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amourtoken · 4 months

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some vessel thoughts for you as per request

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: possessive vessel, raw sex (don't do this), biting, oral fixation, obsession, breeding, dirty talk (vessel has a mf mouth on him lol), some underlying hate fucking vibes, needy ves, size kink, ect.

☆ filthy ass man right here let me tell you

☆ he's so enamored. Absolutely in love and obsessed. All he can think of are your plush hips and pretty eyes 24/7. The way your hips sway just right when you walk, how good your ass looks in your crew leggings, how your tour shirt hugs you just right and when you're helping the stage crew lift boxes he can see just a peek of your skin when your shirt hikes up. Your smile sends a swarm of butterflies to his stomach and blood to his cock. You're so small compared to him too...he could lift you so easily...

☆ He couldn't help himself. He pulled you away from a conversation with a crew member who was a bit too enthusiastic for his taste and nearly threw you into an empty green room, kicking the door closed behind him. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he practically ripped your clothes off, admiring how beautiful you were underneath.

☆ remember when I said he could lift you up like nothing? He knelt down in front of you just enough to grip your thighs and hike you onto his shoulders, legs resting over them as you yelped. He pressed your back to the wall to help support you so high up and went at you like a man starved, face buried in your pussy and hands holding your soft thighs for support. You tasted so fucking sweet, he could spend the rest of his life between your legs happily. His teeth grazed your clit lightly every so often and he'd huff a soft laugh at how you'd jolt and whimper.

☆ he's not done until he wants to be, drawing 3 orgasms from you with his mouth and bringing you to tears before he feels like you're ready for anything else. He just wants his lamb to be taken care of, he knows what's best for you. Trust him.

☆ your body was smeared with black paint from him, which he reveled in. Marking you up so everyone knows you belong to him. He's absolutely going to cover you in hickeys, bite marks and finger print shaped Bruises as well. He won't even attempt to hide them, wanting to be certain everyone knows you're spoken for.

☆ he lowers you from his shoulders but keeps you pinned to the wall, legs wrapped around his waist as he fumbles to pull his achingly hard cock from his pants. Once it's freed your eyes widened, how was that going to fit?? He's fucking huge in every way. Ves supports you with one hand as the other guides his cock to your soaked pussy, rubbing the tip against your clit making you whine pathetically. You were so sensitive from earlier but he's gonna tease tf out of you either way.

"Poor thing, don't think you can handle me?"

"Relax, let me take care of you my love, you trust me right?"

☆ the stretch of him is enough to make you see stars and he buries his face against your neck as he sinks in to the hilt. His fingers hold your hips so tight they leave bruises and he trails messy open mouthed kisses all over your throat, teeth scraping the junction between your shoulder and neck before sinking in and drawing a yelp from you. It's almost like he used this as an anchor, grinding himself up into you impossibly further and brushing your cervix. He's so big :((

☆ once he sets a rhythm, then he gets mouthy.

"So fucking tight around me...you ever fucked someone else before? Doesn't matter now does it...all fucking mine."

"Gonna ruin you for everyone else...all mine"

"Feels like this pussy was made for me, love- squeezing me so good"

"Gonna fill you up so fucking good, want me to put a baby in you? Please- beg for it, beg for my cum"

"Please- say my name, need to hear that pretty voice- please, fuck"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, mine- all mine- my fuckin' pussy- say it."

"Gonna take all my cum? Tell me how bad you want it"

"so pretty even when you cry love..all for me?"

"Feels like I'm gonna split you in half- but I'll make it fit."

"Tell me who's making you feel this good- louder. Need everyone to know who's pussy this is."

☆ he punctuates all his nasty sentences with harsh thrusts and revels in the pretty noises you make while he drags you up and down his fat cock. He'll hold you up while he lifts you away from the wall and lays you on the nearest flat surface after swiping everything off it into the floor. Now he can get even fucking deeper.

☆ his arms are caging you under him while he bullies your pussy and he loves to push your knees up to your chest and drill himself even deeper.

"Gotta make sure it takes- fuck- gonna be so pretty with my babies, yeah?"

"Only I can fuck you like this...make you feel this good. Need to hear you say it, please-"

"Hope they all hear how good I fuck you- no point in anyone else trying- you're fuckin' ruined"

"Gonna cum for me again, love? Feel you getting tighter-"

☆ when he cums he's so fucking loud, but he'll bury his face against your skin and sink his teeth in to try and muffle it. It doesn't help. He moans and growls like he's near tears. He'll dig his fingers into your hips as tight as possible and fuck himself deeper than ever when he fills you up.

"fuck- fuck fuck- take it- fucking take it-"

☆ he'd the type to keep fucking you even after he's cum inside and overstimulate the both of you. He almost can't set a rhythm, legs shaking and hips stuttering but he just can't stop. He's whimpering against your neck while fucking his twitching cock into your spent body and spouting praises against your ear abt how beautiful you are and how you're his and his only who took him so good.

☆his wish did in fact come true, almost the entirety of the crew heard you two. Turns out the walls are thinner than expected, but not that he cares. He'd brand his name on you if he could.

#Vessel #Vessel smut #This isn't very good.#But I'll rewrite it sometime #Sleep token smut

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 30 days

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The Cardinal Who Lifts Weight

Featuring Cardinal Joseph W. Tobin

For about a year, us guys at the gym just called him Joe. He would get his reps in during his early morning workouts a few feet from me under or close to the wall clock. When I would glance at the clock, his eyes would often meet mine. I began to notice his entrancing eyes, and I would find myself admiring his stocky 6' 3”, 70-year-old figure. His graying brown hair covered by a skull-printed do-rag, which I found oddly appealing. He was friendly and would greet me by name when we walked past each other.

Meanwhile, while I suspected he might be interested, I would resolve to not convey any gay vibe to encourage him. The tension I was feeling was distracting and unwelcome.

One day when he was finishing up and getting dressed, I commented that I'd always wanted to have thicker thighs like his. He seemed flustered at first, then I elaborated its only men who ever develop nice legs like that and stared at his crotch. He smiled and we shot the shit for a bit before I swallowed all my fears and just asked him if he wanted to "fool around." lol I still can't believe I fucking said that.

“I'm a priest,” Joe quickly answered. “In fact,” He said, his voice growing quieter so no one could hear in earshot, “I’m the archbishop of Newark.”

Apparently, Joe was also known as Cardinal Joseph W. Tobin. A prelate of the Catholic Church and he has been the Archbishop of Newark since 2017. I was surprised as I never would have thought he was a priest. I mean this guy is benching two and a quarter! Still sensing interest as we talked, I moved closer to him until I could easily reach out and touch his leg, which I did. He was still wearing his gym shorts and I got a thrill out of rubbing my hand against his hairy leg.

“I could use some action, but I don’t have a place to go.” He told me.

“Me neither.” I said, not wanting to take him to my apartment.

“You want to come out to the car with me.” The old man leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“Sure.” I said.

“Let me go first. I’ll meet you on the street behind the gym.” The old man said and then got up from his sit.

I watched as he walked out of the gym. God! Did he look wonderful! I got up after I figured he had time to get to his car and quickly followed him out. I found him waiting for me just around the corner of the gym.

“Here’s my car.” He said pointing to a black Chevy Tahoe and proceeded to unlock the door, getting inside the backseat. I hurried around to the other side of the SUV and got in.

Almost immediately, he fished his slightly weathered fingers inside his shorts and pulled out first his short cut dick and then after much struggling his huge set of bull sized balls. I nearly nutted. Something about seeing someone you were lusting after for a year with his dick out tends to do that to you. Joe was surprisingly already hard, stroking his boner while waiting for me to get my cock out. As I did, Joe moved his hand over to grasp my cock and began a gentle massage. I responded in kind and held his hard dick, feeling the warm prong in my grasp. Looking back, I can laugh at the almost hysterical grabbing and fondling of this frantic first encounter.

“I’ll watch out.” He said in a stern voice charged with sexual excitement. Fortunately, the place was deserted, and we were so off the beaten path that I didn't even know where we were, and I knew the place pretty well.

Joe's dick was throbbing when I put my mouth over it and began to suck this old priest off. He hadn't received many blowjobs and seemed delighted to have me pumping up and down on his dick. Joe was so excited that he made me stop a couple of times so he wouldn't cum, even having me stop jiggling his balls as well. He apologized for being so excited, but in the end he lost control anyway as without warning he grabbed me by the hair and forced my head down on it as far as I could take it. He began spurting his musky load into my mouth while groaning loudly as he ran his hands through my hair.

I took it all as he screamed in ecstasy. It was fantastic to know I could give him so much pleasure. He gently released me, still hissing through his teeth and breathing frantically.

"Oh god that felt good." He said as I sat upright.

With that, Joe leaned over and took my 7” cock straight down his throat, right up to my balls, which were aching by this time. The sight of my cock entering his mouth still is, to this day, one of my favorite sights in the world. The sensation was indescribable as he sucked excitedly and gently on my cock. Thankfully, I’ve always taken a long time to cum, so I knew I’d be fine as he went down on me. Joe pushed his head down on my cock as far as he could without gagging. So far in fact, I felt the head rubbing the back of his throat.

After that, I couldn't last with all the pent up sexual tension and I squirmed to let him know I was about to cum and he just said, "I want to taste your cum."

