#like it was such a moving scene it felt so Real and Intimate

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : OFF SCRIPT : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None! Mentions of (Y/N)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You star with Hugh Jackman in a steamy movie, but the lines between acting and reality blur when Hugh starts developing real feelings for you. After confessing his jealousy and attraction, you realize you feel the same, and the two of you go off-script to explore a genuine connection.

Based on this request.

THE MOVIE SET WAS BUZZING WITH EXCITEMENT, lights flickering, cameras rolling, and the tension in the air palpable. You’d landed the lead role in an upcoming erotic thriller—a bold career move that had sparked more than a few raised eyebrows. However, what really set tongues wagging was your co-star.

Hugh Jackman. The Wolverine. The greatest showman himself.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. At 55, Hugh was a global icon, still radiating that rugged charm and magnetic energy that made audiences swoon. You, on the other hand, were in your early thirties, on the rise, and wondering how on earth you’d ended up in a movie where you’d have to—well, you know—get intimate with Hugh Jackman.

The director had wasted no time throwing the two of you into the deep end. The first few scenes together? Explosive chemistry. And Hugh, ever the professional, made it feel so natural, even though you both spent half the day either semi-naked or in bed, pretending to tear each other’s clothes off.

~🎬~

"Alright, everyone, places!" The director clapped his hands, signaling the next shot.

You glanced at Hugh, who was casually leaning against a prop desk, shirtless. He caught your gaze, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes. Something that wasn’t just acting. You brushed it off as nerves.

"Let’s do this," you muttered to yourself, adjusting the strap of your robe, which you’d soon be dropping.

Hugh approached you, flashing that million-dollar grin. "You ready for this?"

"As ready as I’ll ever be," you replied with a nervous laugh. "I’m still not sure how you can do this with such confidence."

He chuckled, voice low and warm. "Years of experience, love. Just remember, it’s all choreography. We’re professionals."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Right. Professionals. Naked professionals."

Before he could respond, the director’s voice boomed again, "And…action!"

The scene called for you to push Hugh up against the wall, all passion and heat, and for the next few minutes, that’s exactly what you did. Your bodies pressed together, lips inches apart, the camera capturing every bead of sweat, every intense breath. But between takes, there was something more—an almost imperceptible softness in Hugh’s touch, a lingering glance when the director called cut.

~🎬~

Later that day, you found yourself in another steamy scene—but this time, not with Hugh.

Jake, one of the other actors, had been cast as a secondary love interest, and while your chemistry with him was nowhere near as electric, it was enough to sell the scene. You were mid-take, kissing Jake on a couch when you noticed Hugh watching from behind the camera. He was supposed to be off set for this, but there he was, arms crossed, a small frown on his face.

"Cut!" The director called. "That was good, but I need more passion, (Y/N). Really go for it."

You tried again, but the second your lips met Jake’s, you caught Hugh’s expression in your peripheral vision. Was he…jealous?

The next take was even worse. Your brain refused to cooperate, replaying the image of Hugh standing there, looking like he was about to burst through the set like Wolverine in a rage.

Finally, the director let you both off the hook and called for a break. As you got up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you felt a presence behind you. Hugh.

"Bit of a rough take, huh?" he said, his voice low, but his eyes held a teasing glint.

You spun to face him. "Were you watching?"

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged, trying to look casual. "It’s hard not to when…you know…" He gestured vaguely at Jake. "You’re out there, doing that."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Doing what, Hugh?"

His lips twitched into a smirk, but he quickly suppressed it. "Nothing. Just… I mean, does it have to be so steamy?"

"Uh, yeah, it’s in the script," you teased back, crossing your arms. "Are you getting jealous?"

"What?" He let out a laugh that sounded way too forced. "Me? Jealous? Ridiculous!"

You stepped closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Sounds like jealousy to me, Jackman."

"Okay, fine, maybe a little," he admitted, running a hand through his hair, that charming grin back on his face. "I mean, I get it. I know it’s acting, but…you know, it’s weird seeing you kiss someone else. Especially when we’ve, uh, done…everything but that."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, remembering your more intimate scenes with him. "Hugh, you do realize that we’re supposed to be acting professionals, right?"

He sighed, his smile turning softer. "Yeah, but sometimes, things get a little blurry. At least for me."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait… are you saying you…?"

"I’m saying I might’ve caught feelings for you somewhere between take seven of that bedroom scene and the moment you pushed me up against that wall," he confessed, his voice serious now.

Your heart did a weird flip in your chest. This was not in the script. "Hugh, I—"

"Look, I know there’s an age gap, and this is all very unprofessional, but…" He ran his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don’t know, (Y/N). It’s been getting harder to separate what’s real and what’s not."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the director called everyone back to set before you could get a word in.

~🎬~

The rest of the day was a blur, Hugh’s confession playing on a loop in your mind. By the time you wrapped for the day, you found him sitting in one of the trailers, staring at his phone, clearly deep in thought.

You knocked softly on the doorframe. "Hey."

He looked up, his face softening as soon as he saw you. "Hey."

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "So…about earlier."

He stood up, his hands slipping into his pockets, suddenly looking far less like the confident actor you knew. "Yeah, about that…"

"Was that you going off-script?" you teased, though your heart was racing.

He chuckled, but his eyes stayed serious. "Something like that."

You took a deep breath. "Well, for the record…I think I’ve been blurring the lines, too."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You have?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Yeah. I mean, how could I not? You’re Hugh freakin’ Jackman."

He let out a real laugh this time, the tension in the room breaking. "And you’re (Y/N) freakin’ (L/N)."

You smiled, taking a step closer. "So, what do we do now?"

He shrugged, stepping toward you as well. "Well, there’s no script for this part. I say we improvise."

With that, Hugh closed the gap between you, pulling you into a soft, lingering kiss—one that felt far more real than anything the cameras had captured all day.

And for once, it wasn’t acting.

🏷️: @oatmilkriver @khxna @haytchee @corvusmorte @shybluebirdninja @chronicallybubbly @evasmlp @lex-the-flex

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!!

[desperatepleasures]

just vividly remembered how murata loses his glasses in the novels one time when isekai'd and he and yuuri are separated for a long time but yuuri finds his glasses and then when they're finally reunited yuuri clumsily yet tenderly puts muratas glasses back on for him..........takabayashi was insane for that one

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky and actress reader

He cums accidentally while trying to hold it together during a sex scene.

Imagine a gorgeous but shy beefy Bucky nervous as hell filming an intimate scene with his co star because hes harbouring the most massive crush on her.

He in nothing but a tiny cup covering his most private parts, his perky sculpted ass barely covered by the thin sheet laid on top you both.

“You okay?” He whispers, always checking in on you, his large mass covering you entirely. You give him a shy smile, nodding, the feel of your hands moving to drape around his shoulder making him blush.

“Alright! Get ready to sell it Barnes” Tony calls out, hushing everyone before he starts rolling, signalling a thumbs up to sam to start filming “and action!!”

Bucky braces himself on his forearms keeping his body off yours, moving forward instead of actually thrusting. The lewd sounds you start to make make his hips involuntarily buck forward more than necessary and he nearly stutters.

“Oh God! Please, slow down” you cry softly, portraying your role as a shy house wife perfectly, nervous to consummate her marriage.

Bucky doesn’t think he can take your delicate pleading, his cock straining, desperate for some relief. He can feel it leaking the more you moan, his knuckles turning white gripping onto the sheets.

“So good to me” Bucky whispers back, swallowing thickly as his mind starts to wander over how you’d sound it he was actually stretching you out. Would you moan about how he was too big? Would you beg for him to keep going till he dripped right out of your sweet cunt? Would you want to lick and taste how wet he got for you, moaning over how fat and thick his dick was, worried over how you’d fit all of him inside you? His massive size carried all over, the blush on his face spreading to his neck when his erection nearly brushes against your covered core.

You blink up at him, staring into his baby blue eyes feeling his hardness press against you as it grows, nearly wetting the sheets. Your eyes are locked together and Bucky’s sure he’s not going to control himself, not when you’re looking at him like that. Not when you’re biting your lip, he could’ve sworn he felt your hips buck up, your thighs spreading slightly.

You let out a whimper, his warm breath fanning over your face and he can smell how fucking wet you are. He’s humping the air, just centimetres from where he really wants to be, fuck he wasn’t going to hold it, his balls felt tight, his cock was going to fucking burst-

“Kiss me My love” you say your final line before pulling him down for a heated kiss, letting it get more hot and heavy that the script intended. As soon as he tastes your tongue on his, he moans into your mouth, eyes rolling back, his back muscles flexed and tensed as he soaks the with his cum. He doesn’t pull away, tearing the sheets with his grip as he cums hard, his cock throbbing, till he can feel the front all warm and damp, whimpering till he’s all empty.

“AND CUT! FANTASTIC” Tony cheers, over the moon with how it turned out, “that was great and nice touch ripping the sheets Barnes, made it look real. Everyone take 5 and we’ll shoot that diner scene”

Everyone starts to pack up to get ready for the next shoot and Bucky swears he hears you let out a little giggle as you pull away, smiling at his flustered state.

“You okay, Buck?” You coo while he bites back a whine, his softening cock now sensitive and aching. Your assistant runs over to slip you into a robe, dragging you off to hair and makeup while he holds the sheet to the lower half of his body.

He grabs the robe Steve hands to him, smirking at his best friend with his head cocked to the side.

“You sure that was acting, Buck?” Steve snorts, nodding to the wet patch on the sheet while Bucky groans, grabbing it and stuffing it away before running off to his room.

“Shut up”

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene IV: The Quiet Morning)

The tension between you and Spencer reaches a breaking point the next morning.

Part warning: (18+) breast play, fingering, and some grinding action because he can’t stop himself Words: 1.9k A/n: this might be the quietest smut I’ve ever written, but we need to keep the tension going because it’s good for the drama🤩 i also wanna say that i wrote this in between my pile of work so please excuse me if you see any mistakes or some weird description that doesn’t make any sense. my head is about to explode

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You woke up with an arm draped across your waist. Under normal circumstances, you would have jumped at the unexpected contact, but when the memory of last night crossed your half-conscious mind, it shouldn’t have surprised you.

Although you weren’t sure how you ended up like this. The details of the night before were a bit hazy, like fragments of a dream slipping through your fingers. You remembered the intensity, the undeniable pull that had drawn you together, but how it had led to this calm, intimate closeness was a mystery.

The gentle weight of his hand resting on your stomach was a constant reminder of the compromising position you were in. You wondered whether he was awake, or whether he was merely drifting in that blurry space between sleep and consciousness. You couldn’t help but wonder if he even realized how tightly he was holding you.

But then a subtle brush across your stomach made you tense unexpectedly. You felt his warm breath fanning across your skin, a shaky exhale that barely made a sound as it passed through his lips. There was an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air suggesting he was, in fact, already awake.

You shifted slightly. This seemed like the right moment to address what happened last night. The quiet of the morning made it seem like an appropriate time to confront your emotions, to peel back the layers of what was quickly becoming something more real. More than just a lie

But neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of your breathing. You lay there, waiting, your mind conjuring up various scenarios of what might happen next. You imagined him awkwardly stumbling over an apology, or worse, bolting out of the room in a rush of confusion and regret. Yet you certainly didn’t expect what came next.

He pressed a hesitant kiss at the back of your neck.

You froze, caught completely off guard. You thought of pulling away, but your body remained still, almost as if it refused to react until your brain processed the rush of emotions flooding through you. For a moment, you felt suspended in time, unable to move, to think, to breathe. But as you felt his tongue trace a warm, delicate line along the curve of your neck, you knew you couldn’t resist him any longer.

You tilted your head, giving him better access to the tender skin beneath your ear. His lips found the spot where your pulse throbbed most visibly, and he lingered there, sucking gently the whole time you squirmed in his arms.

He took your response as encouragement, letting his hand trail along your stomach before stopping at the hem of your shirt. He paused, his hand resting lightly against you as if asking for permission. A moment of hesitation fluttered through your mind, but it didn’t last too long. With a deep breath, you gave a small nod, signaling him to continue.

His palm was warm as he slipped beneath the fabric, tracing soft patterns on your skin. You tensed momentarily at the initial contact, then relaxed into his touch as he gently skimmed along, drawing invisible lines towards the soft skin where your breast met your ribcage. He paused yet again, this time as if he was waiting for any sign from you to stop. But you gave none. How could you stop when every part of your body was trembling with anticipation?

When he realized that you weren’t pulling away, his large palm covered your breast.

You let out an audible gasp.

In all the time you had known him, Spencer was the type of person who approached everything with caution and thoughtfulness, and maybe even a bit reserved. But he was a man full of curiosity, always eager to learn and explore new things, and this time, he was curious about your body.

His hand lingered there, taking in the softness of your skin before his palm molded around the curve of your breast, fingers stretching out to feel the delicate flesh beneath. The pressure was light at first, almost tentative, as if he were gauging your reaction. He then moved his thumb to trace the outline of your nipple, causing it to harden under his touch.

Your skin prickled with arousal as he continued to tease you, brushing over the sensitive peak over and over again until he was satisfied. There was a certain confidence in his movement now, as though he were familiarizing himself with your body. When you arched your back, he responded by pinching your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently, drawing a quiet moan from you.

His own breath was hot and uneven against your neck. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling the firm pressure of his growing arousal against your body. The sensation made you crave more—no, you needed more. Before you could second guess yourself, you pulled his hand away from your breast, only to guide it further down.

His fingers followed your lead, sliding over your stomach and down towards the waistband of your shorts. You felt his breath grow shallow as he realized where you were leading him. He hesitated for a moment, but when you parted your legs for him, his hesitation dissolved. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shorts, and with daring boldness, he let his fingers slide under your panties as well.

The moment he made contact with your bare skin, a shiver ran through your body. He ran his fingertips along the length of your folds with genuine curiosity as if he was wondering how you managed to be this wet already. His fingers slid over your slickness, up, down, and then back up again before he found your throbbing clit. 

Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He circled your clit with slow precision, the pads of his fingers finding just the right pressure to make you gasp. A strained moan escaped your lips, more like a cry of need than anything else, and Spencer seemed to sense your desperation. 

He withdrew his hand from you, and you almost voiced a protest, but it died in your throat as he pushed your shorts down your legs. You quickly helped him, slipping off your panties before you settled back onto your side. But he stopped you, pulling you slightly onto your back so you were half-lying on the bed and half atop him.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he slowly parted your legs. He positioned one of them over his, leaving you fully exposed. You could feel his ragged breath against your ear as his hand moved down the length of your inner thigh. You squirmed when he finally reached your heat.

He traced the outer edges of your folds, teasing you with light, feathery touches before he slipped lower, finding your entrance. He teased you there, dipping just inside before retreating, a drawn-out moan tumbling past your parted lips. He repeated the motion, each time going a little deeper, until finally, he pushed two fingers inside.

The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. His fingers were long, stretching you in ways that made your toes curl. You watched the way his arm flexed, his muscles tensing as he pumped his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He hit a spot inside you that left you gasping and panting, and your desperate hand sought purchase, sliding up behind you. You reached into the soft hair at the back of his head, threading carelessly through the tousled strands as he leaned closer, planting open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, as he continued to thrust his fingers deeper. The pressure built inside your lower stomach, and you could feel the unmistakable rhythm of his hips rutting against your ass. He was hard, his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, brushing against your bare skin with every thrust. Another drive of his hips had you clenching around his fingers, and suddenly, the sweetest noise flew past your ears.

A groan. A very small one, hardly above a whisper, but it was rich and coarse.

The sound only heightened your pleasure, and now you were seconds away from shattering. Your grip on his hair tightened as you turned your head towards him. He responded immediately, his mouth capturing yours desperately, a meeting of tongues and teeth that left you both breathless. You clung onto him as his fingers quickened their pace, and all you could hear was the filthy sound your body was making.

Everything was suddenly too much, and before you knew it, the tension coiled within you snapped. A wave of intense pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling and crying out against his mouth. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, your inner muscles clenching around his fingers as he continued to drive into you, his hips grinding desperately against your ass.

You were now panting, trying to focus through the haze of your orgasm as you felt the hard length of him straining against his pants. You shifted slightly, arching your back to give him better access, and the new angle allowed him to press even closer. His fingers slipped from you, and he grabbed your hip, using it as leverage to grind himself harder, rutting his hips against you with an urgent rhythm.

With a final, forceful thrust, he found his release as a moan that sounded more strained and desperate, almost like a whine, escaped his lips. His body tensed and then relaxed, the tension melting away as he clung to you, his breath heavy and warm against your mouth.

For a moment, you stayed like that, both of you trying to catch your breath. But then the silence that followed became too palpable, stretching on as neither of you seemed ready to break it. You should probably say something, anything to fill the void, but neither of you seemed able to find the right words.

The quiet grew, and you suddenly became acutely aware of everything around you—how your leg was still draped over his, the feeling of his arousal still pressing against you, and the way the cool air brushed your exposed skin. And somehow, amidst it all, you began to feel a creeping sense of unease.

