#when i wrote short things and one shots how i longed to be able to write longer things

[kuwdora]

I've been listening to some of Tower of Swallows again and I'm currently sitting with and obsessing over these six paragraphs right now. Forever having Ciri feelings I can't articulate in an actual Post....and yet my Ciri wip gets bigger and heavier every other week.

The interior of the tower immediately reminded her of Kaer Morhen – an equally long black corridor behind the doorway, an equally endless abyss in alignment with the columns and statues. She could not understand how this chasm fit in the slender obelisk of the tower. But she knew that trying to analyze it made no sense – not in the case of a tower that sprung up out of nowhere, that suddenly appeared where nothing had been before. In such a tower, anything was possible, and you couldn't be surprised by anything. She looked back. She did not believe that Bonhart had dared – or had been able – to follow her here. But she preferred to make sure of that. The archway through which she was riding shone with a bright, unnatural light. Kelpie's hooves clattered on the floor, which started to crack under the horseshoes. Bone. Skull, tibia, ribs, femur, pelvis. She rode through the middle of a giant ossuary. She was reminded again of Kaer Morhen. The dead should be buried in the ground… How long ago was that… At that time, I actually believed such a thing… the majesty of death, respect for the dead… But death is just death. And a dead man is just a cold corpse. It does not matter where it lies, where his bones disintegrate. She rode into the darkness, under arches, between columns and statues. The darkness began to weigh on her like smoke. Intrusive whispers and soft sighs urged incantations in her ears. Huge doors suddenly flared up in front of her and opened. They opened one by one. Doors. An infinite number of heavy doors opened silently in front of her. Kelpie's hooves rattled on the ground.

[meowzcw]

I finally drew my oc A-Sans normally on here instead of kawaii doodles 🔥🔥 (By the way he stole that jacket off a coat rack like a hermit crab, that's why it's like size asgore)

(I HAD TO FIX HIM SO THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN DRAWING 😭)

Reblogs are appreciated ‼️

His/au backstory down below if you wanna read 🦟 just a warning it's not original or anything and there's obv a lot of hcs and things picked from the multiverse because why not I just made him for fun 🎉

it's missing some info but those parts are mostly from Frisk's side of things since they're what caused everything to happen 🐺

Frisk basically got trapped in the underground for 7 years since the barrier wouldn't open due to one of the souls dying out and one day they selfishly yet desperately decided to go through with a genocide route for the first time, they didn't want to but they felt as if there was no other way

Sans met Frisk in judgment hall to stop them obvi and he tried to talk them out of continuing but Sans sucks at saying the right things so Frisk continued on anyways- Frisk struck first and got him on the face and Sans in return charged up his very op everything attack which is a one shot kill (can explain in another post if anyone's interested 🌹 it's a bit long but in short Frisk hopped into the core and some things bugged out bad, including stats of some monsters) and Frisk struck him again in the last second.

They died at the same time and due to the fact Sans shouldn't be able to use a move like that he ended up glitching out of the timeline into a battle sequence like out-code where the fight couldn't progress or end because Frisk wasn't there to do any actions. While Frisk continued into the judgment hall, except Sans wasn't there and things started to glitch out when they tried to go past the area. so they were forced to give up and go back to how it was before the genocide route. Just without Sans there

Sans got stuck in there for a few months until Error accidentally opened up the area during a silly fight with Ink- which Ink swiftly ditched Error to go check it out

Sans grew paranoid after being in there for so long so he started fighting Ink the second he saw movement thinking it was Frisk, but he was even more confused when he saw someone that looked exactly like him just in different clothes so he panicked and teleported outta there. And since he had dust all over him at the time Ink obvi wanted to know what happened, so he went to go look for him.

Ink soon found him and reassured him that he didn't need to worry about anything since everyone in his AU was alive, but advised him not to go back since Frisk might try another genocide run and succeed.

Sans accepted that and took his advice, Ink then explained the whole multiverse business, AU's and such, since Sans was pretty confused. He then asked Sans for his name since they didn't do a proper introduction, which Sans decided to call himself "A-Sans" because pretty much everyone that's usually out of their au is a sans.

A-Sans took Ink's advice the wrong way and forced himself to stop worrying about anything involving his AU since everyone was alive unlike those in the multiverse that were more unfortunate. which was hard to do since he missed everyone, felt guilty for leaving them behind all miserable and such so he took up drinking to help him stop worrying about it all.

Now he just hangs around in busy areas to nap all day by himself, people avoid talking to him because of the dust on his face and assume he killed someone.

