#braves mutuals i love you and i’m sorry

[scherzersblueeye]

personally i think the braves should have to give up a run for every time the video board calls for fans to do the stupid fucking chop

[gamermattsgf]

Cherry popper // nerd Matt p.2

Warnings: heavy smut / mommy!kink (duh) / doggy style / glasses kink / praise kink / sub!matt x dom reader / back shot / degradation kink… kinda / masturbation / hair pulling

Summary: you and Matt are trying to do one of your homework assignments, until Matt finds himself painfully distracted by thoughts of your body instead of thoughts of the equations on the sheets of paper in front of him.

Author’s notes: GUYS!! I am actually so insanely grateful for all of the love you have given me from the moment I started publishing on here. The fact that so many people have wanted a part 2 for this is unbelievable to me fr. Also the fact that the original has almost 1,000 notes is actually fucking insane wtf?? I always wake up everyday and smile at all of the lovely comments/requests people send to me and I couldn’t be happier that people enjoy my stuff, it just makes me motivated to write more hehe. But anyways, after a long and PAINFUL wait, finally, here is your part 2 of Cherry popper Matt <3

“You’ve got me nervous to speak… so I just won’t say anything at all” - Nervous, The Neighbourhood

‘Okay so what about the vector analysis in this problem? How do I solve it?’

You get no response in return.

‘Matt?’

You turn your head to look over at him from your position sat on the floor, a pencil twiddling in between your thumb and fore finger. The notepad open in front of you details Matt’s pen marks from where he had written out the equations of your assignment for you to solve before your tutor lesson this afternoon.

It has been a good deal of weeks since your first session, and each time Matt has come to your house you have taught him something new.

Fingering. Head. Mutual masturbation.

Last week you took his virginity. It was simple. Missionary. But ever since then something has changed within Matt. He’s gotten needier, more eager for you. A text message every hour or so, asking about your lessons. You never tell him what you’re planning though, you like to keep it a surprise for him.

Evidently though, the thought of what you do at the end of each one seems to distract him. It keeps him on the edge of his seat and fiddling about until he’s instructed to get on the bed. Which he does now with a fast pace and happy smiles on his lips each time. You really like Matt.

‘Matt? Are you even listening to me?’

He hums questioningly. ‘Oh uh yeah… sorry wha-what did you say?’. His eyes blink in confusion, as if every word of your voice had gone in one ear and out through the other.

You purse your lips, smiling cheekily at him and shaking your head. Matt catches on as soon as you give him a look that you know why he’s distracted, so his cheeks go pink and he shyly flits his eyes to the floor. You raise your eyebrows and he does a double take.

‘I’m sorry… I can’t help it…’ he peeps, before lifting one of his hands to shift them underneath his glasses. He rubs his eyes, as if embarrassed with himself, before dropping his hand back down and bravely glancing up at you. ‘Poor baby… Thinking about my body instead of my assignment. Matt you naughty boy…’ You tease, and Matt whines pitifully.

‘Don’t say that!’ He shakes his head, trying to act as if he feels physically repulsed by you calling him a naughty boy. But you know he loves it. Just last week he was thrusting his cock into you slickly, whining from above you to praise him and call him a good boy as he did so, his mouth hung open with pants and his hands greedily gripping your headboard to help his hips move. Just as you had instructed him to do.

‘Who’s going to help me finish it now?’ You feign sadness. Matt humphs. ‘I am… I’m sorry. Please I won’t get distracted again, please mommy I’ll help you!’ He begs worthlessly, sitting up from his position sprawled out on his side on your carpet. He leans himself up onto his hands and knees, now used to just calling you mommy like second nature. You didn’t even have to ask him.

‘But baby… you’re already hard. How could you possibly help me in that sort of state?’. Matt’s face falls into a frown and he squirms about uncomfortably, the obvious bulge in his jeans now the topic of conversation. ‘I- I can do it!’ He argues back, his voice wobbling but trying to be defiant.

‘No you can’t Matt.’ You patronise him in response, knowing that there is no way he’s going to be able to sit through any more of this tutor session without feeling uncomfortable and groaning lowly after every time the harsh seam of his jean’s zipper rubs against his sensitive cock. You know how prone to pleasure he is.

‘If we get rid of your problem will you promise to concentrate and help me afterwards puppy?’.

Sighing and getting up, your eyes keep trained on Matt whilst his head snaps up to now fully bask in your attention, the slightest mention of you touching his cock and him getting fed with more sexual pleasure rilling him up. You walk over slowly, before you stop right in front of him.

He finds it strange really, that now he gets more excited about your touch than teasing out a good math equation. He perks up with a curling smile on his face, his eyes dreamy and sparkling. Nodding his head as quickly as he can he bumbles an awkward ‘yes- yes of course… please’.

You smirk and tip your chin down at the way Matt lies on his knees before you. Reaching up one of your hands, you push it into his hair, combing it back and folding it into the rest of his crashing brown waves. He moans happily in content at the feeling of your nails scratching against his scalp, tipping his chin up and looking at you like a baby doe who’s just learnt to walk.

‘Well, you know what I’m gonna say then…’ you laugh through your smile at his inexperienced, soft nature. ‘Yes mommy…’ he obediently nods and coos up to you in a mumbled voice, before leaning up so that he can stand to his full height. He waddles with his padding feet over to your bed, a place where he’s now left a permanent imprint every Sunday, when only the two of you are in the house and left to your own devices.

‘Hmm… think it may be a little too early to use any of my…’. You struggle to find the words for all of the miscellaneous items hidden within your wardrobe. ‘…toys’. Matt sits on the bed and waits patiently for his next command whilst listening in to your debate between yourself. ‘And I’m not in the mood to do all of the work today… so seeing as you’re the one who interrupted our tutor session because you just couldn’t wait, then I suppose it should be you doing the work’.

Matt winces at your scolding nature, before shuffling up the mattress a little further. He smiles guiltily and nods. ‘I guess that’s only fair’. You hum, looking at Matt’s fluffed hair and the glasses that slide sweetly off of his nose. Every time he has to push them back up to the bridge of it in class you have to squeeze your thighs together, because you know how much of a little slut he really is. The glasses are just a front in your opinion, it doesn’t matter how innocent they make him look, he’s still always pussy drunk for you at the end of the day and it fills you with such power.

‘Why don’t we step it up from missionary a little then?’ You finally decide, crawling onto the bed yourself and slithering over to a Matt that gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing and practically asking you to make a meal out of his exposed neck. He already has the sheets gripped within his fists, how adorable.

‘Step it up?’ He asks confusedly, his eyebrows furrowing. But you ignore him, and instead swing your legs so that you can straddle his lap, his stiff cock already pressing thickly up into your clothed core. You clutch his jaw and tilt his neck upwards, his breathing thick and laboured with anticipation.

‘Kisses for mommy?’ You mumble and tilt your head with a questioning sensuality that almost has Matt drooling within a trance. He nods, his eyes looking a little spaced out but your lips soon coming to mesh together. It reminds you of the first time you both made out, and similarly, you slowly begin to rock your hips. He pants at the friction, and knuckles tentatively at the bottom of your t-shirt.

‘I like mommy kisses…’ he mumbles delicately in between the brush of your lips, his tongue feathering out to lick into your mouth as you continuously comb back his hair, gripping and pulling on it playfully. You break away from him to rub your thumb against his cheek. He looks up at you and blinks, his mouth dropped and his lips juicy like swollen cherries after being sucked on.

‘More please’ he whimpers, and lurches forward to reconnect your lips. At this point, you decide to lean forward, making Matt’s back fall onto the mattress.

Lying all of your weight on top of him, he sneaks his hands down to squeeze around your hipbones, his fingers nervously travelling to your ass next so that he can keep you grinding above him as you kiss. But you open your eyes through the kiss when feeling the sensation of his digits.

‘Did I say you could touch that puppy?’ You chide him, and Matt’s hands freeze their descent. He snaps his eyes open and pulls himself away with a pout, your breaths mingling and your noses almost brushing.

He looks as if he’s about to cry at getting into trouble, and swallows thickly before feeding his bottom lip into his bitten teeth. He tries to embarrassedly suppress a moan, thinking that it’s not the right time to release one at the rub of your cunt against him. You smirk when his back arches in helplessness, his cheeks red as he stutters ‘sorry… I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t help it’.

Shaking your head in amusement, you listen to the way his breath hitches when you slip your hands up his shirt, tickling your cold fingertips up his stomach so that you can circulate his sensitive nipples.

‘That’s okay baby boy, I know you’re frustrated. Shall we get these clothes off?’ Matt nods frantically, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes closed whilst he focusses on his breathing.

Both of your clothes come off at lighting pace, Matt practically ripping to get to the supple skin of your body. After he does, his hands are babyishly squeezing anywhere, himself now comfortable enough in his sexual ability to be brave. Both of you lie sprawled out majestically on your bed, groping at each other like feverish teenagers in heat whilst the exchange of tongues between the two of you is messy and sloppy.

Matt cannot get enough of kissing you, he throbs at the feeling of your tongue twisting with his, his naked lower half now grinding subconsciously into your bedcovers. You slap his arm at this though and he hissed slightly, pulling away and looking at you offensively.

‘Puppy don’t do that, you’ll make a mess of my sheets with how much you’re leaking’. He looks down shamefully, whining because he knows he can’t help it. ‘M’sorry! I just really need you- I-‘ he starts to apologise but you shush him quietly by pressing your pointer finger into his lips. ‘I know you do baby boy… I want you to do some revision first though’.

He blinks and nods hesitantly, yourself shuffling up to the end of the bed so that you can spread your legs in front of him, still only in your underwear. After teasing him out of all of his clothes and leaving him feeling vulnerable and bare, you had decided to keep your panties on. It drives him insane when you do that, to know that he is in more of a submissive position than you.

‘How wet do you think you can get me baby?’ You drawl, and watch as Matt’s shoulders heave after crawling up to you with his cock red and stiff. ‘Dripping?’ You add on, and Matt nods his head confidently.

He reaches out his knuckles to graze them gently against your clothed heat and you hiss at the faintest of his caresses. ‘I’d do anything to get you off…’ he breathes, before pressing his thumb into your clit, rubbing it like how you showed him. Your breath hitches as you feel your centre pool hungrily, you folds dampening and getting hotter the more pressure he adds.

Your back arches. How could someone look so innocent and naive whilst performing something so unholy?

‘Can I- can I see your tits please mommy?’ Matt shyly asks whilst playing with your clit over your clothed sensitivity. You nod. ‘Of course you can sweet boy. Well done for asking so nicely baby’. Matt smiles in achievement at this, loving the praise freely gifted to him for the most simplest of tasks.

He struggles to not moan at the sight of you unclipping your lacy set to let your tits rest on your chest freely, your nipples hardened and mouthwatering. You watch the way his eyes hypnotically flick from one to the other and you smirk. ‘Like that baby? You wanna make me feel good now? Make mommy happy?’.

He lurches forward to kiss you once again, dipping his tongue leisurely into your mouth to taste you as he pleasures your clit with the pad of his finger. This makes your legs spread even further.

‘Please- I’m ready to make you feel full now’ he eagerly states through a bite of your lips, and you hum in satisfaction. ‘It’s time for your next lesson then’. You press your hands onto Matt’s pecs and push his mouth away from yours so that you can fully look him in the eyes. ‘Ever thought about doggy style before?’.

Matt furrows his eyes in confusion. ‘Well um… no, not really’.

‘Well that’s what we’re doing today, let’s get you on top of me, real nice and easy’.

You push him backwards and he falls onto his behind. You then swing forwards and spit directly onto his cock. He lets out a strangled pant at this and watches as you wrap your hand around the very base of his throbbing prick. ‘F-fuck’ his voice rags out and he closes his eyes with his head rolling back.

‘I’m going to get on my hands and knees, and then you’re going to come up behind me alright?’ You start to instruct him whilst pumping him slowly. He finds it difficult to focus at times because your hand feels so good, but he gets the rough picture of what you want him to do in his head.

‘O-okay’ he whimpers. You stop touching him and then crawl onto your hands and knees in front of him. ‘Go and take off my panties then puppy’ you tease him, making fun of the way he’s so hesitant to do anything. You then feel Matt’s fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he timidly slides them from off of the curves of your asscheeks. They fall to the mattress around your knees and you clench when you feel the weight of Matt behind you.

The bedsheets crinkle underneath his knees and his warm stomach soon presses against your back. You feel his chest up your spine as he lies over you whilst his bigger hands come to splay down at the outer edges of yours. You look at his popping veins and tendons hungrily before taking in a shaky breath. It’s nice to ache at the feeling of his dominant position, because his heavy masculine difference makes you so fucking horny.

‘Good boy.’

You feel Matt’s stomach clench in approval at the nickname. ‘What now?’ He questions innocently, and you have to smirk once again at just how adorably clueless he is. ‘Now, you fuck me.’ You bluntly muse. Matt falters for a second. ‘Oh right-’ he laughs nervously.

