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#but the song over all is.. i dunno... just not doing it for me
a-s-levynn · 2 months
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Probably unpopular opinion but i'm not exactly head over heels for will and nik's rain cover.. it started out fairly solid but all over fell flat for me ._.
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synthshenanigans · 1 month
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You Sound Like Louis Burdett is a banger song I wish it was real 💔 [looking at you spotify]
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skeleton-less & textless versions ✨ wahoo ✨
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oh yeah the way mass effect made me think of portal which is surely what youtube was doing too in sliding me a portal related video which made me think of like ah yes that little harmonizing thing want you gone credits song does, another banger. then i was like wait speaking of secret losersongs filmed rehearsal videos just the other day was reexperiencing like code monkey's really a banger as well, the way that part of the chorus could have one line end on One Pitch then the next line end a half step up but Doesn't & that pwns actually. then going hang on and they're both jonathan coulton. they're All jonathan coulton (adding in: wow just like will putting still alive on his off the shits jared kleinman a.m. pump up playlist)
#portal / 2 / 2's co-op mode; the rare VideoGames i've Actually Played#the rare puzzle centric games that pwn b/c the Parameters & Goals are always sufficiently clear....#so i did not play mass effect at the time or since. meanwhile i did happen to meet ellen mclain once. wah#doubting that mass effect had any characters singing a song over the credits. Maybe.#but seems plausible indeed the most any individual sings is the optional source material for modern major general / scientist salarian#and that has no Complete Version until here's william lmao. good for him. & those games coming out when he was a little college lad....#wait what the. mass effect the first & portal the first released a month apart in '07??? i guess that tracks lmao but#happy birthday video games....portal 2 in '11; me3 in '12. weird that i was Also in college#''great day to not be in high school'' post like hell yeah it is & i evaded high school entirely lmfao#which was a major motivation in going to college. i can just cut out [school years] that's what i'm talking about. & it did.#hang in there everyone in high school. or middle school god forbid. or college even though it's Also indeed better. lord#just another thing like well try not to die i suppose while put through endless [pass test]#anyways then this full version is created & will sings it!!! & kills it!!! cosigned all the mass effecties....#suppose it's plausible that will ''in college doing musical theatre times'' would look up the composer of credits bops & go from there#let me put together a cabaret solo show & oh gee i dunno....
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ereborne · 19 days
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Song of the Day: May 29
“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth & Dove Cameron for Disney's Descendants OS
#song of the day#time is fake! sometimes I'm awake and it's logical to assume that sometimes I'm asleep! and the days must pass but do I ever know?? nope#fuck I spent all day thinking today was the last day of the month and then it turns out it's not even Thursday#sang 'Evil Like Me' with Duncan at the dinner table while I ate the cabbage and I made this cabbage after the work not-a-bbq so#almost definitely that was today!#I fell asleep standing up in the shower again but the drain has been draining very slowly so when I woke up there was water above my ankles#if I flood our house with the water from my shower while I am actively standing in it and I don't notice because it's the only time I sleep#I'm going to shrink myself down and move in with the mice colonizing our neighbor's boat trailer#the mice will never know my shame. Duncan will put cheese sandwiches out in the alley for us and it will be more than I deserve#this is a really good song. very fun lyrical nonsense and also very fun musically to sing. love the idea of Kristin Chenoweth Maleficent#'I have tried my whole life long / to do the worst I can / clawed my way to victory / built my master plan#now the time has come my dear / for you to take your place / promise me you'll try to be / an absolute disgrace'#Nick really doesn't like this song for some unspecified reason--we've asked but he just gets kind of mad? like it should be obvious?#I think maybe he thinks they're making fun of people who sing about like. doing crimes? being bad???????????????#like honestly what could be more punk she's literally Maleficent but go off I guess#I dunno but if I were going to be mad about a Descendants song that I occasionally roam the house over-selling#it wouldn't be a Broadway-star-supported certified banger like 'Evil Like Me'#it'd be goofyass 'Rotten to the Core' where I'm playing four parts simultaneously and pitching my voice up and down like a rollercoaster#love that fucking song it's so dumb and it's so much fun and I get to stomp on the chorus bits
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seventh-district · 10 months
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in other news i cannot stop fucking listening to Brokenheartsville by Joe Nichols and i’m starting to annoy myself with it but. i cannot stop. it’s too good
#Seven.txt#music stuff#it’s this perfect mix of being applicable to my current taste while also being a very nostalgic song for me#‘cause i liked it when i was a kid. and i recently heard it on my father’s radio outside. and man it’s been y e a r s since i’ve heard it#why is it so addictive to me#like. you cannot make a song that opens with the lyrics-#‘He wore that cowboy hat to cover up his horns. *insert seductive guitar sounds here* Sweet-talkin’ forked tongue had a temptin’ charm.’#and expect my southern and devil-loving ass to not go fucking feral over it#even when i’m not listening to it it’s playing in my head. was analyzing the lyrics the whole time i was in the shower earlier#but what’s funny is i think i’ve listened to it so many times that i’ve developed a whole new story than the one actually being told#but like. with how much he’s supposedly upset that this guy stole his girl or whatever#which i know he’s probably just comparing some dude to the devil and not actually saying that it was the Devil Himself#but it’s so much better if u picture it as actually being the devil that’s picking up this dude’s girlfriend in a bar#but anyways given how that’s supposed to be the point. he spends so much time describing the devil and ain’t got shit to say abt his girl#like okay buddy. we know you liked his cowboy hat. we know you liked his sweet-talkin’ tongue.#we’ve heard all about the make and model of his Long and Chrome Very Red Hot Sexy Devil Car#do u not have anything to say abt ur girlfriend. are u not gonna wax poetic abt her? no? too busy admiring the Devil and his Hot Car?? yeah#we’re gathering that#like.. brother… i dunno how to tell u this but i think u might wanna fuck him a lil bit#‘Love’s gone to hell and so have I.’ yeah!! i’m gathering that!! good for u dude!! get it!!#so now the whole time i’m listening to it i’m just like. this is a love song abt the devil!#which it isn’t. but it could be!! and so that’s what i’m choosing to see it as. bc i’d feel the same way tbh#i much prefer the idea of him being pissed that he missed his chance to run away w/ the devil than being pissy over his girlfriend leaving#it’s just so much more appealing to me im sorry#also. side note. when i was a kid i thought the line was ‘that angel up in the air’ and not ‘that angel who did me in’#and i don’t know how i misheard it so badly but now i sing it wrong every fuckign time cause it’s still cemented in my head from childhood#how young was i. hold on.#oh yeah it came out in 2002. so yeah i was quite young when i heard it a lot so i think im forgiven for mishearing it so badly lmao
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chiritori · 3 days
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the bad dye job did not make me stop liking my crush 👎 i’m so cooked
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!
Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe
Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈
Have a great day!!!
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Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦
Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.
It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’
Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’
‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.
So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.
Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.
After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’
So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.
‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.
He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.
You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’
‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.
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bratzforchris · 3 months
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Ways to Say "I Love You", C. Sturniolo
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Summary: Five times you knew Chris better than himself, and the one time you didn't<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/hangover (y'all i know he's techinally not of legal drinking age in the USA. this is fiction)
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: I genuinely need this man in my life so bad actually. Anyways, enjoy some tooth rotting fluff. XOXO<3
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1
“Bruh,” Chris groaned, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “I feel like shit and I don’t even know why.”
You looked up from your phone, eyeing your boyfriend up and down. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he whined, rolling off the couch dramatically. “My head hurts and I’m tired.”
You sat up from the gray couch, standing over Chris, who was sprawled on the floor, pouting and whining. You definitely felt bad for him, but at the same time, you knew Chris tended to over dramatize the smallest, most random things. “Do you have a fever?” 
Chris shook his head, rolling from his back to his stomach, but not getting off the floor. “I don’t feel sick, but I just feel like horse shit and I don’t know why.”
You observed him for a moment, before an idea dawned on you. Having ADHD, Chris tended to forget to eat and drink, so hyperfixated on something or too many thoughts in his head blocking the reminders to fuel his body. He was medicated for it, which both helped and hurt. Sometimes, he would be able to focus enough to remember his meals, but other times, the meds would dissipate his hunger cues. “When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?”