Joe got what he wanted, because he was such a skilled cocksucker that my orgasm raced through my loins in a rush, and my cock spurted what seemed like an ungodly amount of cum into the throat of my gym buddy. And he took it all effortlessly. And when my cock stopped ejaculating, he did his best to empty my nuts, sucking eagerly on my deflating dick while he massaged my balls. I finally had to gently pry him off me, and even after my dick left his mouth he kept licking and flicking the tip of my cock with his tongue while my cum trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

When Joe finally finished, he pulled his head up and looked at me. I know he was wondering how it was so I told him it was fantastic before he could ask.

That's how I got to plowing a straight older guy from my gym in the back seat of my truck. Before any of that, on several occasions we'd exchanged glances. That was my first indication he might be curious.

#Joseph W. Tobin #The Cardinal Who Lifts Weight #fan fiction #priest

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iambilliejeanok · 10 months

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🎀The lords plaything🎀

Geto x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, breeding ,NSFW, explicit, squirting, hardcore, rough penetration, cunnillingus, fingering. This one really isn’t for the feint hearted.

🩷Monday Smut Day🩷

It’s not everyday that he gets to see you, pushing you up against the wall as he trailed hot kisses against your neck, and maybe the steaming hot make out session that grew hotter and hotter by the minute was him taking advantage of his own power, but having the powerful leader of a successful, wealthy cult, nipping and licking your neck as he aggressively ripped off each item of your clothing right off your body, was a blessing in itself. Maybe you earned this because of your hard work. You would indulge in it as often as it would happen, since your body belonged to no one but Geto-sama anyhow. “You’re wearing too much”, he spoke in between nips and pecks, ripping your pantyhose off as he growled against your neck, “you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, or this would piss me off”.

You felt guilty about the throbbing ache in your cunt as Geto scolded you, you loved him being this hungry, wondering if you should continue to piss him off in future. Finally ridding you of your pantyhose, you were left in a dark blue two piece lingerie set that seemed to please your god, Geto taking a step back to admire the way the lacy attire complimented your chubby figure. “You baaad girl”, he said, slowly closing the space between the two of you, smacking your pussy hard enough to force you to yelp right in his face. He smiled to himself, pleased with the reaction he caused. “Did you put this slutty little attire on in hopes of pleasing your god?”, he asked, almost growling as he spoke, dragging his fingers up your thick thighs so hard, you just knew you’d be bruised tomorrow. Feeling slightly intimidated as usual, you quickly nodded your head, “Yes Geto-sama, I prayed that you’d get a chance to see me today”, you whimpered.

“You know, you’re my favourite little slut”, he snickered in your ear, your heart skipping a beat at the realization that you weren’t the only one, feeling rather disappointed. You thought what you shared with him might have been special. You almost thought you were the chosen one. That maybe you’d become the new Mary, your heart began to ache, but not for long, as Geto suddenly took you into a fiery kiss, palming both your cheeks in his warm hands. His hands were always warm, his lips so soft as they melted against yours, distracting you from your heartache enough to enjoy him against you again. You whimpered louder than you wanted to when he broke the kiss, watching him slowly kneel down before you. You swallowed, Geto never taking his eyes off of yours as he hooked your panties with his middle finger, just other hand lifting your thigh to rest on his shoulder as he pushed your panties to the side.

He couldn’t resist burying his nose right against your bare clit, making you gasp as your hands immediately rested on his head. “Fuck, will I ever get enough of you huh?”, he asked, his hot breath right against your pussy, making you slightly squirm where you stood. Without warning, he gently pinched your clit between his index and middle finger, slowly massaging it between them. “Ooooh!”, you couldn’t help but moan, the sensation delicious, but not enough to get you anywhere. “Now now”, Geto spoke, smiling over your reaction. “Did you do what I had asked you to?”, he asked, his mouth so close to your clit as he spoke. “Huh?”, you asked, snapping out of your haze, your cheeks warm from the naughty look in his eyes. You gasped loudly when he pinch your clit harder, the answer immediately coming to mind. “Uhh, yeah…I’ve already p-printed out all the intel and m-made an extra copy too. I’ve also o-organized the extra music classes for the girls, everything’s p-paid for the rest of the year”, you spoke, trying your best to not shy away from his gaze, biting your lip as he continued squeezing and rolling your clit between the pads his fingers. “Good girl”, he said, releasing your clit only to replace his fingers with his mouth, his hot and wet tongue getting you all hot and wet too, well not that you weren’t already soaked from just being in his presence. You couldn’t suppress the soft moans escaping your lips, his free hand reaching for your breast, pulling the blue lace that covered it down before cupping it, moaning right into your heat, the vibrations coupled with his fingers now tweaking your nipple, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure from your tummy to your toes, realizing how close you already were. Stopping his administrations for just a second caught your attention, looking down at him to see what the reason was. “You taste wonderful as usual, I could sit here and eat you forever, but we have that meeting with the prime minister in ten remember?”, he asked, “yea”, you replied in the softest voice, your eyes leaving his for just a second to eye your torn clothes spread out over the floor. Without warning, Geto penetrated your sopping heat with just his single finger, shoving it down to the last knuckle, smiling at the sharp scream that left your lips at the sudden intrusion. The stretch burned, afterall, you weren’t used to this, the only man you ever shared your body with for the past two years was Geto, and he only fucked you on occasion, when he was bored, or when he had the time.

Your back arched off the wall, Geto placing his big hand on your lower tummy to push you right back against it, biting his lip at the feel of your heat trying to swallow his finger up further, your walls clenching on it in want. “Geto-sama!”, you moaned, “Geto- sama doesn’t have a lot of free time”, he smiled, “So let’s finish this up quickly shall we?” And with that, his mouth was on your clit again, sucking and licking your throbbing bean as he began moving his finger, pulling out to the tip only to shove it all the way back in, his hand on your tummy keeping you right up against the wall as he circled his finger deep inside of you, pressing against your walls before repeating the action. And like the god you knew his was, you felt yourself reaching your peak, accidentally banging your head against the wall when you threw it back, your mouth hanging open as your fingers dug through his long, soft, black tresses. “I’m gonna cum!”, you cried out, Geto patiently repeating his actions, pulling his finger out only to roughly shove it back inside of you, circling it around to massage your walls, before slowly dragging it out to just the second knuckle, now slowly dragging it back and forth over your gspot. You couldn’t bare how amazing you felt, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your leg shaking over his shoulder as you finally came, hot pleasure running through your body in waves of heat as your orgasm washed over you, Geto’s mouth still sucking on your clit, his finger continually rubbing on your gspot, a little slower now that it clenched him in ways that made his dick twitch under his robes. He moaned when he tasted your liquids finally running into his mouth, lost in the way you screamed and cried his name, gushing into his mouth as he continued to devour you. He remembered the time, immediately ending his pleasurably cruel actions in between your legs.

Quickly he lifted up both your thighs, pinning you against the wall, ignorant of the way your body thrashed in his arms, too impatient to wait for you to come back, using one hand to move his robes out the way, his throbbing erection springing up. He grabbed his length, stroking himself a few times as he watched you try and catch your breath, your body limp in his arms. He lined himself with your pussy, letting gravity help him slam himself all the way inside of you, ripping a scream from deep inside your tummy. “Fuck!!!”, you screamed, burning all so deliciously as Geto filled and stretched you out much much more than his fingers did. You could never get used to the size of him, throwing your arms around him and holding him tight. “You ready angel”, he asked, “y-yeesss”, you cried and without another word, he began thrusting into you, pulling himself out all the way to the tip before slamming himself back , circling his hips to get in as deep as he could, your fingers gripping his robes and pulling on his hair. Every single thrust made you scream, your body shivering in his hold as you came for the second time. He couldn’t care less about the mess you made on him, your pussy swallowing him up and squeezing him, hugging him tight with every thrust. It was all worth it to him, and he wanted you to cum again, his hands gripping your thighs so tight as he continued to slam himself inside of you, bottoming out so deep a ring formed at the base, the sounds your squelching pussy made as well as the sexy praises that left your lips drove him closer to the edge. He couldn’t handle the desperate and clingy yes’s, mores’ and “geto-sama’s”, that fell from you lips over and over again, your pussy clenching him tight as you squirted for the third time. He couldn’t resist how tight you squeezed him, Geto finally cumming hard, shooting hot liquid deep inside of you, making you scream as you felt him fill you up. He bit into your shoulder, hard enough to leave a nasty mark, your pussy milking him for every lost drop he had to offer. “Fuck!”, he growled, unable to pull out of you just yet, your heat still tightly wrapped around him.

Geto still held you up, your body so weak and limp in his arms, and you were grateful for the support, not sure if you’d be able to stand on your own. You were both panting hard, Geto planting kisses all over your neck as your cries turned into soft whimpers, your pussy finally able to release him. Before he pulled out of you, he turned around, his legs also a bit numb as he gently placed you on the nearby counter top, spreading your legs wide as he slowly pulled out, the hole that was so tight around him now gaping wide. He placed one hand on your tummy, pressing down hard enough to make you whimper loudly , his white fluid finally seeping out of you, spilling onto the floor in drops. He absolutely loved the sight, feeling himself growing hard again. He had to fight the temptation to fuck you once more, remembering the meeting that probably already began. He stepped away from you, and your slowly fell to the floor, the counter top not wide enough to keep your entire body on it. “I’m going to clean up in the bathroom, I’m sure the meeting already started. I’m gonna fuck you harder later on for making me late”, he said, his voice a tad bit horse as he spoke. He turned around, leaving you naked and weak on the floor, and you watched his back as he walked away to the door. “Clean yourself up and get your ass to that meeting in five”, he said as he reached for the handle, turning around to face you one more time, “or else I’ll really hurt you tonight”, and with that he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Sometimes he was nice enough to help you clean up, but today he was rather upset. He’s probably just stressed about the meeting, you told yourself, your heart skipping a beat when you realised you couldn’t stand up just yet, your legs still jello and your pussy aching from the rough penetration. Hopefully you could make it up to him by tonight, because you weren’t too sure if you’d be able to gather yourself in just five minutes, and to make matters worse, your clothes lay torn on the floor a few feet away from you.