-End 🔥

Personality wise A is very laid back and friendly, usually sleepy. He doesn't hold grudges and he forgives easily if it isn't too bad. He doesn't blame Frisk for what they did, he just wishes he was able to do something sooner to help them out before they got to that state.

And sorry if I repeat things or explain it all weird 🙏 it was 11am when I wrote this and I didn’t slept a wink but Imk if you have any questions!

[xmalereader]

Tom! Peter Parker x Stark! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: I need a Itimidating Reader x Tom! Peter Parker. Like reader could be Captain American or Iron Man's son and he has been dating Peter secretly cause you know Peter is shy about things and doesn't want to make things big. So reader holds back but he had enough when one days he witnessed Thompson and other bullies doing the worst to Peter. So he does what any boyfriend will do, show those bullies their place and maybe maybe, Avengers comes and gives a piece of their mind as well to those bullies. Cause I like Avengers being a found family with them being protective of their youngest member 😭😭🤌🏻🤌🏻

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, slight angst, reader is Tony starks son, mentions of Morgan and Pepper, Ned being terrible at secrets, MJ supports, mature language, slight kissing, short shot, flash is a bully, mentions of violence, mentions of hero work, teenage love, school stuff.

TAGS: @nobodylivesson

WC: 2k

NOTES: I tried my best to suit to your request, I wrote this one late at night and was probably half asleep after completing it 🥲, but either way I hope you really enjoy it! I wasn’t able to bring in the rest of the superhero family since I didn’t know how to slip it in without going off track. But either way I love the whole superfamily fics and the concept of Stony adopting Peter ( ´∀｀) those are my comfort fics.

Peter wasn’t ashamed of who he was dating he just didn’t make it a big deal that he was dating Starks son. When Y/n joined the school he had already known him from the time that he was working at Starks internship. He’d see him around the lab either helping his father on a few side projects or just to bother Tony into leaving work and getting a proper meal and rest.

While Tony was away it left both Peter and Y/n on their own and giving them time to actually know each other. Their side conversations turned into flirting and then light touches until Y/n was the first to make the move on Peter and asking him out. Peter was a shy kid and never got the attention from people he liked nor was he good at socializing without stuttering or hesitating on his conversations.

Ever since Y/n joined Peters school the two were closer than ever and enjoyed their time together. Peter kept their relationship a secret in order to prevent the other students from finding out that he’s dating Tony Starks kid. Even if he told anyone about it they wouldn’t believe that he’s dating someone like Y/n.

It didn’t take long for Ned to find out that Peter was dating.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ned, his best friend since childhood. The reason he never told him was because he knew how terriable his friend was at keeping secrets. When he found out that he was the cities hero there were times that he almost slipped up and exposed his secret to those around him and always had to remind his friend that no one was suppose to know that he’s Spider-Man.

Ned had caught the two making out on Peters bed.

Peter had forgotten about inviting Ned over for a weekend sleepover due to him being distracted by Y/n coming over and having dinner with both him and his aunt May. After that they’ve left the table to spend time in Peters room which resulted into them making out like most teenagers would and then getting caught by Ned.

His poor friend could only stare in shock when he found out and after a couple of minutes of shock he finally started to ask them question such as; “How did you meet? When did you start dating? Are you really dating Starks son?”

The sleepover turned out to be a very interesting night for Ned.

Ned was still getting used to the fact that Peter was dating Y/n, but Tony wasn’t too happy about the fact that his son was dating Peter the kid that he chose to pass down his work to. Y/n did work with Tony but the kid was never interested in becoming an inventor or an engineer and instead focused more on things that made him feel happy. Tony never pressured his son to take over and instead accepted his goals and dreams.

Peter expected Tony to interrogate him when finding out that he’s dating his son, but instead of being asked on why he was dating his son. His question so we’re mainly aimed towards Y/n who ate in silence during their dinner together with Pepper sitting next to Tony and his sister Morgan sitting across from Peter.

“Why him?”

“Because I like him.”

“Why not some other guy or girl?”

“Do you not want me to date Peter?”

“I don’t want you distracting him from work.”

The conversation was mainly between Y/n and Tony while Pepper was kind enough to speak with Peter about school and his aunt and how they were doing, trying to keep both son and father from killing each other while having their first dinner. By the end of the day Peter became a favorite to the Stark family especially with Morgan who loved Peters attention and placed puzzle games with him winning the little girls heart over in less than seconds.

Things were going fine until the bullying picked up at school.