You began to resent how you had allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment. You began to hate your lack of self-control. When your brain was no longer clouded by lust, your thoughts became clear, and now you felt foolish for letting things go this far, for not guarding your emotions as well as your body.

Spencer opened his mouth, but you didn’t want to hear whatever regrets he might voice. You sensed it in the way he slightly pulled away, the way he loosened his grip around you as if he too was trying to make sense of everything. The last thing you needed was to hear those doubts spoken out loud.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The air felt thick, almost suffocating. The more you stayed there, the more you felt like drowning. It was all becoming too much. So you slipped away from his arms, trying to create some much-needed space between you. You didn’t look back as you headed towards the bathroom.

You didn’t look back as he called out your name.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Okay so here, I think, is why I think Red, White and Royal Blue succeeds spectacularly as a romcom, and actually to me is a better-than-average take on the genre.

First, the leads have absolutely scorching chemistry. They are incredibly believable as two men absolutely infatuated with each other. They each kiss like drowning men shown water, right down to how each grabs at the other, at hair or back or neck and face.

They each have developed their character having a specific characteristic even when flirting or kissing. Henry grabs Alex's hair, for example, every single time, in a way that makes it clear he spends serious time thinking about that hair.

Fair enough, Henry.

They also do something even goddamn better.

They are friends. They are believable as two people who could actually get along long enough to fall in love.

They are allowed to become FRIENDS.

They are given time to get to know each other before they get physical. You can feel their interest in each other growing. And, to my opinion, you can tell that Henry is feeling Alex out through texts to see if the interest might be reciprocated even though he thinks it can't possibly be.

One thing that kills me about romcoms is how the leads will have witty "sexy" banter but don't seem to actually like each other. They are enemies who fall into bed but aren't really believable as lovers.

Henry and Alex are believable, because they... Well. They're impossibly silly even when tearing at each other's clothes. They have awkward moments.

They laugh.

Alex laughs in bed. He holds Henry in a way that is romantic, openly so. Henry is overcoming the conditioned hesitation and avoidance he has, his smiles and warmth and laughter come with rare vulnerability - Alex is a man who throws himself head first into life and has no such compunctions in the moment. He laughs because this is awesome and Jesus Christ, Prince Henry is too hot to be real.

They like each other, they stumble, they laugh.

But also, another reason this works so well?

The sex scene isn't scorching.

Watching the sex scene felt realistically intimate. It felt like I had walked in one real people and needed to leave. It was intense in a way that felt like something I maybe wasn't meant to see.

It was filmed so well. So much romanticism and deeply felt adoration in a simple grasping of a hand, the look in soft eyes, a hand pressed against a back. The edge of a knee just in frame. Looking up and looking down.

It felt like we walked into their room during and saw them both laid utterly bare.

Henry's look of vulnerability and nerves and pleasure, Alex looking slowly over his face to take it all in. Moving slowly, then, when everything they do before this is hurried or hidden.

It works as a romcom because you believe 100% these two men could get to like each other, fall in love, and stay that way.

You believe Henry's very real terror of rejection from the public because he already knows his family, beyond his sister, will reject him. You believe that Alex is a headstrong idealist who is sure that you can bulldoze through any wall too tall to climb.

And you believe that between the two of them, they can find a way around the wall entirely.

This movie is a master class on how a movie can get you to suspend so much disbelief if the leads sell their characters. The importance of believable chemistry.

And also... Isn't it nice to see a queer love story in a world that is, in some ways, just a few shades better than our own?

P.S. you cannot tell me Stephen Fry did not chew the goddamn scenery in circles all around everyone during his single scene. That man was having a ball.

[wandering-winchesters]

Under the Stars

Summary: you share a quiet, intimate moment in the woods, where a simple hand-holding leads to a deeper connection under the starry night sky.

Word Count: 607

The evening was quiet, the kind of stillness that settled over the world just before twilight gave way to night. The air was cool, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth as you and Dean Winchester walked side by side down a winding path through the woods. The only sounds were the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant call of an owl somewhere deep in the forest.

You had been walking in companionable silence for a while, both lost in thought, when you felt Dean’s gaze on you. You turned your head to meet his eyes, and the intensity in them made your heart skip a beat. There was something unspoken in that look, something that made the moment feel charged with electricity.

“Can I hold your hand?” Dean’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure what your answer would be.

For a second, you didn’t respond, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his tone. This was the same Dean Winchester who had faced down monsters and demons without flinching, yet here he was, asking you something so simple, so human, with a kind of earnestness that made your heart ache.

Without a word, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. His grip was warm and firm, grounding you in that moment. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you standing there, connected by that simple touch.

Dean let out a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding, and you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes, as if he had been afraid you might say no. He squeezed your hand gently, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t a big smile, not the usual cocky grin you were used to seeing, but something softer, more genuine.

As you continued walking, hand in hand, the silence between you felt different—more intimate. Every step you took seemed to sync up, the rhythm of your footsteps matching perfectly, as if you were both moving to the same unspoken beat. The connection between you felt natural, like it had always been there, waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged.

The path eventually led to a clearing, where the trees opened up to reveal a stunning view of the night sky. The stars were out in full force, twinkling like tiny diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas. You both stopped, taking in the beauty of the scene, and you felt Dean’s hand tighten slightly around yours, as if he were anchoring himself in the moment.

“I don’t do this much,” Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “The whole… letting someone in thing. But with you, it feels different. Feels right.”

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with emotion. “It feels right to me too, Dean.”

He smiled at that, a real smile this time, full of warmth and something that looked an awful lot like hope. You both stood there for a while, just holding hands, staring up at the stars, and enjoying the peacefulness of the night. It was a simple thing, really, but in that simplicity, there was a kind of magic—proof that sometimes, the most powerful connections are forged in the quietest moments.

And as the night deepened, you knew that this was a moment you would both hold onto, a memory that would stay with you no matter where the road took you next. Because in that moment, under the vast expanse of the starry sky, you both found something you hadn’t even realized you were searching for—each other.

[kteezy997]

can i request timmy and reader being costars and they have to film a bit of a spicy scene where they’re supposed to make out and basically dry hump each other. he ends up accidentally making her cum in her flimsy panties under the skirt she‘s supposed to be wearing. he doesn’t notice at first but then he sees the signs, the way she tenses up, how her hips stutter, the more authentic moans than the ones before, the look in her eyes as he kisses along her neck like scripted and one tiny, barely audible whimper of his name. his real name. not his characters name. which surprises him but turns him on like crazy. he ends up getting hard and reader notices after she‘s down from her high. then after the scene they’re really awkward towards each other at first but they end up fucking

Perversion//t.c.

Warnings: smut obvi, degradation, little bit of praise, cursing, light spanking, smoking

There were worse things in life than having to do a sex scene with one of Hollywood’s most promising actors. Timothée Chalamet was often referred to as his generation’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you had gotten to know him as just Timmy.

You had big crush on him, as did a lot of people that worked with him, probably. He had this way about him that made you feel seen and special. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t excited about your intimate scene with him today. It may be the only time you’d ever be so close to him. You had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, though, and that there were cameras and crew members all around.

The director instructed you to get on the bed, lying on your back. Timmy stood nearby, shirtless with a pair of jeans on as he chatted with a producer about the scene. It was dark outside, and the night was dreamy.

The director called action and Timmy climbed on top of you, kissing you upon contact. The directions were to make out and touch each other all over, with some dry humping on his part.

It felt so good being under the weight of him. His lips were soft and gentle, but he devoured you like he was starving. Timmy nestled between your legs. The only barrier keeping him from you was your thin panties you had on underneath your skirt.

His crotch grazed against you over and over as the scene progressed. He moaned, but it was just acting. He grabbed your ass, and groped your boobs.

Your body tensed up. His actions and his sounds were consuming you. You were soaking your panties.

Timmy’s soft hair brushed your cheek as he kissed and nipped at your neck. You felt the wetness of his mouth, his warm breath, and his teeth ever so gently on your throat. He squeezed your thigh, and that was it.

Your hips stirred and you moaned, but it was real. “Oh, Timmy.” you whimpered softly, only for him to hear.

It was then that he looked at you, breaking character himself, and he realized what happened. It was real for you. He made you come without evening knowing. You moaned his name, not the name of the character he was playing.

“Cut!” called the director, “That was great guys. Let’s move on.”

You rested against the throw pillow under your head, and you steadied your breathing.

Timmy stayed still for a second, his hands rested on your hips.

You looked down and saw that he had a hard-on under his jeans.

Without saying a word, he got up and walked directly off the set.

………

Later, there was a dinner for the cast and crew. You and Timmy sat together as usual, as you had become friends since working on the movie together. But it was awkward between you now. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was.

He was very quiet, and fidgety, nothing like himself. He didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Especially you. You were so disappointed, so scared that you ruined everything. Fucking hormones. Fucking feelings.

You decided to try to give him a compliment, to break the ice. “You were great today, by the way. You always do an amazing job, Timmy.”

“Oh, I can kiss? Thanks.” Timmy snarled in sarcasm. He finished eating and off he went again.

His remark left you feeling even more uncomfortable than before, and you really wanted to make things right. You took it upon yourself to go find him in his dressing room and talk this out.

You knocked on his door, “Timmy? I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Let’s talk.” you begged.

You stood there a moment and just as you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer, the door opened.

“Hey.” you said, “Can we just pretend that what happened earlier didn’t happen?”

He shook his head, “No, y/n, we can’t.” he answered sharply.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself. But I thought we were friends. I was hoping we could look passed this."

“Well, it’s hard to be friends with someone after they give you a boner, and then all you can think about is fucking their brains out.” his eyes flicked up at you.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you into the room. His mouth was on yours before he slammed the door shut. It was a strange contrast to how he was in the scene. His lips were acting fast and harsh, "Take off your clothes." he ordered, his low voice hardly resembled his natural tone.

Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him. You'd do anything he said. He let you go so he could lock the door and you began to undress like he told you to.

Once you were down to your bra and panties, he shoved you against a table, "You're still wearing the underwear you came inside of earlier?" In one movement, he unclasped your bra and pulled it off of you.

You let out a huff as he shoved you face down on the table. You whimpered as you felt the coldness of it on your nipples. You placed your hands on the tabletop, and your cheek rested on it.

"Little slut wants to be fucked by me so bad." he grumbled, yanking your panties down.

The air was cold on your soaked pussy. You shuddered at the sensation.

"Holy shit." Timmy said under his breath, he touched your clit, letting his fingers run along your labia.

You gasped as he entered a finger into your sensitive hole, "Fuck." you muttered. You shifted on your feet, feeling so needy, and so dirty.

"You're so desperate. So pathetic." he spat. He shoved in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you. A light smacking sound hit the air between you and him. He rubbed your clit softly, achingly slowly. He did it to tease you, to edge you, you knew it.

You'd take his insults, or whatever abuse he wanted to heed against you. You wanted him so badly. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your ass. His fingers were removed from you, and without warning, the palm of his hand came down fiercely on your ass cheek, leaving a stinging pain on your skin.

As you cried in ecstasy, you heard his zipper come undone, and he shoved his cock into you in a matter of seconds.

"I'll fuck you like the needy little whore you are." he growled, pumping his hips into you, his waist slapping your ass loudly.

You moaned and muttered small cries of pleasure. Once his fingers met your clit, as his cock rammed you, it was just a minute before you came. Your legs grew weak, but he held you up. You had no choice but to keep yourself on your feet.

Timmy grabbed a handful of your hair, he didn't pull, but he got you to raise up some. You looked ahead of you, seeing a mirror. Oh god, you could watch him fuck you!

You saw your own reflection as well, your hair was madly disheveled, your skin flushed with color, as well as the skin of your lover. Timmy let out an exhale, and you noticed some sweat on his neck. He didn't look into the mirror; his eyes were fixed on you. He'd alternate between fucking you roughly, and then giving you shallow pumps of his cock. He gave little tugs on your hair, but not enough to really hurt. He was being playful.

He smacked your ass again. The muscles in his torso flexing and bulging as he rocked into you. You felt like you were watching porn, but it was you that he was fucking, so you felt all the effects. It was incredible.

He pulled you closer, your back against his chest now. He let go of your hair and placed his hand on your throat. He pulled you into a kiss. Soft pumps into you now, but he was hitting you deep.

"mmm." you moaned into his mouth.

Timmy slipped his tongue in, letting it roll with yours in a heated French kiss. He palmed each of your tits roughly and nibbled on your bottom lip.

He pulled away from you after a moment, his hands left you, but his cock remained in your pussy. He tapped your hips lightly with his fingers, saying, "Fuck me, y/n."

You then used the little amount of strength you had left to throw your ass back against him. You whimpered loudly as his cock railed your insides. Your butt cheeks slapped his waistline, and you heard him chuckle lowly in satisfaction. He held your hips and started to pull you to him with each of your thrusts.

"Ah fuck, so good." he praised.

You weren't sure what turned you on more: his insults or encouragement.

His fingers met your lips, and you opened them. He wet his fingertips with your spit, then slid his fingers down the front of your body to find your clit again. You couldn't keep moving, so he took over for you, ramming his cock into you as he rubbed your clit. Your body shook with overstimulation, and you came again.

Timmy pulled his cock out of you, and turned you around, and put you on the table. He jerked his cock for a few seconds before his cum busted out in several ropes.

You gasped as his creamy seed collected into tiny puddles on your abdomen. You relaxed against the flatness of the table, trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high.

Timmy muttered some curse words under his breath before leaning over you, his hand planted right next to your head. He smirked and kissed you, moaning onto your lips.

He then walked over and picked up a t-shirt from somewhere in the room and tossed it on you.

You used the shirt to clean up his mess, and you heard the flick of a lighter. You looked over to him and watched as he lit a cigarette.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back as he inhaled. He blew out the smoke and opened his eyes, catching your gaze.

"Those are bad for you, ya know." you said as you sat up on the table. You couldn't help but smirk at him as you thought about what had just occurred in the dressing room.

"I think you're worse for me." he joked, grinning as he took another drag.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

A Drunken Kiss - Drew Starkey Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Drew x Actress (female costar)

⭐ republished ⭐

🪄 warning: language and heavy petting/fluffy, mentions of smut

📖 Drew and Actress (reader) on their way to the Loewe Fashion Show 2024

Odessa mentioned at the beginning | unedited

860 words

Reader’s POV:

You avoid eye contact with Drew, trying to forget what happened the night before. A drunken kiss was shared in a Paris bar, a messy make-out on the cab ride home, fizzling out when Drew got a call from Odessa.

It was hard to forget, though, so fucking hard to forget his soft lips against yours, the warmth of his body so close, his rich cologne engulfing you. The last time you were that close, it was a sex scene, all fake, but there was something about it that felt so real. It was just a spark that caught fire and never went out.

Drew swore up and down that Odessa was just a friend, but in your drunken state, emotions ran high. The two of you agreed to “act like it never happened.” Right…

You dig through your clutch, pulling out a lip oil, gliding it along your lips as you try to remain as normal as possible in your shared car. Drew’s gaze follows you closely, watching as it shimmers on your lips, wetting his own, making your heart flutter.

“We uh… umm.” He tries gently, his light blue eyes catching yours as he stumbles over his words. “Should we talk about last night?”

You clear the lump in your throat, trying to keep your feelings in check once again. “You said to act like it never happened, Drew,” you sough, your voice coming out a little weaker than you hoped.

“I never said that,” he reacts quickly. “I mean I did. But, I just agreed with you. You know? I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I knew what I was doing.” He fiddles nervously with his ring; his knee bouncing quickly.

“And, what was that exactly?” You ask to suppress your surprise over his admittance.

“I was making my move and taking a chance with you. I’ve been thinking about it since filming wrapped,” he smiles.

“Me too,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks blush.

“You felt it, too. Huh?” He reacts with a boyish charm as he leans in slowly, your body pulling you near as well.

“I did. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it too.”

“Wow… Holy shit. Well, I’m sorry about last night. I was wasted. Instead of actin’ like I didn’t know what I wanted, I should have just told you what I wanted.”

“We both got a little drunk,” you chuckle.

“A little?” He questions, throwing his voice slightly, breaking the tension even more.

“Just a little. I could have said something too…”

His large hand rests on your bare thigh, squeezing you while his body moves closer. “Should we try again?” He asks, his voice cracking with nervousness. Drew’s breathing quickens, just as excited and shy as you, his lips hovering mere inches from your own. His hand works up your arm, wrapping around the back of your neck. Drew’s mouth presses against yours, taking your breath away, just like it did the night before. “Co’mere,” he mumbles, unbuckling your seat for you, pulling you onto his lap, holding you tighter as the vehicle switches lanes. He chuckles against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

You both share breath, feeding off of each other’s energy. Sheer want drives your lips together again. Your kiss is divine, hungry, and breathless. That same kiss you share during filming is even more intimate now that the only eyes on you are his in the closed-off back seat. Drew grabs your hips, driving you closer. You can feel the chill of your wetness as your panties graze his belt buckle, making you moan softly into your kiss. Drew smiles against your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, lips brushing against yours.