Fuck

#jujustu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto imagines #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk imagines #jjk smut

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floralflytrap · 19 days

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Can I please get Valorant women reacting to Photographer S/O? Like Fade, Sage, Deadlock, and maybe Viper?

Fade, Sage, Deadlock and Viper with Photographer S/O | HEADCANONS

Word Count: 500+ Hi hi anon! Thank you for finding and supporting my little blog, I can absolutely do this for you :)

FADE

Fade didn’t initially notice that you were a photographer, not paying much notice to the fact that you’d take a lot of photos when you’d hang out together

She only realised you were serious about it when you went through photos with her where you showed her a bunch of high quality photos that you had finally transferred from your camera

Fade was very surprised, and was initially hesitant when you asked if she’d like to be photographed one time, but eventually she allowed you to.

She loved the way that you tried to capture her heterochromia, noticing a direct emphasis on her eyes with each photo you took and proudly showed her

Eventually she asked if you could print out the photos, to which you obliged

Next time you were in her room after that, she had a wall decorated with all of your photos

Your favourite photo of her is one where she is peacefully stirring a cup of coffee, her eyes trained softly on the stirring motion, the henna on her hand visible in the photograph

SAGE

Sage was quite attentive and noticed quite quickly that you had a particular passion for photography, seeing how your eyes lit up when you took a nice photo and the way that your lip would quirk up with giddiness

She tried to indirectly ask to see the photos, trying to not pressure you (she’s so sweet)

One time the two of you sat down comfortably on a couch and went through the photos together. You appreciated all of Sage’s praises as she gazed at the photos with awe

When you asked if Sage would like her photo taken one time, she gently accepted the offer (she contained her extreme excitement secretly)

Sage helped you scrapbook when you got into printing out the photos, and she even gifted you a bunch of scrapbooking material that was soft and nature themed (lace, pressed flowers, pastel scrapbook paper, etc.)

Your favourite photo of Sage is one where she went on a walk with you through nature, the wind blowing her hair magically, her face graced with a pure smile

DEADLOCK

Deadlock was quietly attentive, so she immediately put two and two together.

She was very blunt with asking about it when she saw your professional camera for the first time, and was quick to ask if she could see some photos.

However, she didn’t realise that you managed to capture photos of her without her realising.

Deadlock was hesitant about the photos you took of her, worrying that she looked too brooding to be a “pretty” subject matter.

You reassured her that she was gorgeous in your eyes and that she had nothing to worry over. You even asked if you could photograph her with her knowledge to prove that she had nothing to fear.

When you guys first started taking photos, Deadlock was tense underneath the lens, but after time and coaxing from you, she eased up and ended the photo session with a soft smile.

Your favourite photo of her was during that photography session, when the sun peeked through some clouds to gently shine down on her, highlighting her smile and slightly closed eyes.

VIPER

Viper didn’t enjoy the camera. She also noticed every time you pointed it in her direction.

“Y/n, put that away.”

She’d grumble every time at first, but one day her opinion changed as she peeked over your shoulder one time and saw you looking through the photos

At first she assumed that the images were just meant to be jokes, but she realised that you were serious about it and, in fact, had a great eye for photography

After that day, she complained less often whenever you’d raise the camera in her direction and would even shake her head with a half-hearted eye roll, trying to hide the smile peeking through on her face.

You never realised that she knew the photos you took, only silently leaving a stack of photos on her work bench while she was away, with a small letter resting on top of the stack

When Viper looked through the stack of photos, she had a small smile as she appreciated each and every shot that you took, especially pausing on the ones where you captured her work.

Your favourite photo of Viper was one where she was in the lab, taking her time to be precise as she mixed together different substances, the photo focusing on her attention to detail.

Thank you so much for reading <3

#valorant #valorant x reader #valorant hcs #viper #sage #fade #deadlock #deadlock x reader #viper x reader #sage x reader #fade x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months

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𝒟ℯ𝒶𝒹 ℴ𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓋ℯ

warnings: they’re both kinda pervy 😭 male masturbation, 18+, MDNI,

Cowboy!au Masterlist

He panted heavily, pulling his bandana from his face and finally letting his horse take a breath. He had nowhere to go, his friends were scattered around, and he knew they’d be fine together. But he was alone, and no civilian would take him in this late.

at least that’s what he thought.

He walked the road, horses reins in his hands. He was getting exhausted, and he knew they would have to hole up somewhere eventually.

He looked around, seeing a poster put up of him on a wood post, his face drawn on with the words “wanted dead or alive. Reward: 5,000.” printed under it. He scoffed, ripping it off the post and crumbling it, throwing it behind him.

“Wow- uhm, sir?!” Your voice called out to him, although he didn’t register it at first. “Sir?” You repeated, tapping on his shoulder. He jolted slightly, turning to meet your eyes.

Even in the dark, he could see that you were beautiful. His mouth went agape as he stared, eyes getting lost in yours for a moment.

“Are you okay? uhm- you have… blood. On your shirt.” You motioned to the stains on his chest, that reached all the way to the back of his shirt.

“Oh! Yeah, I know, it’s not mines. I’m fine.” He told you, snapping out of his daze.

“Oh.” You murmured. “Do you live ‘round here or something?” You asked him, scrunching up your face in the cutest way he’s ever seen.

He was shocked, there was posters of his name and face all around town. “Yeah.. something like that.” He responded, turning his head when he heard his horse make a noise and began to lay down, John b frowning and pulling on his reins.

“Up, girl.” He muttered under his breath, feeling bad about it but he couldn’t stay in the middle of the road.

“Oh, poor thing. How long have you guys been out?” You asked, kneeling down to reach the horses level, gently petting it.

“A- A couple hours now..” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, watching you.

“Well, uhm… I know this sounds weird, but I’m gonna feel real bad if I don’t offer it at least. My pa’s farm is just right there, we have stables and I think your horse could really use some rest. My daddy’s not home for a couple days, so it should be fine-“

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.” He told you, waving it off.

“I insist. Jus’ stay for a day or two, you look like you could use a shower. And she looks like she can use some food or somethin’.”

He looked down at himself, grimaced and sighed. “Alright.” He agreed, watching you stand back up, leading him over to your house.

“Here’s your room!” You motioned to the guest bedroom in front of you, walking into it to fix a blanket.

“It’s… beautiful.” He told you, looking around the room and the decorations. It was homey.

“Thank you. I decorated it myself.” You paused, looking at him with a smile and walking to the doorway. “You need anything, ask me, alright? Here’s a towel.” You told him, handing him the towel, his hand touching yours for a brief moment.

“Thanks…” he trailed off, watching your hips sway as you moved to leave, eyes on your ass. He shook that thought, this sweet girl was giving him hospitality !! And he was checking you out like a perv.

When he was in the shower, the thoughts didn’t go away. His cock was aching, tip red and angry. He groaned quietly in frustration, glancing around the bathroom, making sure the door was locked before his hand traveled down his body, and down to his aching member.

He ran his thumb over his tip, before slowly tugging on his cock, his mind filled with images of you as he leaned onto the thin walls with a hand holding him up, biting his bottom lip to stop any sound from coming out, only letting quiet and small grunts come out every often when he couldn’t help it.

Little did he know, you had heard every single sound that he made, with your ear pressed against the door.

#john b routledge x reader #john b x you #john b x y/n #john b #john b routledge #john b smut #john b x reader #john b prompt #cowboy!au #cowboy!johnb #cowboy!john b

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1americanconservative · 1 month

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I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy,’ she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive

through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.’

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice.. ‘The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.

They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said.

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~ THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

At the bottom of this great story was a request to forward this - I deleted that request because if you have read to this point, you won't have to be asked to pass it along you just will...

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.

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shaisuki · 1 year

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"care to teach me how to make that, sweetheart?"

the clay plops and then returned to it's original form when you look up to see toji leaning against the wall. you let out a small laugh at the nickname. one that he rarely bothers to call you and often hints at his slyness.

patting the stool besides you and toji made way but before that, grabbing the stool and placing it behind you before sitting. his hard body pressed in your back. feeling the generous curves you had. the back rolls defined in the white shirt you wore and toji almost groans suppressing a boner.

his breath tickling your neck, squirming at the puff of breath and toji smirks before pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot of your neck.

