side of the bookshelf, almost crashing into Oliver.

His heart leaped in his chest as he grabbed Y/N and steadied her. “Sorry.” He said, not being able to muster up any more words.

Y/N silently stared at his face before she gasped. “Oh! Quidditch boy!” She exclaimed, grinning. “I knew I recognized those eyes!” When Oliver sent her a confused look, she laughed. “I’m the girl from Diagon Alley! Before first year, remember?”

“I remember… I’m just wondering why you do.”

“I spent most of my first year looking for you! But I never got your name so it was a bit hard. Then when you joined the Quidditch team and played your first match, I recognized you. I wanted to talk to you after but you seemed to have so many fangirls. I got shy!It’s been ages, jeez. How are you?”

Y/N grinned, an action that set butterflies free in Oliver’s stomach. His cheeks flushed red as he nervously smiled back.

“I’ve… been good. How about you? You never joined the Quidditch team.”

“Well, I don’t exactly like Flint and Draco is already on the team. They don’t need two Malfoy’s.” Y/N sheepishly smiled and laughed.

“I saw you play as a chaser during flying class. You were great. You should join the team some time.” That compliment coming from Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s very own keeper, was a huge deal. “You’d be a wonderful addition. If only you were in Gryffindor.”

Y/N quietly laughed. “Maybe we’d actually be able to spend time together.” Her gaze flickered to the book Oliver was grasping, “Are you going to buy that? I’ve been looking for a copy of it.” She smiled, and Oliver didn’t have the strength to keep the book to himself when she was looking at him like that.

“No.” He uttered, “I was only looking at it. Here.” He handed it to Y/N.

“Are you sure?” She asked, to which Oliver nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you borrow it. See you at school, Oliver.” She grinned again, skipping off to purchase the book.

Oliver stared at the ground, chuckling to himself as his cheeks turned rosy red.

School was finally coming to an end. Thank goodness. Oliver didn’t know how much more studying he could take before his brain gave up.

He returned to his dorm, tired and relieved to finally be returning home today. From his dorm, he heard his friends gasp.

“Ay, mate, there’s something on your bed for you.” One uttered as Oliver ended.

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at his mattress. A badly wrapped present sat on it along with a small card and the book he had let Y/N take.

Oliver grabbed the card, curiously staring at the cursive writing.

Consider this an early Christmas gift and my overdue apology on my father’s behalf (for calling you trash). You’re fun to talk to and I hope to see you around next year.

Merry Christmas, Oliver.

- Y/N

Oliver peeled the wrapping paper, almost choking when he saw the newest edition broom. It was shined and groomed to perfection and Oliver was sure he was going to pass out from excitement.

He slowly grasped the book, opening to the first page that was tabbed by a green sticky note.

On the blank page was the writing,

Merry Christmas, Oliver Wood

And underneath was the signature of Oliver’s favourite Quidditch player.

“She’s freaking amazing.” Oliver muttered under his breath, wondering how Y/N had even managed to pull all this off.

Oliver flipped through the pages, noticing how Y/N had annotated the book on his behalf. He was only falling deeper in love.

“I’m going to find Y/N.” He announced to his friends, who cheered.

“Go get ‘er, tiger!”

Oliver hurried out of the common room, wondering where on earth Y/N would be. The castle was huge, it would take him all day to find her. Luckily, he spotted Draco Malfoy walking down the corridor.

“Malfoy.” Oliver called out.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. “If you’re looking for my sister, she’s at the Black Lake. Don’t tell my parents you like her otherwise my stupid ship will be ruined.” And with that, he walked off.

Oliver ignored his odd words and rushed to the Black Lake. He saw Y/N sitting alone and humming to herself as she picked at the green blades of grass.

“You didn’t have to get me a broom, you know.” Oliver said, startling Y/N. She jumped slightly.

“You scared me! It wasn’t that much anyway… and it was on sale. So you don’t need to worry.”

Oliver spluttered. Not that much money? It was more than him and his friends’ bank accounts! Even if they combined all their money, it still wouldn’t be enough.

“The book by itself would have sufficed.” Oliver uttered as he took a seat next to Y/N.

“Yeah. But I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up.” Y/N grinned as she stood up, dusting the dirt off her skirt, “Merry Christmas, Oli. See you next year.”

Oliver spent his days before Christmas with the Weasley twins and more of his friends. Even Harry Potter was there. But one person was missing, much to his disappointment.

On Christmas Eve, he pondered what Y/N’s words at the Black Lake had meant. “I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up”. Did Y/N… like him back?

Oliver sighed, rushing to turn the lamp on his desk on. He pulled out a thick piece of parchment paper and began to messily scribble down his thoughts and everything he didn’t have the courage to say to Y/N in real life.

Oliver stared at his letter, sighing. He tried not to think too much as he rolled it up and sent his owl to the Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting by her window, relaxing as the fresh breeze blew through her hair. She heard a quiet chirp and opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar brown owl in front of her. It cooed and tilted its head.

Y/N slowly took the letter that was attached to the owl’s leg and got comfortable before she unravelled it.

Dear Y/N,

I know this letter may be unexpected and strange, especially since it’s Christmas Eve but those words you told me at the Black Lake are still stuck in my head. It feels a little lonely without you around. I’m going to be honest here… and hopefully you won’t laugh at how I pour my heart out.

I like you, Y/N. Not just for your looks or your family. You’re gorgeous, but there’s so much more to you that other guys can’t see for some reason. You’re kind and caring and you may as well be in Hufflepuff. Your ambition is admirable and you really know how to light up a room, even if it’s a room as big as the Great Hall.

You don’t look down on other people because they aren’t pure blood or come from a family like yours. Instead, you help them. There’s so many qualities that make you stand out from the crowd and I’m not expecting a reply any time soon, but I just thought you should know all this.

Santa Claus won’t really make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day. Y/N, I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Please Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas… is you <3.

- Oliver Wood

P.S, thanks for the broom and book. I’m still trying to find a gift to top that.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she read Oliver’s letter. Her room door was suddenly slammed open. Y/N couldn’t react fast enough and all she could do was place the letter face down on her bed.

“Father.” She greeted him, surprised that he was even home. He was supposed to be on a business trip. “What… are you doing here?”

“Receiving love letters already, Y/N?” Her father carelessly grabbed the parchment, his gaze scanning over the beautifully crafted words. After a moment, he nodded. “What is his blood status?”

Y/N looked at the ground, thickly gulping. “… Half-blood.” She uttered after a second of hesitation.

Her father silently nodded, his stern face never changing. “I’ll allow it.”

“W-What?” Y/N stumbled over her own words. Ever since she was young, her father had preached about the importance of marrying another pure blood so this was entirely out of character for him.

“That Wood boy…” Her father thought for a moment before clicking his tongue, “He’s staying at the Weasley’s house. The elves have packed your bags already. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N was speechless. Was this her father or a random intruder?

“Good night, Y/N.” And with that, he left. Y/N sat on her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process what had just happened.

A knock on the door interrupted breakfast for the Weasley family, Oliver, Harry, and Hermione.

Oliver, as charming as ever, stood up. “I’ll get it.” He offered, walking over to the door. He twisted the door knob and yanked it open, coming face to face with Y/N.

She smiled. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She uttered, peeking over Oliver’s shoulder. “I just wanted to quickly say one thing.”

Oliver could feel the prying eyes of Fred and George and he exasperatingly sighed, shutting the door behind him. “Yes?” His heart leaped in his chest as Y/N leaned forward with a grin.

“I like you too, quidditch boy.”

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Epilogue

You are my universe, my everything, my sunset. You still give me butterflies, my lullaby. You are everything I wanted.

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: switching POVs (reader is second-person, Eren is third), fluff, established relationship, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), cunnilingus, face-riding, spit play, pet names (sweetie, honey, sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby) 

Previous Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3

Author’s Note: Just an excuse to write a little bonus chapter about these two! Fluffy, adorable, and happily in love! Also a little smut added to the mix. Thank you everyone for reading this story all the way through the end! Love and appreciate every single one of you. What a journey this has been. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated, as always.