Flash had noticed how close Peter was being with Y/n during lunch and class hours, thinking that Peter was trying to get extra brownie points with Mr. Stark and befriending his son in order to get closer to the man. He knew that Starks kid was going to be in their school and had grown jealous by how close Peter was getting, ruining his opportunity to befriend Y/n.

When Y/n wasn’t around, Flash and his goons would quickly go after Peter. The good thing is that Peter was great at escaping and was always getting around from Flashes wrath, either running inside a full classroom during lunch hours or running outside where he’d climb onto the roof top in order to avoid Flash.

Peter never told Y/n and he never found out.

The bullying never happened when Y/n was around and whenever Flash approached them he’d always fake his emotions which Peter hated seeing. He could see through Flashes fake smiles and laughs when he conversed with Y/n, trying to act like he’s the most nicest person ever to meet.

Peter wasn’t the only one who saw through flash’s lies so did Y/n. He could see a liar from across the room and knew how they acted. He spent enough time working in his dads company to sniff out liars and had gotten very good at it.

It was the week that Y/n was suppose to work with his father on a new invention, testing them out and figuring out if they have potential to be sold to the public, but recently Y/n had joined a club with Peter and took place after school hours. He’d shoot his father a quick text that he wasn’t going to the lab and quickly rushed off to join the club in hopes of spending more time with Peter and their other members.

When entering the room he finds MJ and the other students sitting on a round table, discussing about their new plans for the club. His eyes search the room and doesn’t find Peter which makes him frown a little before sitting next to MJ. “Where’s Pete?” He whispers to her and noticed how her lips twitched into a smirk.

“Miss your little boyfriend already? Don’t you guys have all periods together?”

MJ had figured Peter and Y/n out in less than seconds when they first met resulting in Y/n befriending her. He rolls his eyes at her comment. “We aren’t always in class together…he has biology eighth period and I have history.” He mumbled out the last part knowing that he wasn’t really providing much and that he and Peter did in fact have majority of classes together.

“You guys are gross.” MJ comments with a grin on her face. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Y/n had dealt with MJ’s teasing for a long time that he’s grown used to it. He gives her a small nudge to the shoulder and focused back to the other who were still planing out this years activities within the club, writing things down and getting the teachers opinion. It went on for ten minutes at Y/n was the first to realize that Peter still hadn’t arrived which slowly started to worry Y/n. His instincts were telling him to go look for him.

“I’m going to the bathroom be back in a bit!” He tells the others with a smile before rushing out of the room and down the hall. Whenever Peter came late to the club he always told him before hand, either letting him know that its a spider thing or perhaps his aunt needed him he was always made aware until now.

He didn’t get anything from Peter and started to get worried as he searched the hallways. They were packed a few minutes ago with students getting ready to head home and now the halls were half empty with a few students lingering around and either attending their own club's or waiting on a ride or friend.

As he rounds the corner he noticed a small crowd of students up ahead, raising a brow as he decides to make his way over. It doesn’t take him long to recognize that familiar beat up backpack that Peter always carried. He’s told Peter many times that he could get him a new one since the one he had was already tearing up, but Peter always declined his offer since he wanted to be the one to earn it and claimed that his bag was still in ‘perfect’ condition and survivable.

The sound of someone colliding into the lockers makes him walk faster to the point where he’s jogging over and finding Peter with a pained look on his face. “Trying to win yourself another internship, Parker? One wasn’t enough?” The sound of Flashes voice gets Y/n’s attention.

Noticing the state that Peters in makes him frown.

“You’re always following Y/n around like a puppy, I bet he’s finding you annoying by now. He should hang around someone who isn’t boring.” Said Flash while Peter glared up at him and tried to get back up without being kicked down by one of his little goons again, before Flash could saying anything else a fist connects with his check, startling everyone when he stumbled back in shock.

“Hey—What the hell!?”

Flash had a hand against his bruised up cheek and turns to see who was responsible only to freeze in place when his eyes land on Y/n who was huffing angrily at him. He’s standing in front of Peter in a protective way while glaring at Flash. “Touch my boyfriend again and I’ll make sure to break your nose this time.” He speaks up.

His words catch everyone by surprise, but was surprises everyone is the fact that Y/n and dating Peter.

“Boyfriend?!”