‘Go on baby boy, give me your cock’ you encourage him. At this sudden permission, Matt thrusts his hips forward. You feel him shuffle around before his throbbing tip is pressed into your slickness. He moans throatily after pushing up into you, stretching you out and stuffing your walls full of him. Your breaths are equally as laboured when you feel him throbbing into you, his shaky torso wobbling and trying to keep himself steady above you.

‘That’s it baby’ you coo.

He starts to fuck his hips into you at a slowed and lazy pace. You feel his hot breaths on the shell of your ear as he pants, the bed squeaking below you two erotically at the motion of your bodies.

‘A-am I doing a good job mommy?’ He peeps, wanting to eke out as much praise from you as he possibly can. ‘Yes. Very very good Matt, well done’ you respond back, almost choking on your breath from how good it feels. You feel him right in your gut, just the perfect sort of length to drive you fucking insane.

He whines petulantly.

‘Please! Please call me a good boy, please, m’desperate’. Your legs spread further to let him in more whilst his hips slap against your ass roughly. Your stomach clenches as you groan slightly when his prick presses into exactly the right spot. With your elbows buckling, your head falls into the mattress, Matt keeping a hold of you by possessively grappling onto your waist with his calloused hands.

‘You are a good boy Matt… treating me so well, treating me like a fucking princess’. He smiles happily through his aggressive whimpers, speeding up his hips. ‘Touch my clit baby… I want my orgasm’ you then demand, stabilising yourself onto just one of your elbows so that your other hand can reach back to grab his and pull it forward.

You slip his fingers in between your dripping folds and begin to help him circulate your clit before you deem him competent enough to do it himself.

‘Ugh my glasses…’ Matt moans ‘they’re- they’re gonna fall off’. His glasses slip down his nose and then off the hooks of his ears. His rosy cheeks blush when they patter to the mattress right in front of both of your hands. He feels embarrassed that he’d railed you into the bed so hard that his glasses had fallen off, but you only grinned at this.

Snatching up the glasses yourself, you do exactly the thing that you know will drive Matt crazy. You slip them onto your own nose and push them up to the bridge.

At this, Matt throbs and your walls suck around him. Your orgasm comes so fast after this that you barely have any time to think about announcing it.

You press your face into the mattress and moan as Matt helps you ride your waves of pleasure out, your thighs quivering and your mouth hung wide open. ‘Can I cum inside of you please mommy?! Y’feel- you feel so fucking good’.

But you don’t let him. Instead, you shake your head and move forwards, falling out of him and flopping directly onto your stomach. ‘Be my good boy and finish on my back instead’. Matt whines but obeys, knowing that if he doesn’t he’ll be punished. He wraps his fist around his wet thickness and begins to stroke himself quickly. His hot skin slips over his hand easily and he whimpers and pants when his cum creams out of his tip. It leaks and splatters all over your back and you smile in exhaustion after he finishes completely, his own exhausted breaths wracking his own body.

Flopping onto the bed next to you, he calms, his spent length satisfied and both of your orgasms soothing over your sexual frustration.

His baby blue eyes softly scan over your face, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile in adoration at the way you look with his squint glasses resting on your face. You look so gentle and so kind, and he almost wants you to keep the glasses for yourself just so that he can see you with them on every day. If only he didn’t need them for reading.

‘So… time for homework?’ You mumble.

Matt giggles with a toothy grin.

‘Time for homework’.

Author’s notes p.2: @lovingmattysposts … you don’t have to hold your breath anymore gf, I gotchu. I definitely felt the pressure with writing this one that’s for sure, bc so many people have wanted a part 2, so hopefully I’ve done nerd Matt justice. Also I am SO sorry if I accidentally missed out anyone who wanted to be on the tag list, there were quite a few names and I don’t have the best of memories lol. Thank you so much for giving me and my writing the time of day. It literally means the whole world to me :) P.S. Aww? Such a cutie pie little moment at the end wtf??

Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @strniohoeee @asturniolos @thesturniolos @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @reidsween @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniolololover @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

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[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 3 |PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem! reader

A/N: you guys are absolutely feral for this and I love it, thank you legitimately for all the love. Once again 😘 @ewanmitchellcrumbs ​, hope you luv uwu

Series Masterlist

warnings:  EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

When Baela messaged you with this screenshot.

   You thought, hell fucking yes.

 What better way to take your mind off thinking about your personal trainer’s dick, undo about an hour’s worth of cardio and feel like shit afterwards?

 2 for 1 cocktails.

 Storm’s End was pretty popular so Baela, being the legend she is, booked for four of you to go. Baela, her twin, Rhaena, you and a mutual friend from university, Maris Baratheon. Her Uncle owned the pub/club so she used her connections to get a further 50% off on friends and family discounts.

 God it was going to be a long night.

 After getting ready in the living room, Rhaena absolutely hogging the Spotify playlist, all three of you buzzed on a glass of Prosecco hobble to Storm’s End.

 “Rhaena, take those stupid shoes off” you nudge her shoulder a bit, which takes her off balance. She’s wearing heels that are far too big and far too high for her. Tottling around like a newborn giraffe.

 She yelps a bit but glares at you, “At least I’m taller than you now, short-ass”

 Hand on heart, you feign offense, “Who put 50p in you?”

 Baela nudges you from your other shoulder, “Children, stop it”

 Maris pipes up from behind, playfully squeezing your butt, “Where did you get this from?”

 “Ow! Maris!”

 Rhaena laughs, “Our creepy cousin is giving her personal training”

 “Hey, you” Baela glares at her twin, “He’s not ‘creepy’, just misunderstood. And be nice, his dad just died!”

 “Oh yeah cos everyone loved Viserys” Rhaena mused.

 You give an awkward look to Maris as you enter Storm’s End, giving a name as they lead you to a booked table.

 “He didn’t seem that bothered about it” you shrug as you huff off your coat.

 Maris, sat next to you in the booth, hangs her jaw open, “Fuck you, look at these!” she says squeezing your biceps, “I’m jealous I don’t get to see you in the bikini”

 Rhaena snorts, “Maris, your bisexual is showing”

 “Sorry, sorry”

 You must admit that when you were getting ready to go out with the girls tonight, you’d made the effort. The black cocktail dress hanging in the back of your wardrobe, that probably hasn’t been touched since the graduation party a few years ago, looked tempting. So imagine your surprise to find that it still fit, snug in all the right places. It wasn’t quite warm enough to go out in just that, so you pulled a coat over it. Even here, in the darkened part of Storm’s End, a sort of anxiety prickled at you at how low cut it was. You were usually not so brave.

 It had been a while since Maris came to visit all of you, so the drinks came easily. And effectively being as cheap as water, it was easy to put all the cocktails away. One particular cocktail had you constantly sneezing from the ginger in it, but you were nicely drunk now, engaged in conversation.

 Maris was swooning over a girl she’d met on a night out.

 “You know when you see a woman and you’re just like ‘yes’ she is perfect” Maris swoons, slurring her words.

 Almost in unison you all say, “No”

 “Maris, we are hetero beyond hetero” you laugh, sipping the cocktail and leaning against Baela on your other side. She leans in as well, partially, if not more drunk than you right now.

 “Okay fine, I’m not having this conversation with you virgins”

 “Whoa whoa whoa! Who said virgin?” Rhaena furrows her brows, angry and you genuinely have to hold back a laugh with how loud she’s being as several people turn around, hearing what she’s said.

 “Rhaena, I am willing to bet yours has grown back it’s been so long”

 “Nuh-uh” you point to yourself, head wavy from all the drinks, “that’s me~”

 Maris orders more, “Didn’t you and what’s-his-face break up like two months ago?”

 “Yesss, but we didn’t have sex for ages before that. So if anything it’s me who’s the sad little virgin of the group” you say, polishing off your cocktail to go in for another.

 Baela snorts, “At least until she gets a mouthful of Aemond”

 You almost spit out your drink, glaring at Baela. The alcohol has made you more…morally loose, yes. But you didn’t expect Baela to say that.

 “What the fuck Baela!”

 “Oh come on, she’s been cracking out the vibrator everytime I even say his name”

 Maris sees your bright red face, “Don’t” you warn.

 “Oh my god, as if you have a thing for creepy Aemond?!”

 You raise your eyebrows, “Okay, describe him”

 “Tall, lanky, skinny…I guess?”

 Stalking time.

 You raise a finger, putting your cocktail down to get your phone. You quickly bring up his instagram and show her the one photo where his whole body is in shot.

 Pretty much as soon as the screen lights her face, her jaw drops.

 “Oh my god”

 “Can you two please stop thirsting over our cousin, please” Rhaena rolls her eyes,

 Maris zooms in, “Hold on, I want to see what all the fuss is about”

 She zooms in, really taking him in and the both of you fawn over the photo for a bit too long. Describing everything. His legs, arms that poke out of the shirt he’s wearing with veins. Ugh. His neck, his chest, his shoulders. How tall and broad he is. Just everything.

 “Would you not let that man destroy you?” you ask Maris, snatching your phone out her hand,

In your drunken haze, you freeze as your finger slips and double-taps the screen, liking the photo.

 “Oh shit”

 Rhaena raises her eyebrows, “what”

 “I just fucking liked the photo” you drop the phone and put your head in your hands, vision spinning from the alcohol as well as the embarrassment.

 The girls erupt in laughter, which isn’t helping.

 You find the courage to look and see that the photo is a good ten or so months old. And the little dot next to his profile shows he’s suddenly active. He’s definitely noticed.

 Fuckfuckfuck.

 “Hey, you never know, it might be a good ‘in’ to get him to bang you”  Maris chimes.

 You’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life. And yet, you can’t help your mind wander at the possibility of it.

 Would he?

 He was pretty handsy last time.

 But he’s a personal trainer, surely it’s wrong for you to pay him and bang him when he’s on the job.

 No you can’t.

 You can’t imagine…him bare chested pressed against you, hot, sticky and sweaty from the efforts, broad shoulders closing you into the mattress, large hands splayed across your waist, teeth biting at your neck, prying your thighs apart, rutting into yo-

 “Hello! Earth to y/n!”

 Fuck, you’ve got to stop doing this.

 “Do us all a favour and fuck him” Maris muses, “You’re like in heat or something”

 Despite the embarrassment of it all, the night continues on and Baela is far too drunk to carry on. So being the good friend you were and mother of the group, you pull her hand around your shoulder and escort her home. She’s wobbly at best and seems to laugh at the smallest thing, and even though you’re drunk as well, the situation earlier sobered you up considerably.

 “I have a headahceee….” Baela moans.

 “I heard you the first three times you said it”

 “Can we get some painkillers, we don’t have any hic back at the flat..”

 With an annoyed groan you drag her into the nearest corner shop, it’s close-ish to home, so hopefully she swallows the painkillers, shuts the fuck up and you can tuck her in on the sofa.

 She waits at the entrance while you pay, talking absent-mindedly to a stranger.

 “Baela, don’t talk to strangers please” you say as you shove the box of painkillers in her hand. The man she’s talking to smirks amused at the situation.

 “This isn’t a stranger, it’s my other cousin!” she says, her drunkenness making her far too loud.

 “Oh yeah?” you crack open the bottle of water you bought, taking a swig before passing to Baela, “Is that true?” you ask the other man.

 It could be true. He’s got platinum hair, a smile that spells trouble and that weird cockiness all Targaryen men seem to have. He gives you a bit of a wink, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Aegon” he extends his hand and you tentatively shake it, still a bit weary. He looks at you like he already knows you, it’s very weird.

 “Yeah that sound like a Targaryen name”

 “He’s Aemond’s older brother” Baela says while taking a sip of water, accidentally letting it fall over her face and down her neck,

 “Unfortunately, also yes” Aegon smirks, “She looks a bit worse for wear”

 “We can thank Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails for that, can’t we Bae?” you smile, hooking an arm around her waist to steady her, she just grunts in response, “what are you doing here anyway?” you ask Aegon as he’s now found some interest in walking alongside you both.

 He shrugs, “Just came out to get a few bits, do you guys want a lift home? Aemond’s parked around the corner”

 “Yeah actu-” your mind works before your mouth does and your face pales a bit, embarrassment working its way into your belly.

 Baela has that stupid fucking smirk on her face again, wide and giddy like a child, “Yes please! Y/n, this is your chance to get Aemond to ram-”

 “Enough of that” you warn sternly, slapping a hand over mouth, but Aegon gives an amused grin, seemingly catching onto the subject of the conversation, “We’re fine getting home thanks”

 “Don’t be stubborn, come on” Aegon says, helping Baela down the road.

 A gnawing embarrassment curls in your gut. The last thing you want is to see him. And this is reinforced when you round the corner and Aemond is in the driver’s seat, looking up when he sees three figures. His eyes dart between Aegon and Baela for a moment before landing firmly on you, shamelessly looking down and then back up again.

 You take a deep breath. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

 Try as you might, you make for the back seat, but with a shit-eating grin, Aegon makes it there first, under the guise of helping Baela in the backseat and making sure she’s okay. And you want lightning to strike him down right now with how fucking smug he looks.

 A family trait, you see.

 With an annoyed huff and without looking at the smug blonde in the driver’s seat, you get in the passenger seat, quickly pulling the seatbelt around you. Aemond doesn’t say anything either, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

 Oh God, his thighs.