“Hmmm,” Chris’s blue eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged. “Dunno. Which is weird because I’ve usually had like, six Pepsis by now, but we’re out and Matt didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday, so…I don’t know.”
You shook your head with a soft chuckle, helping your boyfriend up off the floor. “I think that might be the problem, sweetheart. Is there something you want to eat?”
“Do we have chicken nuggets?” Chris asked you, picking up one of the stim toys he had left on the floor last night as he followed you into the kitchen. “That reminds me, isn’t it weird that chickens can’t fly? Like…are they even real birds?” he asked you. 
“I dunno, hun. Google it.” You told him gently, pulling the bag of chicken nuggets out of the freezer.” 
“Do you think chickens are sad that they can’t fly? Like do they look at cardinals and go ‘Damn, why can he fly but not me’?” he hummed, flicking at the toy. 
Chris was wrapped up in his own little world as you made his lunch. He didn’t even get the chance to Google his chicken question before he was distracted by a Spotify notification, which led to him loudly singing a Lil Skies song, dancing around the kitchen. As much as you hated how difficult ADHD could be for him, Chris had one of the best personalities you had ever met; he was bubbly and outgoing, always the life of the party and always willing to cheer you up. You quickly plated his nuggets, along with some other random foods that you knew he would love, before sliding the plate across the island too. 
“See if that makes you feel better.” You explained with a soft smile. 
You watched as Chris downed the food, along with a Gatorade you had given him, only to see a smile dawn on his face. 
“I feel better now,” Chris mumbled shyly after a while. “Thank you. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. You literally always know me better than myself, it’s kinda weird.”
“Why is it weird?” You asked with a snort. 
“Cause it’s like you’re magical or something. Which it would be really cool if you were.”
You smiled, kissing Chris’s soft brown hair. “I love you too, hun.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
2
Tour life was difficult. No one would deny that. As much as the triplets were absolutely loving the Versus tour and all the antics they were getting to do, as well as meeting fans, they had to admit that it was exhausting. Not only were they running on an extremely tight schedule, it was wearing on Chris the most, simply because he was getting next to no alone time with you. It wasn’t that he simply wanted the alone time for sexual reasons, rather, you were the only person that could calm his mind, letting him just be. 
“Baby,” You hummed, softly stroking the brunette’s face. It was still dark out, just past six am, but you had a surprise for him, and you knew Chris would later complain about his sleeping in if he found the missed opportunity. “Wake up, honey.”
Chris wriggled beneath the blankets, sleepily blinking his blue eyes. He was freezing and it was dark out; way too early to be awake. “Too early.” he groaned in his morning voice, rolling over to face the wall with the blanket bunched around his shoulders. 
“I have a surprise for you.” You said, a bit more excitement in your voice as you shook him harder. 
The word ‘surprise’ immediately woke the boy up as he rolled to face you. You were already dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of leggings, eager to get on with your plan. You were practically bouncing up and down like an excited little kid, hoping Chris would love what you had come up with as much as you did. 
“Why the fuck are you awake? It’s dark out,” he moaned. “Come cuddle me instead.”
You snorted at your boyfriend’s dramatics, quietly pulling back his blanket so as not to disturb Matt and Nick. “Get dressed, you big goof. We’re leaving in ten.”
As much as he wanted to argue and go back to sleep, Chris couldn’t deny that he wanted to understand what had caused the giddiness in your aura. He quickly pulled on his favorite hoodie and sweatpants, cramming his messy hair under a snapback as he followed you down the bus steps and out onto the quiet, dark sidewalk. He didn't know where the bus had stopped during the night. Philly maybe? But he didn’t get time to think about that as you simply nodded to one of the members of the triplets security and then took his hand, dragging him down the sidewalk. 
“Where are we going? I miss my blanket.” Chris pouted. 
“Me too,” You nodded, trying your hardest not to disclose the surprise. “But I do have something that’ll make you feel better.”
Chris didn’t know where you were going at this point, but he followed you anyway. He would’ve followed in any life, had someone asked him the question. You two continued to walk for a few more blocks until you stopped in front of a brightly lit diner, its neon signs illuminating the darkness of the street. 
“Pancakes?” Your boyfriend asked, perking up as the smell of bacon drifted from the restaurant. “Goddamn, I knew I made the right choice dating you.”
“I am pretty amazing,” You giggled, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Let’s eat.”
You stepped into the diner together, immediately being sat at a booth and having your order taken. You and Chris both ordered an immense amount of breakfast food, quite tired of the protein shakes and cereal that came with bus life. 
“How did you, um, find this place?” Chris asked bashfully, stirring his straw around his Pepsi. 
You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee. “I was just looking for things for us to do alone and it came up,” You hummed. “I love Matt and Nick, I really do, but I also like to have one-on-one time with you, and I could kind of tell you needed some, too.”
“How do you always manage to know exactly what I need when I need it?” he asked with a chuckle, brushing his hand over your knuckles. 
You smiled, a blush dotting your cheeks as your waitress came over with a tray full of all the food you had ordered. “I just do.”
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3
“Baby,” Chris whined, sprawling out across your shared queen sized bed. “Don’t leave me. I don’t need food, nor do I want it.”
“But you do.” You said pointedly, looking him up and down as you slipped on your Uggs. 
“Nuh uh,” he fought back, smashing his face against a pillow. “You’re making me feel sick by not laying with me.”
“I’m not making you feel sick. Your choices are making you feel sick. No one told you to drink as much as you did.” You chastised gently, crossing the room to kiss his forehead. 
You and Chris, as well as his brothers, had gone out last night with a large group of friends, to include Johnnie and Jake, Tara, Larray, and Sam and Colby. Things had gotten a little…out of hand, leaving you with a very hungover Chris, who was making miserable noises as he clutched his stomach. 
“You’re not even laying with me,” Your boyfriend pouted. “My head and tummy hurt and I wanna be cuddled and you’re being mean.”
“You’re so grumpy when you’re hungover,” You snorted, kissing his forehead again. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
Chris whimpered again as you propped him up with several pillows, tucking him in and making sure he had water and a bucket nearby. You had opted to get him IHOP, figuring a good amount of carbs would ease the symptoms he was currently experiencing as a consequence of overindulging in alcohol. The time between you leaving the triplets house, picking up food, and returning home was less than forty five minutes total, but it felt like an eternity to your hungover boyfriend who simply wanted cuddles and for his headache and nausea to go away. 
You entered the bedroom, takeout bag in hand. “I’m back. Nothing to cure a hangover like a big, greasy breakfast,” You smiled, settling onto the bed and pulling out plastic containers of food. “Once you eat, you can take some ibuprofen for your headache.”
“I’m not hungry.” Chris whispered softly, feeling too unsettled to eat. 
“You know your tummy will feel better once you eat.” You cooed, stroking his stomach over the comforter. 
“Nuh uh.” he groaned, snuggling further into his pillow and blanket.  
“It will and you know it. You know you can’t drink that much, hun. I dunno what you expected to happen.” You explained softly, pushing some hair out of his face gently. 
As much as he wanted to continue to whine and be difficult, Chris had to admit you were right. A good breakfast and some sleep sounded really, really good right about now. He softly sat up, taking a sip of the Gatorade you had left on his bedside table last night. “Mkay…I’ll try to eat, I guess.”
You didn’t say much as you two began to eat your breakfast. You knew Chris probably had a raging hangover headache right about now, and you didn’t want to make it any worse. Once your boyfriend had had enough to eat and taken the pain relievers, he curled up into your side, placing your hand on his stomach. 
“...you were right,” he admitted quietly, always hating to be wrong. “Now I need belly rubs and sleep.” 
“So demanding,” You fake huffed, kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, hun. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
4
Chris Sturniolo was not the type to let anyone know he was upset. Sure, he would jokingly whine and complain about things when he felt like being irritating to his brothers, but he would never actually let anyone see when his feelings were hurt. You knew this about him, and after a little over a year together, you knew the signs that he was feeling this way as well.
The four of you were currently sitting in Matt’s car in a random parking lot, filming a car video. You opted to sit in the back and mostly listen with an amused look. After all, this was the triplets video, not yours. They hadn’t really planned a topic for today either, which ever bubbly Chris took to his advantage. 