“So are you, Drew,” you sigh, meaning every word: his smell, his touch, his kiss, your name leaving his lips.

His rough hands work lower. You grab your dress, hiking it up on your hips. “Fuck,“ Drew groans, dragging out the word as his hands meet your body again, silk exchanged for skin.

Drew’s touch softens. His hands palm your curves, circling your ass slowly. Why did he slow down? “I’m not gonna break, Drew,” you whisper against his lips.

“I know.”

“You slowed down…”

“I’m just enjoying myself. Can you blame me?” He squeezes your ass tightly. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too… We’re almost there,” you pout between kisses. He moves your jaw, working his way to your neck, sucking lightly. You feel yourself start to pulse. Your hands fall slowly down his lined sweater, working lower and lower.

“Y/n… Shittt,” he breathes against your skin as your fingers graze over the top of his jeans; his cock, rock-hard underneath, making him suck in a breath.

“Drew,” you pant against his lips as your fingers continue to outline his length, working down his thigh. His hands skim higher, pinching your lace thong between his fingers.

“Tonight,” he hums as the venue comes into view, his voice dark and deep. You can feel his cock through his denim, stiff against your pussy. Rolling slowly, you work yourself against him. His fingers dig deeper, lips parting. Drew’s eyes flick up to yours, a devilish look on his stare. “Babygirl… M’gonna ask you again. Tonight?” He teases, using a pet name that has your mind spinning, making you giggle dizzily.

“Tonight.”

[owlwithanapple]

The Bat with love❤️‍🔥👄

Content : Kissing/Romance/Before in love…

Characters : Bruce Wayne x Y/N

The Chapter of Bruce Wayne reveal his face in front of Y/N.

You were so satisfied with the book signing and sales of your new work. Even Bruce Wayne himself came to scene and take photos with you. Today, you in a particularly good mood. You took out a bottle of good wine celebrate for yourself. You took a glass and poured some wine into it. Turned on the music to make the room full of life. Took the glass and poured the wine into your mouth, drinking it over and over again until you drunk. The feeling of being tipsy after drinking is really fascinating. You fell on the bed and stared at the ceiling in a daze.

You are already drunk and unable to extricate yourself and mind is blurred. With blurry eyes, you see the figure of someone standing by the bed. You vaguely see the person is Batman, the hero of Gotham City. What's going on today? So many surprises. You drunkenly pointed at him and said a bunch of messy words like a silly girl, "Batman~ Good things happened today~ I'm so fucking proud~ That Bruce Wayne is actually my fan~"

"Then?" His voice was so low and quiet.

"And then that was all~ Haha~ I just wanted talk to you~" You couldn't drink much because easy get drunk just a few drinks. The feeling of being tipsy and the heat rising in your body so fucking wonderful. When you wanted to continue talking nonsense, your sweet lips were touched by a surprise kiss. The surprise kiss was a gift from Batman. You held his face looked at him affectionately from a close distance. He didn't avoid your sight and touch, and a ripple of smile appeared on your face.

"Bad boy~ What do you mean by kissing me~" You are so drunk can't take back the silly smile on face. Your fingers stroke his face to his sexy lips. A warm passion hits you and gently rub his lips. The quiet room allows you to hear heartbeat and breathing. You don't understand why he wants to kiss you, but you just want to put your lips on his charming lips again.

He kissed the fingers on his lips again as if to seduce you. How drunk are you? How can the feeling on your body be so real? Until now, you still can't believe the scene in front of you. Are you expecting something from him? He moves closer to you and you move your fingers away from his lips. What a real, beautiful, false and pure feeling. The drunken feeling ignites the hot passion and lust in your heart, which has overflowed in your heart.

You looked at him in a daze. His face was covered so couldn't see, but he had sexy lips. You flirted and asked, "What would you do if I kissed you?"

"You can try it." He said indifferently.

You pull his face closer and pecked his lips. You pulled back and laughed like it was a joke. When you thought it was over, he kissed you agai without hesitation. You closed your eyes make yourself enjoy the kiss he brought more. You hugged his neck to make your kiss sweeter and more intimate. The charm of his male hormones attracted you, his tall and strong figure really fascinated you.

After he left your lips, you stared at him and smiled, "Your lips are so sweet."

"Hmph." He just hummed and nothing more.

You couldn't resist the temptation he brought. Every cell in body was dominated by him. A few simple kisses enough to make your heart beat. How long have you not felt this way? The drunken feeling plus his mysterious temptation made you extremely excited and fascinated. You never experienced such a mysterious and romantic experience, and never longed for a man so much. Even not love, at least can bring you a collision of intense pleasure.

"Batman~ Do you like me~ Hahaha~" You hugged his neck and talked nonsense like a spoiled child.

Without saying a word, he picked you up with his strong hands. He took out the grapple gun aimed at the distant direction shot it taking you away with him. You closed your eyes and buried your head in his chest. The two of you landed in a high place. He saw you leaning on his chest and breathing quietly. He stroked your soft and cute face, you opened your confused eyes and looked at him with a little touch.

You held his face asked hazily, "Bat bat batman～Where are you taking me?"

"A quiet place." His eyes were still looking at you.

You lean on him with peace of mind, and he holds you in arms. At this moment, the two of you have nothing to say just leaning on each other. You feel completely safe because of his uniqueness. He wears a mask but smiles at the corners of his mouth. The night wind in Gotham City is cool and pleasant, his cloak covers you to prevent from catching a cold. He is serious but graceful. Fortunately, you have the courage to stay by his side now because of drunkenness.

You run your fingers from his mask down to his lips and then touch it, hinting to him that you want a kiss from him "Hey~ Batman~ Are you sweet?~"

He grabbed your wrist didn't let your hand leave his lips. He kissed your fingers then your wrist until your arm went up bit by bit. He was exploring your body step by step, finally stopped when got close to your face. You felt his breath on your face. When you thought he was going to kiss you again, he stopped and a smile appeared on his lips. "You are so beautiful and charming when you are drunk."

His sweet love words made you irresistible. You smiled foolishly for a while and took the initiative to get closer to him. You were almost kissing him. "I am always charming~ You just don't see it~"

"Hmph." He just sighed and looked away.

You put your hand on his face again turn him to look at you. You don't want to wait quietly like this. You want his embrace and warmth. You two have kissed each other's lips countless times. The atmosphere has been lingering in ambiguity. You two don't say much love words just enjoy the pleasure brought by the intimate contact at the moment. The unclear relationship is puzzling and fascinating. You two accept this ambiguous relationship and give up a love that truly belongs to you.

"Batman~Are you my admirer~" With the courage brought by the wine, you pursue the love in his heart more boldly.

After saying this, his attitude changed, his eyes stayed on your lips more firmly. Although you were in a state of sensory confusion, you could feel the hand holding you tightened. The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck and hugged him. You swallowed the saliva in your mouth looked at him. You selfishly wanted to get more from him, whether it was love or friendship, people were so greedy that they wanted to have everything with a little hope.

"Yes. I am. It's you who fascinated me so much until I can't fall asleep." Don't know if it's true or not, just know this sentence touched your heart. You didn't care about so much, you took the initiative to leave a deep mark on his lips. He responded to your emotional appeal with a deep kiss, his sweet and sexy kiss was simply beautiful. But the good times didn't last long, the drunken feeling made you feel sleepy and couldn't stand it. You indulged in his passionate embrace and kiss until you fell asleep.

After he left your lips, he left a sweet kiss on your forehead before caressing your face "Wait for me, I will definitely hold you in my arms. Have a good dream, my love."

Around ten o'clock in the morning -

You woke up from a beautiful dream full of love, and the sunlight outside seemed so warm in the room. You stroked your head found you were not feeling the discomfort after drinking. Got out of bed and saw a silver-black Batarang stuck on the table. It was one of Batman's weapons. You covered your face in shock. You doubted whether the beautiful dream yesterday was true. You picked up the weapon stuck on the table and it was real.

Suddenly phone rang, you answered the call in panic and nervously. The voice of your assistant came from inside, "Ms. Y/N, you are already an hour and a half late, when you come to work?"

You looked at the clock on the wall. The dream was so damn good that you slept late. "Fuck, I'll be there in a minute."

"Hurry up, someone waiting in studio for you more than an hour."

"Who the hell?!" She hung up before you could even ask.

Various strange and unexpected phenomena happened one after another. You thought about the Batarang in your hand for a long time couldn't figure it out. You no choice but to wait for Batman to appear for a clear explanation. You hurriedly took off clothes ran into the bathroom to wash body before going out. Damn, you are late. Now have to go to the studio quickly. Don’t know which unknown person waiting for you for more than an hour. You passed by a coffee shop on the way and bought something as apology.

After a while, you finally arrived at the door of the studio. You noticed a dark black car outside the studio but didn’t pay much attention to it. You were holding a bag with three cups of hot coffee in your hand. You stood outside the door take a breath and calm down before opening the door. As soon as you stepped in, your assistant rushed towards you, and you were so scared that almost couldn’t hold the things in hand.

"You're finally here! I thought you were dead!" Your assistant nags at you.

You hand her the coffee, "Okay, okay, this is for you, shut up. I'll take care of the rest, in my office?"

She takes a sip of coffee to calm down and nods like crazy, you a little nervous who that person is. After your assistant leaves, you stand front door of the office, hands are shaking but still turn the doorknob and walk in. You see a man sitting on a chair with his back to you, he has a tall and strong body, a closer look reveals the watch on his hand is a super expensive model. You walk to the desk put the coffee down, then walk to him and apologize to him, when you see his face, it was Bruce Wayne.

"Mr. Wayne? Why are you here?" You a little nervous.

He has a confident smile on face. "I came to see you. Can I take up your time to talk for a few minutes?"

You nodded immediately and handed him the coffee then sat down. "Of course. You can call me directly... Don't have to wait for me to waste precious time."

He took a sip of coffee and smiled at you. "I am happy to."

You are a little confused but smiled. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about you." He put down the coffee and clenched his hands.

You pointed at your face. "Me? What can I talk about?"

"I want know you. For example, what do you like to do, what flowers do you like, or... something else... I want to know more about you." He smiled proudly.

You exhaled, something didn't understand again. You straightened your back with a calm attitude. "Is this a work-related issue?"

He shook his head and smiled, "I didn't say about business."

You were even more confused. You crossed your hands under chest and leaned back in the chair, "I'm boring and not to your taste."

He took the coffee from your hand and put it to his mouth to drink. You stood up looked at him with a shocked and shy expression. He took a sip and licked his lips, which made you feel tempted. He pulled you to sit on his lap. You wanted to stand up but he held you tightly, with no intention of letting go. He returned your coffee to you, you held it carefully. Your face was very close to his, he felt very satisfied with your nervous and shy look, a smirk hung on his face to express his satisfaction.

He licked his lips and grinned, "Coffee is sweet."

You clearly ordered espresso, how can it be sweet? You take a sip and it tastes bitter. Wait, he drank your coffee before, now you drink it too, and you two are kissing indirectly. You understand his intention, he is trying to tease your heart in a sentimental way, "Mr. Wayne, you have a bad taste~ How can you taste sweet coffee?"

"Because it's yours." He said in a flirtatious tone.

"You haven't tasted my sweetness." You put the coffee aside, put one hand on his shoulder, and gently pulled his tie with the other hand.

He moved his hand on your waist a little bit, and moved other free hand to your chin pull you closer, "I've tried it, many times, addictive sweetness."

You grabbed his hand on your chin, every word he said was ambiguous and passionate. You asked curiously, "Have you tried it? When?"

"Several nights." He said.

You got close to his face and looked at the handsome and charming face. "I spent the night with you? Why don't I remember which night?"

"Is my Batarang on the table at your house?"

You covered your mouth with hands in shock, and forgot to blink your eyes. "You... fuck..."

His and Batman's figures kept appearing in mind, with no similarities but full of same charm. Everything in this world is always unpredictable and can't imagine it, including who this man in front of you is. You stood up and took a few steps back. It was really hard to believe they were the same person. Bruce Wayne, the person you admired very much in career. Batman, who stood up to protect you when you were in danger, were the same person.

As many nights when alone with Batman as there were times of love. The number of times you two kissed, how deep and how long the kissed, were deeply imprinted in your mind and unforgettable memories. You once told yourself it didn't matter just a vague comfort in the relationship, your heart had already been completely taken away by Batman.

You took a few steps back leaned against the table and fell into a blank, your heartbeat accelerated and lost the motivation to think. You recalled every memory had Bruce Wayne's figure, it was his lips kissing you, his hands holding you tightly, his calm personality made you like him, you couldn't look directly at him and chose to turn your back to him.

You heard the sound of chair moving, and stood behind you. He wrote his phone number on a piece of paper and put on the table, "I'll wait for you."

He left your office after leaving this sentence, his back was a little sad and lost. You held the paper tightly and thought about what to do in your mind. You no longer hesitated took the paper and chased after him. You saw his car was about to drive away, you rushed over block his car. He immediately stopped and got out quickly, you walked in front of him and returned the note to him. You said chokingly, "I want to see him, my room."

Late at night -

You curled up in the corner of the room, looking out the window never saw him appear. A trace of sleepiness came over you, and slowly closed your eyes. Perhaps you were too tired to think about too many things today. After a while, you felt someone touching your hair, you opened eyes see it was Batman in your room. But this time he took off his mask in front of you, and finally saw his true face, it was really Bruce Wayne. He gently stroked your face with his hand, as if waiting for your response.

"Hey, it's really you." You stare at him, enjoying being touched by him.

You see him approaching, you close your eyes and let him kiss your forehead. "It's me. I am Bruce Wayne, and I am also Batman."

"Why me?" You are calm and expectant.

"Love at first sight." His answer so clear and concise.

How many kisses have made you two more obsessed with each other, how many words can fill each other's hearts, you look at him with a smile "So? What do you want?"

"Do you want have a passionate love with me? Not as Bruce Wayne and Batman, but as my everything."

You pulled him over gave him a kiss on the lips, he held your face and responded with a deep kiss. You put your arms around his neck sat on his thighs, welcoming every kiss of his passionately and romantically. Even can't breathe, you want to keep kissing him, his sweet lips are so irresistible. He stroked his hand from your back down to your hips. You took the initiative put his hand on your thigh till reaching for your private parts.

Suddenly his communicator rang, and heard Nightwing's call for help. In desperation, he had to choose to rescue, you got out of bed, opened the window and stood aside. After he put on the mask, looked at you again, you laughing at his speechless expression, "It seems to taste the sweetness, you have to wait~"

He hugged you and said, "You haven't given me an answer yet."

You smiled with a naughty and cute look, "You already knew the answer."

"I want to hear it from you."

You put hands on his chest stood on your feet, leaving a sweet kiss and licking his lips, "Let's talk about it next time, Batman~"

He kissed your cheek and moved slowly until he licked your neck, making you moan shyly. This feeling was fucking addictive. He left kiss marks on you and kissed it deeply. The love between two of you gradually deepened, no longer expressed with a little kiss. It has entered a deeper realm, only the two of you deserve such a passionate feeling. "Remember to close the window." He left after leaving this sentence.

You stroked the kiss marks and saliva he left, many beautiful scenes emerged in your mind. You leaned on the window looked at his back as he left. How strong he was. You were intoxicated by the love and pleasure given by Batman, but combined with Bruce Wayne. He said the passionate love indeed worth looking forward to. But it seemed boring to accept his love directly. Or you had to play with him for a few rounds of romantic time. Recalling the beautiful moments, you felt extremely shy, both sides of cheeks felt hot.

—The End—

🖤Like and Reblog to motivate me🖤

AO3 Heroes In Love by owlwithanapple

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Three: The Long Night

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's note: Thank you for the warm reception to the first two chapters! We're about to go 0-100 real quick, so hold onto your butts. This is also the longest chapter of the story, hence the title of "The Long Night". It's around 10k words. ୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨ A few lines stuck with me while writing this chapter from the song Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain:

“And if you hate me. Please don’t tell me. Just let the lights bleed all over me.” - Ethel Cain, Gibson Girl.

Chapter Warnings: Aegon window scene, emotional abuse of a child, if the reader has zero lovers haters Aemond is dead, COCSA.

The afternoon air was refreshing to the eldest son of the king, the sun warming the ruddy skin of his cock as he stroked it to total hardness. As Aegon grew older, the more the days seemed to drag on in an endless loop of mind-numbing misery. Duties, lessons, and more raging from his mother on the importance of said responsibilities until the time all muddled into one continuous circle. Wine, cuffing Aemond, and fucking his prick raw seemed to be the only things that could bring him out of this dull, never-ending cycle. 

Each day, Aegon discovered a new object that made his member pulse with a flush of blood. It was part of what made it so distracting. One day, a young serving girl with exceptionally long legs caught the prince’s eye. Her quickly shifted gaze did not deter him in the slightest. The next was the thrill of danger, each time seeking completion at new depths of peril. Once atop his mighty dragon Sunfyre, his pink membrane wings sparkling against the white clouds as he rutted against his saddle, and another, at where he found it the easiest, perched atop his window ledge, stark naked as the day he was born. The threat of being discovered always sent a thrill down his spine and straight to his stones. 