 Stopstopstop.

 You can almost see in your peripheral the way he’s smirking to himself, thinking it’s all very amusing.

 “Aem!” Baela shrieks drunkenly from the backseat, luckily cutting the already existing tension, “Where did you come from?”

 Aem chuckles lowly and it might be the first proper time you’ve heard him laugh, he turns to his cousin in the back seat, “I could ask you the same thing”

 “I found them in the shop, what was it, Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails?” Aegon laughs.

 Aemond huffs a laugh in response, raising an eyebrow in your direction, “Training going well then?”

 You only have to turn your head a little to face him and when you do, you regret it immediately. In the proximity of the car, with you in the front seat, it’s achingly close. You try to muster up an indifferent look.

 “Don’t live in the gym like you do”

 He smirks, poking his cheek with his tongue, and turns back to the road, putting the car in gear to drive off. And now his gaze is averted, you briefly let your eyes go over him. It was only fair, he did the same to you. And you turn away quickly with a sigh when you see he’s wearing fucking dark grey sweatpants. All those thoughts return at breakneck speed, the sinful, lustful ones you only think of when you’re alone with your vibrator and it makes you squeeze your thighs together harshly, and you swear you see a flicker of Aemond’s head move in your direction when you do it. Not that he shows it on his face.

 Aegon’s playlist is in full swing and it’s not a long car journey, but it certainly fucking feels like it.

 You’re just thankful that Baela is quietly drunk in the backseat, half asleep, so she can’t say anything incriminating about the desires you’d divulged in female confidence.

 “Stop the car” Baela says hurriedly, undoing her seatbelt.

 Aemond brakes, looking back at her in the rearview mirror.

 “Oh shit” Aegon curses as Baela gets out the car like a bat out of hell to run behind the closest tree, halfway across the park. Aegon follows with the bottle of water you’d bought her.

 In any other situation, you’d be glad to have a borderline sick and vomiting Baela out of the car. But right now, left alone with Aemond after the sheer stupidity of the night so far, you want her to come back as soon as possible.

 Aemond sighs, at least glad Baela had the decency to get out of the car before being sick. He reaches for the gearstick to move the car out of the way of the middle of the road. And the smug bastard completely misses and his large hand makes contact with your knee instead. You can do nothing but gasp when he does it.

 “Sorry” he murmurs without moving his hand.

 When you look at him, he stays eerily still, his eyes flitting across your face to take in the dazed, stunned and impassioned look on your face. Your mouth seems to go dry, brain made of cotton, desperately trying to come up with something to say, but failing.

 Aemond withdraws his hand back to the gearstick, but not before giving the flesh above your knee a firm squeeze, burning his touch into them, leaving behind prickling heat on your skin. Seeing that you’ve been caught staring at him for too long, you flick back, pushing your legs together impossibly tighter.

 He seems to delight in the reaction.

 “Have fun on instagram earlier?”

 Oh fuck my life.

 You turn to him, embarrassed, but his eyes are on the road just as Aegon and Baela get back in the car with a few rough and tumbles. You hate how easy it is for him to get a rise out of you like this, so you turn away and just watch the night life go by as Aemond drives the 5 minute route back to your flat.

 Almost as soon as he pulls up, Aegon’s helping Baela out and you follow, just about to shut the passenger side door when-

 “See you at our session tomorrow” Aemond muses smugly. His eyes glimmering with mischief.

 Not knowing what to say and far too horny to even form a thought, you take Baela back into your arms and make for the flat, but not before looking over your shoulder to see Aemond’s dark gaze over the steering wheel.

 Once in the flat, Baela collapses on the sofa, murmuring incoherently. Like a good mother, you put a glass of water and painkillers on the side table, pulling the blanket over her.

“Did you get railed?...” Baela groans, to which you bite your lip.

“No Baela”

 With a disappointed groan, she turns and almost instantly falls asleep, aided by the dizzying effect of the alcohol creeping in. You smile at her, she’s always been like this when she’s drunk. Always the wingman. Or wingwoman, you supposed.

 Halfway through taking off your makeup, your phone pings with a notification.

Absolute.

Bastard.

You wake up the next day shockingly kind of okay. Baela on the other hand is milking this for all it’s worth. Being a Saturday, you supposed she’s allowed some time to recover.

 But when you use the blender to make a smoothie, she groans, “Are you doing this on purpose...” she groans, with a wet cloth on her forehead.

 Forcing the urge to laugh at her away, “Sorry hun”

 She lifts the cloth to glare at you, “Why are you in gym gear, it’s Saturday”

 Your mind races a bit, a blush making its way up your neck and a familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

 “Last session today before the holiday” you say, leaning against the counter to sip the smoothie, “only day free was Saturday”

 Baela pulls a face, as if amused.

 “What”

“Nothing”

 You scoff, “Fuck you, I told you all that under the influence, it doesn’t count”

 “Oh yes it does~”

 She goes on and on and on it feels like, about how badly you said you wanted Aemond to destroy you last night. She seemingly doesn’t remember the finer details about how you got home. You wished you could forget. You can still feel the way his hand gripped your leg so tightly, the bare skin prickling up.

 Ping.

The dreaded ring of a notification. And it’s like he can fucking sense when people are talking about him.

   Dramatically, you flop on the sofa, showing Baela the text.

 “I don’t know how many more signs you need” she reaches for her go to hangover cure, the biggest bar of chocolate you’ve ever seen and a diet pepsi, “I don’t want to hear anything about it, if you do though because that’s gross. Tell Maris or something”

 “Nothing is going to happen”

 “Uh huh, whatever you say hoe”

 With even Baela’s belief in you dwindling by the second, with a heaving sigh you manage to plop into your car, prop your phone on the mount for directions to the address Aemond sent you and drive. Something curls in your gut all the way there. Nerves? Excitement? Nausea? Was it the Indian food…

 You know the answer already but it doesn’t make it any better.

 The car that picked you up with Baela the previous day is parked on a driveway, a black Mercedes.

 Twat.

 With a breath to stable yourself, you trudge with your gym bag to the front door. The front garden is curiously and meticulously tidy, grass mowed and in general looked beautiful. A stark contrast, you think, to the guy inside. For a moment, you honestly think why the hell you’re here. Or maybe it’s just scary how easy it was for you to just…go with it and come to his house.

 He appears in the doorway mere seconds after you press the doorbell, making you think he had seen your car pull up, but this notion is quickly dashed when you see him. He leans against the doorframe on his forearm, having to look down at you with a bottle of something in one hand.

 “Didn’t get lost then” he says with a smug smile. The embarrassment and those thoughts that were loud the night before come back at breakneck speed, making the heat flood your cheeks uncontrollably. You just hope that he doesn’t see it, but by the amused look on his face, he totally does.

 You roll your eyes a bit and his smile seems to drop for a second. He removes his arm from the doorframe, your eyes drag over what he’s wearing briefly. It’s not the black shirt he usually has on, but a grey one with patches of dark  at the neckline and middle, you surmise he’s probably already been working out before you got here. The image of his taut stomach sticking to his grey shirt will forever be seared into your memory.

 Walking through his home is like walking through a show-home, as in, it doesn’t look like it’s been lived in. It’s weirdly pristine, smells like air freshener and detergent. And as you follow him to the back of the house, where you assume the home gym is, you can’t help but stare at the dark grey patch in the middle of his back and the way his shoulders move when he takes a drink.

 There’s some stairs that lead down and you quirk a brow, “a basement gym?”

 He stops at the stairs, looking up, his eyes somewhere else before he meets yours. His hair is up in a bun again, like the first time, with stray pieces falling out, “Yes?”

 “How very serial killer of you” you muse, following him down the stairs, “Should I share my location with someone”

 He huffs a laugh, opening the door and leading you inside with the smallest of touches to the small of your back, “Unless you want to”

 Even the borderline ghostly touch against the small of your back through your coat is enough to make your brain feel like it’s mush.

 What if he’d ventured down, using his large hand to squeeze your flesh between his fingers? Moulding the skin to shape of his palms?

 “Drink?” he asks, strangely more chirpy.

 Pulling off your coat you reply, “No, got my water, thanks”, you try and make your voice as stable as possible.

 His home gym is actually quite big, lit by several spotlights since there’s no natural light. It hasn’t got any machines, but several weights and sit up benches, perhaps he brings some clients here sometimes? Your body shudders inconsolably at the thought of being laid on the sit up benches, flat with him looming over.

 He’s filling up his own water bottle from the cooler in the corner, back to you, “So what were you doing on instagram?” he asks, and you think you can hear the smile on his face.

 Taking advantage of him not looking your way, you adjust your sports bra. It’s a different set this time, since the other is in the wash, a dark rusty orange two-piece. He turns just as you’re pulling your hair up into a bun, eyes hooded and trained on you before briefly flitting across the new outfit.

 “Stalking your creepy profile” you answer, disinterested.

 He raises an eyebrow, “Creepy?”

 “That’s what Rhaena said”

 “Ah” he responds, “she would”

 “Why’s that?”

 He motions loosely to his eye that you supposed he was blind in, “Freaks people out”

 You furrow your brows, “Why would it freak people out?”. You ask it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s quiet for a moment, tapping his fingers against his water bottle in thought.

 “Does it not freak you out?”

 You shake your head softly, “No”

 He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he takes a sip of water and it makes your thighs feel somewhat like jelly.

 “Right, stretches”

 Oh boy.

 It’s almost as bad as the first time you’ve done them together, except he’s extra handsy, smirking with the knowledge that you were talking about him in your spare time. This time, when you’re doing the 60 second planks on the mat, his hand stays there on your back, moving every now and then slowly between your shoulders, to the nape of your neck. And there’s no mirror in his home gym, so you’re only hoping and praying that he’s not taking this opportunity to look at you in the skin tight leggings too closely.

 Although secretly, you kind of hope he is.

 “That’s it...” he praises lowly, and it takes you so off guard that you think you might just crack. But you resort to just biting your lip, trapping the skin between your teeth painfully.

 Squats are genuinely no better. He stays behind you the entire time, achingly close with his hands on his hips and everytime you go down to do one, you can’t help the desperate thrum of anticipation in your belly as you make contact only very slightly with his leg.

 Once you’re done with stretching and core, with the lack of windows in the room you’re in, it’s very hot and you wipe your forehead a little, slightly out of breath as you take a sip of water. Feeling as if you are being watched you turn your head slightly and see him sat on the sit-up bench watching you intensely.

 “Shit” you curse as some water leaks out of the bottle onto your chest and right down your sports bra. You try and wipe it away quickly, your chest already glistening with sweat. But when you look up, you see his eyes quickly flit from there to your eyes, darkened. One of his thighs jitters as he bounces his leg, as if aggravated.

 “Sorry” you breathe, grounding yourself, “what next” you ask, desperately trying to lighten the tension.

 “Bench press” he responds, and there’s that same tone he used last time. The tone that he used after literally scaring your ex away. But you swallow thickly and nod and sit where he once was.

 He explains how to do it and you take it all in a bit until you realise he’s going to be standing right behind you and your cheeks flood with heat again, tingling down the back of your neck. He just stands there as he usually does, but from this angle (and it’s very difficult to not look at this point) your head is right at his waistline and had there not been 30kg combined in your arms right now, you probably would have given more of a reaction to it.

 But you do your reps, with him watching in silence, seeing you break a sweat. As far as you are aware, his eyes forever on your form, but really it’s zoned in on that shadow that disappears down your sports bra and at the exposed bit of midriff beneath that to your leggings.

 As you’re doing the last few, he rounds the side and places his hand flat on your ribs, right under your sports bra’s hem and you freeze, an involuntary gasp escapes.

 When you meet eyes, he’s already regarding you.

 “Relax”

 Licking your lips nervously, you nod and breathe in and out deeply. But he never takes his hand off you, almost making sure you’re doing what he says.

 The next few reps are probably the most difficult. Never being able to stop thinking about his fingers on your bare skin, his thumbs drawing very very small circles on the hot flesh there. The air feels charged, as if one wrong move could ignite something, like striking a flame near gas.

 He moves his hand lower to your abdomen, making you freeze and look at him again. There’s no smug smile on his face, just a hooded, promiscuous expression, one that makes a deep, blurry thrum right where his hand is.

 “Push here”

 You try and do as he says for the last few, but it’s hard with the way he’s staring at you. And when you let out a huff and put the weights back where they belong on the rack, he nods slightly.

 “Good girl”

 He sees the way your face flushes this time, but makes no comment on it. Instead he rights himself to stand, extending his toned arm to you to help you up, not breaking the intensity of his look.

 It really does happen too quickly to know who did it. All you remember is taking his hand to pull yourself up. The next. Both his hands are around your waist, nearly encompassing them with how big they are, and the way they slide against your glistening skin rouses you in places you didn’t even know existed.

 There’s not even time to say anything when he locks his lips with yours, pushing you harshly against the wall with a thud that makes you gasp into his hot mouth. It’s messy, chaotic, a clashing of desperate lips and when he brushes your lower lip with his tongue it’s embarrassing how good it feels. He pushes you against the wall so harshly by your waist that you think he’s trying to embed you into it, hands clasped tightly around you in frustration, his fingertips creating marks where they are fixed.