"toji, stop that. i cannot teach you." tilting your head so toji couldn't kiss your neck which the latter grumbled. placing his hands in plushness of your waist.

placing his jaw in the top of your head. toji watches your hands do wonders on the lump of mud in the pottery wheel. your hands wet as you sprinkled the clay with water to freely manipulate it. shaping the clay into a symmetrical shape. it's imperfect and yet to be defined in shape.

toji watches you gently knead the clay. your hands brown and muddy. such gentleness in your touch, every finger is made with nimbleness like the same hands and fingers that trace his soul in everyday.

grabbing toji's hand to place his hand on the formed clay. you guided his hands in kneading and shaping the clay. your smaller atop in his bigger ones. spinning the pottery wheel to get the shape you desire to make with him.

toji couldn't help to press his body to yours more. ignoring the unfinished clay while it spins in the wheel. holding your hands in his and the damp mud making a squelch sound when he held yours.

"you can teach me in another day..." he whispers and you know there won't be another day. his lips ghosting in your cheek and to your neck and you look behind you. capturing your lips with his and toji smiles in the kiss. turning into more passionate and heated one.

turning around to face him and toji holds your waist. putting you on his lap and your legs spread to straddle him.

toji gazes at you. face smeared with mud and even in that, you're the prettiest girl he will ever have. your eyes holding the innocence and gentleness in them whenever you look at him.

holding the hem of your stained shirt before raising it up to remove. he's shirtless also. his sculpted body in display and you couldn't help to hide yourself from his gaze.

"nuh uh, don't hide from me." he whispers. his hands in your belly. holding your stomach that spills in his hands and he gently kneads it like it was clay. his mud-covered hands making prints in your skin. admiring the scars and the stretch marks in your stomach and in your chest. leaving no flesh untouched.

so soft. so warm in his hands. this is the body that makes him feel loved every day. made him feel worthy for a scum like him. that he still deserves of love.

your hands in his shoulders, it's also smeared with mud. hard and strong. it doesn't change. you still ask why a man like toji loves you.

"why did you love me, toji?" you asked him while his hands wander and pinch the suppleness of your skin. he hears the question. pulling you closer to him. your naked body pressed into his.

toji's mind ran a thousand answers for that question for that but he can only answer one. he would tell you more than he could ever say but it's only clear.

"do i need answer that? you know it." he says and knows you're not satisfied.

he cups your cheek and mud smears into it. the coldness seeping into your skin. "...for the reason that you love me." is all he can say.

deep inside, he would say. you accepted me for what i am. looked past on my flaws. treated me with care, made me feel loved. that i still deserve love and i'm worthy of it.

he keep quiet though and only kissed you with such want and need that it's the only way he can express his undying love for you. he loves you so much. wished he could stay with you like this forever. your lips, body and soul all for him and he would be the same to you, if you wished.

for the first time, toji found something worth fighting for and it's you. he couldn't be more happier.

#꩜ ⋮ shai's thirst/drabbles⸝⸝#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jjk x you #jjk x chubby reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #plus size reader

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kottekonst · 4 months

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Let's do a double for this time-to-share-another-coffee-painting-post!

Back in 2015, I made a painting of Gimli for John Rhys-Davies.

I've met him at several conventions, and he's always been a sweetheart - he will often go around the stalls before the show opens and wish all the vendors a good day, stop for pictures, and chat 🥰 He said he would frame it and put it on his wall-of-fame 😂

He's holding the original, and I brought a print for him to sign for my own wall-of-fame. A few years later, I made a new painting, which I sold at a show to someone who got it signed by John.

In all honesty, I think the second one came out so much better, even though it was a much quicker paint job 😅 A few years after that, I decided to make prints of it since John was going to attend the next convention I would be selling at. The print sold really well, so I stopped by John's table and gave him a print to keep 😁

As always - portraits were painted with instant coffee on smooth, heavyweight paper

#coffee art #coffee painting #lord of the rings #lotr fanart #lotr #gimli son of gloin #gimli #john rhys davies #tolkien #my art #my post

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suashii · 11 months

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝐸𝒟

info ⭑ itoshi rin x reader. 1k wc sfw ﾉ fluff

note ⭑ repost from last halloween :3

you’re hanging the last bat decoration from your ceiling when the familiar rhythm of rin’s knocking pattern sounds in your entryway. the bat cutout and the others around it swing wildly in the air as you rush down from your place on the arm of the couch to answer the door. your less-than-graceful descent from the furniture nearly results in a sprained ankle but you ignore the dull pain as you reach the door, turning the knob before pulling it towards you.

on the other side, rin stands with his hands stuffed in the pockets of the skeleton-print pajama pants you bought for him.

“hello and welcome to the house of horrors!” you excitedly greet him, wiggling your fingers while you step back to allow him inside.

rin fills the space you once occupied, closing the door behind him as his teal irises scan the changes you’ve made to your living room. fluffy white spiderwebs droop down from the corners where the walls meet and the top of each is lined with LED lights that are set to red. there’s a bowl of candy—way too much for two people—sitting on your coffee table beside an unopened box of pizza and a couple of glasses holding some unknown red liquid. his eyes meet yours and his eyebrows slightly, almost unnoticeably, quirk in astonishment. “you did all this for movie night?”

“hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to go to a party.” you nudge his shoulder in a silent gesture to urge him forward. when he finally begins to make his way to the couch, you follow closely behind him and continue, “so i, being the amazing person i am, decided to pull out all the stops for my horror-loving best friend.”

of course he didn’t want to go to a party; why would he want to spend the night around a bunch of drunk people he didn’t care for when he could hang out with someone he actually enjoys being around? though, he can’t say he was expecting the festive decorations. scary movie nights are a norm for the two of you and he was under the impression that, other than the halloween-themed pajamas you had told him to wear to match yours, everything would operate as it normally did.

knowing you put as much thought and effort into this one night for him fills rin with a strange sense of significance. he has no intention of telling you so though, so instead, he asks, “what are we watching?”

you hum in consideration while you reach out to grab a slice of pizza. after some thought, you turn to rin with a smile. “anything you haven’t already seen. i don’t want to be the only one scared tonight.”

your comment makes rin’s lips twitch at the corners before he picks up the remote to browse through your streaming services for a film that neither of you have watched. you veto a few and he does the same until the two have agreed on one, his thumb pressing the button on the remote to start the movie.

rin spends what he considers to be the “boring build-up” of the movie sipping on the red beverage styled as blood that he has come to learn is actually cherry juice. the film only earns his complete attention when the normalcy turns to eeriness and the tension is palpable. he’s so immersed that he can’t even tell that you’ve closed the gap between the two of you—not until he feels your hands squeezing around his bicep as you attempt to hold back a scream drawn out by a jump scare.

just as unexpectedly as your touch, rin’s heart skips a beat. he wants to question whether the jolt that courses through him is because of the jarring sound playing through the television’s speakers or something else, though, he knows that it wasn’t the former. when one watches horror movies as often as he does, they tend to pick up on the predictable patterns like the loud noise that alarmed you. what isn’t nearly as predictable is the way you’re still latching onto him, all without a word.

that’s what has him nervous—your uncharacteristic proximity.

it’s ironic, rin thinks, that the one thing that gets his adrenaline pumping, makes him freeze like a deer in headlights, is your loose grip on his arm and not the movie made to scare him. swallowing the lump in his throat, he takes a risk and glances over at you. your eyes are glued to the tv, lips parted in suspense as you anxiously await another potential scare. rin’s gaze drops to the fingers curled around his bicep and he swears he can feel his heart jump in his chest.

he blinks a couple times, discreetly shaking his head before turning his attention back to the screen ahead of him but the warmth of your hold lingers in the back of rin’s head for the rest of the movie.

he expects that the unfamiliar feelings will have faded by the time the credits start to roll but when the list of names that signal the end of the movie begins to play, rin is still hyperaware of your closeness and the peculiar way it makes him feel. his palms have never sweat nor have the tips of his ears burned in your presence before now; what the hell is happening to him?

“so.” your voice draws rin out of his head, almost making him flinch as he comes to look at you. he hopes his confliction doesn’t show on his face. “were you scared?”

he knows you’re talking about the movie but his mind only goes to one place upon hearing your question; you. the thought of falling does scare him, and not for some negative reason, but because it’s new and foreign and something he’s never felt before. so when he answers, he isn’t talking about the movie. “yeah, kind of.”

hiya it's manz :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x you #bllk x you #rin drabbles #bllk drabbles #rin fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #bllk imagines #bllk scenarios #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenarios

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tenjiiku · 1 year

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water lily / 18+

You had been avoiding Reo.

Not in the physical sense. He had seen you nearly every night in the hole-in-the-wall ramen joint the two of you had quickly deemed a common rendezvous location ever since moving to Shibuya. He had seen you many times before that: at the tender age of nine (you, three years his junior, cowering behind your mother’s legs), all throughout the melodrama of middle school and his brutal descent into manhood.

You had always been a constant in his life. But you have been avoiding him.

You have been wanting to get away — wanting more — and Reo could taste it.

A simple text of ‘6:30?’ and he is already on his feet for you. Really, he needs to be put out of his misery.

Crossing the threshold into the lively ramen bar, parting the curtains, Reo’s eyes sought you out amidst the swirling tide of guests. You sit there quietly amidst the kaleidoscope of laughter and chatter, like a delicate apparition from a half-forgotten dream.

He walks towards you. You do not even face him — do not even let him take his seat — when you start.

“There is a glare in the sky.”

“Hm?”

“You saw it, didn’t you? Where the clouds and the sun met? There was a dark line running for miles between Shibuya and Harajuku.”

Reo takes his coat off, putting it around his chair. He takes a seat next to you, and studies your features. Still donned in your work clothes — as was he — you have seemed to be growing more and more into your features: more and more enthralling, everyday.