Most recently, much to his chagrin, Aegon had discovered you, his sweet, albeit annoying niece, was the object of his desires as you ate an overly ripe strawberry. The pink juice dribbled down your fingers and chin, staining your lips red. He felt disgusted with himself at the time. You were his niece! This bothersome little urchin who followed his heels like a duckling, yet he attended luncheons with you, Jace, and that other one.

At first, he thought that maybe it was not you that caused his body to have that primal response but the object itself. It couldn’t possibly be you. However, after much trial and error, at one point attempting to have an intimate time with a fruit, he found the reason. Aegon soon discovered that after spending several meals with you, intently observing how you sucked the leftover yellow-orange meat from a peach pit, it was��you he was aroused by, the way your tongue moved to lick the sticky saccharine liquid from your digits and thus became his ritual.

He would attend lunch with you and your brothers as that was the only meal you ate alone, observing how you consumed creamy puddings that he snuck from the kitchens, supplying fruits that would squirt their nectar onto your skin when you bit into them. It would send a thrumming inside his bones as he watched you chew, a simple act that no other maiden could seem to replicate. Aegon would wipe away the stickiness from your flesh with the swipe of his moistened thumb, feeling his stomach tense at the contact and dipping back into his mouth to gather more as you innocently giggled and swatted his hands away.

Then, when the meal would end, the prince would find himself in his room as he was now, clothes thrown about the area as he stroked his cock within the ledge of the windowsill, the images of you devouring the foods he gave you playing in his mind’s eye. And the best part, the detail that sent Aegon frequently rutting into his fist at all moments of the day, was that you didn’t know any better. You perceived it as your Uncle being kind, and you were eager to receive praise or attention from the person you admire.

What you didn’t understand wouldn’t hurt you, he reasoned.

Aegon was almost there. He could feel it, sense the impending release he had stored since lunch as he spat on his cock, pinching the ruddy head to stave it off just a moment more. It wouldn’t be long now. He could hear the bells that signaled the new hour in the distance. His stomach tensed, digits curling into a stone pillar for purchase as he released a gasp of your name through gritted teeth. 

“Whose idea was it?” Alicent’s voice rang out to the sound of the bell tower, throwing him from his fantasy as he stumbled off the ledge and onto his mattress, knocking his cup of Arbor Red out of the window. She repeated her question once more, disregarding the state of undress in which she had discovered her child. 

Aegon was embarrassed and disheveled, minding reeling as he struggled to catch his breath and understand her question. It annoyed him that he was cut off abruptly as if his mother had no regard for her eldest son’s privacy. 

“Whose idea was it? The pig. Was it your plot?” Alicent interrogated, ringed fingers clasped over her abdomen as her dark brows drew together in a scowl. 

It took a moment for Aegon to come to his senses as he brushed unruly strands of his curly blonde hair from his face, covering his exposed parts with his bedsheets. “No. It was Jace and uh… ” he stammered, picturing the other curly-mop-headed boy he could never remember the name of. 

What was it? Lorgan? Leander?  

It didn’t matter. Aegon couldn’t keep up with the children his half-sister popped out. Every day, a new babe seemed to cry in the Red Keep. “The-the other one, not the girl. I can’t be sure,” he eventually answered, squinting his eyes as he stared towards his mother.

“Aemond is your brother,” she sharply reasoned, disappointedly shaking her head and taking steps toward her slouched son. 

“Well, he’s a twat ,” Aegon childishly countered as frustration welled up at having his release stolen from him. He couldn’t believe she showed such nonchalance seeing his boyish body, let alone him being bare as the day he was born as he stroked himself to completion. 

“We are family,” Alicent lectured, brown eyes flicking across her son’s pale face. “You may cuff him about as you wish at home, but in the world we defend our own.” 

“It was funny,” the prince sighed with a shrug and realized his defense was weak. It was only a joke. It wasn’t Aegon’s fault that Aemond was such an odd, fragile little boy who couldn’t take his teasing. This would make him less of a bore to be around.

“Do you think Rhaenyra’s sons will be your playthings forever? As things stand…,” she continued with her velvet voice, her grave tone rumbling in her chest. “Rhaenyra will ascend the iron throne and either her daughter, or Jacaerys will be her heir.”

Aegon shrugged his sinewy shoulders, an expression of indifference on his pale face. He knew this already. He knew this when he couldn’t think and did not understand the importance of the sudden lesson in inheritance. “So?”

The Queen groaned, nearly at her wit’s end, as she looked at the Seven above for guidance in dealing with her incompetent son, fists clenching. 

“You are nearly a man grown. How is it that you can be so shortsighted?” Alicent finally became level with her son, kneeling on the filthy mattress and rumpled sheets. She needed him to listen and hear the seriousness of the future for him, his siblings, and his potential children’s lives would be threatened should his half-sister become Queen. “If Rhaenyra comes into power, your very life could be forfeited. Aemond’s as well. She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession.” 

Aegon’s jaw trembled, lips twitching into a pout as his nose burned. His mother was so frightening when she was mad that he couldn’t help but feel like a child again. “Then I won’t challenge-” 

Faster than the prince could blink, Alicent’s digits pinched his pale cheeks together, startling him into submission as his brows scrunched in pain.

“You are the challenge, Aegon! Simply by living and breathing!” she shouted, words rattling in her throat. 

Silence hung thick between mother and son, a sense of catastrophe burrowing itself into Aegon’s heart as tears threatened to spill. He would not cry . He refused to cry in front of his mother as she screamed into his very soul that his half-sister would murder him and his brother when she became queen. The prince still did not believe it. She wouldn’t do it if he did not stand in Rhaenyra’s way. Kinslaying was the greatest crime one could commit in the eyes of the law and the divine. She would never. 

“You are the king’s firstborn son,” Alicent continued, squeezing Aegon tighter as she moved to smack his chest with her words, “and what they know and everyone in the realm knows in their blood and in their bones, is that one day you will be our king.” 

The Queen stared into his frightened eyes, which flicked over her like a rabbit cornered by a fox. Realizing the severity of her outburst as guilt washed over her, Alicent stroked her son’s untamed hair, a brief halfhearted smile on her plump lips, as she spoke to him with a sudden reserved tranquility that chilled Aegon. 

“I aim to propose a match between you and her eldest as an attempt at peace in the following days. She already offered Jacaerys to Helaena, but if Rhaenyra sees reason as you think her to have, she will have no option but to accept.” The Queen leaned onto her haunches as she swallowed, her mouth feeling of cotton as she looked anywhere but at her fearful son. “Seeing as you are smitten with the only good thing that has yet to emerge from Rhaenyra’s continued indecency, you will have no objections. Get dressed .” 

The eldest Prince struggled to steady his breathing as his mother left, heart beating as if he was plummeting from his window. Aegon didn’t know what to think or feel as his mother sighed profoundly and left without another word. 

He would wed his niece? Aegon thought that someone as pious as his mother would never allow a match between kin, let alone ones so close. It made no sense. She would reject one proposal only to give another of the same caliber. You and Aegon were the two eldest children and subsequent heirs, the most obvious match, yet Rhaenyra did not offer it. There must have been a reason that his mother refused to acknowledge.

It was all too much. It felt as if Aegon was lost out at sea and attempting to keep afloat, seeing landfall just out of reach as wave after wave of saltwater stung his eyes and filled his lungs until he sank into the cold and murky waters below. Aegon needed a drink to quiet his nerves and a good release, for that matter, as his eyes traveled to the colorful array of exotic fruits resting in a bowl on his nightstand. 

The evening was upon King’s Landing as you and your brothers readied for bed. A maid ran a silver ivory tooth comb through your brown hair, detangling the knots and frizz accumulated during the day. Jace and Luke prepared with their man servants in the adjoining room, the younger running across the stone floor and into your room, declaring he was not tired. You couldn’t help but giggle at Luke’s childish actions as the servant chased him onto his neatly made bed, sliding across the sheets and causing them to wrinkle.

Moments later, your mother and father entered to say their goodnights, their presence whipping your brother back into good behavior as the manservant put him into his night clothes. Your mother always came to tuck the three of you into bed, even when there was a new addition to the family. Frequently, Ser Harwin followed behind her with a regaling of stories when your father wasn’t able to do the same, but this time, he was here, and the three of you crowded into Jace’s bed as you awaited your father to tell you of his journeys this past moon. 

He retold tales of sailing throughout the Narrow Sea with his father Corlys and the squire Ser Qarl. Your father sang bits of the same shanties his crew mates did before your mother stopped him as the three of you giggled. He spoke of battling pirates with silver and gold teeth and missing limbs who tried to board his ship on a misty morning. He could barely see three paces before him due to the fog on the calm waters as enemies boarded your grandfather’s boat. He proclaimed how Ser Qarl saved his life when one of the dreadful pirates knocked your father’s torch out of his hand. 

“The world around me transformed instantly, shrouded in a gray hue. The menacing figure of the one-eyed pirate, with his glinting gold tooth, vanished from view. Anticipating the bitter bite of a blade tearing through my flesh, I braced myself for the inevitable. Amidst the deafening percussion of my adversary’s approach, I stood steadfast, poised for the final confrontation. Bereft of vision, I awaited the fatal blow, resigned to my fate. Yet, like the Warrior himself, emerging from the mist, Ser Qarl materialized and drove his sword deep into the pirate’s heart, sparing me from inevitable demise”.

As your father recounted the tale, his hands danced through the air, adding flair to every word and making you and your siblings feel like you were with him. Jace and Luke were captivated, hanging on to every detail as your father wove the story with the skill of a master storyteller. As he spoke, it felt more like a fantastical legend than a real-life experience. The mere thought of your father not returning from his daring escapades sent shivers down your spine, prompting you to intertwine your arms and absentmindedly play with the delicate strands of hair between your fingertips.

With a watchful eye, your mother sensed your anxiety and gently reassured you with a kiss on your head and comforting words. “Don’t worry, my dear. Your father won’t be embarking on another adventure for a long while. He knows that his rightful place is with his family,” your mother consoled, lightly caressing each of your dark locks while sharing a meaningful glance with your father. “Enough storytelling. It’s time for you to go to bed. There’s much to learn in tomorrow’s lessons, and none of you will skip them.”

She looked at you with raised brows, her violet eyes wide enough that you could see the pink veins decorating the white. You tightened your mouth in shame and looked away from your mother’s piercing gaze as you, Jace, and Luke muttered in unison.

“Yes, mother.” 

A deep sense of relaxation washed over you as you slid beneath the cool, smooth silk sapphire bedsheets. It had been an eventful day, and now, finally lying in bed, you released a breath. Your mother first kissed your brothers goodnight as your father did the same for you, switching between the three in your separate rooms.

“Father,” you called out softly as he walked to Jace and Luke’s room. He turned towards you, his eyes holding a mixture of weariness and unspoken understanding as you buried your flushed cheeks beneath the calm, comforting embrace of the blankets. “I cannot stand the thought of you continuing to brave the seas alongside Ser Qarl and Lord Corlys. The danger is too great.”

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The idea of your father setting sail on your grandfather’s proud ship and never returning filled you with an indescribable dread. You couldn’t fathom a world where no one would swing you around, regaling you with vivid tales of swashbuckling adventures and stirring escapades on the high seas.

As Laenor listened to your confession, a faint but genuine smile graced his features. His eyes softened as he glanced at your tiny, fidgeting feet, a clear sign of nervousness. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness toward you. Despite what others may say to him, you were his little girl. He knew that you often cared too deeply and worried too much about others, which weighed heavily on his mind. Seeing the effects of overwhelming anxiety on your petite frame heightened his concern for your well-being.

As he looked at you, he silently promised himself that he didn’t want to be the cause of your distress. With a wistful smile, he nodded and excused himself, reaching his sons. Deep down, he knew that a part of his soul belonged to the sea, but he couldn’t bring himself to share this with you.

He hoped his inner turmoil was not visible as he exited, but he knew you were astute enough to have noticed. Despite your tender age, you possessed a perceptiveness that belied your years, and Laenor couldn’t help but worry more about deceiving you than he did about his wife or mother. As he departed, he steeled himself for the impending storm of reproach from Rhaenyra upon receiving the maids’ reports about the tangled knots you had wrestled out of your hair while asleep.

Your mother’s warm and affectionate smile appeared shortly after your father’s as she settled onto the edge of the luxuriously soft feather mattress. She gently kissed your warm cheek and enveloped your small frame in a tight embrace as you responded in kind, nuzzling into her lavender-scented neck. She beamed with delight as you squeezed her tighter, pressing an extended, heartfelt kiss onto her cheek. In response, she let out a tender laugh, which quickly spread to you, causing both of you to erupt into a chorus of infectious, toothy giggles.

As you prepare to drift off into sleep, you feel the loving warmth of your mother’s heartfelt whisper. “Sleep tight, my heart. I love you.” She gently brushed her fingers down from the crown of your head, through the fabric of your soft cotton nightgown sleeve, and finally to your hand, where she gently massaged the tender skin of your palm, creating a sense of comfort and security.

As you settled into your feather pillows, your mother’s words filled your chest. “I love you too, Mama,” you replied, feeling a surge of emotion.

You could sense her watching as you nestled into your soft sheets, envisioning her gentle smile as she observed you finding comfort in your bed. Her soft sigh seemed to carry a hint of amusement as she watched you, her only daughter, wrapped in the embrace of the fabric, and it was almost as if her exhale itself held a trace of laughter.

What an endearing girl. My beautiful girl, Rhaenyra, mused as she rose to her feet. She took her time extinguishing the flickering candles one by one until only a single flame remained on the nightstand. The soft glow of the candle illuminated the room, providing a presence of solace for you, who had always been afraid of the darkness that the Red Keep brought. Though she would never admit it aloud, the princess regretted allowing Alicent to name you. She felt like an imbecile for the days after her first labor. 

Rhaenyra had a name for a girl. She had one since her mother was pregnant with her last child. You were a Targaryen, a descendant of the Conquers, and deserved to have a name like one. Alas, in a desperate attempt to create everlasting peace between the Princess and the Queen, she allowed her forgotten friend to name her daughter. An act that proved fruitless.

It was a mistake Rhaenyra would never make again as she opened the stalwart oak doors of your chambers, leaving one last expression filled with unyielding love.

You could still feel the whisper of your mother’s goodnight kisses on your face, releasing a deep sigh of relaxation as you turned beneath the elegant blankets and burrowed deeper into your soft pillows, arm tucked under your head. It took you a moment to comprehend the foreign object hidden underneath the satin-covered feathers as you grasped it with small fingers. 

You revealed a piece of parchment folded into fours underneath the candlelight and unraveled it curiously, wiping at your sleepy eyes with the back of your hand. 

It was a note from… Aegon , bewildering you beyond measure as to why he would do such a thing and how he got it in here without notifying your guard. The contents were of messy handwriting as if a chicken had written it, squinting in an attempt to decipher what almost looked like a foreign language. 

“I have a secret to tell you, niece, but you must promise that you shall tell no one, not even Jace. Follow the map I have drawn and meet me. I’ll be waiting. - Aegon”

Excitement rushed through your veins as you quickly went to your wardrobe and pulled on a midnight blue cloak. Slowly, as noiseless as possible, you crept over to the door separating you, Jace, and Luke’s room, carefully pulling it shut. You held the note in your hand as you followed your Uncle’s instructions, sliding your vanity mirror out of the blocked path he wrote out and stopping momentarily as the wooden leg scratched across the floor, ensuring your brothers did not hear. Your fingers felt along the stone wall, pushing with all your might against the innocuous slab until it gave way and a torch-lit passage emerged. 

You knew you shouldn’t be venturing out of your chambers at such a late hour, but the thrill of adventure was too enticing. Pulling the hood of your cloak over your loose hair, you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Aegon had never done something like this. He never sought you out to spend time together, let alone at such a late and secretive hour. It provided a good distraction from the worry that clung to your eyelids as you slipped down the dust-covered redstone stairs.

You heard rumors about hidden tunnels throughout Maegor’s Holdfast that he employed skilled architects and builders to construct them, and when they finished, he led them into the passages and killed every single one. When questioned about it, Maegor claimed he didn’t want rats to scuttle inside his walls . The thought sent shivers down your spine at the notion that within these very halls and alcoves could be the bones of a dozen or so men murdered in cold bold by your ancestor. 

The scuffle of shoes stole you from your mind, causing a gasp of fear to shake you as Aegon clamped his palms on your shoulders. Your Uncle cackled at having caught you unaware, sounding like a hag and flipping his unruly blonde hair back. 

“You got my note?” he asked as you nodded eagerly, showing him the parchment. “Does Jace know?”

You took a step back, brows scrunching together in offended confusion as you shook your head. Why would it matter if your brother knew? He wouldn’t tell anyone if you asked him not to. You were two halves of the same soul, bound together no matter the circumstances. 

“No, Uncle. You told me not to.” Despite wishing to do so. 

Aegon grinned, pleased with your obedience. Your submission to him was what allowed him to tolerate you. Your Uncle knew how close you and Jace were, practically joined at the hip, and even if he wanted to do something alone with one or the other, the other would always show. He was sure you would tell Jace when you felt the note underneath your pillow but was relieved nonetheless. 