 Amongst all this, he presses his firm, lithe body against yours and you let out the quietest of moans with the realisation that he is desperately hard beneath the sweatpants he’s wearing, pressing it into your thigh.

 “Fuck…” he breathes as his hand snakes up your front to take hold of your jaw, kissing with such need that it almost feels like too much.

 All this time your hands have had no idea what to do, but one slides to the nape of his neck, gripping harshly and completely destroying the style his hair had been in. The other runs over the slick skin of his forearm, tracing the veins there, and how they seem to thrum with every beat of his heart, faster with the desire that courses through them.

 “Fucking perfect…”

 Words fail you at this point, his fingers digging into the sides of your face make you realise he’s keeping you right where he wants you, attacking your mouth with his in a way that’s not really happened to you before. And that little breathy moan escapes once again when his teeth nip at your lip as he pulls away, immediately dipping to your neck to kiss and suck the delicate skin there, his hips pushing against yours with hunger.

 You wonder what his hands would feel like wrapped around your neck, squeezing gently, or maybe not so gently. If his hands would just go that bit lower…if your hands just dipped beneath the hem of his shirt…down the sweatpants…

 Buzz buzz.

 Snapped out of this hot, heavy trance, Aemond steps back a little and you duck underneath his arm, not daring to look back at him at the fear you might stay and fuck up this entirely professional relationship. You desperately look at your phone, a missed call from Baela.

 But that’s all the excuse you need, you hurriedly pack up your stuff, “S-sorry…I..” you start but with no vocabulary to actually finish. Your core is still spurring with delight with what you’ve just done, taking all the power from your brain.

 Looking back briefly, he looks a bit dishevelled but still ridiculously too good, flushed in the face and his chest gently heaving, and with that ghost of a smile on his face. Not smug this time, to your delight.

 “Um, sorry I have to go…thanks, Aemond” you excuse promptly. Even the very swift walk back to the car is a blur. It’s only when you’re in the driver’s seat, intensely gripping the steering wheel that it all slots into place.

 Your fingers go to your lips and all the places his hands had touched you. They’re on fire. Begging for more. And you feel your breath in your lungs stutter at the memory of it. Aemond stands at his window, watching with acute amusement that you’re still sat there, absolutely dumbstruck by what’s happened.

 Baela pings you in the wake of her missed call.

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@mrsgrwy​ @lovelykhaleesiii​@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid​ @namelesslosers​  @chainsawsangel​ @warmfieldofgrass​ @mynameisbaby9​ @afro-hispwriter​ @tempo-rary-fix​ @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans​ @svtansdaddyx​ @tssf-imagines​ @darkenchantress​ @vrtualfairy​ @fan-goddess​ @skikikikiikhhjuuh​ @helaenaluvr​ @sarahkimtae​ @blackxisxmyxcolour​ @castellomargot​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @julczimozart​ @amazingdisneyfansblog​ @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss​

[ruiniel]

Re your or if bounds explicit post- what about alucard having to drink reader's blood out of necessity and discovering his bite has an aphrodisiac effect? So he goes from starving-near-feral to having to sate other needs 🥴

Love your work, and hope you're having a wonderful day! 💙

Another classic... Since it's the winter solstice, tried to add your prompt into something thematic. Two parts.

The closest warmth

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: M/🔞

Count: 2.3k

Tags & Warnings: aftermath of violence, injury, developing relationship, mutual pining, a pinch of winter solstice magic, unresolved emotional tension, He's just So, Second Person POV, hurt/comfort, blood kink, angst, denial, vampirism, eventual smut, a lot of smut, in part II that's all it is really

Also on AO3

I.

His face is gaunt and his eyes are restless as he looks at you standing in the doorway.  

He’s never been much of a liar, you think, the crumbling facade he tries to keep in place as obvious proof.  

“Please leave.”

You’re still there, a hand on your chest, covering the hot spiral of life within. 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’m… well aware of that,” Adrian mutters, fumbling with medical supplies, scattering them in the process.

It is useless, since the bounty hunter's blade was coated in an alchemical blend that hinders his fast-healing abilities. You stare at the trickled trail of blood following in his wake, your breath trembling in your lungs. 

He’s long shrugged off his coat, and his gloves lie somewhere on the desk. There is a blooming pattern of blood on his white shirt, right below his ribs. You approach even as he falls into a chair, a needle between his teeth as he undoes his garment, concentrating on cleaning the gash; biting down a hiss.

“Let me,” you say, and when he’d usually scoff and decline, his lashes now tremble as he raises his face to look at you, his hand pressed over the compress to the wound. “Please?”

You kneel beside him without waiting for a reply, “You’ll mend,” you slowly peel away the soaked cloth, rising and finding a bowl to throw it in.

“I… know, I…” your eyes meet as you urge him to change position, and great is your surprise when, for once, Adrian complies with your ask. His face is ashen, and sweat beads on his forehead where silver-gold strands kiss the skin. 

The surgical area provides more items, and swiftly you go and return, bearing other vials and bottles.

He’s taught you some of this, mostly to help yourself—you now wonder at the irony, but commend his foresight. “You needn’t… I can—” Adrian tries, interrupted by a gasp as you apply more pressure to staunch the bleeding. 

“I know you can.” Where is this implausible calm coming from? It seems the lessons haven’t been useless. “But this is faster, isn’t it?” He hasn’t wasted his time on you and a part of you is proud enough to think about it, but not petty enough to bring it up now.

You stare back at him and catch the exhaustion in his eyes, taking root in his composure: he’s turned to sit on the table at your behest, leaning back on his arms. You both escaped with your lives, and the gratitude you feel is only surpassed by the heaviness in your chest because the truth is: it hurts to see his pain. 

But he’s a brave one, the scar crossing his torso a reminder you cannot unsee. The smell of raw flesh and his panting breaths washing over you is more distracting than you’d thought. 

It’s a silent sign of trust, you know, him being here, allowing you to touch him, allowing you to help. Great strides have been made before, despite the wall he still keeps between himself and anyone else with a heart. 

When it’s over and you unwind, the signs of depletion show themselves—he knows it too. His eyes say more than he’s capable of conveying. I’m sorry I’m weak. I’m sorry I needed you. 

And then you’re helping him to his chamber, slowly crawling by the walls in silence, his form stooped and movement sluggish, lacking the speed or elegance you’re used to. 

When he falls into bed, his eyes close, features smoothed by relief. 

Wiping your forehead with your sleeve, you can’t help but feel the same. You sit on the opposite edge of the bed for a moment to catch your breath, to let the reality of this settle. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a gentle shadow on the walls. Silence hangs in the air, broken only by the faint hum of the wind. The scent of disinfectant lingers, as does the sight of his raw flesh. “I’ll come by to check on you.”

There comes no answer, and when you look his way, Adrian has already fallen unconscious. 

A shivering ray spills light over your eyes. Groggily, senses return, as does the need to stretch and move. You find yourself in a strange place. It’s not until your eyes meet Adrian’s, that you remember where you last were—and still are. You’ve fallen asleep right across from him, in his bed, something that any other time might have caused a rush of heat and an urgent need to disappear. 

Your unlikely patient looks at you, a lost expression on his face.

“I slept where I lay, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” And he leaves it at that.

“How are you feeling?”

He shakes his head, and you slide off the bed, going around it. “Fever,” you say as you check. He’s burning, and that sends a spiral of worry down your gut. 

You leave quietly, only to reappear with water, kitchen scraps, and willow bark extract discovered in the laboratory. You’re slightly out of breath, but Adrian makes it easy—he’s silent throughout, barely a groan of pain as you check on the wound, met with visible signs of infection.

“Damn this,” the words escape as your self-assurance crumbles, but you attempt to clean the area as well as you can. 

A hand is placed over yours. “Leave it.”

It rankles how he disregards not only himself but you as well. As if he’s the only one who cares if he lives or dies.

“Truly?” you ask, and the rush of everything comes through the one word, but you don’t look at him as you finish your task. “Do you remember anything at all to help?”

Adrian looks at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “No.”

You rise, desperate to prove him wrong. Your gaze is drawn to the outside, where blankets of snow engulf the world, falling and falling. There is something. There must be.

“Adrian. Adrian, look!” You all but trip in your rush to his side, thrusting a manuscript in his line of sight. “I told you there’s something. Here.”

Still fevered, he throws one apathetic glance at the page, then averts his gaze with a sigh.

There’s a strange irregularity within, as though your heart has failed its rhythm. “You knew.” The manuscript lands on the bed. “You knew, and you said nothing?! Adrian, this will mend you.” You kneel by the side of the bed. 

“No,” he murmurs. “I’ve never done that before.”

Impotent ire. “That’s not a reason to disregard a good chance.”

He looks your way then, with a wretchedness that bares him to you, spirit and fears and all.

“Nothing will happen. It’s… think of it as a medical procedure.”

Adrian shakes his head, brow knitting in pain. “Enough… No.”

Your fists are shaking on the sheets. “Do you want to die that badly?”

Silence. 

“Do you really… not care about anything?” If your voice is frantic, bordering on hysterical, you’re past caring.

Adrian swallows, tired eyes staring at the ceiling. “I don’t… want to harm you.”

Gently, you cup his cheek; he leans into the touch, and desperate affection makes your eyes sting. “I’m not afraid.”

His dry lips part as you slowly rise, but no words come out, nothing to prevent you from crawling up onto the cold bed. “I want you to heal, so you can be your own insufferable self again, all right?” 

Adrian minds not the barb, but frissons wrack his body all the stronger. 

Desperate, you undo the fastenings at your neck, baring skin with methodical care and shaking fingers even as his gaze flies to the soft fluttering beneath. Now you know what would help, but knowing something is not the same as having the courage to offer it. 

The closest warmth to take, to regain balance…

He watches your collected demeanor with a clenched jaw, lying there as helpless as you’ve never seen him. “Adrian.”

He presses his eyes closed, but you feel the weak slide of his fingers between your shoulder-blades when you prop a palm by his head. “You’re shaking,” he says.

“No more than you.” You steal a glance outside, to the hypnotic dance of falling snow, feeling cold fingers gliding to cup your head—but then. “No, I’m… I’m sorry. This is not fair, you’re vulnerable and… I shouldn’t be doing this, I didn’t mean to force this on you…” you slowly take to righting yourself, a ray of reason hissing in your heart like a hot iron bar.

“... Wait …” 

The word, spoken so weakly, has a power on its own—your eyes fly open, meeting his. His skin is ashen, the amber of his eyes dulled, a visible shade, a wraith in the lengthening twilight. “Adrian…” you murmur, tirade ceasing, body mellowing on the thought you don’t voice: I can’t lose you now, in this way. 

And even as the thought dies, your body follows the slow heed of his touch, lower: your clothes feel like shackles over skin even as his grip turns rigid, as your breath washes over his cheek when your face is pressed to the sheets.

“Thank you,” he says, a wisp spoken as his cold nose presses to your skin. 

An arm is wound around your waist, his other hand in your hair; your heart beats against him—now you hear it, slow as dripping honey but it’s there. 

Your eyes press shut against all thoughts of turning away, though this is the very last trial you thought you’d ever be in: of cold fangs grazing skin and your defenses. 

Pain. You might have wailed, or perhaps not, but shadows creep upon the walls as the awful sensation shoots through your being, akin to a burning cut; you are still against him, paralyzed. The ache subsides as swiftly as it burst, and you find yourself listening: to the nervous, imperceptible tautness of muscles beneath, cording around you. A soft groan pressed into your neck, the subtle bob of his throat with each swallow.

The world raging outside is shut away, your perception narrowed to the coil of heat at your center, brimming like a freshly kindled fire. His arm winds around you tighter, the fingers at the nape of your neck trace up and down, feeling every nook in your spine before gliding up again.

Your voice has long left you though your mouth opens to—speak, but all it yields are incoherent sounds, and a wildness ripens inside as you feel the strength returning to his limbs, now winding around you, holding you impossibly tight. It feels… good; exquisite. You murmur or moan, you’ve stopped caring, dropped all inhibitions like old garments no longer suited. You’d want more, or was that him? Your mind melds with something indefinable, as weaved as your bodies have become. You realize this late as a delirious warm lick traces your skin, slowly lapping with a tenderness that quickens your breaths, now that you’ve come to hear them again.

Reality seeps into your mindless wandering, sensations and all, and you perceive what is: at some point, he’s dragged you atop him; his arm is painfully tight across your form, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your rear. You find it difficult to breathe, rising and falling with his chest, so overwhelmingly afire you could fall apart here and now; something hardens against your abdomen, and the slightest of movements elicits a gasp. 

“...Adrian?” You try moving your hips, while a remote part of you thinks it not a good idea in the slightest—but you haven’t a care in the world to show for it. You try again; there’s no answer but a delicious, hot twitch against your abdomen, and a sigh. “Are you…”

He nods against you, his fingers slackening in your hair as you move your head, and dizziness takes hold. The room is spinning, so you focus on him. You ask him, wordlessly, was it enough, did it work? 