“I need to pee,” he stated to no one in particular. “I got a new water bottle and so now I’ve been motivated to stay hydrated so I need to pee.”
“Why did you say water bottle like that?” Matt snorted. 
The boys continued back and forth with their bickering for a while, mostly making fun of the way Chris had said the word. You simply sat and laughed, enjoying all the weird conversations that came up, that is until Nick harshly interrupted Chris. 
“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. “Like genuinely, do you ever shut your mouth?”
“I do sometimes.” Chris protested. 
“Nuh uh,” Matt interjected. “You couldn’t go five minutes without talking. I bet on it. You’re one of those people on the list Nick was talking about. The one who could benefit from being quiet.”
“Fine. Time starts now.” Chris ‘locked’ his lips and pretended to throw away the key. 
You knew he was just going along with the video, but you could tell by the slump of your boyfriend’s shoulders and the way he had his forehead resting against the cool window that the comments had hurt him more than he let on. Nick and Matt continued to talk for a few minutes, before landing on a topic that immediately sparked Chris’s mind. He quickly decided to speak up, forgetting about their ‘challenge’. 
“You can’t do it,” Matt laughed, a triumphant look on his face. “Chris can’t stop yapping…wait, that should be the title of this video.”
Nick laughed and fist bumped his middle triplet, but you found the joke far from funny. Chris had slowly curled into himself throughout the duration of the video, speaking less and less. He was still appearing to be smiling and having a good time, but his overall demeanor had shifted, and you could tell his brothers’ teasing was getting to him. 
“We should get home. It’s getting late…” You mumbled softly once the car had quieted down. 
Chris turned around in his seat, giving you a thankful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Matt nodded at your statement, turning the key in the ignition and beginning the short drive back to your shared LA home. Everyone was quiet, which was a rare occurrence in this car. You would’ve thought that Matt and Nick would’ve noticed Chris’s unusual silence, but somehow they didn’t. Your boyfriend lingered to get out as his brothers clomped inside the house, laughing about a random joke. 
“You okay, hun?” You asked, climbing from the backseat to the driver’s seat, resting your hand on his arm. 
“‘M fine.” Chris mumbled, leaning his head  against the window. 
“You don’t act very fine.” You whispered gently, running your fingers through the soft, brown curls at the nape of his neck. 
“Do you think I talk too much?” Chris whispered quietly, turning towards you. 
Under the bright light of the garage, you could see unshed tears welling in his lash line, threatening to spill. That’s how you knew Chris was upset. He almost never cried, unless he was really and truly upset. 
“Honey,” You said sadly, running your thumb across his cheek. “Of course not, bubba. I love listening to you talk.”
“Well Matt and Nick sure don’t.” he huffed grumpily, but a sniffle made its way out.
“Yeah…I was going to talk to them about that, actually. They were kinda being dickheads to you tonight.” You whispered, always hating conflict between the triplets. 
“They were right,” Chris groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t shut my fucking mouth and everyone thinks it’s annoying!”
“Sweetheart,” You cooed, pulling him into a hug across the console. “I don’t, and I say that with every promise in me. I love listening to you talk, Chris. Your voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and I learn so much from you every day.”
“Really?” he sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek.
“Really, hun,” You smiled, softly brushing it away. “I love you.”
Chris smiled, giving you a soft peck on the lips. “You always just know, don’t you? You always know when I’m sick or tired or when something’s wrong. God, I love you.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
5
You had always loved music, ever since you were little. Something about how a simple arrangement of notes could make a person feel so many emotions captivated you. It was like a language that you didn't have to learn to understand. By the time you were eleven, you’d been playing guitar and ukulele, and that later expanded to piano and bass. Music was absolutely your therapy, and you took every opportunity you had to practice your craft. 
You were sitting on the floor of your and Chris’s shared bedroom, strumming softly on your acoustic guitar. For once, the house was quiet because the boys were out filming a video, so you took the time to practice one of the new songs you had been working on lately. Being a music major allowed you very little time for your separate projects, so you would take whatever chance you could get. 
The silence didn’t last long, though. Just as you were playing an Em chord, Chris burst into the room, flopping on the bed. “Hey mamas, how was your day?”
You playfully rolled your eyes, but continued to strum your guitar. “It was wonderful…until I was so rudely interrupted.”
“You know you love me,” Chris teased, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin in his hands. “Play me a song.”
“God, you are so demanding,” You chuckled. “What’s next? An autograph?”
“Mhm. On my boobs.” Your boyfriend smiled.
You shook your head with a laugh, throwing a guitar pick at him. “You’re insane.”
You didn’t waste any more in Chris’s antics, though. You fulfilled your boyfriend’s request, quietly beginning to play Falling like the Stars and singing along. Chris said nothing more, cherishing the sound of your voice. He loved hearing you sing and play guitar. It soothed him, allowing him to see the passionate parts of you that only came out in your music. He wished that he could do the things that you did, but he had just never taken the time to learn an instrument. 
You looked up at your boyfriend on the bed after you finished the song, smiling softly. You watched Chris for a moment, observing his body language and the way he was looking at you. “Do you…want to learn?” You asked him quietly, a blush dotting your cheeks.
“You’d teach me?” Chris’s cheeks and ears grew pink as he looked at you shyly. 
“I’d love to.” You nodded with a smile. 
Your boyfriend clambered off the bed, sitting down next to you on the rug. You softly began to explain the different parts of an acoustic guitar and how to hold it, before moving onto chords and strumming. Chris had always been a fast learner when he put effort in, and right now was no different. Within the hour, he was already playing slow, soft songs. The chords were still vibrating and it took him quite a while to change them, but it was a song nonetheless. 
“I’m not as good at it as you are.” he pouted after a moment, setting your guitar aside gently. 
“Well I have been playing for ten years, bub.” You chuckled gently, kissing his face. 
Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and kissing you back deeply. He loved you with all his heart, and you taking the time out of your day to share your passions with him only made him love you more. As the kiss grew heavier, Chris fell back onto the floor, still holding you as he giggled. 
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar, you know that?” he asked, pecking your forehead. 
“I could tell.” You smiled. 
“You always can.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
+1
“It’s such a nice day out today.” You hummed, soaking in the sun as you laid on your towel. 
Chris fidgeted beside you anxiously, but made an acknowledgement towards you statement so as to ‘throw you off his scent’. He had been planning this surprise for months now and he was currently using every muscle in his body to keep his mouth shut so as not to spoil it.
You two were basking in the sun on the beach in Santa Barbara, towels laid out. You had noticed Chris had been unusually quiet all day, but didn’t really think much of it. The beach usually kept him in his own little world, too distracted by the roar of the ocean and the sand between his feet to notice anyone else. You both had always loved the beach, and moving to the LA area after living in Boston your whole life had been a welcomed change. You practically went to the beach every weekend, but today Chris had led you to a new spot he had found. It was rather secluded, but you loved it all the same. It made things more intimate between the two of you. 
“You’re quiet today,” You said after a while, rolling over and propping yourself up on your shoulder. You looked Chris over from head-to-toe, admiring the tiny features about him like the way his curls had grown more pronounced with the salt air and the birthmark on his back. “Beach getting you relaxed?”
“I, uh, yeah. You could say that,” Your boyfriend tried to smile sheepishly, looking you over. Your lavender bikini hugged you just right, making him even more nervous. If he fucked this up while you looked so gorgeous, he would never forgive himself. “Wanna take a walk?”
You smiled, sitting up quickly and beginning to gather your towel. “Sure!”
“No!” Chris said a bit too hastily. “I mean, you don’t need to bring your towel…I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You can’t just leave your stuff on the beach, Chris.” You giggled. 
“It’s not like anyone’s gonna steal it. Just–trust me, please?” he asked, giving you those blue puppy eyes you could never resist. 
“I guess so,” you fake huffed, taking his hand in your own. “C’mon, let’s walk before the sun sets on us, silly.”
Chris smiled, taking your hand in his own and starting the trek down the beach. The ocean was calling him as you two strolled westward towards the sunset, but that would have to wait. At least until he had finished his plan. The silence between you was comfortable like always, but this time it thrummed with passionate energy. Chris was pretty sure you had no idea what he was  planning, but then again, you knew him like the back of your hand.