As his eyes observed your attire, violet orbs flicked to your loose hair, white nightgown, and finely tailored cloak with a grimace. Aegon should have told you to dress down, seeing as he wore a tan undershirt and black trousers, but it was too late now. He would have to be extra careful. She looks common enough, he thought. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” the prince confessed, placing his hand on your back to guide you. “I know your mother is strict with your bedtime.” 

You frowned as Aegon escorted you to Seven knows where. His insinuation of such a juvenile schedule deeply wounded you. As you understood, he didn’t adhere to a bedtime enforced by Queen Alicent, which only furthered your insecurities about your place compared to your aunt and uncles.

The narrow passage was filled with the high-pitched squeaks of mice and rats, making you startle and stand on your toes with each scurry past. Despite your protest, Aegon found amusement in your discomfort and callously kicked the next rodent that darted in your path. You supposed it was his way of protecting you, but the sight of the injured creature and its harrowing screech left you with a deep sense of disgust and sadness in the pit of your stomach. 

It brought to mind a painful memory of your Uncle crushing a butterfly that you and Helaena discovered in the garden, another instance of Aegon’s unjustified cruelty that you struggled to comprehend.

Water droplets echoed in the vast expanse of the underground tunnels as you and your Uncle ventured deeper into them. You glanced at Aegon, seeking guidance, and were met with a wide grin that stretched across his face. In the dim torchlight, the sparkle of his white teeth was visible, and the sudden image of your mother flashed into your mind. You found a strange comfort in your Uncle’s resemblance to her, starkly contrasting the unease you felt around the Queen’s children.

Despite being your mother’s siblings, Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond seemed distant to her, lacking the typical bond between brother and sister. Usually, aunts and uncles were much older than their nieces and nephews, taking on a more parental role than a playmate. This dynamic blurred the line between family and friendship, making it difficult to feel at peace with them. You found yourself grappling with the contradicting ideas of respecting and listening to them as you would your mother or father while treating them as one of your companions. You did not enjoy the disturbance this caused in your heart, burying those thoughts and feelings deep down, refusing to confront or acknowledge their existence. If you did not speak it, it was not real. 

You could no longer deny your curiosity about Aegon’s plans as you trailed behind, though the uncertainty stirred excitement within you. “Where are we going, Uncle? What secret did you want to tell me?” 

Aegon didn’t hide the way he rolled his eyes in annoyance at your insistent questioning, commanding you to be patient. He gripped your hand without much choice on your part as he led you down one of the dark tunnels with jagged rocks until you came upon a corridor with winding stairs. You peered curiously as he abruptly dragged you up the stone, your shorter legs struggling to keep in time with him. 

Soon, you found yourself underneath the starless night sky, walking a few paces before Aegon in the courtyard until he abruptly yanked you back into the shadows, a guard marching across your path. You were stunned momentarily at your Uncle’s foresight, staring into his concentrated gaze in shocked admiration, confident that he had done something like this before. Holding your breath until you could no longer hear the rhythmic clank of his armor, a burst of excitement filled your veins as you released a hushed giggle, Aegon following suit. 

You arrived in the wine cellars after a few more thrilling close calls. Bottles, barrels, and casks lined the dim room from floor to ceiling as a chilly draft swiftly passed through the area. Peering questioningly at Aegon, he studied the wooden crisscross rack of the different beverages until he decided on one and pulled it out of its cubby. 

“What is that one?” you interrogated, peeking over his shoulder. He shamelessly turned to you along with the glass bottle, carelessly flipping it in his grasp. 

“Arbor Red. I thought we might have a drink to accompany us. ’Tis a favorite of mine,” Aegon replied as he picked the wax off the cork and neck. 

You observed him with interest, hesitancy beginning to creep into your mind as you pinched at the fine hairs on your forearm. “I’ve never had that before. Mama only allows me to have ciders or a sip of white wine if I cannot sleep.” 

“She isn’t here now, is she?” he jeered, removing the wax with great effort to pop the cork. “Here.” Aegon offered without choice, holding the dark purple bottle out with one hand, tipping it in your direction when you stalled. 

You nervously accepted the wine with tight lips, tentatively taking a sip as you felt the saccharine liquid burn your tongue and ears, scarlet heating your cheeks. It was treacly sweet for your liking, causing a gag of disgust to erupt from your throat as you shoved the Arbor Red back into Aegon’s grip. He laughed at your disgust and took a swig of it without a care, expelling a sigh of relief as the cool, red liquid slid down his throat. 

“That’s positively rancid!” you giggled, wiping away the remnants from your chin. “How do you drink that?”  

Aegon held the neck of the bottle in his grasp, stealing another from the rack he thought you would like as he took a long gulp. “Like that.” 

You laughed in surrender, accepting the lighter wine that he picked and stealing a small taste as it turned your blood to fire. 

Your Uncle’s next destination was the kitchens as he led you up another set of worn stairs, following his heels like an eager pup to its owner, wagging your tail. There were only a few servants in crimson robes and dresses, their smocks an off-yellow color from years of usage as they tended to their late-night duties. Aegon kept you out of sight in the darkness as he took swigs of the Arbor Red, hiding patiently like a stalking cat waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. 

When it happened, he took your wrist, expertly leading you through the multiple counters and tables, snatching a tray full of almond cakes and drying fruits as suddenly a kitchen maid appeared. The tray of prunes and oranges nearly slipped from your grasp as you jumped, swiftly recovering as Aegon grabbed your cloak and pulled you back from crashing into the servant, running at impossible speeds. The woman shouted and scolded both of you as you nearly tripped over your nightgown, bounding down the steps three at a time, laughter echoing in the halls. 

Once Aegon felt that no one was on your trail, he stopped on one of the unguarded battlements of the Holdfast, both of you laughing breathlessly as the adrenaline left your body. Placing the tray of fruits onto the ledge, you uncorked the bottle of wine Aegon chose, spilling some of the bubbly liquid. You took small sips, finally appreciating the refreshing white grape flavor as you and your Uncle snacked on the stolen goods underneath the silent moonless sky.

“My mother plans to betroth us,” Aegon declared through the quiet, making your eyes grow wide in response as you shoved a piece of powder-covered almond cake into your mouth. “She worries that when Rhaenyra comes to power, she’ll try to hurt Aemond and me because we’re boys.” 

You turned to face Aegon, licking the white dust from your lips as you stared at him in confusion. “Why would mother try to hurt you because you and Aemond are boys? You’re family.” They were your mother’s brothers and much younger at that. She would never try to hurt them for any reason at all. 

“Because the people of the realm believe only men can rule and they will do anything to ensure that I do,” he replied, bitterness laced in his tone. 

Sadness overtook your limbs as you slumped onto the ground, your woolen cloak catching on the stone. You could feel Aegon’s hopelessness as if it were your own and leaned your head onto his standing legs.

“They may believe that, but they are wrong. My mother will ascend the throne and I will after her. She will create a new order throughout Westeros and people who think that we cannot rule simply because we are girls won’t exist,” you announced with great conviction, stealing a glance as your Uncle looked over at the thousand twinkling village lights.

“You believe that you will rule after her?” Aegon questioned dispassionately, his lithe digits flicking in disregard. 

“Yes,” you replied without a thought. Your mother had not officially declared you her heir. That would only happen once your grandfather passed, a notion which brought you grief, but you knew she would choose you. After all, you were the eldest. You sighed, touching Aegon’s knee to get his attention. “Besides, you won’t challenge her. If you’re married to me, you’ll still become king.” 

“My mother wants us to marry to make you a prisoner bound in chains of false love and children– to prevent my half-sister from taking the throne when they put me on it. How can you not see that?” He turned to you swiftly, staring down at you with an intense look that struck you to your core. “My existence is opposition enough to Rhaenyra’s claim, and it seems my mother and grandfather will stop at nothing to groom me into the next heir even if it is something I do not want. Rhaenyra will stop at nothing to get you back when they do so.” 

“Queen Alicent will use me as leverage to stop my mother from taking her rightful place…” you whispered aloud as tears brimmed at your lashes. “You’ll still be king even if my mother is Queen. You’ll be married to me! Isn’t that enough?” 

Suddenly, Aegon kneeled before you, taking your shoulders harshly in his grip as his fingers burrowed into your flesh. You winced and tried to lean away, but he stopped you, his face so close you could see the fair, wispy hairs of a growing mustache above his lip. “What don’t you understand about this?” he yelled, his pale cheeks growing blushing with ire. “My mother and grandfather will put me on the throne over Rhaenyra no matter who I am married to, especially a bastard. Mother only wants for us to wed so that yours will not have the option forcefully to take her rightful place with her daughter in the way.”

“I am not a bastard!” you screamed into your Uncle’s face, tears falling freely down your cheeks as you shoved him onto the ground, nor were you your mother’s favorite. “My father is Laenor Velaryon, and my mother Rhaenyra Targaryen. I will rule the Seven Kingdoms and wear the crown of Jaehaerys like grandfather does and how my mother will!”  

Aegon groaned, head tilting to the sky in exasperation as he laid his limp hands between his legs in surrender. There was no point. You wouldn’t see reason. “Of course you are,” he sighed, sitting on his haunches. “Twas foolish of me to say otherwise. Come here and not let these treats go to waste.” 

Aemond sought solace in the library’s serene, dimly lit atmosphere during challenging moments. While he cherished his family, particularly his sister and mother, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his oldest brother exploited his loyal affection. Despite societal expectations dictating that he turn to his elder siblings for advice, Aemond often found himself shouldering Aegon’s responsibilities.

He observed how Luke frequently sought guidance and support from you and Jace when making decisions and taking action. While Luke turned to his siblings for solace following a frightening dream or when Aegon was particularly unkind, Aemond lacked this support. Instead, he assumed the role of mentor, offering guidance to his older brother and comforting his older sister during challenging times. Unintentionally, his family burdened Aemond with the responsibilities of a caregiver, parent, and older brother despite his status as the second son, with seemingly no prospects besides living in the shadow of the firstborn.

In times of turmoil and uncertainty, Aemond sought refuge in the timeless embrace of books. Their weight in his hands provided a reassuring sense of substance, their unchanging inked pages promising stability in a world of instability. The authors had already mapped out the characters’ journeys within those hallowed pages, complete with predetermined destinies and unyielding conclusions.

Immersing himself in these literary sanctuaries, Aemond would momentarily escape into realms where he could envision himself as a formidable dragonlord of Old Valyria, astride a majestic and fearsome beast, commanding the submission of his adversaries. While it was the only place where a fleeting sense of happiness fluttered within him, he hesitated to label it as true to the elusive emotion.

As the moon hung high in the sky, Aemond found himself immersed in his usual pursuit of a tome that delved into the intricacies of war strategy. Unlike his niece, he had always eschewed fanciful tales and romantic novels, who took great pleasure in playfully mocking him as “a bore.” Although he never revealed it, her words stung, and he often retorted with a feigned air of anger.

He harbored a deep-seated jealousy towards his niece and nephews, which he vehemently denied. Underneath that denial, there simmered a potent brew of hatred. Aemond’s royal lineage, as the son of a king, set him apart from them, but that fact seemed inconsequential. They were the offspring of his father’s beloved, his sole child, and the source of his utmost joy. Viserys’ grandchildren held an irreplaceable position in his world.

Training sessions were held in the courtyard, and the king’s attendance was for something other than his and Aegon’s. He was there for Luke and Jace, the sons of Rhaenyra. Whenever there was a showcase of skills to display the dancing prowess Helaena and his niece had acquired, the king’s praises were reserved solely for Rhaenyra’s daughter.

Aemond was fiercely determined to outshine his sister’s children and earn his father’s approval. He longed for acknowledgment and validation, believing he possessed talents superior to those of his nephews and niece. Jace struggled with memorizing High Valyrian glyphs, and while Aemond could speak basic sentences, Luke feared his dragon. At the same time, Aemond charged head-first into mounts that did not belong to him, and his niece’s enigmatic challenges bolstered Aemond’s confidence in his abilities.

He struggled to find any significant flaws in her that would be readily apparent to an adult. Aemond observed that her persistent need for validation, love, and recognition, coupled with a hint of arrogance, could be irritating. However, he realized that the impact of these traits as either faults or strengths depended on the recipient of her unwavering loyalty.

His niece would go to lengths for those she sought admiration from, even losing her strong sense of justice when it came to it. Aemond could recall times when she protected Helaena from Aegon’s taunts and torture, nearly breaking his nose in recompense. She was carefree and joyful, unburdened with the weight of duty and pressure he faced, but when it came to the things that mattered, she showed restraint, unlike Aegon. He felt that one day, her fierceness and unapologetic service to the ones she cared for would be her ruination, which Aemond could not wait for.

Though he loathed to admit it, a part of him yearned to inspire that same devotion in someone. Aemond would never want it from his niece. She was not her father’s child. He did not need her love, but he still craved it. Whether it be from someone he despised or not, he would take it.

Aemond’s eyes wandered across the stacked books until he stumbled upon one that piqued his interest. He carefully reached for it, feeling the rough texture of the old parchment underneath his fingertips. As he flipped through the worn pages, he caught a whiff of the distinct fragrance that only old books carried, which spoke of centuries past. Taking a moment to appreciate the weight of history in his hands, he tucked the stiff leather-bound tome under his arm. He exited the library with his index finger delicately hooked in the ring of his lit candle holder, casting flickering shadows around him. The night air enveloped him as he embarked on the journey back to his quarters, the faint aroma of the ancient book lingering in the air around him.

Though he hid it underneath an annoyed facade, Aegon was terrified. He did not want to be king, nor did he want to marry you. He did not want to marry anyone, for that matter. Yes, you were a rather attractive creature, only when you ate , and frequently, he felt less than in your presence, but you were still a silly little girl who saw things for their surface beauty and not in their entirety. You could not comprehend why his mother and grandfather would still force Aegon onto the throne even if he would wed you. 

Despite what the entire lot of you claimed, you and your brothers were bastards. You had no Velaryon features. There was no hint of your father’s dark skin or white hair. Saying that all four of Rhaenyra’s children took Rhaenys’s attributes was stretched too far for any competent person to believe. But it didn’t matter. No amount of reason from Aegon, the Queen, or the court would convince King Viserys or the rest of you where your true parentage lied, not that it mattered to him. 

Hastily, you wiped away the tears and snot of frustration, nodding timidly to Aegon’s silent apology as you shoved a dried orange into your mouth. The pair of you sat in a noiseless trance filled with the sounds of crickets and intermediate chewing, taking sips of your wine. You refused to be the one to break the quiet, seeing as you weren’t the one who caused it. You allowed Aegon to stew with the lie of calling you a bastard as the bubbly liquid dribbled past your lips. 

Your Uncle’s fingers soon wiped away the drops before they could become sticky against your skin. He tended to do it whenever you made a mess of yourself, often when you ate or drank in his presence. You giggled demurely and smiled as you watched him lick the wine from his fingers. Aegon was always so silly like that. It was rare for him to be seen without a lopsided grin on his sharp face. 

The same hand he used to remove the liquid on your chin found itself on your thigh, gradually working his thumb in circles. It startled you. Aegon never touched you without the intent to hurt or shove you somewhere as your muscles clenched, but when no blow or ridicule followed, you relaxed, resting your head on his pointy shoulder as you often did with your brother. 

You enjoyed the happiness touch could bring and often initiated it with whomever would allow you to. You wanted those you met to feel the same comfort you did and to know that you cared for them so much that actions were the only way for you to explain.

“Can I do something, niece? But it must remain our secret,” Aegon whispered into the darkness. The torches whooshing filled the air as the wind swept through the cold night air, casting eerie shadows on the ancient stone walls. The flames danced and swayed, casting a warm, golden glow illuminating your secretive conversation.

Under the obsidian moonless sky, you uttered, “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going tonight. Don’t you trust me?” Hoping to convey sincerity through your expression, you kept your plans a secret from your mother and brother. To them, you were just in bed, peacefully dreaming of riding Gaelithox across the vast lands of Westeros.

Aegon smiled and released a puff of air out of his nose, which you assumed was a laugh, as he began to bunch the skirt of your nightgown in his fist. You hadn’t a clue as to what he was doing, observing him with a curious but unworried expression as his fingers pulled back the small piece of cloth between your legs. Turning your gaze from your Uncle’s hand to his face, you peered at him peculiarly, your head tilted as you observed his concentrated expression, his breathing becoming faster. Aegon’s cheeks and ears were bright pink, beaming like a beacon in the night as you smiled. Even though his face held an intensely focused expression, you could sense satisfaction radiating from him that flowed into you. 

Aegon’s fingers didn’t feel like much as he spread the skin of your privy parts, dragging his digits up and down like he was stroking a swatch of fabric. The sensation was more foreign than anything, like learning to write for the first time. You could feel every ridge and swirl of his fingerprints against your dry skin as he suddenly dipped down into the hole between your legs. It startled you, his single digit causing a slight burn of pain as you jumped in response. 