It’s 11:45 PM, New Year’s Eve, fifteen minutes before the start of the new year. You leave your family gathered downstairs to head up to your room, shutting the door quietly, tapping your boyfriend’s contact on your phone screen. 

Eren answers after two rings. “Hey, cutie. Hold on.” There’s shuffling, like you’ve been temporarily put in his pocket. In the background, you hear him announce, “Mom, I’m pretty tired. Going to bed now.”

“But you’ll miss midnight!” she responds. 

You hear his dad chime in. “Let him, honey. He can make his own decisions.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone that even you can detect on the other end of the line.

Your boyfriend lets out a nervous chuckle, muttering a quick, “Happy New Year.” There’s more rustling, then sounds of steps going up stairs, ending with a gentle thud of a door closing. “Sweetie? You still there?” he asks, finally alone. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” You smile into the phone, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back. “It’s so nice hearing your voice.”

“I feel the same way,” you reply, falling back into the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling. “How was tonight?”

“Oh, you know, the usual: My mom cooked too much food for three people and my dad has been sneaking little jabs at me. Nothing new.”

Eren officially changed his major before the end of the semester from pre-med to education, a huge weight lifted off his shoulders while a tinier one replaces it, aka his father’s overall disapproval. Dr. Jaeger stood by his word, threatening that he would no longer support his son financially once he made the switch, to which Eren has been preparing for. He has two new on-campus jobs lined up for him at the start of the new semester, along with the weekly music session at the elementary school Erwin Smith’s dad works at. The first week of winter break, he was ready to apply for a few loans to help him throughout the rest of his term. Then, to his shock, his father approached him, informing him that he will actually continue to pay for his education, on the condition that he graduates with outstanding grades and a job guaranteed. Eren’s sure it was his mother who was behind the change in heart, to which he’ll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped his father from making snide remarks here and there. 

You sympathize with him, saying, “I’m sorry.”

His charming grin is audible through the phone. “Don’t be. I can handle it.”

“Where’s Mikasa? And your brother?” 

“Mikasa left this morning to spend the rest of break with Jean. And Zeke had to head back to prepare for some conference, so he’s actually in your neck of the woods right now,” he answers, referring to your hometown and current location: Marley. He adds, “To be honest, I wish I was there too.”

You smile, kicking your feet, belly fluttering with butterflies. “We’ll see each other in a week. Do you really miss me that much?” you tease.

“More than anything.” 

Swallowing hard, sentimental words dancing on the tip of your tongue (I miss you too, I think about you every day), you remain silent, too shy to get them out. Instead, he continues speaking, changing the subject to talk about what his mom prepared and the new year traditions behind them. She decided to do a spread of German foods this time around: pork sausages for good luck, sauerkraut for more money, and lentil soup for even better luck. He tells you about his childhood, popping open apple cider to tip into everyone’s glasses, watching the fireworks light up the sky from a distance, igniting sparklers outside with Armin, Mikasa, and the other neighborhood kids on the street. You listen to him intently, imagining a young Eren with that same signature bright smile he dons as an adult; warm, genuine, full of light. It’s no wonder you fell for him, especially in a time of your life where you were shrouded in darkness from the fallout of your heartbreak, unsure when you’d ever see sunshine again. 

I love you. Every time you think it, you double back, convincing yourself that it’s too soon, too much in such a short amount of time. After all, it’s only been a little over a month since the two of you officially became a couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy to express such a weighted confession? 

When there’s a small pause in the conversation, finished with his stories, you start, “Eren,” ready to admit it. 

“Oh, it’s already 11:59!” he interjects, excited. “How many seconds do we have left?”

You turn on the TV, switching to a local channel that’s displaying a countdown. “Ah, ten seconds!” You watch the clock, listening to Eren announce the numbers in your ear. At three, you join in. “3…2…1…Happy New Year!”

Downstairs, you hear your family cheering, clinking flutes of champagne or cider with each other. The sound of fireworks bursting can be heard faintly through your window. On the opposite end of the line, Eren says, “Happy New Year, beautiful. Wish I could kiss you right now.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join your family downstairs?” he asks.

“Positive. I want to start the new year with you.”

He laughs softly. “Me too. And you know what? For the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited about the new year. I used to dread going back, always so anxious about my new classes. All the tests and projects I had to work on during the semester. Even interacting with my classmates because it was always so competitive. Now, my new curriculum sounds interesting, and I feel good about my cohort. I just know this year is going to be a great one.” He pauses, choosing his next statement carefully. “I’m also looking forward to us. We’ve got all the time in the world now. I can’t wait to create so many more memories with you.”

Your heart beats faster, taken back by his sincerity. You decide not to confess to him tonight, not because you’re unsure, but because you mean it more. Those three words don’t seem enough to express that to him. Not yet at least. There’s no pressure to rush into anything; as he said, you’ve got all the time in the world. 

~~~

Spring semester of sophomore year starts off smoothly, especially for Eren. This is the only time during his collegiate career that he’s felt at ease. While he’s equally as diligent as he was before, he enjoys the material he’s learning, rather than stressing each passing day like he once was. Having his supportive girlfriend by his side is also a huge help, maybe the biggest of them all. He’s never been happier. 

Technically, it’s forbidden for RAs to date their residents. However, that hasn’t stopped them, often sneaking into his room to do what couples usually do. Quite frankly, neither are worried about hiding it, considering the rest of the dormitory residents are well aware of the relationship and unfazed by it. Still, whenever one of Eren’s managers visits, he’s extra diligent in keeping that information private. 

As for her situation with her ex, she has completely moved on, and seemingly so has he. Occasionally, she’ll spot Reiner walking around campus with his fraternity brothers or classmates. She and him will exchange a cordial head nod, polite wave, sometimes a reminiscent smile, but nothing more. Acknowledging each other’s presence, understanding there’s no more left to their story. A fleeting moment of reminiscence about their past life together, gone as soon as it appears. During these times, Reiner will flash a serious glance at Eren. It’s not threatening or malicious, more like a cautionary warning. He can’t blame the guy; after all, Reiner was her first love, and vice versa. Despite their relationship coming to an end, deep down, they must care for each other to some degree. Even as the new boyfriend, he can understand that, so he remains unbothered by it.

Despite his father agreeing to continue the payment of his tuition, Eren decided to work at least one part-time job this semester to supplement date nights or gifts for his girlfriend. His job is being the front desk of the school library, helping students locate resources or manage the study rooms. For the most part, his schedule is manageable. However, when the week of midterms arrives, it gets a little more complicated. The facility remains open twenty-four hours on weeks like this so students have a place to study at all times. Driven by the increased pay during the night shifts, Eren offers to work them without thinking how it’ll affect his daily routine. It’s only after the first night that he realizes he won’t be able to see his girlfriend until the week is over. With her being just as busy with group projects, there isn’t a time they have free to see each other. So, they settle for voicemails and text message spanning the next few days, which in Eren’s mind, pass by like weeks, maybe months. He misses her. 

Finally, Friday comes, and exams are over. After his last class, he heads straight for his room, knocking out for a long nap. He wakes up to gentle tapping on his door. When he answers, he’s thrilled to see her, smiling brightly at him. “Hi.”

Before he can respond with words, he launches forward, wrapping her in his arms. “I’m so happy to see you.” He buries his nose to the top of her head, inhaling that familiar scent he’s been yearning for all week long. “I missed you so much.”

She laughs, music to his ears, warming his entire soul. “I missed you too.”

He pulls her into his room, pushing the door closed by pressing her up against it with a kiss. They stay like this for a while, his hands caressing her cheeks, her fingers hooked to the waistband of his sweats, tugging ever-so-slightly towards her. They kiss each other, languid, soft, and effortless, like this is exactly where they’re meant to be. He’s been deprived too long without her. He won’t waste another second. 

She pulls away, leaning back to look at him. “Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner now?”

He smirks, mouth grazing her ear. “I am hungry, but for something else.” One hand trails down to her hip, squeezing. “I’ve been starving for you all week. Dessert first, then dinner.”

She giggles, nipping at his lower lip. “Are we calling this dessert now?” 

“Yup,” he grins. “Because it’s going to be so, so sweet.”