“This beach is so quiet. It’s nice when it’s just us,” You smiled. “How did you find this place?”
“Oh, y’know, doing what I do best. Poking around.” Your boyfriend laughed nervously as you came to a beautiful expanse of rock along the beach. 
You immediately ran towards the beauty, smiling up at the wonder of nature. “This is gorgeous.”
Chris took the opportunity of you having your back turned to feel in the pocket of his swim trunks for the tiny box that he had been hiding from you for over a month now. He would admit that he had definitely had a bit of a struggle keeping the secret from you, but it was worth it to see you now, on this gorgeous beach, looking even more beautiful than the view around you. The brunette turned his head to where Nick was hiding out of sight, holding his camera. As much as he wanted the two of you to be alone for this, he wanted the pictures infinitely more. He couldn’t wait to tell his kids about what would be the best day of his life one day, that is, if you said yes. 
He took a deep breath, pulling the box out of his pocket and then tapping you on the shoulder. “I have a question for you, ma.”
By the time you had turned around, Chris was on one knew, holding a tiny, velvet box that held a gorgeous, heart-shaped, diamond ring. “Oh my god…” You whispered, hand flying to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.
“You are my best friend, baby. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you that day in ninth grade algebra class. Finding out you felt the same way about me was probably the best day of my life. You always listen to every crazy, stupid, and dumb idea I have and I love you for it. You know me better than I know myself. I love loving you; you are my first, last, and only love. Will you marry me, Y/N?”
“Oh my god, yes!” You squealed, throwing yourself into his arms as Chris slid the ring onto your finger.
Chris sniffled as he spun you around, hugging you tightly and kissing you. “This is why I’ve been acting weird today,” he chuckled and blushed. “I was worried you’d find out. You know literally everything.”
“Not everything,” You smiled, showing him the diamond. “You kept the secret so well. Who all knows?”
“Well,” Chris admitted shyly as Nick stepped out from his hiding spot. “Nick knows, obviously, because I needed his help capturing the moment. Matt knows too. Other than that, no one else.”
“You’re amazing, Chris,” You whispered, kissing him again. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was fifteen years old, you know that?”
“I love you so much, ma. Always have and always will.” 
As Nick continued to snap photos of the two of you in front of the sunset on the beach, you couldn’t help but to feel your heart swell. You hadn’t known what was going on with Chris this time, but for once, you didn’t even mind. 
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence
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dumplingsjinson · 8 months
Text
List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)
“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.” 
“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.” 
“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”
“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”
“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”
“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 
“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 
“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.” 
“Don’t give me that look.”
“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.” 
“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.” 
“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”
“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?” 
“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”
“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”
“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.” 
“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.” 
“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.” 
“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!” 
“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”
“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”
“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.” 
“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”
“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”
“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.” 
“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.” 
“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”
“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.” 
“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.” 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”
“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”
“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”
“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.” 
“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.” 
“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”
“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.” 
“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”
“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”
“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”
“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”
“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.” 
“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”
“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”
“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”
“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”
“I would not be who I am today if not for you.” 
(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)
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hawkinsbnbg · 1 month
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Four years after everything ended, Steve and Eddie ran into each other by chance.
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In 1990, when Steve stumbled upon Eddie in a coffee shop in Chicago of all places, he didn't expect to end up on his back that night with the other man pounding him into the mattress.
At some point, he was too cock-drunk to care about his dignity so he kept begging Eddie to come inside him.
"What if I knock you up, babygirl?" Eddie nipped at his chin teasingly.
In response, Steve only clenched around the thick cock tighter, earning a guttural groan from the other man.
He bit his lip and smiled sweetly, "Guess you're gonna be a daddy 'cause m'not on birth control right now."
Eddie just cursed under his breath and pulled out to take off the condom. When he slid into Steve again, they both let out a strangled moan.
In the end, Steve had been railed into oblivion with a stomach full of hot cum.
A week later, Eddie sought him out again, wanting to continue their breeding process.
"It's for science," Eddie murmured as he bottomed out inside Steve.
"Yeah," Steve snorted, breathless and a little bit cross-eyed because of how big the other man was. "How noble of you."
"Thank you, sweetheart," Eddie grinned, eyes crinkled warmly. “Think it’s gonna catch this time?”
“Dunno,” Steve wrapped his legs around the resilient waist as the other man started moving, grazing his sweet spots effortlessly. “But we should keep trying until we succeed.”
“You’re right,” Eddie leaned down and kissed him soundly. “Fuck, you’re always right, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, uh–” Steve mewled and rolled his eyes back when Eddie nailed his prostate. “I– I tried my best.”
“My good girl,” Eddie kissed him again but it was messy and sloppy. “So smart, so pretty. Bet you’re already thinking about our children’s education, hm?”
“Y– Yeah,” Steve nodded blindly, jaw hanging open so Eddie’s tongue could fuck his mouth.
At this point, he didn't know what he was even talking about anymore. He just babbled nonsense and drooled at the mindless pleasure that coursed through him incessantly.
Above him, Eddie kept going on and on about how they were going to make a happy family, how he was going to be a great mom, how Eddie was going to be the kind of dad who would spoil their children rotten.
And yeah, Steve found himself very into the idea. Not only the hypothetical pregnancy part but also the part where he and Eddie built a home together.
“Be mine, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered between the kisses, desperate and pleading. “Gonna treat you right, gonna be a good husband for you, gonna make you breakfast, gonna help you pick the lawn, gonna sing ABBA songs with you, gonna do the dishes for you, gonna give you my everything, gonna–”
“Shut up, I’ll be yours,” Steve clung to the other man and sobbed. “All yours, Eddie. All yours.”
It was a long time coming, an overdue confession that neither of them had been brave enough to tell each other.
But now, now when their family and friends and the fucking world were finally safe, they had nothing to fear anymore.
They were as free and in love as they could ever be.
And when Eddie’s lips met his own in a tender kiss, it felt like coming home.
A quick stroke on his neglected cock was enough to tip Steve over, prompting a high-pitched moan from him and sending sparks flying in his blurry vision.
Eddie followed after him immediately, burying inside him to the hilt and filling him up with a deep groan.
After a few seconds, Eddie pulled out carefully and drew him in a lazy kiss before collapsing beside him.
For a moment, they just lied there to recollect their wits.
“You meant it?” Steve asked quietly once they both calmed down, afraid that it was just sex-addled talk.
“Everything,” Eddie propped up on his elbow to look at him seriously. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you, baby.”
“Me too,” Steve smiled softly. “Been waiting for you, Eds.”
“I’m honored, sweetheart,” Eddie gave him a warm smiled.
Then they moved away from the wet spot to cuddle.
Later, they would have to get up to take a thorough shower, and maybe order something to eat if the mood struck.
But for now, Steve was content to doze off in his boyfriend’s loving arms.
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strawnarrries · 8 months
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We Fight, We Make Up
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Summary: Harry gets turned on when you yell at him.
Requested: Nope
POV: 2nd
Word count: 3.4k
Warning(s): Unprotected sex, slight degradation, slight spanking
The argument happened before the night even started. You didn't even wanna go. You wanted to stay in the hotel with your husband. Alone. Without having to share him with anyone else. Recently, you have been missing him. Yes, you see him every day and fall asleep with him every night; but you felt like you had to share him with the entire world. When he wasn't on stage in front of his thousands of fans, he was either at the gym or working with his team, writing new songs, and talking about new plans.
Tonight was one of his rare nights off and of course, he and his team wanted to go out. He wanted you to go with him and you did, but you were grumpy from the moment he brought it up to the moment you're at with him now.
You were arguing while you got ready. Harry didn't understand where you were coming from. You were on tour with him. You were with him every day, went everywhere that he went, and got to sleep next to him every night. He thought you were being a bit needy and selfish. He didn't say that to you of course, but he definitely voiced that he thought you were being irrational.
Once you had met everyone in the hotel lobby, you both put on your brave faces, not wanting to draw any attention to your problems. You tried to forget about your current struggles and have fun while you could. Neither of you drank that much. You just were not in the mood and Harry had a show the next day. It was only occasional that he would drink while on tour, but never when he had a show the next day.