Your Uncle’s gaze faced you, his once violet eyes now eclipsed with a black that threatened to swallow you whole. He assured you that you were fine, and you felt him move beside you, helping you stand upright, leaning your back against the battlement wall, and rucking your skirt up again. You watched as he fiddled with his breeches, an inquisitive expression pulling your brows taught as he revealed his private  part. 

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen one before. You, Jace, and Luke often bathed together with the help of your maids and Mother, but Aegon’s, his, looked different. It was a lot longer than your brother’s, a bright, rosy color standing straight out from his body, unlike the downturn of your siblings. You looked to him for an answer he refused to give, rubbing his member against yours, creating an uncomfortable, raw sensation. 

You didn’t know that those two things could touch each other. It wasn’t a thought in your mind that you could use it like your hand to grasp another, but as long as Aegon was happy, you were happy, so you allowed him to continue doing what he wanted in silence as he spat on your area. You shouted in protest at such a disgusting action, attempting to push him away, but Aegon held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to glide over his manhood. 

“Aegon, that was gross! Why did you spit on me?” you interrogated, attempting to push him away, but Aegon paid you no mind, continuing to rub himself against you in faster motions and quicker breaths. The more he moved, the more your privy area started to hurt, a burning sensation that reminded you of when you slid your knee across a floor rug after falling. It didn’t feel like nothing anymore, and soon you wanted to stop, pushing your Uncle away, but he held. 

“Aegon, you’re hurting me. Please, stop,” you commanded him. But he ignored your plea, his hand positioning his member at an angle as he pushed forward.

You screamed . 

You screamed and screamed and screamed as you shouted for Aegon to stop, a feeling as if a piece of molten metal had stabbed through you, radiating up your entire body and searing your insides. Your Uncle groaned, releasing a sigh of relief as his hands searched for something beside you. He took a fistful of plum and orange slices and shoved them into your mouth to get you to silence. He covered your lips with his palm, forcing you to chew the fruit if you wished not to choke. 

Aegon waited too long for his release, which Alicent had interrupted hours prior. He was not eager to seek out his niece unless with the purpose of gratification. You were so desperate to please him with whatever he asked of you, even if it would harm another, that Aegon found it endearing. He began to imagine a life with someone as devoted as you by his. Would he finally get the validation he desired from his mother and father? Would you allow him to pursue his lust as he wished and welcome him with dutiful arms each time? Your well-being was no longer a thought in his mind. The idea that he could finally have someone who gave him anything he desired and would never be able to leave was far too intoxicating. 

Aemond strolled beneath the crimson stone arches of the Keep, looking forward to slipping into his warm bed and immersing himself in the world of literature that awaited him. The night was serene, devoid of the moon’s glow, causing Blackwater Bay’s tides to remain calm and the air to hang motionless. It seemed like the ideal moment for reading, and he felt a revitalized spring in his stride.

As Aemond strolled past one of the stone parapets of Maegor’s Holdfast, the sounds of a soft, high-pitched voice caught his attention. It piqued his curiosity, making him ponder whether to ignore the sound or investigate. Suddenly, another voice, more urgent and resonant, joined the first. Aemond immediately recognized it as his older brother, Aegon. It seemed that he was attempting, and likely failing, to charm another maid again. Aemond sighed profoundly and glanced toward his chambers, wondering if he should intervene or retire for the evening. 

It was merely a brief stroll. Aemond could have retired to bed without concern for his older brother’s mischief. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bear the thought of disregarding the plight of the unfortunate servant girl and failing to intervene. Aemond Targaryen prided himself on his sense of honor. With each step, he could feel the weight of exhaustion and the burden of his conscience as he ascended the ancient stairs to the battlement. 

He stopped as he reached the top, finding his niece and brother in a state that would cause even the most experienced man to gasp in horror. Aemond observed how Aegon forced himself onto his younger niece, tears clumping her thick lashes and streaming down her cheeks. Shock gave way to anger as he recalled that same bleary face once jeering at his misfortune of not having a dragon, the girl who laughed at Aemond as his eldest brother gave him a pig to ride instead. 

Exhale. Inhale.

The prince remained motionless, a strange sense of eerie tranquility enveloping him. He felt nothing as he slowly retreated, the sound of the scuffle causing you to turn your head abruptly. Amidst the storm’s chaos, with no respite from Aegon’s relentless, tormenting attacks, your gaze locked with Aemond’s, the taste of your tears and ill-gotten gains mingling in the air.

Exhale. Inhale. 

You finally comprehended the significance of Septa Marlow’s teachings on ‘virtue.’ It was more than just a concept, but a tangible essence that one could embody and manifest in their actions. It represented the honor and reverence for one’s existence, acknowledging the inherent value of being alive and holding steadfast to one’s moral principles. Aegon’s actions cruelly deprived you of this intrinsic moral fiber, callously usurping the very essence of your being for his selfish gain.

Exhale. Inhale.

Aegon’s hand pressed firmly over your mouth, cutting off any pleadings as you desperately looked to Aemond for help. Aegon’s knowledge that it was wrong was evident in how he silenced you, his own set of virtues twisted and contorted into something unrecognizable by an external force.

Exhale. Inhale .

Aemond stood frozen on the staircase, one foot on the lower step and the other on the top. His bright purple eyes darted back and forth between you and Aegon. Inside his head, he couldn’t help but feel that you deserved this. He seethed with anger at all the wrongs you and your brothers had done to him. The injustices he felt burned within him—from the mistreatment of the pig to your unworthy existence, to the love and affection you received from his father, which he believed should have been his, and to your manipulation of his mother’s affections, deceiving her into seeing you as anything other than a sinful bastard.

Exhale. Inhale.

Your eyes, the teary pools of dark essence that threatened to pull him beneath it to feel your desperation and helplessness, tore into his soul and exposed his core for only you to see. Aemond was just a child, as were you, thrust into an ill-fated life before he had a name. No longer did you see your Uncle as someone who desired to hurt you but as someone who had hurt , both of you perpetuating the cycle that existed before your conception. You and Aemond were doomed to suffer unless one rose above and changed the narrative. 

Exhale. Inhale. 

“Aegon. What are you doing?” Aemond’s firm voice sounded, rising to the top step. 

His brother jumped in response, abruptly pulling away from you as you collapsed to the ground with a yelp. Aegon attempted to stuff himself back into his breeches as if that could hide what he had done. The blood on his brother’s pale skin made him unable to conceal it. 

“We… We were just having a bit of fun. Weren’t we, niece? We’re to be betrothed after all,” Aegon expressed as he steadied his breathing. “We’re simply celebrating preemptively.” 

As your eldest Uncle reached out his hand, a pleading look in his eyes conveyed a sense of desperation that might have influenced you in the past. However, this time, you met his imploring gaze with steely determination. Your breath caught in your throat as you resolutely pushed his reaching hand away, refusing to succumb to the unspoken agreement it symbolized.

Aegon turned to look at you; his expression was devastated, as if you had deeply wounded him. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips swollen from biting them, a silent attempt to contain his earlier excitement. It was the first time you had rejected his warmth in years, and it felt like you had torn his heart out. Turning his gaze to Aemond, fury replaced the emptiness in his chest as he realized that neither of you moved from your positions, causing his chin to quiver.

You were Aegon’s friend first. He could not change your mind, regardless of how desperately he wished to, and Aegon refused to subject himself to any more rejection as he pushed past Aemond and hurriedly descended the stairs, taking them three at a time, tail tucked between his legs.

You and Aemond remained in your positions for a moment after Aegon departed. As you stood there, your blue cloak draped over your shoulders and white nightgown concealing your slouched figure, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. Aemond, unsure of how to offer comfort, hesitated awkwardly. He struggled with his emotions as he silently observed you, feeling conflicted and unsettled by the situation’s intensity. He was at war with himself. 

A part of him found satisfaction in seeing you cry, a small measure of justice after enduring Aegon’s taunts for so long, but the other understood the great injustice and consequences you had endured, even if it seemed you did not. All he could do was noiselessly watch as you cried into the emptiness of the night, words of solace stuck in his throat. 

Your body hurt, sore, and trembling in places you had never felt pain before. You were so tired, so drained of life and energy that you felt as if you could sleep right here within the battlements of the Red Keep, but you knew that you would get into trouble if caught. Sneaking out and stealing wine and food from the kitchens would surely get you a reprimand from your mother, which was something you did not want. You were already in serious trouble for disobeying the Dragonkeepers and did not want to further your punishment.

With a great breath from your lungs, you wiped your tears, putting your legs underneath you and pushing yourself up. Severe pain shot through your body as you fell back to the ground with a shriek, skinning your knee. A fresh wave of sobs erupted from your chest, but you held them in and pulled your quivering limbs to stand against the wall. It felt as if you had been horseback riding for hours, your privy place sore and raw. 

Wincing as you made another step, you looked to where Aemond was, expecting him to be gone, but he was still there, gazing at you intently with a serious look on his freckled face. “I need to go to bed before someone discovers I’m gone,” you declared, wordlessly asking your Uncle to help you with your struggle. 

“You need the Maester,” Aemond countered, unmoving, eyes fixed to your feet. “You’re bleeding.” 

Quickly, you looked down to where he stared and saw your pristine white cotton nightgown stained in places with the crimson liquid of your blood. Your knees busted whenever you landed on the stone, red soaking through for all to see. 

“No,” you refused, tousled hair swaying in the wind as you shook it. “I can take care of it myself. Please, just-” Your lungs hiccuped as they tried to return to their regular pattern.  “Help me, Aemond. Please.” 

Your Uncle did not move. His expression curled into a slight grimace as you managed to stand beside him, placing a hand on his bicep. Some of you expected Aemond to walk away when you touched him, but he did not. Instead, he bristled under your damp palm and sucked in a noiseless gasp of air. 

The prince had not felt the act of a tender touch initiated without something negative associated with it since before he could remember. His mother always consoled him after being teased or Aegon guiding him to his misfortune, never just the simple act of human contact.

“What do you want me to do?” Aemond questioned, turning his stiff posture to you. 

“Don’t let me fall,” you softly commanded, a waiver to your voice. You worried Aemond would leave you if you said or did something wrong. You understood him to be very erratic around you in most situations, but you didn’t blame him for it. You were not always kind. 

Like a vision of divine benevolence, your Uncle wrapped an arm around your torso and hooked it around yours in support as he led you down to the torchlight aisles of the palace, using the shadows as cover. Worried that you could not find your way back the way you came, fresh tears sprung free. There would be no hope of hiding your disobedience from your mother if you returned to your chambers from the typical entrance, and the fear caused you to stop your shaky stride. Aemond turned his annoyed face to your frightened one, eyes wide like a fawn caught within the jaws of a wolf as you threw yourself into his embrace. You just needed someone to hold you, to cradle you like your mother did whenever you hurt yourself playing with your brothers. 

Your Uncle stiffened like the cold stone statues in Sept, under unusual affection and uncertain how to proceed. The last time you shared touch like this was in response to ridicule, and immediately, Aemond grabbed your biceps on instinct and attempted to push you away, but the broken cry you released at his rough handling caused him to pause. It was a noise that cut straight through the years of armoring his soul to the torment he suffered, making his nose burn. You were such a happy child, to the point where it irked Aemond, and to see you reduced to such a state even weaker than his after Aegon’s jests broke his hatred-covered heart. 

Perhaps it was because he now had someone else who shared his silent agony, a bond formed with tears and blood. Or because you finally understood how your actions affected those around you. A dark, twisted part of Aemond relished in your pain and hoped you were the victim of more if it meant you would come to him like this, weak and clinging to him as if he was the very air you needed to survive. 

“My mother… I-” you heaved, salty snot dribbling down into your mouth as you attempted to speak. “I can’t go back to my rooms the way I left. She’ll-she will know that I was out this late, and she’ll be upset with me!”

Aemond gazed down at you incredulously, and his upper lip curled in disbelief at how immature you were. No wonder you and Aegon got along. “Your mother will not be cross with you once you tell her what my brother did. Be reasonable,” he commanded as your cheeks glistened in the yellow glow. 

“No, no,” you shook your head vehemently, causing your dark locs to caress your Uncle’s digits and the smell of your citrus oils to waft into the thick air. It was a smell so uniquely yours, and despite Aemond aversion to such scents, he thought they weren’t as horrendous as he initially believed. “She is all ready upset with me for skipping lessons and disobeying the dragonkeepers. She’ll be furious if she finds I snuck out of my room!”

Your thoughts were like a fortress, impenetrable and infused with a heady titian aroma. You had ventured too far beyond the realms of reason, your breath quickening, leaving you feeling weightless and unsteady on your feet. Emotions surged uncontrollably within you, bubbling over like an overfilled pot of boiling water. You clawed at your neck, your face, and your scalp, leaving painful welts in your wake. The intensity was unbearable. The sight churned your Uncle’s stomach, but he couldn’t look away. You yearned to escape from this overwhelming torrent of emotions, to shed them like a second skin.

Aemond watched in paralyzed horror as you clawed at your flesh like a mange-ridden animal, with dark eyes staring a league away from reality. He had never seen something like this before, and it scared him to the bone. A rush of fear gripped him as he thought that you might dig your fingers into your skull and harm yourself. He grabbed your wrists to stop you, but your fingers yanked the roots of your hair, ripping out chunks of tangled brown. 

Aemond gasped in shock as your chest began to take gradually deep breaths, and a sudden serenity came over you, like a warm blanket in winter. An intense expression painted his shadowy countenance as he wrapped his slightly larger hands around yours, taking the clumps and tossing them aside.

“We shall go to my rooms, and we’ll tend to your scrapes,” Aemond stated in finality as you nodded swiftly, swallowing your briny spit. “We’ll need to get rid of your nightdress too. It is…”

Your Uncle could not finish his sentence, his violet eyes trailing to your slippered feet. You knew what he meant. It was covered in blood , and noiselessly, you agreed to his plan without objection as he led you by a single wrist into the barren Keep. 

This was a pact of secrecy sealed with neither words nor a handshake. It was a silent understanding born of shared anguish that you were now forever bound by eternal suffering at the hands of Aegon. Your existences doomed you and Aemond; with that, you would suffer together for eternity. 

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How is everyone after that? Are we okay?

Rape and SA is typically not done with just the intent of sexual gratification, but to have power over someone. It's for the assailant to feel in control over someone who physically or mentally could not counter them. Whether it's because they've been SAed in the past or they feel like they have no control in their lives could be a reason.

When I heard that fact it hit me close to my heart as I was molested when I was a child. I've thought for my entire life that he did it only because he was curious because he was only about 8-9 years older than me, but I realized he most likely did it to me because I was powerless against him and he knew I wanted to be "cool" like him. I was around 6-7 years old.

My personal experience with sexual assault heavily inspired the dialogue and dynamics in this chapter. (Nobody can tell me it wasn't realistic!) Unlike the reader there was no one to help stop it and help me through it. I was so young I didn't even know it was wrong at the time, and even though he went to trial and was a registered sex offender, his record was cleared when he became an adult. In fantasy and real life, crimes like this still go unpunished.

If you, or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual assault, no matter how long ago it was, please talk to someone professionally or go to the authorities if possible. You truly don't realize how it skews your view of sex, love, relationships, and trust until the damage is done and is extremely difficult to work through. I do want to mention quickly as the story progresses you will see how a single act that one perceives as minor can cause you to do things without realizing that's the real reason why.

Thank you again for reading and all the kind words. I hope I can continue to live up to your expectations. (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp , @britt-mf , @marvelescvpe , @haikyuusboringassmanager , @discofairysworld , @livcookesgf , @nessjo

[trumpkinhotboy]

honeymoon | j.b

pairing. jacob black x reader

type. requested (thank youu)

warnings. none

word count. ~ 2000

a/n. i just had a twilight marathon and uhm yeah 🧍‍♀️ my obsession with jacob black and this whole universe is very much so still alive lmao. got this request and it made me want to scream and cry and throw up because can you imagine marrying him??? RAAAH anyway, hope you all will like this mwah xx

Ever since you had said I do to the love of your life, a permanent smile illuminated your face. So much so that your cheek muscles felt sore but you wouldn't trade that pain for anything else in the world.

The reception had been everything you could have ever wished for. It was intimate, only your families had been invited, people from the tribe and a few friends. You had the wedding on the reservation, and Emily made sure the whole setup had been turned into a magical fairy ambiance and you danced the night away surrounded by your loved ones. Jacob seemed on top of the world, his eyes never leaving your face, pure adoration shining in them. When the night came to a close, your excitement only grew as you headed to your own little home. It was a project you had been working on all summer. A quaint house, built in the woods of the reservation, close to your family. It was the house of your dreams and your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of it and the future it promised you. Jacob carried you in his arms from the party, bridal style, insisting on holding up with the tradition. You crossed the threshold and stared adoringly at the scene in front of your eyes. Your friends had decorated the whole house with flowers and little presents to make sure you would feel all their love and happiness for your union.

You looked at the man holding you up like you weighed nothing, his eyes already locked on your face. The softness and intensity in his gaze made your organs quiver. "Aren’t you going to put me down?" you asked quietly.