~~~

Within minutes, your clothes are tossed to the floor, stripped and bare in his bed, sheets twisted beneath as your lips smack noisily with each other. “Can I taste you now? Please?” Eren asks.  

You nod, rolling onto your back, spreading your legs for him. He shakes his head, hoisting you over him. “Not like that. I want you to ride my face.”

“What?” you stammer, surprised at the suggestion. 

“Ride my face,” he repeats. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely sure. I want it so bad, baby.” The way his voice sounds needy and desperate has your pussy throbbing. Carefully, you straddle him, lowering yourself slowly. His hands slide around your thighs, gripping you. “Come on. Smother me, sweetie.” More aggressively, he shoves you to his face, tongue already out and licking at your clit. You grasp onto the headboard, rolling your hips onto his mouth, head thrown back in pleasure. His moans are muffled, vibrating into your skin with his lips puckered to your bud, sucking. 

Soon, you’re coming for him, slick gushing from your slit. He drinks it up, slurping it noisily, his hips thrusting into nothing, cock stiff against his abdomen. “Fuck, you taste so good. Think you can ride my cock now, princess?”

Still reeling from your orgasm, you whimper in response, readjusting yourself so you’re on his lap, sliding your slippery cunt along his erect shaft. He rests his head on his palms, elbows splayed, watching you. “That’s it, baby. Get it nice and creamy with your cum. You’re doing such a good job.”

The praise spurs you on, rubbing yourself on his dick until you’re ready for him, tingling all over. You sink down, cock sliding in smoothly until he bottoms out, your pussy entirely full of him. He plants his feet to the bed, thrusting into you gradually. “I know you already came, but can you give me one more, sweetie? Just one more?” It sounds like he wants to add a pretty please to the end of it, nodding his head affirmatively, looking up at you with innocent eyes while he fucks you relentlessly.

You let out a pathetic whimper, nodding along with him, totally captivated. He smiles so sweetly, the tinge of wickedness in his eyes almost goes unnoticed. Almost. Your boyfriend can be a real menace sometimes, acting tender as he man-handles you like his own personal sex doll. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh. He’s breathing heavily, exerting all the energy left in his being to give you the best fuck of your life. You bounce on his lap until your legs are spent, yielding all control to him. One hand travels up your spine and lands at the nape of your neck, caressing you, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. His tongue swirls into your mouth, pushing his thick saliva past your lips. He halts his brutal thrusts, hard cock all the way inside you, pussy throbbing around it. 

“Open up, sweetie,” he says. You’re high off his cock, too dumbed out to think rationally, so you obey his command, sticking your tongue out. He bites his lip, studying you like you’re the prized treasure he’s about to collect. He tips your head towards him, leaning in close to spit a wad of his saliva in your mouth. “Swallow.” You do, guzzling every drop of it down your throat. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl,” he coos.

“Give me more,” you groan, sticking your tongue out. 

He grins, smooching your nose. “You like it, don’t you sweetheart?” 

You nod, eyes half-lidded as he does it again, his hot, frothy spit coating the inside of your mouth. Arms coiled around his neck, you clutch onto him tightly, electricity rippling from your core throughout the rest of your body as he pumps his cock in and out of you. 

“Eren,” you whimper, nuzzling his ear. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment, or the fact that you haven’t seen him all week and you missed him so much, you’re bursting at the seams. In a breathy huff, it slips out. “I love you.”

Suddenly, he pauses, stunned by your confession. He holds your face between his palms, staring at you with a serious expression. “What did you say?”

“I love you.”

His lips part, dumbfounded and in a daze, with his dick still hard inside you. It’s not what you imagined it would be like, but in this moment, you wanted to get it off your chest. It’s been simmering within you since New Year’s, and while it’s not the most luxurious of settings, it’s intimate and special, especially with the way his eyes twinkle. “You love me?” he reiterates, clearly in disbelief.

With more confidence, you reply, “I love you, Eren.” You nuzzle your nose to his, smiling. “I love you.”

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

The two of you giggle into each other’s mouths as you kiss, Eren whispering “I love you” in between. You rock your hips onto his lap, making love slowly until eventually, you come together, skin hot and dewy with sweat, hearts thumping loudly against your chests. He cradles you in his arms, peppering more soft smooches around your face, intertwining his legs with yours. A perfect fit. 

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

[maxrowave]

GENDERBEND RAHHHHHH

i love drarry and i love women so put it together and you get this, i present to you: Harphine

Harry is consequently now named Harley; Draco is also now named Delphine (Full name Delphinus Lucius Malfoy, however asks to be referred to as Delphine because it's pretty). I decided to keep everyone else the same because the world centres around them. Delphine is the ultimate coquette girl, lana del rey wishes she could be as coquette as her. Mega popular girl and a trendsetter, one day she wears a headband to school, the next day, half the female students are as well. Extreme closet gay, internalised homophobia...

Harley on the other hand is a major tom-boy, as a toddler and young childhood she probably had a buzzcut or short hair because her hair was too much maintenance for the Dursley's. She also wore Dudley's old clothes so she was mistaken for a boy for most of her young life, she only began to grow it out when she started attending Hogwarts and got a major glow-up in third year. and now the multitude of headcanons: 1) Delphine resorts to flirting to get her way with male students, however it is only by accident does Harley discover Delphine is prudent when she flirts with her. Delphine immediately goes red, sputtering incoherently:

"MY FATHER WILL HEAR OF THIS!!!" "good, I'm glad he knows about me so it won’t be as awkward to meet him when I'm over for dinner"

Harley uses this to her advantage and begins to spread rumours about Delphine to finally get back at her for all these years 'Pure Blood Delphine Malfoy, sole heir, is a homosexual?!' It gets out of hand and Delphine's rep gets ruined or somethin

2) Harley is a bit of an artist, she likes drawing/doodling. One day she's sitting in potions class, not listening because fuck that, idly drawing on her parchment without much thought, only for her to realise that hey... this kind of looks like Delphine, and then realising she's just been drawing Delphine in various sitting poses for the past half an hour.

3) Even though Harley really hates Delphine, she has to admit, she's really fucking gorgeous, and in an odd way Harley kind of admires how put together she is. Harley does try to imitate her makeup one day because she wants to know how it feels to be pretty/put together, it turns out shite, Ron laughs at her, Harley beats him up; Delphine also laughs at her. But when they do become good friends, like fifth year or so, Delphine does do her makeup (imagine that one img of the girl on top of the other doing her eyeshadow, that's them).

3.5) Slight extension from the previous one, I mentioned this on my xwitter awhile back -- Harry purposely messes up his tie so Draco can fix it, because Draco's love language is to clean up people, i.e brushing lint off their shoulder, adjusting their collar, kind of like a cat. In this genderbent au, Harley messes up her lipstick everytime so Delphine can redo it.

4) Delphine is a massive closeted lesbian, and is pining for Harley in her own odd way. When they begin to get close, Delphine instictually reels back, because she's used to playing hard-to-get with other guys as a flirting method. She doesn't quite register that it doesn't work with girls, which leaves Harley wondering what she did wrong and why Delphine isn't as interested.

5) When they do finally get into a relationship, most likely like sixth/seventh year, it's very low-key and secretive because Delphine still has internalised homophobia/closeted. But Lucius ends up arranging her marriage because she's an only child and a female to the Malfoy name. What happens next is idk

6) Lucius either dotes on Delphine like a child who is in constant need of being helped and cannot be independent, or never speaks to her ever because he's disappointed he has a daughter.