Once the night was over, the argument continued.
"Y/N, baby, I dunno what you want me to do. We're on tour, this is my work. I can't spend every second with you."
"Oh my god, Harry. You know I'm not asking you to spend every second with me. I just want some alone time with you. I told you I feel like I have to share you with everyone and never get any time just you and me."
"But we do get alone time. We got a whole room to ourselves. I give you a cuddle while we fall asleep every night. Why is that not enough?"
"It's not about being enough. It's about me feeling like you're not prioritizing me or wanting to spend any time with me."
"This is the first tour that you've been able to come with me for every show. This is what it's like. I don't get alone time. This is my job. I can't just drop it all to spend time with you."
You were starting to get angry, "You don't work every hour of the day! Tonight - I told you beforehand that I didn't wanna go and I wanted to stay here with you but you wanted to go out instead."
"Well, yeah because I've got a night off and wanted to have fun with everyone."
"Exactly! Everyone. You didn't wanna spend time with me. You spend time with them every fucking day and the one day you have off you choose to be with them."
"Y/N, you-" he started before you cut him off, your voice raising in frustration, "Harry, you're my fucking husband! I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with just me!"
All of a sudden, a cheeky, slightly evil smirk arose on his lips and his eyes scanned your body up and down. It was very rare that you got angry when you argue with him, you usually just get really sad. Your disagreements are usually quiet and filled with tears. It was your least favorite thing to do. You hated having serious conversations with Harry and couldn't help but cry when they happened. Harry was a sympathetic cryer so when you cried, he cried. In the 10 years that you and Harry have been together, you only yelled at him in an argument probably 4 times. So, he found this moment quite amusing.
"Why the fuck are you laughing?"
"I'm not," he chuckled looking up at your angry eyes.
He kept that smirk on his lips as he stared at you deeply, your blood beginning to boil as a breathy giggle left his lips.
"Oh my god, I'm so sick of this," you snapped, turning around and getting ready to storm into the bathroom.
"Y/N, stop."
He was quick to grab your arm, pulling him into you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from running from him. Placing both hands on his hips, you glared up at him, "What?"
He didn't reply, his eyes bore into yours while he was pushing your hips against his, jutting his out to show you exactly what he was feeling. You could feel his tight bulge straining in his slacks against your pelvis and you could not believe what was happening.
"You're hard?" you replied as your lips mindlessly curved up in amusement, "Why?"
"Dunno, you rarely yell at me when we argue. It's kinda sexy," he replied, his voice slow and deep.
"What?" You were the one laughing now, "You're not supposed to get turned on. You're supposed to get pissed at me."
"I am pissed at you. But you're fuckin' cute when you get angry." He looked you up and down once more before adding, "Might be this outfit too."
"Oh my gosh, I wanna be mad at you so bad because of this but I'm really amused."
"Are we about to have angry sex?"
You didn't even answer him. You immediately pulled him down by the back of his neck and attacked his lips with yours. He kissed you back, moving in sync with you. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting you as you backed him up against the edge of the bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he immediately sat down, pulling you with him. Pulling your dress up past your hips so you could spread your legs, you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your ass, cupping and squeezing it.
You continued to kiss him, making out like you were teenagers. Your kisses were fast and sloppy, your panties dampening as you ground your hips against his center. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the soft strands gently. You felt your clit throbbing in anticipation and you knew you couldn't wait too long before he filled you up.
Your hands frantically slid down his body, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You had been so upset with him, you had overlooked how good he looked tonight. He wore a white button-up, only having the bottom two buttons tied together to show off his tanned, tattooed chest. He paired it with a pair of black slack pants and white loafers that he had slipped off the moment you got back to your room. He had his famous cross and phallic banana necklaces on and had rings lined on almost every one of his fingers.
You slid his top off of his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His glistening skin and dark tattoos were now on full display for you. You ran your fingernails across his body, feeling every inch of his torso that you could reach. You continued to grind your center against his, circling your hips so his bulge rubbed perfectly against your clothed clit.
"I want you so bad," he breathed out and you hummed against his lips in agreement.
His fingertips grabbed onto the hem of your silky dress and pulled it up over your head, tossing it with his shirt. Your lips only parted to pull the dress off, immediately attaching again once you were exposed to him. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your strapless bra with ease, letting it fall onto your lap. After grabbing it and tossing it, his hands cupped both breasts and kneaded them harshly.
His kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at all your sweet spots. You let your head fall to the side to give him more access and hummed in satisfaction. His lips trailed even further down until they latched onto your right breast. He sucked at your nipple, hand still kneading your left one. Flicking his tongue back and forth against your bud, your back arched into him. Nibbling on it, you whimpered and he pulled away, giving your other breast the same amount of attention.
Returning back to your lips, he tugged on the band of your panties, acknowledging that he wanted them off. You stood up in between his legs and pulled your panties down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. While you did that, he unbuttoned the button on his pants, lifted his hips, pushed them down his thighs, and pulled them off his legs.
Both of you were now completely naked and exposed to each other. You straddled his lap again and he reached down between your bodies, sliding his fingers between your folds to feel your wetness. He groaned softly as his middle finger and ring finger slipped past your opening with ease. You mimicked his moan when his fingers began to move in and out of you, the coldness of his peace ring and his pearl ring sending chills up your spine.
"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so fuckin' horny right now," he groaned desperately.
"I need you inside me," you whimpered into his ear, equally as desperate, "right now, Harry, please."
"C'mere," he hummed.
Pulling his fingers out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and stood up. Turning around, he laid you down on the sheets with your hips at the edge of the bed while standing in between your spread legs. He grasped onto both of your ankles and hooked them around his shoulders. Wrapping his right palm around his member, he wasted no time and immediately positioned his swollen tip at your entrance, sliding in while he hovered over you. You both let out moans at the euphoric feeling of him filling you up. He stilled inside of you, allowing you a minute to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours and he grunted softly when he felt you clench around him.
Leaning back up, he grabbed onto each of your thighs to ground you. Not holding anything back, he began thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew every single one of your sweet spots and every single movement that made you putty in his hands.
His thighs slapped against yours and your breasts bobbed with each hard thrust of his hips. Your orgasm was quickly starting to grow closer and you found yourself clenching around him each time his tip brushed up against your good spot. Your face contorted with pleasure and you tightly gripped the sheets below you.
"Oh fuck," you whimpered softly, "Harry, yes!"
"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted in between stagged breaths, "Just wanted me to fuck you like this?"
His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs, most likely leaving marks for you to complain about the next morning. The bed squeaked under you and you knew the backs of your thighs were quickly turning bright red with the repetitive slapping. It was purely a pornographic scene and you were in complete and utter bliss.
"Answer me."
"Yes, yes," you chanted, "I needed this so bad. Needed you, Harry."
Lifting your head slightly, you looked down and watched as he disappeared in and out of you. He was slick with you, sparkling against the light in the room. You could physically hear how wet you are for him. His movements intensify that sound with each thrust. You let your head fall back down to the bed and look up at him. He's looking down between your bodies, watching what you were just watching. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his jaw hung slack as he breathed irregularly.
You watched as his muscles clenched with each thrust, a sheen layer of sweat beginning to form on his skin, glittering his tattoos. You let your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure grew. You felt his left hand leave your thigh and immediately grasp onto your breast, squeezing it and allowing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch at your nipples.
Without warning, he wrapped his hands around your sides and flipped you over so you were on your belly. He tapped your hip gently, acknowledging you to sit up. Resting your elbows on the sheets to support your body, you stuck your ass up in the air for him, leaning back and pressing into him. He positioned at your entrance again and started back up where he had left off.
The sound of his skin slapping and your wetness continued to echo loudly throughout the room and if he wasn't making you feel so damn good right now, you would be worried about people outside the room hearing.
"Talk to me. This is exactly what you fuckin' wanted so tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"No," you whimpered, trying to get a rise out of him, "you don't love me anymore."
"Say that one more time and I'll spank you 'till you cry," he grunted.
You grinned at his words. You knew he wouldn't actually spank you until you cried, but you wanted to challenge him, "I'm not wrong."