The soft stains on his lips should make you uneasy—perhaps? But all you want, all you desperately want is to kiss them off, to taste the bright red. 

And Adrian stares at you with bright copper irises, with drunkenness you've never seen on his features since you've known him. You can’t place it, but it speaks of something you also feel: more. 

Your hand reaches, slowly, to feel along his ribs, gingerly following the bandaged area as you hold his gaze: there’s nothing but hot skin where a grievous wound had been moments ago, and the purest relief has you crashing all over again, the blood leaping in your veins. You let yourself fall slack against him, hands catching in his hair, forehead pressed to his collarbone. “I was so worried… damn it, you’re so stubborn, so-so stubborn…”

It’s the realization of what you’ve done and what you’re doing now that hits like a bucket of ice-cold water. Somewhere between hunger and mortification, you’re trapped in a pitiful balancing act, and you rise so suddenly that your head spins anew. 

“Careful,” Adrian speaks, appearing to regain himself, slower than you to awaken from his trance. His touch weaves off you like silk as you suddenly rise, untangling yourself from him and falling to the side.

You stare, feeling the loss: he looks so alive, visibly better in health, golden in the weak candlelight as he watches you with that same vulnerability from before—and saying nothing.

Outside, night has fallen early, and offhandedly you remember it’s supposed to be one of the longer ones. A blizzard has begun to wail, rising harshly in your ears. Everything reaches deeper, sounds seem to burrow higher and lower than before, and colors vibrate like tiny heartbeats. “I’ll… I have to go. I’m glad, glad-you’re-better.” 

Adrian calls your name once but does not attempt to stop you even as you struggle out of bed, nearly falling over while setting yourself free from the sheets and rushing off on wobbling legs. You make it to the door, towards a pathetic escape.

Something aches and feels as out of place as you do. Leaning against the frigid walls you smother it or try, but the fire burns low in your abdomen, trailing behind you like blood loss as you walk away. 

TBC

[honeybcj]

ftm Barty + demisexual cis Evan who truly only has the hots for Barty, like that's his only target (this is awfully specific but I'm writing them as side characters on a fic and I really would love to hear your take on this bc I love your headcanons)

have an awesome week!

so so so sorry for getting to this so late, but i have finally put all of my thoughts together because i am absolutely eating this shit up. evan genuinely feels so valid and seen and heard when it comes to his feelings. i think for me, something i love to hc when it comes to barty is that he’s actually an extremely accepting person. he’s a stark contrast of everything that his father is. he’ll do anything to get a rise out of his father, and of course when he finally transitions, it’s like the ultimate fuck you to his dad for all the shit he went through. he’s like “fuck this, i’m living my life for me” and he’s obsessed with evan because, in turn, evan is one of the first people he feels completely comfortable coming out to. they both take care of each other, even in the most extreme sense. they’d kill for each other. evan even has a whole plan of dismembering bartemius crouch sr.

barty is patient with evan, and evan listens to everything that barty is going through. they have such an intense mutual respect for each other. like Really Intense. it’s always been each other, even before they really admitted to how they felt. evan isn’t a super emotional person overall, but the feelings he builds for Barry are unlike any other. they are sacred and heavily protected by barty. he’d rather put a gun to his own head than see anything ever happen to evan.

everyone thinks evan is just playing some sort of game when it comes to relationships, but when he’s with barty, barty never expects more, but it pleasantly surprised and fucking elated when evan finally confesses his feelings. evan spends lots of time in barty’s hoodies, letting himself be taken care of instead of feeling like he has to put on some sort of brave face for others. it’s just easy with the two of them.

having each other’s attention is the only thing that matters. they literally don’t need anyone else. everything falls into place once they are together. they navigate things easily and respectfully. but they aren’t afraid to put up a fight if something feels off (whether it be with each other or someone outside of their relationship).

evan is the one to go with barty for his first gender-affirming haircut and they go out and get a whole new wardrobe together just to make sure barty feels most comfortable in his body. evan would be the kind of guy to kick back on one of the sofas in the changing room area while barty shows off all the clothes he picked out. and evan can’t help but smile at how good barty looks because he’s actually confident in his appearance when trying on clothes that feel good on his body.

i am pretty sure i could go on for ages about this, but i will stop right there for the sake of getting too invested. however, i’d be more than happy to share any other thoughts and feelings on them <333 mwah!

[ntyfool]

OUR SUMMER.

chapter thirteen – daylight.

previous. series masterlist. next.

You shifted from side to side trying to find a better position in your tent, one that would aloud sleep to come, but nothing seemed to help. It was already 23:00 and you’ve never felt so awake. Huffing and quickly getting up, you headed to the exit.

As much as it was hard to admit, Neteyam’s words hammered in your brain all the time. “You’ll always be my first choice.". It almost haunted you.

Sitting in a quieter spot your gaze stopped at Tsireya’s guitar, you were quick to grab it, occupying your mind with familiar notes and songs. The night breeze bringing a comforting sensation. Unbeknownst to you, Neteyam watched from a distance, admiring.

A heavy blanket fell into your shoulders, protecting you from the cold. Looking up, you’d recognize him from a mile away, by touch, voice, demeanor.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked while caressing your back, trying to warm you up.

“Unfortunately. You too?”

“Yes, do you mind if I stay?”

“Never, come here.” Opening your arms so Neteyam could snuggle into you, the cover did it’s job wrapping the two together. You knees touching his.

“I have something for you.”

“Really?!”

He simply nodded, taking an object from his pocket and heading it to you. It was a bracelet with three small oranges and two flowers, your heart skipped a beat.

“This is so beautiful ‘Teyam, thank you. When did you get it?!”

“A few weeks ago, I thought of you the moment I saw it.”

“Me?”

“You.” Neteyam felt apprehensive, he still feared to make you uncomfortable by confessing, but also knew that he’d probably explode if he didn’t.

Neteyam’s feelings for you made him weak on the knees, coward, afraid. However, it also made him strong, brave, hopeful, better. These feelings, mutual or not, were one of the purest things in him, it should be worth sharing, worth having.

“Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“I need to tell you something.”

His serious tone made you worried. “I’m all ears.”

“I don’t believe I love you just as a friend anymore.” He let out, scanning your face. “If you want me to act platonic and take this back I will, promise, but I can’t keep hiding it. I’m hurt when you’re hurt, happy when you’re happy. You’re the first person I think about when something bad or good happens, and the first I want to share everything with. I am always hoping that you see me the way that I see you, because you’re all I see. I… really care about you.”

You were dumbstruck, mouth hanging open. Even if your suspicions existed, it still seemed unreal to hear this.

“Say something? Please. I’m sorry if-”

“You had no idea, did you?” Holding his face, you made sure to stare at him, both with teary eyes. “I love you too, so much.”

You couldn’t help but smile when Neteyam’s lips found yours, giving you a loving kiss, followed by multiple pecs and hugs, as if he was making up for lost time. His touch was soft, tender, wishing to express everything he couldn’t before. All the unspoken feelings were, finally, known.

a/n: neteyam the definition of daylight (this is a taylor swift reference!). i edited this too many times.

taglist: @y2unagiz @rainbowsocks @il0veheartz @ilovejakesullysdick @coconut-dreamz @afro-hispwriter @n7ytiri @kentospet @pullandhug @mirikusashes @drugs-for-memes @neteyam4life @jjkclub @doulcha @grierpilots @littlexscarletxwitch @arminsgfloll @inluvwithneteyam @lovelyygirl8 @forasgaard @peachyst4r @anm3mi @ghostjoohoney @lagoonabluebabe.

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 6

word count: 604

warning: homophobia

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

December 15, 1987

Dear Will,

I walked into my house after spending the night at your place, and the first thing my dad asked me was, “You and Jane get back together yet?” And I explained to him, once a-motherfucking-gain, that no, Jane and I are not getting back together, and that we mutually agreed that we’re better off as friends. Then he remarked something along the lines of why I’m always at the Byers-Hopper house, if not to see my Sweetie Pie, and I had to keep my composure for long enough to tell him, “I was hanging out with Will, dad.” 

He laughed in a way that was so mean, Will. It was cruel, mocking, and slightly angry. I ran upstairs and had to look at your art until I felt better. But his laugh was still there, in my head. It’s like he knows about me, even when I haven’t explicitly told him. And he never gives up an opportunity to ridicule me, regardless of if I’m rumored to be, or actually , gay.

It got worse over dinner, when my mom asked me about how my time at your house was. She phrased it as “How did last night go at Will’s?” Not Jane’s. That made me so fucking happy for some reason. My mom is so kind without even trying to be. I genuinely have no idea why she and my dad are still married– they’re, like, polar opposites, and not in the good way where opposites attract. But I told her we had a nice time, and she smiled, and told me she was glad before going back to her sweet potato casserole. I’ll bring some the next time we hang out, I know you love it.

Anyway, back to my dad. He snorted, as if spending time with my best friend was the funniest fucking thing to ever happen in the history of the Wheeler family. I wracked my brain to try and figure out what was such a huge joke to him, but he continued on, saying, “I swear, kid, it’s like he’s your little boyfriend or something.” Then I snapped. You won’t be proud of me for this, because I yelled and stuff, but I hope you’ll at least see me as brave after I tell you this.

I turned to my dad with a wild look in my eyes (probably), and said some shit like, “Yeah, me and my boyfriend, Will Byers, had such a great time last night! We stared longingly into each others’ eyes for hours , then we cuddled, then we kissed, and then we got each other off ! It was so hot, Dad. Truly. I wish you could’ve seen –”

But then my dad roared at me to go to my room, which shut me up, thankfully . I don’t know what would have happened if I let my mouth keep running. I most likely would've outed myself. I didn’t, though, so I decided to get out of there before my dad changed his mind. I ran up the stairs and locked my door and now I’m sitting here at my desk, writing this letter that you’ll never read. I know what I said was a lot. I mean, it was pretty vulgar. Plus, it's never actually happened, and it never will happen. So I'm sorry about that.

Bottom line, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to come out to my parents. At least, not to my dad. He wouldn’t let me out of that conversation with my heart still beating.

Here’s to being in the closet for life, I guess.

Love,

Mike

previous letter | next letter

homepage

[ghostlythunderbird]

I just want to say I absolutely love your Omegaverse so much! But I have a question. With König being an Apex Alpha and knowing how they are viewed in the public eye, how is his mate treated? Are they ridiculed or shunned for mating an Apex? Are they considered brave or do people just not care? If they do care, does that mean all Apex Alphas try to keep their relationships a secret?

OOOOOO now this one I absolutely adore!

Ok to start things off there’s always gonna be different views in this dynamic no matter what. But I can say from an Omega perspective it shows that the Reader is one bad ass bitch to mate with a Apex, so that comes with bragging rights respectively. Of course Omega! Reader is gonna always make sure that Apex!König is comfortable with it before feeding into it, they will definitely start talking about how attentive, caring, and sweet König is. It definitely shocks most because ‘Apexes are supposed to be mean’.

As from a Beta and Alpha perspective its more so of a form of shunning for both of you, most of it saying your a stupid naive Omega for thinking you can calm and gentle an Apex of König’s caliber. Another is saying König shouldn’t have a right to even be near you or any omega much less mated. With those comments, our big strong Apex has had to hold you back a few times to keep you from using the skills he’s taught you against any offender. And often times it leads him to carrying you back home draped over his shoulder while you are sending the “I’m watching you” signal at said offender.

Overall though I can say that there is a mutual air or respect that floats around you, but its mostly because people have learned it wasn’t the Apex they had to be scared of. It was his spitfire of an Omega that would always jump in to defend him and his honor at any moment. But while your and König’s relationship is out there, often times its up to the pair if the relationship is hidden or not. It might be a bit much for some so a majority has been known to hide their relationships.

Also because of this I can almost guarantee that you and König start or join in the “Apex Welfare Encounter” organization to help other Apexes and their partners, guiding them and how to handle the ridicule that come from Apex stigmas/stereotypes. Another program they have as well helps single Apexes in learning how to handle their aggressive and dominant tendencies in both public and private. It had started as a support group but now is snowballing as more and more Apexes talk about their experiences or daily lives living with these damaging images that previous apexes showed.

So sorry this took so long to answer, real life is imputing itself as much as possible. Hope it was to your liking!

@l-lend @kelpiesummer @fatedeniedhope @grizzersmamma

[newobsessionweekly]

For the Eddie x trans man prompt:

Eddie running his hand/fingers over readers top surgery scars while cuddling?

Embracing scars

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 masterlist

Eddie Diaz x trans-male!reader

Fandom: 911

Summary: You and Eddie cuddle up while he traces the shape of you top surgery scars.

Fluff

Warnings: Idk, maybe mentions of scars, mentions of transgender ?

A/n: Well, not that familiar with the community, don’t know how a transgender person feels and all, but I tried my best. I support all of you people and I admire every single one of you. I’m sorry if I didn’t make up to your expectations or if I ever made you uncomfortable or disrespected you with anything on this one, didn’t mean that.

Not edited or proofread.