OKAY THATS IT, I HAVE MORE HEADCANONS THAT I WILL POUR IF ENOUGH ASK FOR IT LOL... i wanna see if I can make Harphine their genderbend ship name, it's cute

also boobs bc im gay and so are they

[starhrtz]

— 001. ACTING FANTASY

CHAPTER PREMISE — you didn’t expect to be dragged into a mess when you made friends with a certain red headed girl, a simple interview day somehow turned to a chaotic mess.

SERIES PREMISE — after a mysterious death, you find yourself being reborn as an actor's daughter. everything seems to be smooth-sailing in this life before you came across a strange star eyed boy during your junior year in high school. this strange yet fortune encounter leads to a spiral of love yet grief.

CONTAINS — 1.1k+ word count uhh nothinh else i think

A/N — oh em gee first chapter is finally released !!! AND YES I DID MAKE A LOT OF PJSK REFERENCES :')

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"grades aren't everything-"

Your parents' voice was zoned out as your eyes stared at your report book, your smile faltered as you noticed your grades have been going down and down. What was the point in trying if your grades would always stay so low no matter how much you tried? You were always convinced that you are just like your brother, smart and the best at everything so why does this sheet of paper differ from what you heard throughout your life? Why were you third in your class, you have always been at the top so why are you dropping all of a sudden? You still remembered clearly, the two classmates snickering and smirking at you proudly showing off their grades. They…don't deserve it, your teeth were gritted as you walked home.

Why was it them who were at the top? None of their work was as good as yours, their grammar and sentence structure needed work… right? Oh, how you hated their grins, you could tell by their faces that they knew you hated losing especially coming in third place but they also knew that you suspected them of using their parent's money to bribe the school. What kind of school is this? Letting people bribe the school staff just so they could be at the top? What a bunch of spoiled-

"Hinomori, are you alright?"

A voice snapped you out of your train of thought, you took a deep breath before looking over to your new friend and potential classmate. (name) hinomori was the new identity you yield after the incident, that grin that they had on their face… It reminded you of your classmates. You haven't told anyone about your reincarnation, your family not your group mates after all they'll most likely call you crazy or just laugh it off thinking it was a joke. Reincarnation… was a silly thing if you had to be honest, perhaps the fate you suffered from really was a cruel one? You plastered on a reassuring smile and looked at the red-haired girl.

"Mhm just slightly nervous about the interview that's all, but you do know you could call me by my first name.. Kana."

"Y-yeah, I know I'm just not used to it that's all! I am a big fan of your work too…"

Kana exclaimed while whispering the last part which you slightly laughed at before Kana was called to the interview room. Yota high school was one of the few schools which had a performing arts program, though it was only eligible to people affiliated with a company it did make you feel grateful you and your friends were scouted not long ago by SEKAI productions due to their recent project wanting groups with different personalities to make a debut under their name yet the company was far from sketchy. All the staff and idols were always welcoming to new debuts, even going as far as a small party.

You looked out the window as you waited your turn, it disappointed you that none of the other members of A✩𝖱𝖠 came to this school so sadly you were alone in this school… You sighed before hearing your name being called out by one of the interviewers, Kana gave you a confident smile and a thumbs up wishing you good luck. You smiled and gave her a quick wink as you walked into the performing arts room, you shouldn't show any signs of fear or hesitation that was one of the things your parents taught you whenever they made you go for auditions.

"I'm (name) Hinomori, affiliated with SEKAI Productions."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

As you walked out of the interview room, you breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps you should ask Airi to make the choreography a little easier later, though you knew you most likely aced the interview judging by the interviewer's faces alone. You sighed as you walked the empty hallways,though you were rather happy about being born into such a successful life it still sort of upsets you when you had to attend high school again after all your senior year was where your grades started going downhill…

“WHAT THE HECK!!?!”

Kana’s shrieking could be heard from further down the hall way. Yet when you reached there you saw Kana along with two other people who you don’t reconsider, but judging by Kana’s face they might be her friends..?

“I’LL BULLY YOU, I REALLY WIL-“

“Kana, there you are!”

You exclaimed walking up to the trio, while the blonde boy seemed to be confused on who you are yet the girl who you assumed to be his sister seems to be starstrucked? Their eyes… were pretty. That was the first thing that came to your mind as you got a better view of how they look, you snapped out of your thoughts before looking back at Kana.

“I didn’t want to be the crying girl’s junior but if it means that Hinomori could be my senior, I’ll gladly endure her whining!”

“Hey I got ears, ya’know!”

You muffled a giggle as you watched the two argue, was the brother too used to this type of situation? It looked like the two weren’t going to stop arguing anytime soon, you sighed and looked at the blonde boy who seemed rather deep in thought.

“Wait, have you worked with Gotanda Taishi before? I think I saw you once in his films…”

You looked up with them and nervously smiled, even when your parents were actors somehow… it didn’t suit right you or perhaps it made you slightly cringed whenever you watched clips of yourself acting though it was most likely the latter if you had to be honest, yet even when you told your parents about your decision to quit acting they weren’t upset. Sure, in their eyes there was disappointment but it held approval as well perhaps because you made your own choice of career paths at a young age?

“I haven’t heard that name in a while… but yeah I did. Why’d you ask?”

He shrugged his shoulders, after all what was he meant to say? That the director, his boss, used one of your quotes that you had said on tv once to try and motivate him? Of course not, scaring you wasn’t his goal and he was pretty sure Ruby might kill him if he tries and scare you away from them.

“Well, see ya, I’m heading over to the director’s place.”

Somehow, you felt it was directed to you yet it caught Kana’s attention, immediately breaking away from her and Ruby’s petty fight though could it really be considered a fight? “Wait where do you think your going!” Kana shouted running after Aqua, taking your hand and following him. Oh god, what have you dragged yourself into now?

please do reblog or comment if you like this!! It rlly makes me motivated to see positive comments or reblogs w tags!!

➜ TAGLIST: @aranachan @cerisearan @miyakoa @yevene @atomi-mi @bajifairyy @itonashi @lxry-chxn @rymtea @kult-o

[fluffysucker]

8. Deep Blue, but you painted me golden

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

Tw: Mentions of miscarriage.

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

I can't believe this is the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading. It means the world to me.

Epilogue coming right away.

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

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The day at Coney Island felt like a fever dream. It was too amazing to be real.

After finishing breakfast, Bucky told you to get ready, and he would help the kids get ready. Choosing to stay casual, all of you were out and in Bucky's car in a short time.

The car ride was filled with Lily and Theo's voices expressing their excitement about the day and all they wanted to do. It was barely afternoon, and your smile was already so big. Once Bucky parked the car and you helped the kids out, they ran off ahead of you, ready to start the day.

And it was wonderful. Between the kids getting in the children's rides while you and Bucky took pictures like any parents, going on rides as a family, and eating so much food, you never had more fun. Your favourite part,however, was a moment you didn't expect. You split up, Bucky took Theo to try a game he really wanted to, and you and Lily went to pick up some food for all of you. As you were talking to Lily, you heard your son's excited squeals.

"Mommy, look what Daddy won." While Theo was running towards you, Bucky was trailing behind with two teddy bears in hand. One is bigger than the other. Bucky kneeled to get to Lily's height. He gave her the pink teddy bear with a smile for his favourite girl and got so many kisses and hugs in return. Then he got back to his feet and gave you the bigger white teddy bear, which you happily took from him happily.You tried so hard to listen to your boy as he told you how strong his father is and how he won over all the people standing at the game, but you couldn't. All you could think about was one thing. He remembered.

In your first few months of dating, Bucky took you to a carnival that had opened recently. It was such a fun date. However, Bucky established an important rule for your relationship. Whenever you were out at a carnival, an amusement park, or any other place possible, Bucky was going to win a teddy bear for you. And he did. You have a big box filled with teddy bears labelled Buckies with a Heart. According to him, all these teddy bears are going to keep you warm and safe, just like he is.