His hand swatted at the fullest part of your ass and you squealed at the slight sting, his rings he never took off intensifying that sting. He never spanked you super hard, just enough to get you to straighten up when you were being sassy with him.
"Wanna try me again?"
"You never give me attention anymore."
Another spank landed across your ass and you moaned, his hand massaging the area to soothe the sting, "You're such a brat. You're asking for it now, aren't you?"
After one more smack against your skin, he grunted and his thrusts came to an abrupt stop. You were about to protest but then felt his big hands collecting your hair. He switched all of it to one hand, holding it up into a ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling your head back so that he could easily lean down to nip at your ear lobe and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed onto your hip again and began thrusting.
"Want me all to yourself all the fuckin' time, huh?" he growled into your ear, sending shivers up your spine.
"You're mine," you moaned, "Don't like sharing you."
"Fuckin' selfish is what you are," he grunted in your ear, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"
You moaned in response, breath hitching in your throat before he continued, "Got people wanting my attention left and right and you only want me for yourself. I can see why though, with how good I make you feel. Not once have I ever failed to have you fuckin' trembling under me, babe."
"You're such a fucking narcissist," you grunted, words coming out strangled.
He chuckled deeply, biting on the shell of your ear, "It's the sole reason why you married me, innit? 'cause of how easy I can get you to scream my name?"
"Fuck off," you groaned and he chuckled again, loving how he got to you.
"Got the sexiest girl in the world to be my wife. How can I not be narcissistic?"
"Mmm," you whimpered, ignoring him, "Want more."
"More? Am I not giving you enough right now?"
"No, gimme more."
"Greedy, greedy girl. You're my greedy girl though, that right?"
You hummed in agreement as he let go of your hair, your head immediately hanging low. With both hands now on your hips, fingertips gripping your skin tightly, he changed his rhythm. Fast and hard. Exactly what you wanted right now.
"I'll give you whatever you want. Got me wrapped around your little finger."
"Obviously not, or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now," you grunted in sync with the smack of his hips against yours.
"Still mad at me, huh?"
"Just shut up and make me cum," you groaned.
You heard him chuckle behind you as he kept his rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm by the second. His thighs smacked against yours and the sound echoed throughout your hotel room. Your breath was hitched in your throat, your face contorted with pleasure and your jaw slack as moans occasionally escaped when your hitched breath allowed.
He got so deep inside you, hitting your special spot just underneath where your clit was located with each thrust of his powerful hips. His fingers were gripping your hips tightly, nails carving crescent moon shapes within your skin. Your clenched around him and you could feel every inch of him moving against your walls.
"Oh, Harry," you whimpered into the sheets and Harry's heart swelled as he noticed how much you needed this. How much you needed him.
With the length of his thrusts shortening and pace only slowing down slightly, he leaned down and pressed his back against yours, cupping your waist to pull him into you.
"Haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, have I, baby?" he grunted into your ear, words in sync with his thrusts.
"Mm mm," you whimpered, his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
"Been neglecting my favorite person in the world. My beautiful wife, fuck, I love you so much."
You couldn't even reply. Your voice wouldn't let you, the only thing you could get out was moans of pure pleasure by not only him inside of you, but also him finally giving you exactly what he wanted. His hands slid up your torso and gripped your breasts, squeezing them as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. You could tell he was close by the way his member twitched inside of you, his strangled moans, and the feeling of his face contorting against your back.
"Need you to cum, baby." he breathed out, "I can't cum if you don't cum first."
"I need-" you began and it was like he read your mind, fingers heading straight for your throbbing clit and rubbing it side to side vigorously, causing you to breathe out, "Yeah."
It didn't take much longer before your body became numb with pleasure. You were trembling, screaming into the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the covers. Harry continued his movements to carry you through your orgasm, causing it to pulse through you in waves, euphoria completely clouding your mind.
You came down from your high with heavy breaths, the continued stimulation from his thrusts sending a new wave of pleasure over you. When it became too much, you whimpered and he pulled out, groaning painfully, "Where do you want me?"
"My back," you breathed out.
You laid down on your stomach and moved all your hair to your front, while he continued to pump himself to keep his orgasm from falling. Once you were in position, he pressed one knee to the bed to angle himself above you. It was only seconds before you felt the warm feeling of him painting your back with his creamy release, your jaw falling slack. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips as he worked himself through his orgasm, pleasure consuming his body just as it did you only seconds earlier.
Once he had milked the last of his orgasm, he immediately got up to grab a few tissues to clean you off.
"You okay, babe?" he asked while wiping the tissue across your skin.
"Mhm," you hummed in response, ready to just fall asleep in his arms.
Throwing away the soiled tissue, he stated, "All done."
You turned over onto your side and he laid down next to you, pulling you into him, breathing out, "Didn't lie when I said I always get you trembling under me, huh?"
You rolled your eyes teasingly at him, "You're so annoying."
"I love you. You know that, right?"
"I know. We still need to talk though. The problem didn't just go away 'cause you're good in bed."
He chuckled deeply, "Can we talk tomorrow? Just wanna hold you right now."
"Yeah, lemme go to the bathroom then we can go to bed," you replied as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.
"Love you, sexy," he teased, landing a soft smack across the curve of your ass as you got up.
You giggled, "I love you too."
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evilminji · 4 months
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Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>
@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.
But!
I seek your Knowledge(TM).
From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.
Fuck um.
He was tired of it.
But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.
It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.
If No, fuck off.
If Yes, new monarch.
Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?
He can't even get rid of it!
......by himself.
Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.
It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.
God he's so tired.
It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.
He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?
Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.
Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.
Cause none of it's his.
All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.
And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.
Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.
He's so tired.
The nightclub's pretty cool.
So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?
And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?
Halfa.
I have no idea what that is. What do you want?
He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?
Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.
Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.
He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.
Lucifer can't help notice the crown.
Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?
And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.
Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.
.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.
He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.
He can sleep on the couch.
Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.
And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.
Ah.
.....well shit.
(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.
Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?
No one knooooows~
But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)
(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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samwinchesterswifu · 1 month
Text
You Shook Me All Night Long (Dean Winchester x Reader) Smut
Bunker seasons era
Song Inspo: "You Shook Me All Night Long" by ACDC
Warnings: literally the whole thing is just smut lmfao
MINORS DNI
A/N: ive been having TERRIBLE writers block. I dunno how happy i am with this one, so PLEASE let me know if this good smutty shit yall, thnxs for your endless support <3
Word Count: 1103
Summary: He surprises her with coming home early...but that's not the only thing he surprises her with.
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The boys were away on a week long hunt. Since injuring her knee a few months ago during a Ghoul hunt, she’s decided to take a break from hunting to allow her body full time to heal. This allowed her a lot of time to make the Bunker a proper home for them. She would spend her weekends keep housing if the boys were still gone, then during the week she would spend time in the library cataloging or helping with research. Then, whenever Dean came home, she was hands on with focus. Her and Dean had been a thing for a little while. The stress of the job eventually breaking down the tough looking hunter asking her to be his life partner. She had happily agreed. There was no real label on their relationship, just two people who understood each other more than any other human.
It was a Sunday morning. Dean had called her the night before, informing her that they would probably be home Sunday night, or possibly into Monday. She was excited to see Dean. Since taking her leave, Dean coming home from these longer hunts added an extra excitement to their relationship. But knowing he won’t be home until as late as tomorrow, she treated it like any other Sunday.
Dressed in little shorts, a cute tank top that showed off her features she began her cleaning routine. Starting in the war room, making her way through the kitchen and then finally to the library. Music blasted throughout the speaker system of the bunker. Charlie had helped set her up with a Bluetooth connection to the old raggedy speakers one weekend while the boys were gone and they had a girls date. It was her little incentive to stay motivated.
One of her favorite 80’s song began on a new rotation of shuffle and she began swagging her hips to the beat of the song while spraying cleaner on the library tables, bending over to get all the way across. She was so distracted by the beat that she didn’t even hear the bunker door open. Dean had arrived home early as a surprise. Dancing around the tables, doing small spins or dance moves, Dean just admired her from a distance. He never got to see her like this. He dropped his bag down and with a thud she turned around to see him. Completely flustered that she was caught. The two of them just starred, Dean was practically undressing her with his eye making her squirm under his gaze.