He relaxes his eyelids, his pupils drooping when he notices your slender hands rest atop a printed receipt: two bowls of tonkotsu ramen already ordered. Reo feels his heart swell. He feels lightheaded. He has half of an idea about what you are bantering about, but he pretends he knows all of it.

“Reo-san.”

“Yes?”

“Reo-san, are you listening?”

His voice is weak when he mumbles a measly, “Yes.”

“Reo-san.”

“Mh?”

“Your fly is unzipped.”

Reo looks down. His trousers are buttoned. He looks up — at you — and the twitch of your lips is all it takes for him to know that you have caught on. It was naive of him to think you would not have.

“I’m sorry,” Reo huffs.

You only chuckle, causing a warmth to dwarf over his cheeks. He is hoping you have taken the liberty to order beers — he would not know how to explain the inevitable rose colour to bloom on his cheeks if you did not.

“No excuse?” You question, leaning your cheek on the palm of your hand, gazing at Reo with a foreign type of amusement.

Reo feels his stomach twist. He loosens his collar, cracking his neck.

“None that would make sense.”

You grin wildly, the sarcasm in your tone apparent and as sharp as a knife, “I appreciate the sincerity in your lack of care in my commentary.”

Reo looks down, a bit ashamed. Your soft hand pets his shoulder, comforting it like it is a dog. He despises how a single touch from you is enough to leave him frivolous for three business days. Often five if you touch his face.

You sneeze, making Reo look at you. You give him a toothy smile, he returns it with a tight-lipped one of his own and that is enough to make him know you are not truly angry with him. He does not think you ever had, despite him at times being deserving of it.

Your conversation continues even after being brought your food.

“So, where was I? Those clouds — they are called cirrostratus clouds. You can tell that is true by how transparent they look.”

It carries on after a couple of beers as well. Reo sighs into his mug, content with a full stomach and you by his side.

It leaves all too soon.

“You know, I have been thinking of getting married these days.”

Reo chokes at your casual statement, coughing into his half-empty mug. He wipes his mouth, turning his body towards you to make certain that you were the one who said such a thing. You only furrow your eyebrows at him, confirming his fear.

“Close your mouth. I’m serious.” You spit. Reo leans forward. He feels like he is about to fall over.

“You’re… ready for all that commitment?”

A frown paints your lips into a pout that Reo wants to take away.

“I am not sure,” you murmur. You gaze down at your tonkotsu ramen, almost as though you hoped it would start to give you a verbal solution to… whatever this was, “I guess I am just looking for something… extraordinary, these days.”

Reo’s voice is quieter than he had expected it to be when he asks you, “What is wrong with these days?”

You laugh, taking a long sip of your beer before answering.

“Oh, nothing. I rather enjoy waking up everyday to feed Yuki-chan, have the heels of my feet stepped on by high schoolers, work like a slave day and night for low bearing fruit, and meet you here whenever that is. Really, it is like heaven on Earth for me.”

Reo sighs, shaking his head as his lips slightly twitch open — amused. You have always been amusing to him. Like a cat who would often bring him dead mice to his doorstep, unannounced and unwarranted. Except, instead of dead rodents, you would tell him all of your current thoughts — which were much more sweet.

When he looks at you, dazed eyes boring a hole into his forehead, Reo feels the sudden urge to hold you. This feeling has been swelling inside him for a while. It has been getting harder to confront it.

“Don’t look at me like that. Close your mouth.” You snap.

Reo only smiles, gazing down at his empty bowl before tilting it towards your direction.

“You’re rather… expressive today.”

You seem to hear the grin in his tone.

“Reo-san,” you whine with a petulant voice, not appreciating his comment, “I want to eat and feel full — for once in my life. Do you not feel the same?”

“No,” Reo answers right away — because it was easy for him to lie, “Maybe it’s your horoscope. It is a hard month, I’ve heard.”

“Reo-san, please, I will kill you. I will.”

Reo bites the inside of his cheek at your comments. You were just too cute.

“I have decided.”

“That is wonderful,” he slightly teases, gazing at the collar of your neck with less than pure thoughts.

“I will become beautiful and marry the next person who will have me.”

All the colour that was in Reo’s face pales. The insistent chatter of everyone around the two of you ceases to exist. He looks at you, but you do not seem to notice. He sees that your hands are clenched, your eyebrows are furrowed — and Reo knows one thing.

“You… are serious.”

You turn your head towards him and nod.

“Yes.”

The idea of you leaving him for another man had always been in Reo’s mind. He has thought of himself having you. The concept had conceptualised when you were both so young — Reo did not even believe it to ever be a possibility: a manifestation of reality. All he knew was that he enjoyed your company. He would respond to your call whenever, and Reo knew the truth all too well. A cruel longing had bound him to you, an unspoken affection nurtured silently over the years — practically festering at the seams. Reo was acutely aware of the intensity of his feelings. Perhaps a bit too aware. A subtle tremor resonates within his body, bearing witness to the profound and unutterable desires that swelled within him.

He wouldn’t let anyone else have you.

“Then,” he takes your fingers, intertwining them with his larger ones and is shocked to find your expression of confusion stirring his loins.

“Will you let me have you?”

The second Reo-san implicitly confessed to you, you shot up from your chair, smiled at the waitress who’d taken your order earlier that night and you ran.

Ran where, exactly, you did not plan.

“Y/n-chan!”

Your heart stills at the sound of his voice. You are forced to stop under a deserted street lamp. Turning towards the captor who had seized your wrist, you notice his briefcase in his hand — his coat tucked between his elbows — and the concerned look on his face. It makes your heart wrench. Suddenly you are sent back to junior high-school.

You hated junior high-school.

“Do not call me that.”

When Reo flinches, you try not to let it affect you. He lets go of your wrist, and you find it absurd how a wave of guilt washes over your dazed mind.

“Let me walk you home,” Reo-san offers, because he is Reo-san who has held you even after you have cast aspersions on him after bad breakups, he is Reo-san who would buy you Pino ice cream after making you upset. Reo-san has always treated you gently, more than what you deserved.

Your lips tremble, and you look down at your feet — suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I’m good.”

A firm hand is placed on your shoulder.

“Stop being stubborn. You look like you’re about to fall over.” He chastises gently. Your brows furrow. He has treated you kindly but you are not soft. You are not a little girl anymore.

Overcome with a spontaneous fit of rage, you lift your head up and spit, “No I won’t. Leave me alone. I hate you,” before turning around and walking away.

Reo-san, a near six foot tall man, tries to discreetly follow you. You do not even know why you are so angry to begin with. You have been wanting Reo-san since the fourth grade. Perhaps it is because he has made you wait so long — and of all the places he chose to confess his feelings to you, it was at a dingy, run-down ramen joint that you had been growing terribly sick of.

Despite his years on you, Reo-san was still a bona fide idiot.

You start to feel bad when you hear his heavy breathing after passing the fifth street lamp, and you stop in your tracks. He stops near the fourth.

“Quit following me,” you murmur, crossing your arms around yourself, rubbing them to keep warm. You should have worn a coat tonight — but you bought a new sleeveless blouse and a form-fitting pencil skirt to match and you wanted Reo-san to notice.

He approaches you, throws his coat over your shoulders and turns you around.

You let him, because you are an even more of an idiot.

“Why?” Reo asks, looking down at you. You feel helpless when he pays you so much attention. It is bad for your health.

“You are being odd these days, Reo-san,” you mumble, “It is not a good look for you.”

You feel him study your features. A part of you knew Reo-san felt something for you. What exactly that was — you had been trying to wrap your head around. The way he brushes your cheekbone, the way he can’t seem to keep his eyes off your neck and shoulders, and the way you can sense the heat radiating off of him around you is enough for you to assume he feels the same way you do. The same way you have felt for him, at least.

“I can’t help it. The horoscope was bad for me as well.” His voice is deep — it travels smoothly and sends a flame to rise in your stomach.

“Leave me alone,” you murmur, only to contradict your statement by wrapping yourself further in his coat that smells of a rich cologne.

Reo-san does not listen, which makes you look up at him, into his gaze. He always listens. This must be serious for him.

“You’re warm,” he whispers, voice baritone and true.

Your knees threaten to buckle beneath you with the intensity of his stare, so you look back down — not muttering any sort of remark. Reo-san has the incredible power to render you utterly useless. He knows just what to say to get you high, and he has been leaving you there for ages.

“Let me look at you,” Reo-san’s voice cracks when he says this, which only makes yours as well. It is unbearably soft when you whine to him.

“You are being unfair.”

“I know,” he pets the side of your head, and you are practically putty in his hold, “I’m sorry. Did I upset you?”

“Yes. Very much.”

You look at him, pupils wide and unexplored. You lift a daring hand, smaller and softer than his, to scratch the back of his hair — enough to surrender him more than you. A glint of mischievous light in Reo’s eyes speaks to you : ‘I know how I can make up for it’. They seem to taunt you. You are slightly unsure if that is what they are even saying. You are beginning to hallucinate.

“We can’t.” You whisper, and you are afraid of how puny your voice sounds.

Reo cups your face now, causing you to drop yours from his head. You rest it on the nape of his neck, small huffs of cold air leaving your lips as Reo-san forces you to look up at him.

“Why?” He asks quietly — a hint of confusion and impatience blended together in his tone.