So when you looked at him, you wanted to see if he gave you the fluffy animal as a coincidence or if he really remembered. And you saw it. He did it out of tradition. Out of a promise he made over 11 years ago. You collected yourself. This day was about the kids, yet he somehow managed to steal your heart again.

You thought that after spending the day running and playing around, the kids would be tired, but they weren't. So Bucky drove the four of you to your favourite ice cream place. You sat in a booth near the window. You and Bucky were facing each other with a kid on each side. You ate ice cream while the kids talked about their week, and Bucky would also share how his week was. You were almost sure you were going to get kicked out because you were talking and laughing too loud. Which is why, before you left, Bucky left a very generous tip.

On your way back home, the kids' energy finally wore out, with both falling asleep almost immediately in the backseat, leaving you and Bucky talking in hushed voices. You've reached your house. You got out to carry one of them out, but Bucky beat you and carried both of them as if they weighted like feathers. You opened the door, and both of you went upstairs to the kids' room and changed them into their pyjamas, then kissed them good night.

Watching Bucky leave after a beautiful family day was hard. You wanted him to stay. You would go to bed together, talk about your favourite moments of the day, and hold each other. But you knew this was the right call. Two days of pure bliss aren't enough to make up for everything.

And without the two of you noticing, it became a routine.

The first day of the weekend would be a family day. You would spend the day together. The next day would be Bucky's day. They usually spent the day at Bucky's place, having a lazy day, worn out from yesterday's activities. Because your family day always consisted of fun activities to do together. A day at the park A Picnic. An aqurimium. Cinema. Always so much fun.

Your favourite was the beach day. Bucky planned the day ahead with you. Summer was approaching, so it was the perfect time. Watching the kids play with Bucky on the sand and swim in the clear water under the bright sun was a heartwarming sight. It was a breath of fresh air. That day, you took a picture of the four of you together, which ended up being your phone's lockscreen. Then Bucky took a picture of the three of you—you  and kids—which ended up being his phone's lockscreen.

You started to feel like family again. In every sense, the word meant And not just because of the fun days you spent together, but because, in the face of hardships, you were a family. Like the time Lily had food poisoning, spent the night throwing up, and had a very bad fever. You called Bucky at 2 AM with tears and a shaky voice, telling him that Lily would almost pass out of the pain and you didn't know what to do anymore. By an unknown power, Bucky showed up at your doorstep less than ten minutes later in his pyjamas. You rushed to the emergency room with Lily in Bucky's arms, and you stayed in the waiting room with Theo, trying to ease your panic and not traumatise your boy. You couldn't leave him alone in the house, so you kept him seated on your lap, wrapped up in your arms, assuring him that his sister would be okay. A huge relief filled you when Bucky walked out and told you that Lily was better now. You had to stay the night at the hospital. But you had your family's support, and, most importantly, Bucky's support.

That night, Bucky took in his surroundings. It's 5 in the morning. His baby girl was sleeping peacefully on a hospital bed, the colours returning to her face. He was holding his son's sleeping figure securely in his lap. And you rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the stress die down. All of you were still in your sleepwear. Despite the panic the night had caused him, this was exactly where he belonged. Taking care of his family. Making sure they are safe. Looking after three of them. This is what he is supposed to do for the rest of his life. And just like that, all the remaining doubts evaporated; his demons left him. Nothing can make him leave this. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent promise that he would always be here. He would live his life by your side.

Despite your heart being full at the return of your family, you and Bucky were still a work in progress.

You and Bucky managed to steal time for just the two of you. Secret dates nobody knew about. You were still mainly using Sam for babysitter duties, but whenever he wasn't available, you would have to lie to your friends about where you were going or why you were so smiley.

Bucky managed to have a date at least once a week. It was always something you loved. Restaurants, Café shops, bookstores, and places that you enjoyed Sometimes, Bucky would bring back the act of you not knowing each other before. You always had more fun during these times. It felt like re-exploring your relationship.

Along with dates, there were the bouquets of flowers at your doorsteps every weekend, the lunch packed on your desk with the sweetest note every now and then, the small gifts you would find around the house, and the dreamy texts you would receive out of nowhere. Bucky was making it extremely hard not to get back, but you knew you needed your time. You needed to be sure he wouldn't just get bored.

That is why you avoided physical contact as much as you could. Bucky was indeed a very charming man, but his main love language was always physical touch. And of all the people, you were the one to know this the most. You had fallen under his magic far too many times. You knew the minute you felt his touch, you would give in immediately. Because his touch was captivating. It never hurts you. It always made you feel loved, safe, secured, wanted, and taken care of. You never understood how Bucky was able to express so much through his touch, but it was always so loud. So you kept physical contact to a minimum.

One time, you broke your own hidden rule. The kids were spending the night at their aunt Nat's house. So, you weren't surprised when Bucky showed up with takeout and your favourite snakes, ready for a movie night. It was supposed to be a normal movie night. You didn't know how you ended up on the roof. Each of you is wrapped in a comfortable blanket, watching the stars and moons in the sky. Stargazing was one of Bucky's favourite activities. You loved listening to him talk about the different stars. It was soothing. You didn't know how the conversation went from stars' names to serious topics. Deep questions flew around between the both of you.

Without giving it much thought, you asked Bucky if he could make a wish and know it would be granted. What would he wish for? His answer wasn't something you could have ever expected.

"I would wish that I would have been there for you when you lost the baby."

You didn't know how to feel. Your miscarriage was something you never talked about. Up until now, no one knew. You felt no need to tell them anyway. You moved on, supposedly. You saw in Bucky's eyes many questions, begging you to tell him everything. You had to be open and vulnerable. You knew this was necessary if you wanted to carry on again. Together. So you did. You told him everything.

When you found out, how did you feel, keeping it a secret, losing it, going to the hospital, getting back home, having the kids, everything. You never said this stuff out loud. They were kept hidden in the back of your mind, like it was someone else's story, not yours. But it was yours. It happened to you. You openly told Bucky that the worst part was the empty house. It left you with just yourself and the pain, both physical and emotional.

Bucky couldn't help it. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and letting you rest your head on his chest. He noticed the way you avoided his touch, and he understood. But this time he couldn't. It was too unbearable. The need to comfort you was overpowering. Hearing the full story was painful, but he wanted to. He had to. He wanted to know what it was like to go through such a thing alone. He wanted to do the thing he should have. Hold you.

You felt overwhelmed. Different emotions were hitting you. But the feeling of being surrounded by Bucky was the strongest. Deep apologies filled your ears. And you knew he meant it. However, you could only focus on him. This was why you avoided his touch. Because, exactly as you expected, him holding you was the only way for you to heal.

As the night carried on, it got too late without notice. You offered the guest room for Bucky to stay in tonight. A part of you didn't want to be alone tonight. You wouldn't invite Bucky back to your bedroom. You just wanted to know he was there. And he understood. Despite the sad topic that you approached, both of you went to bed with a smile on your faces. Something tells you that you were a lot closer to peace.

After that night, it got very hard for you to hide what was going on from your friends. Suspicion grew between your group. And you neither confirmed nor denied anything. Which was all the confirmation they needed. They respected your choice to not share until you wanted to. However, they didn't stop teasing both of you. Sharon and Natasha were having a field day with it. But they have already coordinated the threats and promises of torture to warn Bucky once you make it official again. They already regretted not doing it the first time. So this time, they would make sure Bucky wouldn't have to face your two very protective bestfriends.

You would always get teasing texts from all of them whenever they were on babysitter duty. Even if they were the ones to ask to have the kids. They would always make comments about the blossoming romance between you.

However, you never expected to receive this text. In the middle of the day, from Steve

"Why do I have a feeling that the fact that Bucky was unbelievably disgusted by this beautiful woman's, who was very much his type, flirting and turned her down so fast, has something to do with you?"