Requested: yes

Words: 983

Requests open for Eddie / Buck!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

You and Eddie have been together for a few months now, and he couldn’t be happier. You had met through mutual friends and hit it off right away. Eddie had quickly fallen for your kind heart, infectious smile, and your shared love of music. He adored everything about you, from your quirky sense of humour to your fierce loyalty to those you loved. Eddie admired your strength and resilience, which were especially evident in the way you had bravely undergone top surgery despite the emotional and physical toll it had taken on you.

But it wasn’t until a few weeks into their relationship that you opened up to Eddie about your scars. A while ago, you underwent a gender transition and had top surgery to lessen your gender dysphoria. With Eddie, you felt secure and cherished even though you've been insecure about them. You looked up at your boyfriend, eyes full of love and gratitude, and he smiled back at you.

He had listened attentively as you told the story, never once judging or making you feel uncomfortable. In fact, Eddie had been nothing but supportive, constantly reminding you how brave you are and how much he admired you.

Eddie is tall and broad, with piercing brown eyes that seem to see straight into your soul. But it was Eddie’s kindness, patience, and empathy— always putting others before himself— that truly made you fall head over heels in love with him. He had a quiet strength about him that you found incredibly comforting, especially when he was feeling vulnerable.

Growing up in a conservative household, Eddie had never had much exposure to the community. But you had opened his eyes to a whole new world of acceptance and love. Eddie had been drawn to you from the start, and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

As the night went on, you watched your favourite TV show and cuddled together. The evening was peaceful, with the sounds of never settled LA coming through the open window. The warm breeze brought the scent of flowers and the sound of distant traffic into the apartment, creating a cosy atmosphere.

Eddie found himself lost in thoughts, looking down at you, nestled against him on the couch. Compared to him, you are a tiny person with delicate features, as he always pointed out, that he found absolutely mesmerising. He loved how your eyes sparkled when you laughed and how your smile could light up a room.

Eddie’s hand absentmindedly stroked your body — that’s something he loves to do whenever you have the chance to be alone. Just the two of you, in your safe place.

His hand found its way over your chest, feeling the rough texture under his fingers. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was perfect for you. This time, he didn’t hesitate to trace his fingers over the scars when he felt you tense up. He took his time to memories the shape of your chest, to embrace you all.

You shifted in his arms, snuggling closer to him. “What are you thinking about?” you asked, looking up at him, in his soft brown eyes.

“Just how much I love you, all of you. Scars and all,” Eddie said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And how proud I am of you for everything you’ve overcome.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushing pink. “I love you too, Eddie.” you smiled at him, “You make me feel so safe and loved.”

Eddie felt a surge of warmth in his chest at your words. He knew that he had his own flaws and shortcomings, but he tried his best every day to make you feel loved and supported. You had brought so much joy and light into his life, and he couldn’t imagine a future without you by his side.

Without saying anything more, he ran his fingers over your chest again and again, feeling the slight ridges and bumps.

Your worry that Eddie might be uncomfortable or turned off by your scars dissipated in the air with every touch. With every kiss placed on top of them.

Eddie leaned in and whispered softly, “You’re so beautiful.” he kissed your lips, “So, so beautiful.” his lips moved down and down until your whole body was covered in kisses.

You have never felt more seen or accepted in your life. When you glanced over at Eddie, you could feel the love radiating from his eyes. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, the warmth and tenderness of the kiss filling you both with joy and contentment.

“I don’t really like people staring at my chest.” you chuckled, your hand caressing his hair.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or something.” he pulled away, scratching the back of his neck.

“No, no. I love when you do that!” you reassured. Eddie smiled, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

You snuggled up against him, feeling safe and loved. Eddie knew that your scars were just a part of who you are, and he wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re perfect just the way you are, and he would protect you with everything he had, and love you with all his heart.

Los Angeles at night is a vibrant and bustling city, with warm lights glowing from the windows of buildings and the sound of people going about their business creating a cozy atmosphere that makes you feel like you're part of something bigger. Despite the busyness, there's a sense of warmth that permeates the air, inviting you to join in on the excitement of the night.

As you stood there, feet tangled, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats, you knew you’ve found your forever in him. And in that moment you knew you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than his arms.

[broomsick]

second attempt at nordic polytheism anon (what a name...) here again! i totally forgot to ask: do you have any recommendations on necklaces/jewelry that one can wear which isn't too obvious but still represents the faith? i'm from germany, so stuff like thor's hammer or runes are either frowned upon or straight up illegal (like the tiwaz rune for example... which is a shame bc i really like tyr, i think he could help me with my job where i have to decide over justice and injustice)

Welcome back! I’m so sorry to hear that you cannot wear Tiwaz in the name of Týr. I have a friend who considers him her primary deity, and who loves him dearly, and she would be devastated if she couldn’t wear his most prominent symbol. Same goes for me, as I’ve worn the same Mjöllnir pendant for nearly eight years, now. It could be possible for you to acquire one such pendant, made using a minimalistic design! I find that wooden ones are generally more discreet, as well.

These are the types of discreet designs I mean! You'll notice that the very last one to the right has a low-key Tiwaz carved onto it. Just in case you're curious, here are the artists to each of these: Hunterbone, KykvendiByK, Pagafanshop.

The same type of logic could also apply to a Tiwaz pendant, though I can't know for sure how far this ban on nordic symbols goes. It's also possible for you to browse for jewelry inspired by norse mythology, but that might not be as well-known, or which hasn't been co-opted by wh1te supremacist groups. In this sense, there are so many fun symbols for you to choose from! And they can be as secular-looking as you need them to be. The cat or the falcon to represent Freyja, the raven or the wolf to represent Óðinn, the goat or a drinking horn to represent Thórr, the weaving spindle or a cloud to represent Frigg, the boar or any symbol of agriculture (sickles, wheat...) to represent Freyr and the elves, symbols of the sea (anchors, sailboats, compasses...) for Njörðr, etc etc.

Just doing a bit of digging around mythological sources could give you loads of ideas! Surprisingly enough, the wolf is a very prominent symbol of Týr! After all, according to myth, Týr was the only Áss who was brave enough to relentlessly care for Fenrir: he would feed him and help him grow when no one else would approach him, for fear of being attacked. In this sense, they shared a bond like no other. One of mutual respect. And in the end, Týr respected Fenrir to the point of keeping his oath to him and losing a limb in the process, for it was only fair for him to do so. With as little historical information as we have on Týr, we do with the cards we've been dealt.

Rings are also quite discreet, a lot more so than necklaces! I have a whole bunch of norse pagan-themed rings that I wear on a daily basis: I have one which depicts the Ægishjálmur, and one that's decorated with the Elder Futhark alphabet, for example. I also wear a serpent ring in honor of the Miðgarðsormr and of Loki, and a ring with a low-key dragon design (a dragon tail and wing wrapping around the finger) to represent the tale of Sigurðr, who is the hero I work with the most, and who is very dear to me.

I hope I could help you out a little, and I wish for you to have a fun and fulfilling journey on the nordic path!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

First off I want to thank you for writing all the requests I've sent you. You're one of my favorite writers and I think you write really well, you should be proud of yourself!

I got another request for you! A Marilyn x fem teacher assistant reader. Marilyn and R are really close but haven't bite the bullet and confessed yet. Marilyn is so excited to get this exotic rare golden leaf/plant/flower thing that is highly coveted in the botany world but a fire breaks out in the conservatory 😭 (you can decide if it's an accident like faulty wiring or if the pyromantic students got to messing around and lost control). Marilyn is alright but crying at watching the fire consume her plant babies, R comes running up terrified that Marilyn got hurt but once she sees Marilyn is physically alright she runs into the flames to save the golden plant, Larissa has to hold screaming Marilyn back from stopping R. When part of the building collapses they assume the worse but R comes barreling out holding the plant. After the hospital releases R, Marilyn is giving R a ride back to Nevermore but instead of Nevermore, she takes R to her off campus apartment where love confessions are made and Marilyn lovingly punishes R for scaring her lol

Yes!!!!! Here it is!!!! I hope you like it!!!! Thank you for all your requests and your kind and nice words!!!! They are like gasoline to me!!! Sorry about the language mistakes. :))))))))

Flames & Roses

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem, Teacher (Assistant)! Reader

Warnings: Smut (light), fluff, maybe hurt & comfort?

Word count: 4,017

Summary: You’re Marilyn’s assistant, and there is a huge tension between you two, maybe a golden rose could be the solution…Maybe…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

“Wow, that's… Disturbing…” You whispered when Marilyn was showing you one of her favorite carnivorous plants. You looked at the plant carefully, feeling a small shudder.

“It's harmless, I promise,” she answered you with a smile.

You were in your first job right out of college. Your parents knew a certain Larissa Weems, principal of the Nevermore Academy, a normal institute for not-so-normal teenagers. You were immediately admitted so that you could learn to teach the virtues and secrets of botany with Marilyn Thornhill.

She wasn't an outcast like you, but she at least she was kind, nice, unlike your professors on campus. Being her assistant wasn't as hard a task as you thought, it was even better.

“I know, but I can't help but think that it's going to bite me at any moment,” you said, without taking your eyes off the plant.

“Boo!” Marilyn yelled, pulling the plant very close to you. You took a step back putting your hands forward in defensive mode. A laugh could be heard in the old conservatory. You blushed.

“Calm down, (Y/N), it was just a joke,” the redhead said with a smile. You frowned and crossed your arms, indignant.

“It's not funny,” you said offended. Although deep down you were laughing too.

It was an afternoon like any other. You spent a lot of time with Marilyn, helping her with plants and learning new things. It was the best moment of the day for you, and from her expression, it was for her too.

From the first moment she caught your attention. She was a beautiful woman, like an angel, innocent and loving. You liked her, but you didn't know if she felt the same way, although some of your co-workers said that there was a great tension between you. You always denied it, but it was completely undeniable.

Still, it seemed neither of you was brave enough to admit your mutual attraction. You had been a coward forever, and you thought she didn't want to look like a predator or something. She was older than you, surely she must have been thinking all the time that she shouldn't take the step. At least that was the excuse you came up with. It could just be that she didn't feel the same way about you, but it was hard to think about it with those smiles, with her looks...

“Well, I laughed a lot,” Marilyn said amused, leaving the plant on top of her desk. “Tomorrow we will study carnivorous plants and their origins and varieties.”

“Oh, it sure is interesting,” you said, still with some resentment about the scare.

“Don't doubt it,” she replied. “But I need your help, lately I hear more snoring than usual in my class.”

You nodded with a smile.

“Oh, okay. Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the world of carnivorous plants...!” You said making a fuss. “Remember that they are not the most suitable for a salad, but they are the best to kill pests in the house! Something like that?”

Marilyn looked at you amused as she leaned against her desk.

“More or less, (Y/N),” she said, shaking her head when she saw you do the stupid things you always did.

“I do my best…” You sighed, leaning next to her. “You know? I thought that this thing about teaching the outcasts was going to be complicated, but the truth is that it is quite simple.”

“At least they are good guys, some hairier than others, but good guys after all,” she said, looking at the plants that were in front of you. “Oh, I almost forgot. There is something I want to show you, (Y/N), come with me.”

Marilyn grabbed your hand. She was so excited that she wanted to show you that she probably didn't even notice that little detail. She stopped after taking two steps and looked at you, her cheeks turning red.

“I, I'm sorry,” she said, embarrassed, letting your hand go.

“Don't worry, Marilyn, I, I liked it…” You said, looking away. She stared at you with raised eyebrows. You didn't think you could say something like that, but you did. Congratulations, you've learned the art of the not-so-indirect hint, (Y/N)

“Oh, okay…” the redhead whispered, taking your hand again, this time more gently. If someone couldn't see the sparks that jumped between you, they were blind.

Marilyn led you to a far corner of the conservatory, where there were some plants arranged haphazardly.

“It arrived this morning. I'm looking forward to opening it,” she said, bending down and picking a cardboard box up.

You looked at it intrigued, you had no clue about what might be there.

Marilyn ran back to her desk, followed closely by you. You wondered why she had brought you there only to come back later. Maybe she was looking forward to going with you hand in hand too. It was a possibility.

“Look, (Y/N), what I'm going to show you is something incredible,” she said, opening the box. You were looking carefully.

When it was open, Marilyn reached in and pulled out something truly unusual. It was a pot that contained a rose, but not just any rose. It was a golden rose.

“Wow, what is it? I had never seen anything like that.”

“It's a golden rose, it's a very unusual species,” Marilyn explained, looking excitedly at the small flower. “Her petals simulate the gold. It is a small wonder. I've been after one of these for years. I guess that's one of the advantages of working at Nevermore.

“It's beautiful,” you sighed, unable to take your eyes off the rose.

“There is no comparison, (Y/N). It is one of the strangest and most beautiful flowers in the world. I’m very excited to have it.”

“I can see why,” you said, gently touching one of its petals. “I don't remember studying it at college.”

“Of course not. Most scientists and biologists do not believe in its existence. They think it's a legend.”

“A legend?” You asked, looking at her. The beauty of that flower was captivating, but seeing Marilyn's eyes upon contemplating that golden rose was an even better feeling.