"I'm not quite ready to let go yet," he murmured with a little grin.

"We’re married now, I really can’t escape you anymore, you know," you teased but felt his hands imperceptibly tighten on your body at your words. You smiled softly, lifting your hand to cup his warm cheek. "Not that I would ever want to." He nodded before you brought your lips to his, unable to wait any longer. You melted into him, feeling his grip tighten as you deepened the kiss while your breaths synced perfectly. You felt him start to move and hoped he would bring you to the room of your desire. When you heard the door of your bedroom open and felt him sit on the bed, you smiled in the kiss. Softly he pulled away, his breath ragged and fast.

"You okay there hubby?" he nodded with his eyelids shut tight, as if he was trying hard to focus. "Jacob, look at me." He finally opened his eyes and what you saw in them wasn’t what you expected. Fear and uncertainty tainted his gaze. In a heartbeat worry replaced your prior elation. You wiggled in his arms until you were sitting on him, straddling his legs with your wedding dress trailing down. "Is everything okay? Are- are you happy?”

The twinge of uncertainty in your voice seemed to shake him out of his previous state. "Of course I am." He trailed his hands up your arms in a reassuring motion.

"Then what’s going on?"

"I can’t believe this is real. I’m still not grasping the reality of it, I think." Your hand wandered in his short hair, softly pulling at strands of it. "But it is real," you insisted.

"I know, but this is all I've ever wanted. Never in my deepest dreams have I ever thought I could get this, that I could get you."

Ever since Jacob and you started going out he had trouble believing any of it was real. You didn't mind, you would tell and show him over and over again how much you loved him. Even if you didn't think he would still doubt your feelings or the depth of your relationship on your wedding night, you understood what he meant. Even you felt that 'pinch me' urge a few times in the night. "I’ve been in love with you since I was old enough to know what being in love means. I also have a hard time believing this is real. But it is Jake, we have our whole lives in front of ourselves and I can’t wait to do it all with you by my side."

This time he initiated the kiss, his strong hands applying soft pressure on your shoulder blades to bring you as close as possible to his body. You felt his hand on the zipper of your dress and shivered at the thought of him undoing it but he waited and looked at you for a second before you nodded your agreement. Softly, he untied your dress. You stood as he helped you step out of it, leaving you in nothing but your white lace underdress. With his eyes glued to your body, he sat there motionless. You giggled and stepped between his legs to slowly undo the bow at his neck. Once that was done, you unbuttoned his shirt, loving the way his breath accelerated with every touch of your fingers on his tan skin. You softly kissed his neck and chest as you pulled the shirt from his body, feeling your core tighten at the sight of his muscular body. You wished to kiss every inch of his plush skin and promised yourself you’d get to do it.

"I- I've never done this you know."

You stopped to look at him, "Me neither but we can figure it out together."

He nodded at that, his hand trailing the curve of your back. "Are you scared I'm going to hurt you?" He stopped the movement to bring his hands palms up on his thighs. You slid your smaller ones in his. You always loved Jacob's hands. They were strong, diligent hands. Yes, they were able to break and hurt things if needed, but these were also soft and delicate hands able to give the best and warmest caresses and hugs.

"Not even a little bit." Bringing one hand to rest on your cheek, the other to your mouth, you closed your eyes and rested in the warmth they diffused. Jacob was completely silent, hypnotized by the frenzy every touch from you started in his body. "We'll guide each other, okay?"

"We can do that,” he agreed in a hushed voice.

Big hands slid down to grip the back of your thighs, bringing your chest flush to his titled up face.

One kiss on your sternum, another on your ribs, another on your belly. Shivers danced on your skin, head lolling back as you surrendered to his touch.

[celestie0]

Are we gonna have smut in ihm soon?🤭

man it’s really fuckin disappointing and sad to spend 10 hrs out of my week to try to create a meaningful story, one that resonates a lot with me and the things i’ve been through in my life, one that i hope my readers can resonate with and see themselves in, just to get asks like this.

like, picture this. you get super excited to write this story of yours, you plan aaaaaall these secondary plot lines, introduce new characters, create different character dynamics, try to include scenes that strengthen relationships with already existing character dynamics. plan out an ENTIRE story on paper (my ideas doc ALONE for ihm has 13k+ words) and try to leave subtle clues here and there in your chapters to support a build up of tensions that’ll lead to a payoff later on in the series. oh, and this is just the planning part. did you know that it takes the average person 1-2 hrs to write 1k words? the last ihm chapter was 14.1k words. go ahead and do the math, and try to figure out how long it must’ve taken me to write it. without even counting the time spent i spent editing it.

i know that this fandom is so horny brainrot fucked up to the nines, i’ve sincerely never seen a fandom that needs to touch grass more than the jjk fandom. and admittedly, i am also super excited to write more smut in my stories! sex is fuckin cool n sexy! but let me just get one thing straight to you horny anons that send me asks like this: my stories are STORIES first and foremost. they are not VESSELS for your FANTASIES. they are not PORN with PLOT. they are my stories, that i write drawing from my real life experiences. and, hey, news flash, they mean a fuckin lot to me! i’m assuming you didn’t do the math on the 14.1k word chapter thing, but i’ll tell you right now: it took me maybe 20 hours to write ch3 of ihm. something that probs took you 1 hour to read, and then ten seconds to send me this ask. surely your tonedeaf brain can at least understand that i wouldn’t spend that much fuckin’ time writing something if it was just supposed to be porn with plot.

listen, i know that i’m not the best writer. i understand that, after reading all of this, you might be thinking “shut the fuck up bitch, your writing aint alla that for me to respect you. we only care about the smut, don’t you understand?” that’s valid. i’ll respect that. i never claimed to be a great author, or deserving of anything meaningful from you in return. ultimately, it’s my choice to spend the time that i do writing, no one’s forcing me, and i would never expect people to support me either (although i am always infinitely grateful for it and tbh the support is what keeps me writing). but what i don’t deserve is to be sent careless asks that make me feel like you see no purpose in my stories other than sex. other than smut. other than a penis going inside a fucking vagina.

anon, you know what would make me excited to continue writing my story? excited to get to the parts where characters ARE intimate with one another? is if you maybe threw in something as simple as a fuckin “hey i loved that part in ihm ch3 where [x]. thought it was a cool thing to do. btw, looking forward to the smut!” would’ve taken you a solid 30 seconds. it just took me 30 seconds to type that. or? you know what else you can do? go sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and spend 20+ hrs writing a 14k+ oneshot on the smut that you so badly wanna see. it’s your choice. really! i mean it. go be the change you wanna see in this world.

i have never once felt like i deserved any of the support that i’ve gotten. idk how to write pretty prose. or moving stories. i read some other people’s work on this app and i’m genuinely gobsmacked by how talented they are and constantly think how shitty my writing is in comparison. but my thing is that i am at least trying my best to write stories that people feel worthy of reading, because i feel like that’s the kind of respect that an audience deserves. i am trying my best to put my character and integrity into things that i write, even if what i produce ends up falling flat or doesn’t come across. but this ask isn’t an isolated issue. this issue has come up multiple times in the time i’ve had my blog, where people just reduce my stories down to smut smut smut smut smut when are we gonna get smut when are they gonna fuck write more smut in kickoff you should make ihm couple fuck like rabbits in the next chapter oh we better see them do [redacted redacted redacted] or else imma [redacted redacted redacted]. my fics are literally TAGGED with "slow burn romance"...i am fully transparent about it. and while i’ve also gotten so many meaningful heartfelt reactions to my stories (which, btw, were tastefully horny…yes, there is a way to send an author an ask that is tastefully horny while also appreciating their work!! insane wild concept!! /sarcasm), unfortunately these bad interactions will always stick.

like. would you ask someone you knew irl that was writing a novel, when they're gonna write the smut for it? would you tell them to hurry tf up and finish their novel just so that you can read the smut? would you send them your smut fantasies and be like "include this in your novel for ME because I want it "? no. because they'd think you're creepy n weird asf n overbearing then drop you. so why is it okay to do that to an author on tumblr? what happened to manners? what happened to decorum? especially for creators who are making you content for FREE.

if i was an author that wrote purely smut oneshots, i’d maybe kinda sorta understand (still think it's wrong asf, regardless of the content of stories that you write). but i feel like, after the 200k+ words that i’ve poured into my two stories (including the chapters i’ve written that i haven’t yet released) where it’s CLEARLY evident that these stories are much more than smut, i’d think that i deserve treatment a little bit better than this.

i’m done. i’m done trying to be nice. i’m done just silently deleting rude asf asks because i don’t wanna cause a scene. i’m done worrying about hurting people’s feelings, when I’M the one that is getting my feelings hurt while you just get to hide behind an anon.

i. am. just. fucking. done.

[flightlessangelwings]

His Strength

Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word count- 3.8k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.

Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives

Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!

~

When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.

It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family. 

Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart. 

*

Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.

It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.

Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.

You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.

“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.

You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.

He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts. 

Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.

A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.

Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.

This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.

“Fuck… Din…”

“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”

His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach. 

“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.

Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.

He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.

Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.

That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.

But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.

You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.

“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.

Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.

“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.

The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him… 

*

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.

Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you. 

The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.

Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.

“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.

You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”

Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.

A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.

Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.

He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.

*

You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.

“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.

Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.

“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.

The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.

“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.

“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”

He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.

“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.

The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.

Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”

Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.

Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.

The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.

“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.

Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."

Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…

Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain. 

*

Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.

“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.

Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”

“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”

He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”

“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”

“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.

Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”

Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”

“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled. 

He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.

“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.

As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.

Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”

Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.

Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.

You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.

As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he said gently.

You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.

“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.

You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.

Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.” 

[simpforboys]

I have a Xavier request. I dunno if it’s been done (plus its a little cringe and a little cliche) but the ideas been stuck in my head for days - partially inspired by rose “paint me like one of your French girls” scene in titanic. Xavier asks to paint her nude or she asks. It can lead to anything I just need the idea out of my head. Another idea I had that could be linked or seperate is a reader with wings and Xavier is just like obsessed

By the way I love your work. Your JJ stuff too (goodness me) -

Anon 🐣

(Ps: have a high five 🖐️, m not keen on hugs)

my angel

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: you want xavier to draw you… nude.

warnings: mentions of smut, no real smut, nudity, YOU HAVE WINGS!!!! (i pictured angel wings but go with whatever u want bae) xavier is in love with you

im combining this because omg imagine xavier drawing you and hes just obsessed with your wings and body… anyways imma get writing

initially, when you approached xavier about the idea of doing a portrait of you, he loved it.

considering he had done many sketches of your beautiful face, it should be easy.

but then you clarified what you meant.

“can you draw me like one of your french girls, xavier?” you mimicked rose from the movie, titantic.

you leaned against your boyfriend, your wings wrapping around him enough to make him flustered.

he spun around in his stool, his eyes full of admiration. he put his hands on your waist and brought you closer.

“you know i always draw you, baby.” xavier told you, referring to the multiple portraits he had done of you.

“what if i want you do draw me with my wings? with only my wings…” you trailed off. the look you gave xavier was suggestive and he couldn’t help but feel excitement.

so now, as you stood in front of xavier in nothing but a robe in the center of his dorm, he couldn’t help but feel flustered.

“where do you want me, baby?” you teased, seeing your boyfriend blush.

“how about you lay on the bed.” xavier grabbed a chair and brought it over. he watched as you gracefully dropped the robe before laying down.

his eyes roamed your naked body. he had seen it numerous times before, but for some reason this seemed more intimate.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n.” xavier whispered as he began to sketch.

you grinned at your boyfriend. he always made you feel special.

the focus look on his face as he drew you was enough to make you flustered. being so vulnerable while he memorized every part of you was intimidating.

“relax, baby. your wings are moving.”

xavier knew when you got flustered or embarrassed your wings would tend to show your emotions more than your face.

for instance, your wings had began to scrunch together instead of being fully displayed.

that’s one of the things xavier loved most about you. the way he could always tell how you felt by your wings.

he loved everything about you. he was quite literally smitten by you, ever since he first saw you.

you were never scared to be yourself.

xavier finally finished your face when he began to draw your boobs. the memories of him leaving hickies, kissing them, sucking them made xavier blush.

“what’s got you blushing, pretty boy?”

“you.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you laughed.

“you don’t need to. everything about you would make me blush.”

you couldn’t help but feel your own face warm up, wings clamping together slightly.

“babe.”

“sorry!”

➽─────────────────❥

“are you almost done? i’m half asleep over here.”

xavier laughed at your comment. he was just finishing the details on your wings, leg bouncing in anticipation.

what if you hated it?

“come look.”

you stood up from the bed, sleep in your eyes as you put on one of xavier’s shirts.

you sat on his lap as he showed you the drawing. your face turned in admiration as xavier watched your eyes light up.

“oh my god, it’s so pretty. like a renaissance portrait.”

xavier grinned, his big hands rubbing your bare thighs. “my angel, huh?”

you smiled, kissing your boyfriend.

“your angel.”

[dabiscrispypp]

In case we die...

Muriel x Fem Reader

(Official art)

MINORS DNI

Warning Muriel Arcana route spoilers!

You and Muriel have finally gotten back from the portal only to find out you've been gone for a week? After the most exhausting fight you finally have a night alone after Muriel tells you he loves you, with one night left before war you make the most of each other's company...

Cw: creampie, fingering, fluffy nervous first time sex, honestly this one's real vanilla but if you've read his route you know he probably wouldn't be super kinky, especially in this scene. But it is heavily implied that if you choose the right option yall fuck. The fiction also starts with the first part of the "undress him" option in hold the line.

..........

"I know how to undress myself" the man in front of you blushes deeply at the proposition you had given him "really cause it seems like you were going to go to bed with all your clothes on" You smile warmly at him laughing lightly, unbuttoning his heavy cloak and setting it at the end of the bed. The events of the past few days weigh heavy on your mind, yet he sits still, not protesting any of your advancements to take his clothes off... in fact, his pupils are a little blown, blush on his face, and he's looking at you more intently than he ever has. Just last night, he confessed his love to you, and this was the first time since then that you've got some time alone. You move to take his shoes off before looking down at his shirt. He's staring at your lips intently, though you move to kiss him first, straddling his lap and taking advantage of his surprise by popping the first button on his shirt. "That's cheating," he teases when he pulls away. "I was distracted..." He pouts jokingly as you continue to unbutton his shirt, pressing light kisses to his now exposed collarbone. With each button, you expose more and more of his skin, and despite the fact that half the time you have been together, this giant man has been shirtless... you can't help but feel that seeing him in this way is so much more intimate, and that makes you nervous. Soon, you're down to the last button, hands shakily fumbling to undo it and help him out of the form-fitting shirt.

And suddenly, there's only one item of clothing left... Now it's your turn to blush and stutter. It's not like you haven't been around him in WAY less. Hell, you took a bath together weeks ago. Yet now you feel his gaze on you, and for once, it makes you nervous. Now you know how he's been feeling the whole time he's been with you. Taking advantage of your newfound shyness, he does something you would've never expected HIM to do. He takes your face in one hand, kissing you... and unzips the back of your dress with the other. "Muriel!" You gasp surprised against him. "I'm not the only one that was about to sleep in my clothes" he points out, grinning at you, proud of his sudden boldness, which you had to admit was pretty hot, yet you blush a bit more realizing however that the only undergarment you were wearing was a pair of dainty purple lacey panties that Nadia had hidden for you in your costume box... just in case. It's no surprise she left them there. You weren't the only one encouraging your attempts to get Muriel out of his shell. Why you grabbed them, you weren't entirely sure... they were awfully sexy for something you would choose though, and now you felt a bit self conscious, hoping he didn't think you were EXPECTING anything from him. The dress had built-in padding, so you didn't really need to wear anything else, and you didn't want a bra strap to ruin the look that Nadia perfectly crafted you for the Masquerade. He runs his hand down your bare back, snapping you out of your constant overthinking, taking in the softness of your now exposed skin before realizing your predicament. You laugh nervously. "With everything that's happened, I never really thought to get something else to wear to bed..." Your face is bright red.