"And why has he been going on for almost half an hour now about how it is rude and disrespectful to hit on a taken man?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Rogers."

"I thought so, too."

"Heads up, He is calling your babysitter to come for the night."

Right after Steve's text, you got a text from Bucky that got you smiling.

"Hey,doll ♡♡ What do you think about coming over tonight to my place? I already called the babysitter."

Bucky was so offended by the flirting comments, and you weren't even back together. In his mind, he was only yours.

As you were approaching Bucky's place, an uneasy feeling started to go through you. You spent tonnes of time alone, both of you. However, you had never been to his place after that day. So was it a good idea to spend time there? You removed these thoughts quickly and knocked on the door. Bucky opened up with a smile that flattered your heart. He let you inside. The delicious smell instantly filled your nostrils. He told you dinner was almost ready. So you joined him in the kitchen, where you put the dessert you brought on the counter and helped as much as you could. It was peaceful. You and Bucky were cooking and eating, genuinely enjoying each other's company. After dinner, you moved to the living room, where you both sat on the couch, still talking. Unknowingly, you and Bucky found yourselves in a very serious and open conversation. A conversation about what really happened between the two of you. After so many dates, it was the right time. It was another important conversation that you had to have. Bucky poured his heart out to you, and you welcomed it. Everything that clouded his judgement Everything he thought he couldn't share. You understood why he would hesitate to say this, but you were his wife and his safe place. It was a long conversation. You shared your sides and talked about the miscommunication that happened. It felt like removing all the dirt so you could build again.

You turned to Bucky as you were about to leave after convincing Bucky that an Uber would do okay as long as you shared your location and texted him once you were home. You needed to tell him that.

"Just to make something clear for the future. There are millions of men in the world. Only you have my whole heart. Only you are perfect for me. Only you, I would choose every time."

It took every bit of power and self-control. Bucky had, so he wouldn't kiss you. Wouldn't hold you and never let you. Not to bring you in and worship you all his life. But he would wait. Bucky wasn't a patient man. However, he would wait all his life for you.

But today, Bucky's patience was being tested beyond what he could handle. It was supposed to be a normal day at work. He didn't think much of the meeting with a new business partner who was Steve's friend. He was thinking about your family day tomorrow and the time he was going to spend with you. But his thoughts came to an abrupt stop as he saw that man walking into his office. His biggest enemy That god of a man Thor Odinson.

You didn't mention Thor again that often, as it really meant only work for you. However, Bucky could never forget him, even if he wanted to. His hands around you weren't something Bucky could forgive. Which is why he knew this deal wasn't going to ever happen. Steve and Sam kept looking at Bucky, confused and questioningly, as they watched Bucky be extra rude and strict to the other man. It got to the point where Steve had to hit Bucky's leg under the table, but Bucky didn't care. He despised the man in front of him for obvious reasons.

It all stopped when Thor excused himself to answer his wife. Before Steve or Sam could open their mouths to scold Bucky, he turned to Steve quickly, asking if he knew Thor's wife. Steve told him that Thor had been happily married for over six years now. Steve was offended on behalf of his friend when Bucky asked if Thor was the kind of guy to cheat. Before Bucky could know more, Thor returned and apologised. "Sorry, but I always answer my wife. I don't let my wife's calls go to voicemail." And just like that, Thor became someone Bucky could tolerate. The meeting went well after that. Bucky was more focused and open to the deal.

Everything made sense for Steve and Sam as Thor was leaving, and he mentioned your name. "And please, send my regards to her. It was a pleasure working with her. I'm sure working with her life partner would be just the same." Thor was a smart man. He knew Bucky was more than just your kids' father. And Bucky liked that. He was indeed your life partner.

Planning dates was more Bucky's thing. Unless there was somewhere you wanted to go or something you wanted to do, Bucky was usually the one to make the plans. So he couldn't say he wasn't surprised when he got a text from you with a location, asking him to meet you there and to dress nice. Bucky also couldn't say his heart didn't flatter at the thought of you being comfortable putting in efforts again with him. For him.

And he listened to you. He cleaned up nicely. And went to the place you chose. He tried to keep his heart from bursting when he saw the place. It was your bar. The classic bar that held so many memories Your first anniversary, your first date as an engaged couple, and your first date as a married couple. A special place. Bucky didn't bring you to the bar the past few months because he didn't want to overwhelm you or make you rush your decision. But he couldn't help but have hope for tonight.

He didn't wait long before you were there. Bucky always wondered if there was ever going to be a time when you didn't take his breath away. He knew the answer was no. Bucky would always be enchanted by you. You walked to him, wearing his favourite dress that he always loved, then joined him at the table he picked. Right when he thought he could recover from your beauty, his eyes caught sight of something that left him breathless. You were wearing your wedding rings. Bucky could swear he almost shed a tear or two. He didn't want to read too much into the situation, but his heart was doing little dances, making him more hopeful for tonight.

You still find it fascinating that after so many years, conversations never died down between you and Bucky. There was always something for you to talk about. To laugh about. And you wanted it to be like this always. You never wanted silence to take place between the two of you again. And you had a feeling it wasn't.

Bucky's smile was too big when you asked if he wanted to dance. He stood up, offering you his hand, which you took gladly. The bar had a small area in the middle for dancing, which was now only occupied by you and Bucky. The soft music was playing, his arm around your waist, yours around his neck, your fingers intertwined together, and you were swaying to the music. Bucky could swear this was heaven. You were his heaven.

And if his heart could take more. Your song started playing. And Bucky looked at you as if you hung the stars and the moon. His eyes were showing all his love for you. And you took this as your sign. That what you were doing was right. What you planned to do was the right decision.

The night was magical. A night of your dreams. Bucky dropped you off. And got out of the car to open your door. But you still had one thing to do. You moved a little as if you were getting inside, but then you turned to Bucky, who was still waiting by the car, making sure you got inside safely.

"Do you think if we go to the same lawyers, they will give us a discount on the marriage this time?"

Bucky could swear his heart jumped from his chest. His lungs were working overtime to keep him breathing.

"I don't know. But I will pay everything I have, if that is what it takes."

You were standing in front of him, wrapping your hands around his neck. His arms came around your waist instinctively.

"So you want to get married again?"

"Never wanted anything more in my life."

Bucky couldn't resist anymore. He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his. Like pieces of a puzzle put together, a cold breeze of air after a blazing day, rain after drought, home after exile—everything felt alright.

The kiss was gentle, soft, and sweet. Both of you are pouring all your emotions into it. No pain. No confusion. No regret. Only true love.

You broke the kiss, maintaining eye contact. You said it all with your eyes. And Bucky understood. You stood on your tiptoes to bury your face in his neck, needing to feel him once again. Bucky tightened his arm around you. At that moment, Bucky felt like he owned the world.

By a miracle, you loved him so much that you forgave him and let him have you again. And he would never waste your trust or love again. He would never hurt you again. He is going to live all his life doing one thing. Loving you

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @almosttoopizza @ragingrainbowshipl @dexter99 @xdarkcreaturex @nash-dara @paarthurnax59 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @unaxv @missmielyhoran @wintermischief @kandis-mom @aboobie @ozwriterchick @pattiemac1 @noahspickettfence @a--1--1--3 @elsie-bells

[arlerts-angel]

HIII!!! i got an idea from a scenario that happened to a Hockey Armin bot from j.ai (i'm not a very mentally sane person.) and I'd like to request it!!:

well, so armin!afab reader had just started dating when after a game, eren and jean "were driving them home”, which ended up on eren and jean putting aphrodisiacs in reader's and armin's drink, and they ended up fucking on the backseat of the car, while the boys recorded it..

note: omggg~ this one's long but i wanted to try something different! i hope you enjoy this nonnie ♡ please let me know what you think of this one!

cw: hockey player!armin x fem!reader, drinking alcohol, voyeurism, filming, masturbation (fem), unprotected piv sex, pet names used: beautiful, pretty girl, angel, reader is referred to as girlfriend

a loud buzzer sounds off in the chilly arena, signaling the last break of the game. there's 15 minutes left to catch breaths, tend to any minor injuries, and work on plays. you rush to the bottom of the stands to catch your boyfriend in time for a quick pep talk. you scan each jersey for his number until your eyes fall on it, lucky number 13 in black and white.