Neither of them said anything as Dean strode towards her. Grabbing onto her hips, and pulling her tight to his chest. Breathing in the cheap cologne Dean always loved to wear, practically getting drunk off his sent alone. A grin creeps on Dean’s face and he sways the two to the beat. Eyes were locked on one another as he gave her a little spin before bringing her back into sway. A deep blush forms across her cheeks. She hardly ever saw Dean this way, usually this was after a good hunt and no one got hurt. Towards the end of the song, Dean crashes his lips to hers. This was a new hunger she hasn’t experienced. Sure, they’ve had make-up sex, ‘I thought I lost you back there’ sex, and so forth. But this was different, it was ravenous. Dean’s kisses grew heavier, teeth clashing as he drove his hands all over her curves.
At this point, her hips were pinned against one of the library tables. Dean broke away from her lips, kissing along her cheek and down towards the nape of her neck. Nibbling away at different spots along her collar bone. Small mewls and moans of pleasure leave her lips, earning a tighter grip of his hands on her. Dean leans down for a brief moment, hoisting her up by her legs to sit her on the table. He gently pushes her shoulders back on the hardwood, and continues to trail kisses down her clothed body. As he gets closer to her stomach, Dean shifts to be on his knees. Which was surprising. He places tiny kisses across her hips as he uses his hands to push open her legs. Dean yanks off her shorts underwear in a swift movement. Both pieces coming off together. This man was starving for her.
“Fuck,” Dean whispers looking at her pussy. His eyes drift back up to hers as he licked his lips.
In a split second, Dean was diving in. Lapping away at her folds like it was the most delectable fruit Dean has ever tasted in his time on earth. An orgasm was ripping through her body with moments. She tugs on his hair as he continues to coach her through the orgasm. But Dean wasn’t done, he was still at it. Moans echoed through the library and she felt so unholy. This is where men of generations came to learn about the monsters of her world, and yet her she was, bare ass on the same table as her man ate her out alive.
Another orgasm was on the horizon, and like the quick man that Dean Winchester is, two of his broad fingers are inserted into her folds. A shocked and rattled moan escapes her at the shock of surprise and pleasure. His fingers are going in and out like a jack rabbit. Dean occasionally curling them to reach her g-spot.
“Come on baby,” Dean whispers from his spot. This man was fucking edging her on.
Another finger inserted.
“If you want my cock, I’ll need another one from you,” his voice was demanding. And she was prepared to meet those demands.
His attack on her just sped up more, and more. While simultaneously sucking on her clit. But finally, she was close.
“Fuck, Dean,” she gasps. Tugging again at his strands.
“Don’t..stop,” breathing was labored and felt like she was about to see stars. She was there…she was right there…
Then there was nothing. The area Dean was just in was cold. Looking up in utter confusion, she sees her man pulled away. His chin shining with her cum and a shit eating grin plaster on his damn face.
She stutters.
“Y-you, you cant do that, please Dean.” The unpleasant feeling of an orgasm left unfinished pulsated through her.
“I’m gunna need you to last all day sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” He says as he gets up from his position.
Giving her a wink, he simply walks away leaving her baffled.
What the hell am I getting myself into.
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yoonivy · 2 months
Text
symptom of your touch.
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modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. But you… You were the only exception. Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.
warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.
author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!
word count. 7k+
--
It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night. 
But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.
“Where is he?”
Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”
You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand. 
To Aegon — where are you????
You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.
“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”
You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”
You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”
“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator. 
After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”
You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”
“That boy… I swear…” 
“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.
“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .
“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.
From Aegon — i’ll be back soon 😘 — just start without me
You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever. 
“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family. 
Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”
Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.
“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”
The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”
Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”
Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”
You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach. 
You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.
You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.
Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.
You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”
“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”
The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare. 
You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with. 
Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.
When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.
His first year away from home was good to him.
“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.
He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”
An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”
Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”
He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.
“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”
Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason. 
He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”
After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.
Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you. 
After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.
Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.
Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.
With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork. 
You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home. 
You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered. 
You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be. 
Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.
You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.
“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff. 
“I– alright…”
When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.
“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.
You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”
Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”
Your heart catches in your throat.
“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”
“I was drunk when I said that.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.
Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”
Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.
You should say no and go home. 
It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.
But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours. 
“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”
Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.
As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours. 
As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.
Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness. 
“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says. 
When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core. 
You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth. 
Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact. 
It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells…  you’re soaked.”
You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs. 
“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him. 
You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more. 
“Aemond, please…”
He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.” 
Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.
“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”
Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone. 
Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.
“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that. 
Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.
He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.
“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”
Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no. 
That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.
But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.
And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.
You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away. 
As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before. 
His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.
You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.
Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you. 
He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you. 
Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.
“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.
“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again. 
There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away. 
So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.
When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.
“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door. 
After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.
You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you. 
“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase. 
Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.
“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.
But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”
You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.
“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more. 
He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.
He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.
“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”
To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips. 
“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”
Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.
You’re greedy. So greedy. 
You love the way Aemond makes you feel.  
He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.
You revel in it. 
Greedy. Greedy. Greedy. 
“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”
Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.
You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry —  you don’t know why but that’s how you like it. 
(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)
At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second. 
Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.
Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again… 
It’s because it has been a week since he had you, so really, he is just making up for lost time.
--
You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning. 
Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.  
Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you. 
“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips. 
“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.
Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch. 
Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.
You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.
“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.
Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face. 
“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.
You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”
Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.
Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”
Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt. 
As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.
It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.
“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”
“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”
“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”
In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.
Aemond already knows who it is. 
It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.
Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother. 
“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.  
Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.
Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.
But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
--
Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles. 
He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen. 
When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him. 
He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.  
It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him. 
You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while. 
Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.
All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”
Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”
Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry. 
Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.
“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.
“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”
“And you think I want to know?”
“Just– tell me–”
“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known. 
Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger. 
“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.
Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.
Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”
You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”
Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.
And for the third time that summer, you crush Aemond’s heart beyond repair.
--
Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.  
Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her. 
He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to. 
It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago. 
But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young. 
Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.  
Rinse and repeat. 
The cycle will never end. 
Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority. 
Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings. 
But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen. 
“Hey, are you ready yet?”
Speak of the devil…
Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it. 
“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.
Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”
Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”
Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.
Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?” 
Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?
“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”
With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.” 
Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit. 
Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically. 
Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop. 
Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head. 
“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”
At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even. 
“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”
Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”
Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated. 
So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.
With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing. 
“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”
Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”
Once again alone in his room, Aemond lets out the ragged breath he had not known he was even holding. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead enough to hurt — but it's still not as bad as the squeezing of his heart.
--
It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there. 
When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them. 
Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.
Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.
That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.
So pretty, like a shining star.
So close, yet so out of reach.
Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder. 
With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.
With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.
As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.
In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,
You do?
Aegon nods. 
Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns. 
It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.
And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life. 
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. 
When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.
When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.
But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.
Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.
Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.
Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit. 
And Aemond? 
He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.
612 notes · View notes
hqbaby · 13 days
Text
fourteen — kiss me again
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2k content. profanity, sexual content [elevator sex, fingering, oral f receiving]
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Once the adrenaline of the last few minutes has dissipated, you and Sukuna find yourselves painfully awkward as you stand in the elevator, placing a respectful distance between the two of you.
“How—”
“Do—”
You both stop talking, looking at each other with nervous smiles. You laugh to try and ease the tension, but somehow it only makes it worse.
He nods at you, wringing his hands. “You go first.”
You look away. “Nothing,” you say. “I was just gonna ask how—”
The lights go out around you and the elevator comes to a sudden halt. You stumble at the unexpected stop, but Sukuna grabs you before you fall.
“Did it just—”
“—stop? Yeah,” you say, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the darkness. “The power’s been fluctuating recently and the elevator’s been doing this.”
You become acutely aware of the fact that you’re pressed flush against your best friend’s chest, so you right yourself and pull back, his reluctant arm loosening its grip on you.
“How long does it usually last?” he asks.
“Not more than ten minutes,” you tell him. The ache of your legs makes itself known and you sit on the floor. There’s no use standing while you wait. “Sorry about this.”