You furrow your eyebrows, trying to come up with anything that could possibly make sense. Not finding anything, you stay silent for a few moments before answering his question with one of your own.

“Reo-san, do you find me pretty?”

The beautiful colour that blooms on his face makes your cheeks warm. His cold hands melt against them. After a moment, he nods — which causes your heart to race.

“I do,” Reo confesses, “Of course — fuck — of course I do.”

You swallow your spit, squinting your eyes.

“How long?”

Reo’s eyes widen. A monsoon of emotions appears on his features — sporadically alternating between each other: surprise, embarrassment, ardour.

“I—,” he starts, he pauses — then breathlessly admits after a pregnant pause, “Third year, high school.”

At first you laugh in his face because you thought he was kidding. But when Reo doesn’t crack a smile — when his face blossoms more into its maroon colour — is when you realise he was not.

“Reo-san,” you mumble, “You are filthy.”

You hang your head down and push yourself into his chest. The speed at which he wraps his arms around you is enough to leave you at his mercy.

“For that long, you’ve loved me?” Your voice shakes when you ask, and when Reo doesn’t respond, the fire growing in your stomach reaches your throat.

A cold wind passes by the two of you. Reo’s breath is heavy and loud, it serves as the soundtrack to this abandoned street in Harajuku — where you finally feel as though you can surrender to this once inane fantasy.

He asks you, after five minutes of complete and utter silence, “Then— what about you?”

You laugh, and tears fill your eyes. Your hands turn into fists and you rest them on his chest. You would hit him, but you love him far too much.

“Reo-san, you are an idiot.” You chastise, looking up at him through sodden eyelashes. Reo’s blush darkens in colour.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” He mutters, lips looking oh-so delectable to you.

Does he ask this thinking you’re intoxicated off of one pint of beer? Your cheeks warm at the thought, and Reo-san looks down at you like he always has.

You were a fool, as well. You always have been.

“Reo-san,” you breathe, sweet and true, “kiss me.”

Reo had lived up to your request, and returned it ten-fold. He kissed you tenderly the first time because he wanted to treat you gently. When you grabbed him by his collar, sweetly murmuring ‘more’ into his mouth — he almost went mad.

It was hard to keep his hands off of you, knowing you reciprocated even a quarter of his feelings for you. He would work on that, and teach you everything he knew.

Reo closes his apartment door behind you, and is pushing you against it just as quickly.

“You drive me crazy,” he breathes down your neck, nibbling the soft skin of your earlobe. You whine beneath him, holding onto his shoulders with tender hands. His hands roam your thighs, gripping the fabric of that damned skirt that fits you like a second skin.

“You—You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of you like this,” He laughs hoarsely, stopping in his ministrations to look you in the eyes.

“Tell me.” You whimper and beg, gazing upwards at him like something straight out of one of Reo’s many stupors of you, “Tell me.”

“I’ve thought of doing dirty things to you, baby.” Reo huffs, “You want that?”

Reo's voice is laced with a potent mixture of desire. As he gazes into your eyes, he sees the reflection of his own longing mirrored back at him. His hands continue their exploration, sliding up your thighs, their touch setting your skin ablaze with electric anticipation.

“Yes,” You whimper so beautifully, clutching onto Reo’s arms tightly, “Touch me, Reo-san, p—please.”

A mischievous smile graces his lips at this, and he leans in closer, his warm breath grazing your ear as he whispers, “Should I?”

He trails his fingers along the edge of your skirt, teasingly inching it higher with each gentle stroke — eyes never leaving yours. Reo's voice lowers to a husky whisper, “You’ve been a bad girl. Trying to run away from me.”

Your bottom lip trembles, and Reo runs his thumb across it. His gaze is nothing but sinister, matching his intentions.

“I—I’m sorry,” You gasp, the pitch of your voice increasing, “I—I’m sorry.”

His hand moves to cup your face and he leans in to claim your mouth in a searing kiss. His lips mesh with yours, tongues entwining as the heat between you both intensifies. Reo's grip on your thighs tightens, pulling you closer to him, the hunger in his touch igniting a primal fire within you.

Breaking the kiss, he trails a line of fervent kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and finally finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes your lips as he nips and sucks on the tender skin. Reo relishes in the sweet sound, the melody spurs him on to explore further.

Reo's voice drips with desire, his breath mingling with yours, “I want to make you all mine. You’ll let me, won’t you, angel?”

Your body shivers at his words, desire pooling between your thighs. You nod, unable to form words as the anticipation courses through your veins.

Reo smirks, praising you under his breath while his hands sliding up your thighs, inching closer to the edge of your skirt. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he slowly lifts the fabric, revealing your cotton-covered mound. His gaze lingers there, his fingers itching to explore further.

"But first," he whispers, his voice a seductive promise, "I want to taste you."

His words send a jolt of electricity through your body, and you arch your back against the door, craving his touch. Reo drops to his knees, his hot breath fanning over your heated skin.

He has not even taken his shoes off, and is stripping you of your office heels, blouse, coat and stockings. You look across the room, and notice a photo of the two of you sitting in a delicate frame on the coffee table in the living room. Your heart swells.

Reo seems to notice your lack of attention — and lightly bites at the plush of your thigh, massaging the skin with a callused finger. You gasp, looking down and can’t help but giggle — a little nervously — and grip his hair. He smiles, and you bite your lip.

A soft moan escapes your lips, and Reo's tongue follows the contours of your inner thighs, teasingly close but never quite reaching where you ache for him the most. He delights in your desperate whimpers, relishing in the power he holds over your pleasure.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them to the side agonisingly slowly, exposing your slick and throbbing desire.

You whimper, craving his touch, “R—Reo…”

“Hm?” He breathes over your clothed pussy, sending shivers up your spine. You feel yourself twitch, and whine desperately. “What is it, baby?”

“P—Please…” you mewl, craning your head up and closing your eyes as your feeble fingers attempt to persuade him by lightly massaging his scalp.

Reo darkly chuckles beneath you, and you feel yourself grow wet against the cotton of your panties. Warm, coarse fingers play with the fabric, causing your legs to shake with anticipation. They edge the fabric away, and when the cold air hits your cunt you whine at the way Reo curses beneath his breath.

Without hesitation, his tongue delves deep, parting your folds and tasting your sweet essence.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, building the heat within you to an unbearable peak.

As you near the edge, Reo senses your impending release. He increases his pace, his mouth becoming an insatiable hunger against your core. The pressure builds, and with one final, skillful flick of his tongue, you shatter, “R—Reo… t—there!”

Reo rises to his feet, his lips glistening with your essence, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He pulls you close, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, sharing the taste of your wetness with you.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and your lips wobble. The tears filling in your eyes fall and wet your cheek, but Reo only condescendingly smiles at the sight and wipes them away with his index finger.

"I'm not done with you yet," he growls against your lips, his voice filled with raw desire.

His hands move from your thighs to your waist, the fabric of your skirt bunching in his grasp as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. With a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Reo leads you further into his apartment, carrying you towards his bedroom — every step punctuated by searing kisses and urgent touches.

As you reach the bed, Reo gently lays you down, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and unbridled desire. He sheds his button-down shirt, leaving his pants, with a quickness borne from years of longing, revealing a sculpted body.

Giggling as he practically tosses you onto his mattress, he returns the sound with a smile, and meets your lips half-way. They’re desperate against yours, hellbent on leaving their mark, almost.

Pulling away, he hovers over you — lidded eyes never leaving yours, lost in a daze. You twitch in his sheets, feeling vulnerable being only in your underwear in front of him.

"This okay, sweet girl?" he asks, his voice a raw and heartfelt plea. You nod, your eyes filled with equal parts trust and anticipation.

Reo leans down, his lips grazing yours in a gentle caress, before trailing a path of fire down your body, worshipping every inch of your exposed skin. He kisses down the nape of your neck, nibbling at the skin at times.

His lips leave a trail of heated kisses along your collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, until he reaches the peaks of your arousal. He makes quick work of discarding your bra for you and takes one of your hardened peaks into his mouth, sucking gently while his tongue flicks and swirls, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Reo continues his exploration, his lips and hands travelling lower, leaving a trail of fiery need in their wake. His fingers trail along the edge of your panties — tugging your skirt down and tossing it somewhere in the process — teasing and tormenting you with their proximity.

He leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your most intimate place, and his voice, dripping with desire, murmurs against your skin, "You're so ready for me, aren't you? I can feel how wet you are baby, how much you want me."

His words send a surge of desire coursing through you, making you arch your back in silent invitation. With a wicked smile, Reo removes your panties, tossing them aside with a hunger that matches your own. Positioning himself between your legs, he admires the sight before him, the glistening evidence of your arousal fueling his own hunger.

Reo's lips find their way back to yours, his kiss possessive and demanding. As his tongue explores the depths of your mouth, his fingers dip lower, gliding through your slick folds, spreading your wetness with every gentle stroke. A chorus of moans and sighs fills the room as he finds your most sensitive swollen clit, circling it with skilled precision.

Unable to hold back any longer, you plead, "Please, Reo, n—need you inside."

Reo's eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of adoration and unquenchable desire. Without hesitation, he unzips his pants, positions himself at your entrance, slowly sliding inside you, inch by torturous inch. The sensation of him filling you completely, stretching you deliciously, leaves you gasping for breath.