"hey! you guys are doing great!" you say with a smile. armin turns around and looks at you, taking his mouth guard out. "we're down one point which could cost us the game if we're not careful," he smiles back at you. "but thank you. it means a lot that you came tonight." the 5'6 blondie hugs you tight. you return the hug and gently grab his face, looking him in the eyes. "i know you've got this."

you leave him with a kiss on the cheek and return to your seat so he can spend the break with his team, planning their win. eren jaeger, the center of the team, and left defenseman jean kirstein, approach armin. "we're gonna go get drinks later regardless of the outcome of this game, care to join?" eren asks, swinging his arm around armin. "i would but my girl's here, i don't wanna blow her off." jean nudges armin. "c'mon man! bring her with. i'm sure she won't mind a little detour." armin scans the stands for her, his lips curving into a small smile when he finds her. the buzzer sounds again, signaling the start of the third and final play. "i'll talk to her after the game." he puts his mouth guard in and returns to the ice.

eren stands in the center of the ice, facing off the opposing team. the referee drops the puck between the players. eren quickly gains possession of it, pulling it backwards towards jean. he takes the puck into the head of the stick and swings, sinking into the opposing team's net. cheers and claps erupt from supporting fans at jean's lucky shot. the teams are tied now, but there's still time left to secure victory.

the final faceoff begins with eren, once again, gaining possession of the puck. this time, the team decides to ride the clock and pass the puck around to each other, sending the puck into the offensive net just before time runs out. final score, 4-3 for jaeger's team.

you cheer for your boyfriend's team's success and wait for the crowd of people to leave. after the stands clear, you find armin talking with eren and jean. you decide to just let them chat, taking pictures of the scoreboard while you wait. eren catches a glimpse of you from his peripherals. "you here for a picture, sweetheart?" he coos. armin turns and sees you, offering an apologetic smile. "eren! ...that's my girlfriend." armin groans.

"ah– sorry about that." eren sighs, feeling embarrassed at his dismissal of you. "i'm eren and this is jean." he slaps jean's chest playfully. you offer a small wave and smile. "i'm y/n, nice to meet you both." eren looks you up and down. "i don't think armin's mentioned it but we're planning on getting some drinks, you're welcome to join us. we won't go too crazy, promise." he smirks. "sure! you guys deserve it, after all!" you say happily. "i'm gonna run to the restroom before we leave." you kiss his cheek and make your exit.

eren nudges armin again. "so that's your girl, huh? she's cute, man." armin sighs. "eren–" "don't worry dude, i'm not trying to meddle. she suits you." he smiles at armin, patting him on the shoulder reassuringly.

you meet up with the group of boys, who are now showered and dressed in casual clothes. "i know the perfect place. armin, i'll send you the address. meet us there." eren prompty sends armin the address to a bar a few minutes across town. armin nods. "alright. see ya there." eren pats his shoulder before walking away with jean. armin turns to you, seeming a little nervous. "are you sure you want us to join them? i could just tell them i'm tired." he offers. "no! it's totally fine. i'm kind of excited that eren invited me. i would've been fine with you going without me, but it was really nice of him to extend the invitation." you reassure him. he grabs your hand and smiles. "alright then, off we go."

a few minutes later, your uber arrives to the bar eren suggested. you and armin step out and into the bar. eren and jean wave you and armin down. "hey lovebirds! we already ordered drinks for ya." jean nods his head at the drinks on the table. "oh, thanks!" you smile. you take a sip of the cocktail. armin does the same. eren and jean share a glance at each other that you and armin don't notice. "so, y/n... how long have you been seeing armin?" eren asks slyly. "oh, uh, officially? about a month or so." you reply. he nods at your admission. you take another sip of the cocktail and eren grins.

20 minutes passes. the four of you make casual conversation about different things, talking as if you've known each other for years. armin wraps his arm around your waist and whispers in your ear. "you look beautiful. thank you again for coming to the game." you smile and kiss his cheek. "wouldn't miss it, handsome." you reply softly.

45 minutes, now. armin pulled you into his lap tweny minutes ago and has spent the past 5 running his hands over your body. your thighs, your hips, the bottom of your stomach. he even brushes his fingers across the hem of your skirt. you can feel his dick pressing against your ass. he nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing and circling it with his tongue. "you're coming home with me tonight, right?" he asks quietly. you nod in response. "don't know if i can wait til we get home." he whispers, sliding his hand between your thighs.

an hour has passed. "it's getting late, friends. i say we pack it up here and get home. how about you two ride with us? i'll drop you off at armin's place." eren offers. "you've done enough for us for the night. we appreciate it." armin says. "come on bro, it'll be fun." jean encourages. "when's the last time we just went ridin' around?" armin chuckles. "it has been a while, but–" "we'd be happy to." you interject, nudging your boyfriend's arm playfully.

eren hops into the driver's seat, jean in the passenger. you and armin sit in the back of the dark car. armin whispers in your ear. "my pretty girl... gonna let me play with your pussy in my friend's car?" you shiver. "armin! they'll see... or hear." you whisper. he drapes his jacket over your lap. "don't worry about it, it's too dark. they can't see anything." he replies, sliding his hand down your skirt. his slender finger traces your slit before sliding inside, collecting your juices. "stay quiet for me, angel. don't wanna get caught." you nod and sharply inhale as he begins to trace circles around your clit. you squirm around in the seat trying to contain yourself.

"you alright back there?" eren adjusts the rear view mirror, glancing at you and armin. "we're good, thanks." armin replies, still circling your bud. your heart is pounding hard against your chest knowing you could be caught. the adrenaline sends you close to your orgasm quickly. "armin-" you whisper, "i'm-" he hushes you and nods. "i know. we're taking a backroad, get in my lap." "hm?? your lap?" you question. he nods. you slide the coat to him as he unbuttons his jeans, freeing his cock.

you get into his lap and slide his length into your soaked cunt slowly. his hands on your hips guide you up and down his cock. it's unspoken, but you both know you need to be as nonchalant as possible. the car is big enough for a good amount of space between you two and them. eren and jean aren't stupid, though. they've been watching this whole time, recording. jean adjusts eren's phone, making sure he's getting a good view.

"dude, this feels fucked up." jean admits. "what's more fucked up, jean? them fucking in my car or us recording it?" eren scoffs. this makes jean ponder. "touché." he grumbles. "besides, i won't let anything happen to this vide or let anyone know this even happened. it's for my enjoyment." eren adds, his eyes still on the road. "don't act like your dick doesn't want to jump out of your pants either, kirstein." jean rolls his eyes.

you continue riding armin's cock, but not for long before the knot in your stomach comes undone. your legs stiffen as you quickly reach your orgasm, tightening your walls around him. this sends armin over the edge too, you feel his cock twitch as he fills your pussy with his cum. you shift back into the seat next to him as he adjusts himself back into his pants.

"look's like we're here, friends. thanks for a fun evening." eren says snidely and winks, as he approaches armin's apartment complex. "thanks for the ride, eren." armin says as he opens the door and nods. "here, take this." you offer him a $20 bill. he shakes his head. "nah. 'preciate it though, sweetheart. i got all the payment i need." you smile awkwardly and nod.

you both send eren and jean off with a wave, watching him drive away. then, armin grabs your waist and kisses your forehead. "round two?" he asks hopefully, smiling down at you. you flash him a smile and follow him upstairs.