“They say that a gardener from the Middle Ages cultivated it to make the daughter of a king fall in love with him.”

“Did he get it?”

“Oh, yes, they got married and the gardener became a prince. But it didn't last long. The king realized that it was really just a flower, that it was not real gold. He had him executed.”

“What a story…” You sighed, blinking. “It's not a typical fairy tale.”

“It's just a legend, (Y/N),” the redhead told you, amused. “Surely the origin of this beauty is some mad scientist eager to make money grow from plants.”

“I like the legend better, I think,” you said, laughing too. “I like to hear the crazy things people do for love.”

“Yes, many times it doesn't end well,” she said, looking at you now intently.

“Many times it does,” you said in response.

“Maybe…” Marilyn sighed, brushing her hand against yours again. “In any case, it's a magnificent flower.”

“Yes... It is...” You said, letting her grab your hand. This time it was not like before, this time it was not nervousness, excitement or coincidence.

“Hey, (Y/N). This will sound silly to you, but I was wondering if you… Well if we could…”

“Good afternoon, girls,” Larissa Weems, the principal, said, leaning out the door. You were about to start screaming. Marilyn was about to propose something to you that you would surely accept. It was time, you knew it was time. You had to restrain yourself a lot from insulting your boss.

Marilyn pulled away slightly and let your hand go, looking toward the door.

“Hello, Larissa,” she said smiling. You closed your eyes and sighed. “What brings you here?”

“I was looking for you. I think you work too much, you have to take a break,” Larissa said, with her courtesy smile.

“We like to work,” you said, in a more brusque tone than usual. Marilyn looked at you out of the corner of her eye with a knowing smile.

“Come to the cafeteria, I invite you to a coffee. Plants can be alone for a while, don't you think?”

You both looked at each other and shrugged comically, amused, as you nodded.

On the way to the Nevermore cafeteria, you looked at the redhead. You wanted to know what she was going to ask you.

“Hey, Marilyn… What was that you wanted to tell me?”

The redhead was startled and shook her head. You swore you saw her blush.

“Oh well, it doesn't matter. Maybe in another time,” she told you, leaving you with a heavy heart.

Coffee was awkward for you. You knew that Marilyn was finally about to ask you for something, anything. Maybe it was time to make things clear, but you couldn't do it with Larissa in front of her, laughing and joking under your hard, serious gaze.

You looked out the window, sighing carelessly, tiredly. Everything seemed the same, except for a small cloud of smoke, which seemed to come from the conservatory.

“Oh fuck, look at that,” you said to the redhead, who immediately looked up. Her eyes were pure terror.

“My God, my plants!” She yelled, getting up and running out of the cafeteria. Larissa stared at the smoke in horror, and she stood up too.

“Hey, Marilyn, wait!” You yelled.

Some scared boys entered the cafeteria, addressing you.

“Principal Weems!” one of them said. “There's… There's been a little accident in the conservatory. We were playing and...”

“Smith I have told you not to play near the school!”

You knew those guys, they were pyromancers. It seemed quite reasonable that they were forbidden to play near the conservatory. Naturally they ignored it.

You wanted to get angry and scream, but there was something more important, Marilyn.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Marilyn!”

You ran out of the cafeteria, afraid that something had happened to the redhead. You ran as fast as you could.

Sure enough, the conservatory was on fire. The flames reached up to the sky. Marilyn was there, hands over her mouth, crying in horror.

“Hey, Mari, are you okay?” You asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head, crying uncontrollably. She turned around and hugged you desperately. You hugged her back.

“My plants… My babies… This… This is horrible,” she sobbed into your shoulder. You rubbed her back, sharing her sadness.

“Hey, calm down, nothing's wrong…” You said softly.

“Are you okay?” Larissa asked, running up. “The firefighters have been warned, they won't be long.”

You nodded, hugging the redhead tightly.

“It doesn't matter anymore, everything has been lost…” Marilyn whispered, soaking your clothes with her tears. “My beauties… My poor plants… My God… The golden rose…”

You widened your eyes and pushed Marilyn away. You had seen her face when she saw that flower, you knew it was very important to her. You came up with something crazy. One of those crazy things that are done for love.

You looked at the burning building and didn't hesitate, you ran to the door.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Larissa asked, while you searched for a way to open the door. It was the occasion to use slightly more abrupt methods. With one kick, you managed to break the glass door.

“(Y/N)! Don’t do it! Please come back!” Marilyn yelled, trying to follow you, but she was immediately stopped by Larissa.

“No, Marilyn, it’s dangerous!”

“Please!” She yelled with a completely torn voice. “No, Please!”

You could barely hear her pleas anymore. You had entered the burning building. The smoke was thick and the heat unbearable. You started to cough and held your shirt sleeve in front of your nose. In the midst of so much smoke it was almost impossible for you to locate the flower. You knew where it was, but you just couldn't see it.

A golden glow came to your eyes. There it was, on the desk, surrounded by smoke and flames that were getting dangerously close. With a clumsy step, you managed to catch the pot.

“I got you,” you said triumphantly. You turned to get out of there, but your problems had only just begun. A metallic crack sounded above you. It was the worst that could happen. The metal was softening in the heat and the structure was about to give way, on your head.

Before you could even think about running, part of the roof collapsed. You managed to jump to avoid the glass and metal beams, but you hit your head, leaving you semi unconscious.

It was hard for you to breathe. You were lying on the ground, holding the rose by the hand. You tried to drag yourself across the ground, but to your horror one of your legs got caught in the rubble. That looked very bad. You pulled hard, but it hurt a lot.

“(Y/N)! Please!”

You could hear the redhead's screams outside the building. That gave you strength to think of a solution. It had to be a quick one, the flames began to surround you.

You searched through the rubble.

“Bingo,” you said when you found a metal bar, which you use as a lever to get your leg out of there.

Your leg had had a horrible wound, but it looked like you could walk, at least with the adrenaline pumping.

It was time to escape. The flames cut you off. You looked for another way out, there wasn't one. You looked at that golden flower, as if looking for a solution.

“Well little rose, at least I have to try,” you said, wrapping your clothes around the plant and closing your eyes. Expecting the worst, you went through the flames, finally being able to go outside.

Marilyn was there, crying uncontrollably next to Larissa. The fire sirens were close, you could hear them.

“(Y/N)!” Marilyn yelled the when she saw you. You were unsteady, but you managed a smile as you approached, limping.

“Here is your flower, princess…” You said in a small voice, handing her the pot. She picked it up tearfully. Before you could say anything else, your legs gave out and you fell to the ground. Fortunately Larissa picked you up, breaking your fall.

You woke up uncomfortable, with an excess of light. You weren't in Nevermore, it seemed like you were in the hospital. Your leg was bandaged, it hurt. You didn't know how much time had passed, but you did see who was next to you. Marilyn. She had her head resting on the bed. She was making sounds of being asleep. You wanted to wake her up, but you decided to enjoy a few more minutes of that tender sight.

You ran your hand through her hair, over her face. She suddenly moved and looked at you scared. Her glasses were misplaced. It was quite a comic sight.

“(Y/N), you're awake,” she said to you smiling and placing her glasses and clothes well. You nodded smiling. “Oh my God, I'm glad you're okay…”

“I think I keep all my limbs,” you said joking.

The redhead moved from the chair to the bed, sitting next to you and caressing your forehead. She stared at you for a moment, silent. You did the same.

Suddenly a loud slap fell on your cheek, breaking the calm of that room.

“Hey! Why?” You said rubbing your cheek. Her look was serious and her breath was heavy.

“You are completely crazy, (Y/N). You could have died... You scared the shit out of me. How can you do that?”

“People usually say "thank you,"” you said with a frown, while you continued passing your hand over your cheek.

“Thank you? What would I have done if something had happened to you? Didn't you think it would be dangerous? Why did you risk your life for a flower?” She asked aggressively. Her eyes held no anger, only fear, terror.

“Well, I already told you that I like the crazy things that are done for love,” you said, putting on the face of a good girl.

Marilyn opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't say anything, she just sighed and smiled, moving closer to your lips, kissing you slowly. You deepened the kiss, moving your aching arms to caress her cheeks.

“There were other ways to tell me, (Y/N), you didn't have to risk your life,” she told you, taking your hand.

“I think it was easier for me to risk my life than to make a confession of love…” You said, as if you were on a cloud. “Besides, I think you were going to confess first.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you were going to ask me something in the conservatory.”

“I was going to propose a dinner, (Y/N), not to declare my love for you,” Marilyn said amused. You winked at her.

“Isn't that the same thing?” You said ironically, earning you a soft tap on the shoulder from her.

“Aw… Even my hair hurts…” You complained. She laughed, fluffing up your pillow.

“Don't worry, the doctor has said that you will be able to leave in a couple of days.”

Those two days passed. You were injured in the hospital, but you were with her. She didn't move from your side. Apparently not everything in the conservatory had been lost. Many of the plants had managed to survive the fire. You could see Marilyn's sadness in her eyes. The plants were her life.

Larissa punished the two pyromancers by cleaning up all the mess. Her parents' pocket would suffer, they would have to pay for the damage.

None of it was important. The important thing was that you finally confessed your feelings, you started the relationship you were desperate for. It was painful, but it could be the best days of your life.

“Finally,” you said stretching your whole body as you left the hospital door. Marilyn laughed and kissed your cheek.

“Come on, honey, I'll take you in my car,” she told you, giving you her hand. You got on the little beetle smiling. Those days had been filled with caresses and kisses. You didn't even want to imagine everything that was ahead.

“Hey, Mari, you missed the Nevermore crossing…” You said pointing to the road. Marilyn looked at you briefly, smiling.

“We are not going to Nevermore, (Y/N), we are going to my house,” she told you. You widened your eyes but nodded. “I didn't want to spend all day at school, so I rented a small apartment in Jericho.”

Soon you arrived at her house and got out of the car.

“It's cozy,” you said, looking at that small apartment. I was adorable, I was so Marilyn…

“I don't need more ,” the redhead told you, grabbing your wrist. “Come, I want to show you my room.”

You let yourself be dragged into the small bedroom. On one of the tables was your great friend, the golden flower.

“Well, here you are,” you said amused, approaching the plant.

“I want you to know that I still think you're crazy, (Y/N). No matter how special that rose is, it is not worth putting your life at risk,” she told you, indicating that you sit next to her on the bed.

You obeyed and shrugged your shoulders, not caring.

“Bah, I'm just this way.”

“Well, maybe now you'll stop being…” She whispered, getting close to your ear and biting the lobe. You closed your eyes, beginning to enjoy the kisses that began to run down your neck.

“Oh, are you going to punish me for saving your favorite flower?” You asked suggestively, while the redhead pushed you so that your back rested on the mattress. Marilyn climbed on top of you and nodded, freeing herself from her jacket.

“You have given me scared to death. That can't stay like that, (Y/N)…” She hissed, removing your shirt.

Right after came the messy, passionate kisses. Your bodies were already half-naked. Marilyn kissed you, caressed you, she bit you. She said you deserved a punishment, but there was no better punishment than that one for you.

Your hips moved in unison, touching your heat intensely, causing the panting to begin to fill the walls of the small room. The clothes flew away from your body. Every inch of skin that was uncovered was a new target for your lips. You had been wanting it for so long that you were going crazy.

“You are beautiful, (Y/N), much more beautiful than that stupid rose…” She told you while she pulled your hair. It seemed that she was also losing control, causing you to discover the most dominant side of her, the dark side that was hidden behind that innocent smile.

Her hands were skillful, they knew where and how to touch. They ran through your core making you beg, to finally feel the true punishment she promised you.

“Marilyn…” You gasped. She wouldn't take her eyes from hers from hers from you as she made your hips rise for more contact. “Please…”

She didn't want to torture you. The scars from your burns made her feel sorry for you, inserting her fingers. You moaned smiling, relieved to get that feeling you had been looking for for a long time.

“I love you…” She whispered in your ear, while her rhythm focused on what your hips were asking for, and so your moans.

You nodded, unable to make any sounds than disorderly moans. Your hand reached out, reaching for her chest. You ran your hands over her clavicle, while you tried to distract yourself from the pleasure you were feeling. That was a big mistake.

The rhythm of your hips increased, giving the redhead the signal to increase her speed.

You couldn't hold it, your hips rose again as you screamed at that unique, unrepeatable orgasm. You've never felt like this.

“My crazy girl… My little reckless…” Marilyn whispered to you, taking her fingers out and kissing you again. The kisses were even hungrier. “You are an idiot, (Y/N), just thinking that I could have lost you… I… I go crazy…”

Now it was your turn, your turn to show how much you loved her, how much you wanted to do that. The reason why you risked your life. You didn't care about the flower at all, you cared about her, you cared about her gaze contemplating that rose. You wanted to have that look always on your mind, you didn't want it to go away.

You kissed her body, rebelling, putting yourself on top of her with a subtle movement. You didn't leave any part of her without kissing, no corner of her body without caressing. You arrived between her legs and you didn't think about it. You fell into it. Your tongue played with her clit, while your hands caressed her legs. She moaned, she grabbed your head. You couldn't even think about what you were doing anymore, her moans were the ones that guided you.