"I don't mind... anything if it's with you..." Anything... oh. OH. Is he insinuating what you think he is? "I don't mind either" your words come out confidently but your heart is practically beating out of your chest as he pulls you closer and slowly moves to take the rest of your dress off, almost as if he's giving you time to change your mind, to protest and say "nevermind goodnight!" But you don't. Instead, you let him, nervous as you are, you let him. Because he loves you, and you love him too. This grumpy, ornery, sweet mountain of a man really truly loves you, and for the first time, you can tell from the way he looks at you. Soon, you're in nothing but those lacey panties, and for the first time (that you've noticed), he stares at you in awe, taking a moment to gather his words. "I've never said this to you... a-and I'm not just saying it because we may die tomorrow... I don't always know how to say what I want..." he huffs again, still trying to find the right words, and you wait patiently, fighting the urge to cover your now exposed breasts, slightly self-conscious with how exposed you now are to him. Finally, he cups your cheek and looks directly into your eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world." And when he says it, he says it with such certainty, like it's a fact and not his opinion. A deep blush sets upon your cheeks. You've always been attracted to him. You've always known how you feel about him, and as much as he has let you know that he loves you, he's never commented on his attraction towards you. "You think I'm beautiful?" The question leaves your lips, and you're not sure if it's to tease him... or to simply hear him say it again. "You are so beautiful." This time, there's no hesitation in his words, no uncertainty in his tone, just pure adoration and love, and you can't help but think of last night... when he held out those flowers to you and told you he loved you. When you teased him, telling him to tell you over and over because you would never tire of hearing him say it. When you got so excited that he said it, that you forgot to say it back until later that night. Blushing, you snap back to the present moment, more smitten than you've ever been around him. "Well, if we want to..." You stammer out the next words, "then we need to talk a couple more layers off of you..." You tug on his belt loops, signaling that you want nothing more than to get rid of his pants. Not being able to take them off with him sitting, he lays you on the makeshift bed of furs, kissing your neck... then your collarbone... then the valley between your breasts... going lower and lower until he stops, kissing your thighs and standing up to take his pants off. You're almost disappointed in him wearing underwear but flustered at the boldness of the kisses he just gave you. "How are you not nervous??" You blush deeply self-conscious about your own nerves, covering your face. "Of course I am... you have no idea how nervous I am right now... but I love you, and you haven't stopped me yet or given me any sign that this isn't what you want." He takes your hand and presses it to his chest lightly so you can feel how fast his heart is beating... and it matches yours. "I don't want to hurt you... you're so much smaller than me, but... I know you'll protest at that too, saying I need to trust you more and that you'll tell me if something is wrong. So I'm trusting you and giving myself the chance to be a little bolder." You smile finally, giving yourself a chance to be more comfortable. If Muriel himself, the mountain of anxiety and nerves, can find a way to be more confident for you, so can you.

"We both need to lose one more layer..." You sit up and pull him down towards you, whispering in his ear before kissing his neck and bringing your hand to the waistband of his underwear. He tenses but doesn't protest as you slowly start to slide them down. You try your best not to ogle how big he is, but you blush as he is now fully exposed to you. The man was big, in general. He was 6'10 and was going to have a fairly big dick to you either way he was built. Noticing you staring a bit, he starts getting a bit shy again. "You are so handsome, Muriel... don't shy away from me now..." You take his hand in yours, pulling him toward you on the bed, laying down for him. He follows your gesture and joins you, taking some time to pull up a blanket over the both of you, not wanting anyone to come in and see what you are about to be doing. It's not like being in a tent gives you the best privacy, and even with wards up, it still feels open. One layer stands between you two. One lacey pair of panties. And instead of pulling them off quickly, like you were anticipating, he stares at them before kissing your thighs once again. "These are... fancy... pretty." He blushes. "Did you wear these for me?" "Kind of... I mean, I wasn't expecting this to happen, but Nadia left them in the costume box, and I put them on and... I don't know. I got flustered at the possibility of you seeing them..." You trail off feeling suddenly shy again. "I thought they were pretty, and I guess I was hoping you would find them pretty too." He kisses on top where they rest snugly on your hips. "They're pretty... but you could wear nothing, and I would still find you pretty" blushing deeply he realizes what he said, and then laughs lightly remembering he was about to take the only thing off of you leaving you covered. "I just mean that I think you're pretty wearing anything... or nothing, " and with that, he slowly slides them down your legs, marveling at the sight before him. You, completely naked, blush on your cheeks as you wait for him in eager anticipation.

"You sure this is okay? I'm not... I'm not bad for wanting this as badly as I do..." "If you're bad for wanting this, then I'm a God damn heathen Muriel... You have no idea how badly I want you right now" You breathe heavily as he takes his sweet time savoring the feeling of your thighs underneath his rough hands. "I-I might need some guidance..." he admits rather embarrassed. It makes sense to you now that he's never done this. The man hasn't so much as he talked to a person besides asra until you came along. "We can arrange that love." You smile gently at him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you. Your hearts are still pounding against your chest as you press yourself against him. Plush breasts against his chest, soft lips on his. Hands wandering each other's bodies as you enjoy what could be your last night together. His hands rest on your hips gripping them softly and pressing himself down on you, his hard cock all too present between your thighs, he moves to kiss your neck as you run your fingers through his silky hair. You breathe heavily as he starts to move his hand up to your breast, finger running lightly over your lightly hardened nipple, grinding down on you ever so lightly, brushing against your clit and stealing a light moan from your lips. You gasp and cover your mouth embarrassed, but he looks back down on you, moving his hand to pin your wrists up, not squeezing too tightly, both wrists fitting in his hand perfectly. He blushes before touching his other hand to the side of the tent, green energy pooling out of his fingers and seeping into the fabric before disappearing again. "Wha-" "Soundproof... I want to hear you make that sound again." His pupils are blown out as the candle in your tent burns out, moonlight remaining your only light outside, silver lighting illuminating the both of you. He keeps your hands pinned up as he goes back down to kissing you, letting the other hand go back to wandering your body, nervously stopping as he gets lower. "Go ahead Muri~ your doing amazing" you blush as he moves his hand down further, fingers brushing against your clit. You let out an involuntary whimper as his fingers brush your clit, pulling against him to cover your mouth, and getting stopped by his soft but firm grip on your wrists. And if Muriel is anything, he is perceptive, sharpened senses from living out in the woods for so long. He notices that was a good spot and presses slightly harder with his thumb, rubbing sweet circles on the sensitive spot, causing you to squirm lightly beneath him, breathing heavily as he makes you feel so good.

You feel a soft magic chord wrap itself around your wrists as Muriel moves to use his other hand. "Let me know if you want out of those..." he blushes nervously and holds your hips down with his now free hand as he uses his other to dip a finger into you, keeping a steady pace on your clit. This illicates a much louder moan from you, back arching "Fuck! That feels good, Muri~ You don't even need guidance." You aren't lying to him. He's doing everything right. Maybe a little practice could make it better, but that didn't even matter because you still felt good. "Muriel~" You moan out his name as a form of praise, something you're noticing he likes. The encouragement reassures him, a stark contrast from how he reacts to normal compliments. Normally, you would cover your mouth with your hands embarrassed about being noisy... but that was not an option as your hands were bound in spirals of green magic, and honestly? You didn't feel the need to get out of them anytime soon, and it felt good not to have to silence yourself. He moves his finger inside you, slowly pulling in and out, watching in awe as your face contorts into one of pure pleasure. "Mu- Muri... feels so good..." You whisper praises into his ear before you kiss his jawline, peppering his neck with light kisses before reaching his collarbone. That's when you have the mischievous idea to deepen the kiss, sucking lightly on his neck to leave a mark, blushing at the low sound in his throat as he tries to muffle his own sounds. You grin and leave a few more before he distracts you by catching your lips on his. You can feel his lips curl into a small smile as he slowly adds another finger to your pleasure, savoring the gasps and moans you make as he rocks your hips against his fingers. "Muri... I-I'm close..." Your voice comes out in a whimper as the pleasure building in your core starts to become overwhelming. He hooks his fingers lightly and gives you a few matching love marks to add to the growing collection of the night, and like a dam breaking your orgasm comes crashing down... right on his fingers, breathing heavily small tears forming in your eyes as you cum. Feeling you start to calm down a bit, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and releases your hands from their magic binding, checking on you before continuing.

"Y-your crying... did I do something wrong?" He whipes your tears, panicked look crossing his face as you catch your breath. "No, Muri, you didn't do anything wrong... that felt so amazing... I just love you so much that I can't help but get a bit emotional. " You smile reassuringly at him, pulling him back down for a kiss, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "I love you so so much Muri you could never do anything to hurt me or scare me" you cup his face gently letting his fears melt away as you kiss him again, this time pulling him to lay down himself. "You made me feel so good muri, it's my turn to return the favor..." You push him lightly to the bed so that he's in the spot you were in, laying on his back. "Let me know if you want me to stop love..." You straddle him once again, yet this time there's no fabric to stop yourself from lining his cock up to you. Muriel can't do anything but stare at your silhouette illuminated by the moonlight, cock growing harder at the sight. You were red-faced, hair disheveled, and beautiful in the silvery light. "You're gorgeous..." he whispers in awe as you lower yourself onto him. Intently watching your reactions as his cock slides into you almost effortlessly, though it takes a bit for you to get use to him, he is big. You watch Muriel just as mindfully, taking note of his reactions as well. The first note is that he is breathing HARD, face redder than you've ever seen before as he watches you lower yourself onto him with ease. He's also trying his damn hardest not to moan and be as loud as you were, low guttural notes caught in his vocal chords as you struggle to take him all at once. It was a challenge, and it is slow at first, but eventually, you fit him all the way in, moaning as any small movement sends a shiver of pleasure up your spine. You lean down and pull the now fallen blanket back up over you two, as to say that this display of affection and intimacy was for the two of you only, adding another level of comfort to both of your growing anxieties about this being the infamous first time. "Muriel, you soundproofed this tent for a reason... I wanna hear you, too." You tease, grinning as you start to rock your hips, stealing a low gasp from the big man. "F-fuck feels... really good." Surprising you, he's never sworn in front of you before, brows furrowing as he grips your hips tightly, moving you slowly on him. Unfortunately, the height difference between you and the big man stays apparent as you struggle to keep up with the pace he's setting. Noticing this, he stops, bunching up a pillow behind him and sitting up, helping you with the position. "You're so small, I forget sometimes that I have to help you out with things. Guess this is one of them, " he teases lovingly as he breaths harder, hitting all of the deepest and best spots inside of you with this new position. "Muri~" You whimper at the new position, feeling so full. "Sh- shut up, you..." Your lack of comeback endearing to him as you both start having troubles staying quiet. It was smart to soundproof the tent. While his moans were low and breathy, almost guttural gasps for air... Yours were way louder, and once again, he is not allowing you to cover them up. "Why would you want to cover up such beautiful noises... tells me you're having a good time." He murmurs against your neck, kissing and sucking small trails of love marks down your skin.

You were hoping to make him feel good, and you are, but in all honestly he's doing most of the work rocking you back and forth on him at a comfortable pace, savoring how lost in the pleasure he's making you. You grip at his biceps desperately, trying to ground yourself from the overstimulation, yet still wanting more... "F-faster..." You mumble weakly, and he obliges, picking up the pace, a feat that was all too easy for the muscular man, who was now losing his composure, losing himself to the pleasure himself, speeding up the pace without even realizing. "Muri! Fuck!" You moan, digging your nails into his biceps as you feel your own pleasure building up again. Both of you lost in each other's embrace as you turn into a whimpering mess, practically drunk on the way his cock was pounding into you. Crashing down on you again you cum a second time, urging him to keep going for his own release. "Wh-where should I?" "Inside. Muriel, please... cum inside me." You grip his arms more as he pushes you down one last time, doing as you said and cumming inside you. "F- fuck Muriel... you grip onto him panting as you blink away a few more tears, overstimulation causing your legs to shake around him lightly. You both sit there panting and trying to catch your breath, enjoying the warmth of each other, both sharing a few tears at this point. "I love you so much..." he murmurs to you as he holds you tightly before pulling him out of you slowly. "Wh- what if you get pr-" "I'll use magic honey." He melts at the newfound pet names you've given him and wraps his arms around you. "That was amazing... " You reassure him to let him know he didn't do anything wrong. However, when you stand to grab any spare cloth to clean up with your legs, give out, sore from the previous activities. He catches you quickly and puts you back on the bed. "I'll be better tomorrow, don't worry." You laugh a bit embarrassed at falling, legs shaking from all the overstimulation. He grabs whatever cloth he could find to help clean you up, helping you before coming back to bed, pulling you close to curl up in his arms. "I love you... good luck to us tomorrow, I would hate for that to be the only time we can do that." He jokes, only half teasingly, nerves about the oncoming war setting in a bit more, "w-we will be good, right?" You nod and press a kiss to his chest "we're gonna kick Lucio's ass tomorrow don't you worry" You grin and eventually fall asleep, waking up the next day to Asra's voice. Ignoring the incredulous stares at both you and Muriel until Julian points out your necks to each other. "Have fun last night?" He laughs eying the both of you, confusing you until you look at each other, noticing the remnants of the night before on your necks and collarbone. You swore you both could've died of embarrassment before even stepping to the battlefield.

[comfortzonequeen]

Under Starlit Skies

Summary: A story where reader and Austin Butler are working together on a romantic movie, and while filming, their on-screen chemistry starts to blur the lines with their real-life feelings for each other?

Warning: N\A

Y/N L/N and Austin Butler were cast as leads in a romantic drama, a project everyone in Hollywood was buzzing about. The movie, "Under Starlit Skies", was about two people who meet by chance during a magical evening and slowly fall in love. Their characters, deeply intertwined in emotion, had undeniable chemistry from the very first table read. But what no one anticipated was that this chemistry would spill into their real lives.

Day 1 on Set

The first day of shooting took place in a beautiful, secluded vineyard just outside of Napa Valley. The scene required Y/N and Austin to share a quiet, intimate moment under the stars. As they rehearsed the lines, the glow of the moonlight and the warmth of the nearby campfire set a calming tone.

"You're really good at this," Austin complimented, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Y/N smiled, feeling a slight flutter in her chest. "Thanks. I could say the same about you."

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, effortlessly bouncing off each other's energy. The crew was watching closely, captivated by how easily they seemed to connect. Even the director, a veteran of countless love stories, was impressed. "Cut! Perfect take, guys. Let’s move on to the next."

But neither Y/N nor Austin was ready to walk away. They lingered, sharing a smile, before heading off to their trailers.

Late-Night Rehearsals

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N and Austin found themselves spending more time together. The demanding shooting schedule gave them little time for much else, and soon they were having late-night rehearsals in Y/N’s trailer.

"You know," Austin said one evening, leaning back on the couch, "this script is great and all, but I think we could add something more to this scene. Make it feel... real."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Like what?"

"I don't know, maybe we play with the pauses between our lines. Sometimes, when people are falling in love, it's the silence that says the most."

She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I like that. Let's try it."

They ran through the lines again, adding subtle moments of quiet, glances that lingered a little too long, and smiles that felt all too genuine. By the end of the scene, they were sitting closer, their knees touching.

On-Set Chemistry

The director had noticed something shifting between Y/N and Austin. Their on-screen chemistry was electric, so much so that the rest of the cast began making little jokes about it.

"You two should get a room," one of the crew members teased after a particularly steamy scene.

Y/N laughed it off, but her heart raced every time she was near Austin. It was undeniable—they were growing closer. What started as friendly banter had evolved into something much deeper. Austin would make her coffee in the mornings, and she'd wait for him after they wrapped each day. Their conversations grew longer, and the silences between them, even off-camera, were comfortable, full of unspoken understanding.

The Turning Point

One evening, after filming a particularly emotional scene, Austin invited Y/N to grab dinner at a quiet little restaurant off the beaten path. The small town they were filming in didn't have much, but the ambiance of the place was perfect.

Over dinner, they talked about everything—life, work, dreams, and fears. Y/N shared stories of her childhood, and Austin opened up about his career and the pressures of being in the spotlight.

"I'm glad you're here," he said softly, his hand resting on the table near hers. "I don't think this film would've worked without you."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. "I feel the same way. This has been... unexpected."

"Unexpected, but good?"

"Yeah. Really good."

There was a pause, the kind Austin had suggested in their rehearsal weeks ago. They held each other’s gaze, the energy between them shifting.

Austin reached across the table, gently taking Y/N’s hand. "We should stop pretending this is just for the movie."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his boldness, but the truth of his words resonated deeply. "What do we do then?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Austin’s smile was tender, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "We let it happen. No pressure. No expectations."

Balancing Work and Love

After that night, Y/N and Austin’s relationship evolved quietly. They tried to keep things professional on set, but their stolen glances and subtle touches didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew.

Off-set, they spent their free time exploring new cities together as the movie took them to different locations. Whether it was wandering through the streets of Paris or sipping coffee in a cozy café in Prague, they found moments to just be themselves, away from the public eye.

The intensity of their work on-screen bled into their real-life connection, but they both knew the importance of keeping things balanced. They supported each other, Austin showing up to set early to cheer her on during difficult scenes, and Y/N being a grounding presence when the weight of fame bore down on him.

The Premiere

When "Under Starlit Skies" premiered, the media couldn’t get enough of KC and Austin. Their chemistry on the red carpet was undeniable, with photographers constantly snapping pictures of them laughing together, stealing little touches, and whispering in each other’s ears.

As the movie played on the big screen, audiences were captivated by the love story, but what most didn’t realize was that the real love story had unfolded behind the scenes.

By the time the credits rolled, it wasn’t just the characters in the movie who had fallen in love. Y/N and Austin had found something real, something they hadn’t anticipated but couldn’t deny. And as they stepped out of the theater hand in hand, the world watched in awe, knowing this wasn’t just a Hollywood romance—it was the start of something beautiful.

End

Author's Note: This is my first ever imagine guys so please don't come for me. I know it's short but ...... No buts. But please feel free to tell me what you think. Been hella obsessed with AB lately.

💋😘