[venusintheblindspots-blog]

Viserys Targaryen Rant Part 2

Rhaenyra, the King’s Heir

After episode eight of House of the Dragon aired, there were a lot of people cheering on Viserys for his support of Rhaenyra’s claim.

I will admit, the scene was heartwarming to me at first,- a frail old man on the brink of death, getting up solely to defend his daughter in front of a court that may have had grievances with her being a female-heir. That kind of fatherly support, means a lot in a misogynistic society like Westeros. But, what does that moment of support truly mean for a man that had not performed his duties as a father?

Let us refer back to episode one. This scene in particular:

Aemma expresses to Viserys that she does not wish to have another pregnancy after the birth of the child she’s pregnant with.

According to Fire and Blood, Viserys and Aemma married when she was eleven years old. Their marriage was not consummated until two years later, when Aemma had flowered. Aemma in both Fire and Blood and House of the Dragon would go on to suffer multiple miscarriages, that some of Maesters suspected were due to her being bed too young.

Refocusing on the scene above, Aemma tells Viserys that Rhaenyra suspects that the unborn child might be a girl. Viserys is insistent that it is a boy.

In episode one, Rhaenyra was fifteen years old. If she were male, Viserys would have started preparing her as his heir,- taking her to council meetings, send her as a messenger, etc. But he doesn’t, because he wanted a male heir. He spent almost two decades brutalizing his wife and ultimately killing her for a son. He spent almost two decades neglecting his daughter and putting her aside because he wanted a son.

Aegon, Second of his Name

In the third episode of House of the Dragon, we meet Aegon, the first child between Alicent and Viserys.

For a majority of the episode, Aegon is being celebrated as it’s his name day, and he’s the king’s first born son. The King now having son would usually signal a change in succession, since for most of Westeros, sons inherit over daughters. However, by the end of the episode, Viserys’ position does not change: Rhaenyra is his rightful heir.

So what happens to Aegon, the long-awaited son?

Let’s look at some word from the screenwriter, Ryan Condal:

"Aegon is a great example of neglect and indulgence," Condal says. "This is the medieval version of the millionaire's prodigal son. His mother was 15, and his father never paid any attention to him. His father deeply, deeply loved Aemma and Rhaenyra and was [only] having [more] kids to carry on the line. He really didn't want Aegon — he wanted Baelon, the son that killed his first wife."

When we first meet Aegon he was being celebrated. After hoping for a boy for years, Viserys finally got a male heir.

We don’t get any scenes of his early childhood but we see Aegon again when he’s a teenager. He’s disinterested in most things, he’s blunt, he teases, he masturbates by the window sill, but most of all, he’s disinterested and lackadaisical.

After another time skip, we see Aegon again. He’s still disinterested in most things, he drinks, he’s a rapist, and is overall not really a good person.

Within the fandom, most of the blame for the way Aegon has turned out has been directed to Alicent.

Now, Alicent being a child-bride does not excuse all of her actions, but it does explain a lot of them.

In scene where Alicent speaks with Dyana, I interpreted her reaction as one filled with shame, frustration and disappointment. All of the traits I used to describe Aegon, can be applied to Viserys. Aegon is his father’s mirror and Alicent is the only one who is trying to break it. Immediately after meeting with Dyana, she confronts Aegon, and disowns him(well,not really). Were her methods rash? Yes, it was rash and abusive, but who else was checking him? Where was Viserys during his formative years to correct this behavior?

I do not condone any of his actions, but I grieve the person Aegon could’ve been if Viserys had not been his father.

Aemond, the Kinslayer

I’d reckon that Aemond’s birth wasn’t quite the spectacle that Aegon’s was, he’s the second son, who inherits nothing.

When we first meet Aemond, he’s miserable. He has a very low self esteem mostly due to all of his peers having dragon, while he doesn’t. His father, Viserys was the last mount of Balerion, the Black Dread. Balerion represents the strength and history of House Targaryen in Westeros. He’s the last dragon to have come from Old Valyria, and his first rider was the man who united Westeros under one crown, Aegon the Conqueror. Viserys took Balerion on one ride, and the old dragon died shortly after. He spent all of his rule as a Targaryen king without a dragon. We get no indication that he had negative feelings about not being a dragon rider, in fact, he finds power in the dreams and prophecies of Targaryens and Old Valyria, than the man power of dragons. Had he been around to salvage any feelings of unworthiness Aemond felt when his egg didn’t hatch, or when the riderless dragons in the dragon pit rejected him, Aemond would’ve been less resentful about not having one.

So in this scene here, where he claims Vhagar, and rides her for the first time, it’s a moment of legitimacy for him. He’s a Targaryen, with a dragon. He fits in with his siblings and his nephews, finally.

His claiming of Vhagar came with a price, his eye. I’m not going to delve into the mishap that took place between him, the Dragon twins and the Strong boys, because they were children. Baela and Rhaena had all right to be angry about Aemond claiming Vhagar, Luke had all right to defend his brother, Aemond had all right to react to their insults. Was he a bit insensitive ? Yes, but he’s a kid. They’re all children. They do not have the same awareness and consideration adults should have.

The aftermath of that scene is a confrontation between Rhaenyra and Alicent.

There has been a lot of discourse about this scene in particular, but Emma D’arcy and Olivia Cooke’s is the one I resonate with the most :

ED: It’s such an interesting scene, right? My sympathy is fully with Alicent. On the page I was like, Well, she’s fucking right.

OC: Someone’s lost an eye.

ED: Someone’s lost an eye! I’m so amazed every time Paddy basically tells you to let it go. Simultaneously, Rhaenyra is playing quite a basic game: Lie hard, do not back down, and weaponize this word “treason.”

OC: Alicent’s being gaslit massively and she fucking explodes. In friendships or relationships, when it gets to the point where you feel you’re going mad, there’s no route out other than complete volcanic annihilation.

ED: There is something resentfully delicious in it for Rhaenyra, in that she so rarely gets definitively the backing of her father. Early on, she loses both her best friend and her father because they get married. These moments where she gets publicly chosen, and chosen instead of you — there’s a really violent quality of vengeance for her.

No Alicent should not have asked for a five year old’s eye. But her son, has just lost one. And his father, is more focused on the fact that his grandchildren were called bastards. Now I’m not discounting the fact that Westeros discriminates against bastards, but that could have been addressed afterwards. Viserys spent the entire scene promising his court that they’d lose a tongue for even uttering a word about his grandsons, while his son is sitting in a chair with his eye in front him on a plate. Aemond now has to learn how to maneuver around with one of his five senses damaged. (Honestly, I think a few scenes with Aemond struggling a bit with this would’ve been great).

If Viserys had just acknowledged Aemond’s detriment in that scene, maybe give him some reassurance, comfort, literally anything, he wouldn’t have remained vengeful years after the incident.

Helaena, the Dragon Dreamer

The parenting of Helaena is the best representation of Viserys and Alicent’s dynamics with their kids,- Alicent struggling to connect with her child, while Viserys the parent who would’ve had a better shot at connection is nowhere to be found.

Helaena has correctly predicted several events in House of the Dragon so far, the loss of Aemond’s eye being the price of his dragon, Meleys bursting from beneath the dragon pit, and the Dance of the Dragons. The thing is, no one in universe is paying her any mind. The weight of prophecies in ASOIAF is a topic that George likes to explore, and he’s given us a few tragic characters like Rhaegar, who met their doom by interpreting a prophecy ‘incorrectly’.

Helaena is a dragon dreamer. She’s also a dragon rider, but we have no scenes with her on Dreamfyre. She represents the more mystical part of House Targaryen, as she possesses the power that prevented them from the Doom. Yet her father, who is a deeply interested in these aspects of being Targaryen, doesn’t speak to her about these things.

If Viserys had made an attempt to understand or simply bond with his daughter, none of the atrocities his family faced would have happened the way it did.

My sympathy for Team Green stems from the fact that literally every single one of them would’ve been way better people if not for Viserys.