You can see him shake his head, your eyes adjusting to the dark. “It’s fine,” he says, carefully sitting down next to you. He’s still pointedly far away from you. Not too much to be strange, but enough to not touch you, even by accident. “I guess we wait.”
You hum. “I guess.”
The two of you sit on the floor of the tiny box, occasionally shifting to stretch your legs, to look at your hands. The tension is terribly apparent, but neither of you has the nerve to address it. Every time you look over at Sukuna, he looks away, and when he tries to look at you, you turn to your side.
This little song and dance goes on for a while until—
“Do you just wanna talk about the kiss?” he asks bluntly.
You let out a relieved groan. “Yes please,” you say, scooching closer to him. “So? What did you think?”
He snorts, peering at you as you come close enough to brush your shoulders against his. “Of the kiss?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Am I a good kisser? I’ve never really asked anyone that before because it’s pathetic, but I’ve been dying to know.”
“I dunno,” he says teasingly. “Pretty sure I carried the kiss.”
You punch his shoulder. “You did not.”
“Felt that way to me.”
“You’re such a loser,” you tell him. You grab his shoulder and shake him around a little. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”
He plucks your hand off and interlaces it with his. A romantic gesture with anyone else, but a regular occurrence between the two of you. “You know, you’re a really annoying person.”
“Fuck you. You love me.”
His grip on your hand goes slack for a second as he looks away. You know that it’s dark right now and there’s really not much to see, but you spy the catch in his breath. You see the way he grows skittish as you tighten your hold on his hand. And there’s another thing, even more miniscule but incredibly obvious to you.
“Are you blushing?” you say loudly.
He pulls his hand away from yours and snarls at you. “What the fuck?”
“You are!” you say with a gasp. You point a finger at him, all childish and giddy. “You’re fucking—”
You’re cut off by his lips on yours. It’s harsher than last time. A stark contrast to the gentle nervousness of your last kiss. This time, it’s rough and wet and messy. And you hate to say it, but it’s incredibly hot.
You kiss him back, your hands going to his hair as he finds your hips, pulling you closer to him. You’re so caught up in the feverish haze of it all that it takes you a while to hear the voice screaming in the back of your head. What are you doing?
You press your hands to his chest and push him away. You blink at him in the dark, short breaths leaving your lips as you find him staring at you with an intensity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.
“Sukuna,” you say quietly. “Are you sure about this?”
His eyes flick over to your lips then back to your own eyes, staring at him all wide and uncertain. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he says. “Do you not—Do you not want to?”
There’s something so sweet about the way he stumbles over his words, his hold on your hips going from confidently sexy to horrifyingly self aware. He leans back with parted lips. It’s like he’s waiting for your rejection, waiting for you to turn him down.
You lift a hand to cup his cheek and you chuckle. “I want to,” you whisper, leaning closer until your eyelashes flutter against his. “I just… this is a lot for me.”
“I know, I know,” he reassures you. His hand rubs your hips in small soothing circles as he looks at you sheepishly. “This is a lot for me too.”
You close your eyes and brush your lips against his. “Kiss me again?”
You hear him laugh. “Anything for you, tiger.”
The kiss is tender this time. Closer to your first kiss, but with the assurance that this is something you both want. You melt against him, hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, over the plane of his chest. He touches you softly, letting his fingers linger on the small of your back, up your spine, behind your neck.
Kissing Sukuna is like breathing, catching a second wind again and again with every touch of your lips to his.
You move against him, rocking your hips gently, little waves touching the shore. His tongue slips out and brushes against the bottom of your lip, a silent request that you indulge. Your hands are on his neck now, playing the short strand of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever so close to you.
His touch trails down your back and lands on your thighs, fingers lifting the fabric of your skirt to touch your burning skin. His hands rub your skin, every now and then getting close to the space between your thighs, but never touching, never giving you what you really want. He’s so careful, so sensitive to doing the right thing and as much as you want to applaud him for it, you can feel the heat growing in your core. The frustration beginning to inch through your bones,
You detach your mouth from his and ever so quietly, you ask, “‘Kuna, can you—can you touch me?”
His hands graze over the fabric of your panties. “Here?” he asks softly, slipping a finger over the wet fabric.
A moan escapes your lips at the sudden contact and you hold on tight to him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”
“You don’t need to beg, tiger,” he tells you. He pushes the fabric to the side and runs his finger along the stripe of your cunt. “All you gotta do is ask.”
He moves his mouth back to kiss you as he slips a finger inside of you, swallowing your whimpers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He presses his thumb on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you as he drags his finger in and out, in and out. “Do you like that, tiger?”
You press your face into the crook of his neck, panting as he works between your legs. “More, ‘Kuna.”
“Greedy girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”
He pulls his hand off of you and you jerk back in confusion at the sudden loss of contact. “What—”
He guides you backwards and makes you sit on your knees. You place your hands on the floor behind you to prop you up, raising a brow in confusion. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he ducks his head between your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he laps at your pussy.
“Oh shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue sucks at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull, moaning when he slots a finger back inside you.
He pushes the digit deeper and curls it against a spot that sends you reeling. “Right there?” he asks, still intent on eating you out.
You keen with every move, with every brush of his finger against your walls, every kiss of his tongue on your throbbing clit. It’s too much, it’s not enough. The only thing on your mind is Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna.
“Are you close, tiger?” he asks. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, your hold on his hair only growing tighter. “You gonna come for me?”
You’re so caught up in your pleasure that the only thing you can do is nod and whimper. “‘Kuna, I’m so close,” you tell him. “Gonna come for you.”
“That’s my girl,” he says. He pulls his mouth off of you and replaces it with his thumb, rolling your clit beneath his finger as the other two continue to curl inside of you. He pressed his lips to the span of skin on your stomach where your shirt rides up. “Give me a kiss, tiger. Please.”
You open your eyes and groan at the sight of his cheek pressed to your stomach, looking at you with pleading eyes as his finger moves sinfully between your legs. You sit up, wincing as the movement sends his fingers diving deeper into you, and you grab his collar, pulling him closer to kiss you.
The kiss is more heated now, what with you getting closer and closer to your high, but it’s just as sweet. Just as gentle as earlier.
He moves his unoccupied hand to your neck, holding you close to him. “Come for me, tiger,” he sighs against your lips. “Want my girl to come for me.”
His words send you over the edge, a wanton moan tumbling out of your lips as you grab his collar, the only thing grounding you as your high descends on you, all intense and hot and positively electric.
Sukuna kisses you through your high, moving his hand from your neck to your back, fingers drawing up and down your spine.
When your orgasm fades, you pull your lips away from his and find him smiling at you. Not his usual teasing smirk, not his smug little grin, a smile of pure unadulterated joy.
“You good?” he asks, drawing his hands away from between your legs and letting them settle on your waist.
You giggle and nod. “I’m good.”
The two of you end up laughing, out of relief mostly but also a happiness that neither of you thought was possible. You settle on Sukuna’s lap, still facing him as he holds you to his chest, soaking in every bit of your presence, your touch, your everything.
“Thank fuck for broken elevators,” he muses aloud.
You chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to look at him. “Thanks for always showing up when I need you.”
He pecks your cheek, still smiling. “Anytime, tiger.”
You snuggle into him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you place your head on his shoulder. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel something poking at your ass—the something being his painfully hard dick.
“Is that…?” you ask, unmoving.
“Yup,” he says, voice a little strained.
“Do you want me to—”
“Nope.” Sukuna clears his throat. “Let’s, uh, wait to get to your apartment. Just ignore it.”
“It’s kinda hard to ignore.”
“Ignore it, tiger,” he says again, holding you tight so you don’t make any sudden moves. “It can—yeah, it can wait.”
You smile into his shoulder. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna. Whatever you say.”
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notes. this is for all the sukuna girlies 😩
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skylarsblue · 1 year
Text
I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.
(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.
-- (Interrogating Valeria)
Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-
-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-
-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!
-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?
-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)
Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-
-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-
-- (During movie night; watching Venom)
Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!
-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??
--
Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.
-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!
-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*
-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!
-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*
-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!
-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.
-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.
-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.
-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.
-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?
-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.
-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.
-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.
-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-
-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.
--
Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!
-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-
-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.
-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!
-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-
-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)
Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.
(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)
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