“Fuck,” he rasps against your forehead, pressing his entire body weight on top of you, “Tight fucking pussy.”

You mewl and shake beneath him, wrapping your arms around him — and claw at his back. He grunts in your ears, and you only cry for him.

“R—Reo, kiss, p—please,” you request so desperately, and he is all too willing to do so.

His cock pulses inside of your walls, and you wail as it hits that spot within you that has you seeing tears. Reo, cursing when he feels you twitch inside him, grows a newfound vigour to torture that area — hard thrusts kissing your cervix. Tears fall down your eyes, and Reo feigns pity.

“Shh, shh,” he murmurs, resting his face in the nook of your neck, “The—There — fuck — gonna, gonna make you feel all better, baby.”

His promise is only the more lewd when his idea of better revolves around bullying your weeping pussy. The squeaking of his mattress and thumping of his headboard has you gripping onto his back.

Not having any chance to escape — Reo gives you more.

You arch your back when you feel yourself rise to orgasm.

“R—Reo, r—right there, please please please,” you plead — for what exactly, you do not know — but Reo only pets your hair, like a responsible owner taking care of your needs.

“C—Come for me, baby. I—I’ve got you,” Reo moans, voice just as broken and hoarse as yours — a telltale sign that he is approaching as well.

With a final thrust, you feel yourself gush around his cock with a squeal. Reo groans, tilts your head to meet his, and presses your lips together. His warm, thick cum seeps inside of you, and your legs — locked around his — twitch with each pump of hot cum that pours inside of you.

You stay positioned like this for a moment. You whimper against Reo’s lips, and he pulls away, caressing your cheek like he did not too long ago (albeit, more innocently) under the streetlamp.

“I love you, you know?” He whispers.

Pressing your head on his shoulder, you know it is much too late to escape this. You press your lips to his neck, and sigh against his sweaty skin.

You take a deep breath, the realisation sinking in. The weight of his confession hangs in the air, and you can feel the intensity of his emotions swirling around you.

Without thinking, you lift your head and lock eyes with Reo. His gaze is filled with anticipation and vulnerability. You reach up and gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin.

"Reo-san," you say softly, your voice barely a whisper. "Take care of me."

Reo-san's breath catches, and a mix of hope and relief flickers in his eyes. He tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer, as if he's afraid you'll slip away. His voice is filled with the same tenderness he always had, and you smile when he places his hand over yours.

“Always.”

#writing #reo mikage x female reader #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #minors dni

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miss-anachronism · 4 months

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I posted something yesterday throwing my hat into the ring of Merlin and Valen relationships, and people seemed to like it! These guys are best buds to me, im glad yall see it too. It inspired me to write a little drabble, so here ya go <3 this is Valen and my (fem) Merlin, so it gets kinda specific at parts lol

…

It’s been a long day.

And as much as Valen wishes it were the easier type of long day: boring and uneventful, where he has to drag himself from task to task; it was quite the opposite. Exhilarating, exhausting, and deadly; now he was sinking into a sofa chair in the Mystical house, nursing a spiked drink and a sprained ankle.

It wasn’t even a mishap- he’d launched the attack perfectly, but that godforsaken golem had grabbed his leg at the last moment and slammed him back down into the ground. Lucius said he was lucky to have avoided a concussion. But what does Lucius know, anyway.

All this to say, the entire ordeal has left him grumpy and secluded. He’s tucked into the library, where the din of the bar can’t touch his slowly receding headache. It’s lovely in here, quiet and serene, fresh air drifting through the large open windows on the south wall. The smell of old books mingles nicely with the outside breeze, stopping just shy of being overwhelming. He would have never thought himself a library person; the one in Holistone was lackluster. But Merlin, as she often did, had flipped his conceptions upside down, and provided Valen one of his favourite spaces in her impressive library.

It’s a little ridiculous to expect privacy and solitude from a house that isn’t your own, especially one housing at least five others, but Valen still finds his every muscle tensing when he hears the library door open and close with a soft click.

He exhales slowly through his teeth, trying not to make his disappointment too obvious. He sends his farewells to his peaceful rest, and a quick prayer that whomever has entered isn’t in a talkative mood. He really doesn’t feel up to playing up the charm.

The soft pattering on the floor and the long exhale that come from behind him, however, chases those fears away. The momentary panic slips from Valen’s body, and he glances to the side, grinning when a green, eerie eye catches his gaze.

Merlin grins back at him, though she looks just as tired as he feels. “Hey, sorry. I know you’re hurt, but it’s winding down out there, and I wanted to do some research before I turn in. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Valen chuckles, “It’s your home.”

“Well, yes, but you’re my guest. And if you want me to shut up and leave you alone, say the word and I’ll be gone, no harm no foul.”

“It’s alright, Merlin,” he confirms, slightly surprised that he doesn’t even need to lie, “your company is appreciated.”

She grins at him and sets her own drink down on the small coffee table, and pulls another chair up. “Thanks, Val. I’ll keep it down, promise.”

She’s true to her word, shuffling through a few eclectically stacked books around the floor of the library before settling with three in hand. She puts the biggest one between them, and opens it up to reveal a collection of beautiful woodcuts, depicting various temples across the globe.

Valen lets out a low whistle and leans in, watching as she flips through a few illustrations, and then spins the book around to show him a full two-page print. It takes him a moment to recognize.

“The Moon Temple?”

Merlin nods, her eyes never leaving the paper. “Back in its heyday. We were talking about it, and Dolly mentioned that I should have an old book of prints in here somewhere. I’m lucky I found it so quickly.”

“How old is this book?”

“Four hundred years, give or take.”

Valen half gasps and half laughs, staring at the book in wonder. He’s shocked Merlin even has the balls to touch the thing, let alone open it.

“I can’t believe you just have ancient scripture lying around.”

“Hey, this is far from ancient,” she teases, glancing up to wrinkle her nose at him.

“You’re right, you’re right. It doesnt hold a candle to the oldest artifact in this room: you.”

Merlin sticks her tongue out at him, and Valen returns in kind, before they both return to the book.

The Moon God had been dead for a thousand years or so before this print was made, so the Temple isn’t exactly in perfect condition. Still, it’s a far cry from the decrepit ruins that it’s in today. Beautiful pillars surrounding the pouring, majestic fountains, each flaw and imperfection dutifully recorded… Valen finds himself being drawn in by the skilled execution of the print itself, scanning over the evenly spaces hatching and intricate detailing in the stonework, the water, the attention to values… it’s a beautiful recreation. Valen can even make out the carvings on the pillars themselves.

There’s a little blurb of writing at the bottom of the page, in a language Valen can’t identify. He reaches out to tap at it, stopping just shy of actually touching the book.

“Can you read this?”

Merlin hums in assent. Instead of flipping the book back around to face herself, she stands and moves over to Valen’s side of the table, kneeling next to his chair.

“It’s not much. ‘The Moon Temple, for the greatness and majesty of Nakalig the many-faced…. Cast a moonstone into the divine spring… a chance for divine lunar enlightenment…’ yeah, we know all this already.”

“It’s still interesting,” Valen contests, watching as Merlins finger drifts over the words. “You’ll have to teach me how to read this.”

Merlin scrunches her nose again. “The language is pretty dead, Val. I think you’ll only find Celestials who speak it fluently, nowadays.”

“So? If it’s spoken by Celestials, I’m sure it’s gorgeous. And mysterious. All the more reason to learn it.”

Merlin scoffs. “If you received a love letter written in the old, dead language, would you actually go on a real life date with the sender?”

“A date? I’d bed them on the spot,” Valen jokes, and Merlin throws her head back and cackles.

“Gross, ugh.” She sneers, giggling. Valen grins.

“Thousands of years old, and you still have the humour of a teenager.”

“Shut up,” she huffs, lightly punching him in the shoulder, only for her eye to immediately widen in concern.

“Ah, shit, that didn’t hurt did it? You’re hurt, I shouldn’t be jostling you around.”

“Merlin, babe, do you really think you can push me around?”

“You underestimate me! I could totally beat you up.”

“Mhmm,” Valen chuckles, taking another sip of his drink. Merlin gives him a wry smile.

“Seriously, though, you okay?”

Valen pauses a moment, taking stock of himself. Yes, his ankle still aches, but the spinning pain in his head has thankfully receded. The exhaustion still runs deep in his bones, however; he thinks if Merlin asked him to stand up, he’s simply collapse.

“I’m alright, all things considered,” he settles on, “but tired. Exhausted.”

“Hey, bright idea here! Maybe you should go to bed!”

“A genius, you are.”

“They don’t call me Merlin for nothin’.”

He chuckles. “It’s nice here. I don’t get much time to relax. And the sun’s only just setting,” he waves a hand towards the window, bathed in pinks and oranges, “let me have an hour, at least.”

“Fine,” Merlin conceded, resting her head on the arm of his chair. Dutifully, Valen proceeds to use her head as an armrest. She huffs in amusement.

They stay like that for a few minutes, Merlin lazily flipping through the book, pausing every time Valen leans closer to inspect a print. Eventually, she complains about her neck, and Valen lets up to allow her a slightly more comfortable position.

“I don’t know how to teach languages,” Merlin says suddenly, startling Valen out of his concentration, “but I think, with Hammie’s help, I could teach you a couple phrases and see where it goes from there?”

Valen blinks in surprise. “You don’t have to do that, Merlin.”