You enjoyed her taste, her involuntary movements. What a punishment, you were in heaven. It didn't seem like she wanted to wait, with a sudden grip on your wrist, she brought your hand to where it needed to be.

You were affectionate, you enjoyed the heat and humidity of her body. You moaned just to feel your fingers inside her.

Marilyn was a beast, she moaned, she said bad words, scratched your back. She was amazing, wild.

When it was all over, your legs were intertwined, as were your hands.

“I hope you've learned not to put yourself in danger, (Y/N)…” She whispered to you, very close to your lips.

You gently ran your tongue over them and she laughed.

“Actually… I don't think I've learned anything, Mari,” you said, lying down on the bed, snuggling into her chest.

“No? Do you need another punishment?” She asked, relaxing her breathing.

“I think that now I would be able to die for you…”

[sister-lucifer]

i hate my alters, I keep pleading with them just to go away.

oh my sweet darling.

come here to me, please, let me talk to you.

i have never been in your position, but i do know how it feels to want desperately to be rid of something you cannot change. and it hurts, does it not? i know. it makes you feel helpless, alone, scared, because you can’t fix it, not immediately anyways.

it’s alright to feel that way. whatever you’re feeling; the frustration, the anger, the sadness, the fear; please, don’t feel bad for feeling it just because others have had a different experience.

the unfortunate thing is that there is no immediate solution. i know that hurts. i’m sorry it has to. but there are ways to cope. whether you decide you want your future to be final fusion or functional plurality (is that the word?), one day you will find a way to do what seems impossible now, even if you don’t think so at the moment.

the hard part?

you’ve got to do the scary thing. you’ve got to acknowledge and communicate with them, and i know that is so scary, but you are capable of being so brave my sweetheart. i know you are. and i love you. i don’t know you, but i love you, because i love all that i can. i am of the belief that, on some level, all live has value, and all sentience is worth something simply on the merit of existing. that includes you, whoever you may be.

at the end of the day, the formation of alters is a survival technique. that tells me you’ve been through something hard, or maybe you still are, and you’ve still stuck around this long. do you have any idea how impressive that is? that you can speak to me about this? it’s impressive to me, anyways. i cant say the same for many.

whats even more unfortunate is that i cannot put myself in your shoes. i haven’t experienced this. but you know who might have?

my system followers, friends, and mutuals, if you see this, do me a favor and leave a note for our friend, yes? perhaps you can help more than i.

that being said, my dear anon, i’m not closing myself off to you. i’m here to speak if you wish, i’m only directing you to people who have more knowledge on this subject.

i love you, friend. and you don’t have to say it back, i’m only letting you know.

[kakashis-formal-simp]

Asking her out

(Erza x reader)

It had been three years. For three long years, you have been crushing on Erza. You knew about her past and always felt like she liked Jellal. It’s honestly the only reason you hadn’t asked her out yet. Though recently it’s become apparent Jellal and Ulter might be together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m gonna ask her out today, Juvia, I’m tired of pinning for her and hoping there’s a chance she likes me back”

“I’m cheering for you Y/n, hopefully, you will have better luck than me and my beloved gray” Juvia cries.

“He will come around soon Juvie,” patting her back you sigh, I really hope Erza says yes. You’re staring at her from across the guild hall. She’s absolutely breathtaking. Looking back at Juvia,

“I guess it’s time to bite the bullet,”. Standing up, you make my way over to her.

“Sorry guys, I gotta steal Erza for a bit,” Glancing at team Natsu and back to Erza.

“Is everything alright, Y/n?” She's so cute when she’s confused. I’ve never asked to talk to her alone like this before.

“Would you mind stepping outside the guild hall with me for a minute?”

“Of course,” she replies. The walk outside was short and slightly awkward, but anytime spent with her is a gift.

“What was it you needed Y/n?” Erza questions.

Sighing you look down towards the ground. Looking back up at her bracing yourself, “Erza, I understand if the feelings are not mutual, but I really like you. I would love nothing more than to take you to dinner,” adding quickly, “Of course, if you don’t feel the same no pressure” the nerves consuming your body. Erza’s shocked to say the least. “I…you mean like on a date?” she blushes.

“Yes, a date,” sighing, maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

“I see, I was unaware you felt this way towards me. I would love to go on a date with you,” she smiles. God, she’s so perfect. “Really? You want to go out with me?” beaming you quickly add, “sorry, I’m just surprised.” revoked to a small smile.

“Of course, I’ve… admired you for some time now. I would have asked you out had I known the feelings were mutual,” Erza blushes and looks toward the ground. It’s so cute seeing her blushing and nervous like this. “Curses,” she mumbles. “I am a coward for not asking you out first,”. “You’re not a coward Erza” laughing you add, “You’re extremely brave and everyone in the guild knows that,” you’re smiling so hard it’s starting to hurt. “How does tonight at 6 sound?”

“It sounds wonderful, I look forward to seeing you Y/n”

You both agreed to meet outside a cafe in Magnolia. It has sandwiches but it also has the strawberry cake she loves. Walking towards the door you see Erza walking towards it as well. Smiling at her, “you look absolutely divine, as you always do” you complimented her. Erza looks at you shocked as her face quickly matches her hair. “I…You’re” she stumbles over her words. You watch as she takes a deep breath regaining some composure. “I never knew you were so good with words, Y/n. You also look breathtaking”, she blushes looking you up and down. “With you, the words come naturally, all I do is say the first thing I think” looking at her you chuckle as she blushes even more. Now she’s avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t mean to make you bashful,” you apologize. “No…no, it’s quite alright, Y/n. I’m just not used to this is all. Should we head in?” Erza questions. “Yes, of course, after you,” holding the door open for her, you follow her inside. Despite living in Magnolia for a while now you haven’t been here before. The place was smaller but had a cozy feel to it. Following the waitress to the table, you take a seat across from Erza. “This place is quite adorable isn’t it, Y/n? They have the most amazing strawberry cake,” she adds excitingly. “You’re adorable,” you smile at her. “Ah, thank you,” Erza responds bashfully, looking down at her lap. Admiring her, you watch as the waitress walks up to take your order. Erza orders two slices of cake while you order a sandwich. “So,” Erza looks up at you, light pink dusting her cheeks, “what made you decide to ask me out?” she questions. “Well, I’ve liked you for some time now, and I got tired of wondering if the feelings were mutual,” smiling at her. If only she knew how long you’ve been pinning after her. “I see, I have also liked you for some time. Though I never thought you would feel the same,” Erza studies her hands towards the end. “Really? What made you think I wouldn’t feel the same? I mean you would have to be insane to not like you,” you lean forward to be closer. “While, a lot of people are scared of me, and you’ve never outright said you liked women,” erza smiles at you. “Yeah, I guess I’ve never straight up said I liked men and women, but you would have to be insane not to like women,” Erza laughs at that. You add, “I’m glad I asked you out, and that you said yes,” Erza smiles, “I am glad that you asked too,”. The waitress comes up bringing the food. The rest of the date went well. You and Erza talked about anything and everything. After paying for her food you offer to walk her home.

Part 2 here

Helpppp, I can’t figure out how to make it let me post more, I have to cut the story in half because it was “too long”

[familyvideostevie]

you genuinely make my day every time we interact ive never had a true mutual this is so fun <3

wanted to try requesting bc i’ve never done it before i don’t think ?? and you write the best fluff mwah mwah

could i get an x steve/eddie (you can pick which!!) where the reader is just really homesick? i’m about to head off to college and i’m already feeling all the sadness ab leaving my fam and dogs behind 🥲 would love someone to comfort me right about now

darling bri! thank you for requesting this, i am honored to write for you! this is a really relatable feeling and i know you will be okay, and i hope this fic emphasizes that! so here's eddie for you <3 | 1k, fluff, fem!reader

You've only been at college for a month and it has been fun. So many new experiences at once have kept you busy, but now that you're settled and have some friends and are used to your classes, you find that most nights you feel a pit in your stomach. You're homesick. But you look around in lecture, in the dining hall, and you tell yourself that no one else is feeling this way. It doesn't seem like it, anyway, so you're a bit embarrassed and don't bring it up to anyone. Your life is a new adventure but you miss home.

Your dorm wall is already almost covered with postcards from the kids and your friends and family, but every night you look at them and just want to be somewhere else. Even though you call your parents and write letters every week, the feeling rolls over everything like a dark cloud and you know you need to figure this out so you don't spend the next few years like this.

So, you're standing in front of the dorm phone debating whether or not to call Eddie. It's Wednesday night, so you know he'll be at home planning Hellfire. But you don't want to bother him because part of you feels pathetic, feels juvenile. Part of you doesn't want to admit that this feeling is even real. But Eddie has never made you feel any of those things, never made you feel small or like your emotions were insignificant. So you pick up the phone and dial the number you know by heart.

The line rings and rings and rings and you feel a warm pressure behind your eyes and you think oh god, oh no, it's okay, I'm fine, don't cry don't cry don't cry. But you hear a click and Eddie's voice is in your ear.

"Hello?" He sounds out of breath. The tension melts from your frame and your mouth stretches into a smile automatically.

"Hi, Eddie. It's me."

"It's you!" he cries, so loud that you have to pull the receiver away as you laugh. "Sorry I almost missed you, sweet thing. I was having a cig."

"S'okay."

"You okay? Don't get me wrong, it's a fucking gift to hear your voice, but usually you call on Friday after class." Eddie knows you better than anyone and the question might have felt patronizing from someone else, but you've always loved how he sees you even when you're hundreds of miles away. You close your eyes and feel braver talking to him, brave enough to tell the truth on the first try.

"Everything is fine. I'm just feeling homesick." There's some shuffling like he's moving the receiver from ear to ear as he walks around his trailer. You know he's a pacer on the phone -- he can never sit still. You picture him in your mind: cheeks flushed from sitting outside, hair a mess where he runs his hands through it, shuffling around in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt with holes in the collar. Always looking like something right out of your wildest dreams, always looking like Eddie. God, how you love him.

"Tell me about it," he coos. "If you want to." You curl your fingers into the hem of the sweatshirt you're wearing. It's his, of course, one of the things he gave you when he helped you pack. Your other favorite, one of his rings, is heavy and cool on your thumb.

"Not much to tell," you reply. "Just feel like I'm the only one who misses home. Makes me feel like a little kid and not like a college student."

"I bet you are not the only one," he says right away. "Actually, I know you aren't. Wheeler calls Jonathan all the time and says the same thing. He's told me himself!"

"Really?" Eddie wouldn't lie to you, and it makes you feel a little better to know Nancy Wheeler also misses your kind of fucked up town and all the wonderful people in it.

"Yeah, honest. It's totally normal to miss it. I bet if you asked anyone they'd say they feel it too." You sniffle, but the roiling pit is already turning to the warm fondness he always causes in your chest.

"I mean, I'll be home for Thanksgiving before we know it."

"Exactly!" he cries. "Bet I could convince your mom to let me pick you up. Eight hours in the car, no problem. We'll have a road trip!"

"Don't know if the van will make it that far, baby," you joke. You can almost hear him smiling through the line.

"I'll make Harrington let me borrow his car. GIve him free weed for a year, or something." He's done what you had hoped he'd do and cheered you up, taking your mind off of the self consciousness and making you feel settled, making you feel hopeful that you'll figure it out.

"Listen, sweetheart," he says, voice raspy and quieter and you can almost pretend he's right next to you, breath warm on your cheek. "You're always going to miss home. Sometimes a lot, sometimes a little, but it's going to be here for you when you come back. I'm going to be here for you when you come back."

"I do miss you, too" you tell him. "You're my home as much as Hawkins and my family are." He hums, a pleased, bright sound.

"Wish I could hug you right now, baby. I miss you so much." He sighs. "But I'm gonna be here to hold you and kiss you and see your face light up when you tell me all about college, yeah?"

"I love you, Eddie." You say it like a prayer, like a wish, like a promise.

"Call me anytime you feel like this. Because I love you, too." He makes a sound that must be a yawn. It travels through the phone to you, and you yawn, too. "Now go do your homework or something academic. You're the smart one!"

You laugh and say goodnight, walking back to your room a little lighter, a little more sure. Eddie's reassurance echoes in your ears. You'll be alright, just like he said. And when you go home again he'll be waiting.

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[dilf-din]

I’m sorry I know this is absolutely random and this is really a “mutuals I’m not brave enough to talk to yall but love seeing you in my dash” situation

but I was searching a tag on my blog and I saw a post I reblogged from you in 2014!!!! Like that’s how long we’ve been around each other!! I know we never spoke but like!!!! cool!!! ten years!!!

MY BELOVED MUTUAL NOWWHATTEAM WHO I AM SO FOND OF. WEVE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH TOGETHER.

I can’t believe we’ve never spoken 😭😭 I took a few year hiatus and when I came back I was so happy to see you and a few others from back in the day still posting. It’s like going to a new school but seeing a familiar smile in the hallway

SORRY TO GET EMO ON MAIN!!!!