She shrugs. “I want to. Gives me something to do. If you want to, of course.”

Valen pauses, thinks it over, takes another long sip of his drink.

“…sure. We’ll see where it goes.”

Merlin nods, and flips the book closed.

“but if I’m a bullshit student, you can’t be mad at me.”

“I’ll never believe you are,” Merlin sniffs, scooping the book up and standing with a grunt. “Deep down, you’re a nerd like the rest of us, Mr. Playboy Solitaire.”

#afk journey #afk valen #afk merlin #valen #ghostie writes #my requests are still open! btw #platonic merlin and valen #they are NOT romantically involved i cannot express this enough

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66sharkteeth · 8 months

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Time for weekly thoughts!

Well BOY THAT SURE WAS AN EPISODE, HUH? That...I think most people really liked or hated it so much that they unsubscribed and downvoted the series haha (yes, that happened and yes, I expected it because it happens literally anything remotely gay happens lol).

hm... What is there to really say about this ep? I feel like moooost people got what happened between them after their conversation, but for the naïve, yes they got. uh. intimate (And you can see the rest of their night on my 18+ patreon! ;D).

In all seriousness tho, this is an ep I was equal parts nervous and excited for. Nervous bc it's always a little scary to depict... 1. openly gay relationships in media when you have more than 10 followers lol (and sure enough, had to deal w/ a few nasty comments) and 2. scary to depict unhealthy relationships because we know how the internet can be lol. Thankfully, I think the former turned out to be the only real problem and the opinions of biggots effect me far less because personally I just don't let the opinions of actual garbage get to me.

That said, I WAS excited to get to this episode because it was kind of a huge moment for Jericho's character. And I'm glad...mooost people got what was going on? Judging from the comments? There were definitely a few confused why the scion hates Claude, but most of them seem cleared up by others who 100% got it. TLDR of the entire episode is Jericho does care (a lot) about Claude deep down, but his Scion thinks its lame and weak to have human emotions like love. It's also our first time seeing Jericho not completely in sync w/ his own scion and kind of in the time out that Rex's put him in so often because they don't get along.

Anyway, good for you Claude, even if it was technically really unhealthy that you got rewarded for those actions. And good for Jericho for letting his human side indulge for a change, even if you're now in time out and took advantage of someone in a really vulnerable and desperate state. You two are terrible for each other but glad you had one good night.

Also, I want to print and hang every "Scion is homophobic" comment on my wall. They are literally the funniest fucking thing in the world to me

#weekly thoughts #city of blank #jericho #claude

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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year

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Metamorph

Part I

Pairing: art teacher!Aemond Targaryen x reader (Horror AU)

Warnings: dark!Aemond, obsessive behavior, murder, horror, yandere, kidnapping, misanthropy, general creepy stuff.

Words: 1.5k

Summary: Drawn to the artworks of one of the most esteemed artists in the city, you wish to learn from him and find out what inspires him to create his masterpieces. You have no idea how much his secrets will cost you.

P.S. Unhinged Aemond, my dear Ewan nation! No physical harm done to the heroine, though.

___________

"Are you ready?" He asks you calmly, but you can see his impatience, the way he restlessly looks at you and back at the door leading to one of the smaller studios he always keeps locked at all times. Aemond can't wait to show you something, some other paintings of his he prefers to hide from others, and you feel both intrigued and disturbed by what you will find.

He is a genius, no doubt. One of the best artists of the century, the critics say, and while your city literally consists of art studios and galleries, people speak of Aemond Targaryen with a weird reverence, and his name is constantly on the ear.

His drawings caught your attention the moment you saw them online, mindlessly looking through your feed. It was hard to explain what exactly made you stop and look at them - even after months of attending his course you still couldn't quite put your finger on it - but you saved the pictures, printed them out, and then was staring at them hanging from the wall for days like you had been hypnotized. The ones you stumbled upon first depicted all sorts of buildings, always only in black and white, overgrown with... something. Flowers, vines, some greenery that looked like flesh and bones, painted in vivid red, of course. It was sort of scary... but also sort of not. It was a work of art, not some background picture from a cheap horror movie. The architecture he chose, they way he drew it as if he was recording his own perception onto the paper, each stroke written with his style, perhaps his very soul embedded in it... It was impossible to describe it with words. One had to see it to understand.

So, you had visited a gallery where his works had been exhibited, and since then you were fully supportive of city's infatuation with Aemond Targaryen. There was no way you could stay indifferent to his art, especially considering your own desperate attempts to get better at drawing.

How could he be so expressive while mostly using just black, white and red paint? Most of the time, he wasn't even painting but drawing, making sketches, that sort of thing. And yet you were obsessively saving and printing all of his artworks you were able to spot online. Some you hang on the walls of your apartment, some - the ones that made you held your breath - you kept in a drawer like you were a dragon guarding your treasure chest. One time when your mom accidentally spotted them you literally wanted to fall through the floor. It was... too intimate for sharing with anyone. Despite the paintings and drawings showcased openly in the galleries for everyone to see, they felt like they were your great secret, your own hoard, too precious to even talk about it, less let people see printed artworks you kept hidden in the bottom drawer of your cabinet.

Who was he, the man who brought these breathtaking paintings to life, you had often wondered. How had he done it? How did he make the red paint so vivid, so expressive and yet not vulgar? How could he lay strokes with such precision, but not the same way most artists did? How did he build his compositions that they felt real and surreal at the same time? What sort of magic was that? Everyone around joked he must have sold his soul to the Devil.

When you saw Aemond for the first time, you thought the same thing because he scared the Hell out of you. First, he wore an eyepatch and had a long, ugly scar crossing half of his face. An incident from his childhood, someone whispered to you. Someone had stabbed him in the eye.

This felt disturbing and surreal, too. Stabbed a child in the eye? What the Hell? Wasn't he from some wealthy, upper-class sort of family?

Perhaps, it was one of the reasons why Aemond seemed so sullen and chilly, his only presence making the temperature in the room drop a couple degrees. Despite his obvious attractiveness, it felt like he was an alligator waiting in front of a crowd of stupid bunnies who came to admire his teeth. Didn't help he was dressed in all black, and both his skin and hair were alarmingly white like he wasn't really a human being.

A stupid suggestion, really.

He'd been through some serious shit, someone kept murmuring you in the ear as you stared at the artist, open-mouthed and frozen in place. His dad was really wealthy, but rumors had it he didn't really care about him or his siblings, and his mother was constantly on antidepressants. Then the incident with the eye-stabbing happened, but it was still shrouded in mystery even with journalists trying to dig up the truth for years. After he grew up, Aemond went to study business and started working under his grandfather. Rumours had it he made some crazy money but started hating his life, ended up having serious issues with drinking, and at one point, he suddenly left everything and disappeared.

Whatever happened then was a mystery, too, and the artists never spoke about it in any of his interviews expect for saying that drawing has saved him. Although nothing suggests he is a former alcoholic and had once been homeless thanks to the immaculate way he dresses, you thought there was something in his face that made you wonder if he actually got better. Aemond seemed... very hostile.

But he'a an artist, too, and you've found all of them weird in one way or the other.

Of course, despite the fact that you've been drawing for years, you've never thought yourself an artist. No, no, you just enjoy it as a hobby, and you're nowhere near people like Aemond Targaryen.

But when you heard he opened a drawing course for the general public, you were so frantic about getting in you swore to yourself, regardless how much it costs, you would get in. Even if you wouldn't be eating for the next few years.

Seriously, it was Aemond freaking Targaryen you were talking about. A literal King! He had been the talk of a month even in the capital thanks to his recent dragon paintings collection that was sold in an auction for a ridiculous sum of money. So what if he's scary and had this chilling-to-the-bone stare? Most successful people you knew seemed at least a little frightening. Besides, if anything, you could just drop out of class.

But if you were brave enough to apply, you could have a chance to actually see him at work.

How did his studio look? What sort of routine did he have? What kind of paint and pencils did he use? How had he gotten that amazing crimson color you were trying to replicate for months without any success? What did he use for inspiration?

Clearly, you just couldn't let this opportunity slip away. You had to try to get in.

Surprisingly, the course wasn't even that expensive, sold at nearly the same price as most other art courses as if Aemond was just like any other artist in the city. The problem laid in his way of choosing the students: he requested to see the artworks of applicants to determine whether he'd take them or not.

It nearly put a stop to the whole thing because you were terrified of him seeing your drawings. What would he think about an amateur like you? How could you even dream about coming to him instead of improving your technique first with some other, way less known artists? He was Aemond Targaryen, for God's sake.

But you knew he might never take other students again. He might even move to the capital that would give him much more than your city ever could. What if he just disappeared? It could have been your only chance to see him work.

When he accepted you along with 9 other students out of more than two hundred participants, you thought you were dreaming. How? Why would he? You were far from professional. Goodness, you weren't even planning on becoming a true artist, and it felt like you were cheating on people who did. So, how could he take you, knowing that?

Not that you were going to drop out before the start of the course. Over your dead body. You literally spent the entire week shopping for new materials even though you knew he would give you suggestions later. But how could you show him your pencils and brushes that looked like your dog chewed, ate, and then threw them back up? You'd rather jump from the roof.

___________

Alas, on the first day of the course, you stood there among other students, holding your breath as you watched the door of the studio open. Aemond Targaryen was going to teach you his art.

Part II

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond x reader #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon #yandere

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