Y/n smirks at Flashes shock. “Yeah and I love his annoying ass.” He points over his shoulder to where Peter is getting back up and blushing deeply by his words, wanting to roll his eyes. Once Y/n finishes his threats and Flash and his little goons run off he’s quick to turn around and face Peter. His angry expression quickly fading into one of worry as he approached Peter and quickly checks him. “Are you hurt anywhere did you break anything? I swear to god if he did I am going to fu—“

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Peter is quick to cut in, chuckling a little before placing his hand on Y/n’s wrist and pulling his hands away form him, reassuring him that he’s fine. “Did you forget? I can heal pretty quick.” His words cause Y/n to pinch his shoulder. “You idiot! I don’t care if you can heal I was worried for you, why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”

“Because I can handle my own battles.” Peter mumbled in response which didn’t make Y/n any happier. “That doesn’t mean that you have to do them alone,. I mean what if something happened to you? Who was going to know or help?” He continued to rant out to Peter, pouring out his own feelings and frustrations towards Peter being a stubborn person.

Once he’s ranted and calmed down he placed his hands on Peters shoulders. “Please, tell me when something like this happens again. I won’t hesitate to punch Flash again.”

Peter slowly smiles and laughs. “Can’t believe you punched Flash, I always wanted to do that but never had the guts too. I was afraid that my strength would probably kill him.”

“Yeah, well it felt great doing it he was a pain in my ass.” Peter laughs at his boyfriends words. It was satisfying to see Flash getting punched and the look of surprise when he found out that they were dating each other.

Peter looks up to Y/n. “Flash knows about us and knowing him he’s gonna tell the entire school.” He was growing nervous at the idea of everyone knowing that he’s dating Starks kid only for Y/n to pull Peter into a quick kiss and smiling at him. “Let him tell everyone at least I can kiss you whenever I want without hiding it.” Peter admired Y/n for being so calm during situations like these.

“Think we should get to our club meeting?” Said Peter.

Y/n smiles with a nod. “Yeah, come on you were missing out on the fun plans we were making.” He takes Peters hand into his own and heads down the hall feeling better now that he’s able to hold Peters hand without needing to keep their relationship a secret anymore.

[skatazz]

Fantasies fulfilled (Jeon Jungkook one shot)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook & Reader (y/n or you isn’t used in this!)

Date posted: April 4th, 2025

Warnings: kissing, swearing, oral (m), slapping of d!ck onto tongue, dirty talking, slight size kink (big d!ck), caught red handed turning into a learning that her man is just as she imagined about, fingering (f), spanking, dom jungkook, aftercare.

Genre: Boyfriend!Jungkook x F!Reader (many other nicknames are used instead of y/n)

Context: Things become a little frisky after Jungkook walks in on his girlfriend writing back a filthy smut reply to her role play partner to which she accidentally wrote her precious boyfriend’s name who is very lovingly in bed so he decides to take matters into his own hands of making those fantasies real.

Word count: 3,352 words

Rating: 18+ Mature

Author’s note: hi hi, this is my first time posting a short fic in over years, p.s. I used to write on wattpad but it was when I was like 12-14. sooo this is definitely more improved, this is a little different beginning than other fics that i’ve read so hopefully all goes well & I hope you enjoy what i’ve wrote! I’ve been working on it for a while because I was doubting it a bit. Hopefully this looks neat enough too, I was browsing through many to make sure that I have written down for description before we get into it!

She was too occupied typing away in her computer to realize that she had a presence in her room as she was simply getting back to a quick reply to a role-play partner online, she figured she had time as Jungkook was in the shower. He watched her movement as she was on her laptop playing music on one tab and typing away on another, it was a very long conversation that was going on too- he didn’t want to intrude but he was curious, who was she texting this late at this hour? He was intrigued nevertheless hence why was it so lengthy and had so many characters, he slowly tipped toed over as he leaned over to read it as he had to reread the words. They caught him by surprise, the words weren’t innocent whatsoever as he held back a hastily gasp- not wanting to get caught red handed but he was unsure on what his girlfriend was doing.

Was she so innocent as he thought she was? They’ve had intimacy before but nothing in the way that she was describing in her text right now and he had no clue on how he was able to not move a muscle, he felt sweat drip whenever she stopped to think for a moment but went back to typing again. She was definitely hiding something else within because she was typing away like nothing as if she had other desires that he had no clue about, it made him boil within- he pondered; why didn’t she tell him? The towel around his waist was getting snug as he debated for a second on how to go about this, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries as this seemed personal as well- he wasn’t that guy.

She was incredibly indulged into her writing as she couldn’t help her mind slipping away for brief moment, she was writing about a different character but she was distracted that her fingers typed ‘Jungkook’ instead of the other character that she was writing for; she didn’t even realize it yet. The way she was describing the scene that she was imagining about was about her boyfriend instead, she wondered what was taking him so long? She so desperately missed him as she quickly faced reality when she clenched her thighs together with a soft sigh that she didn’t know would send Jungkook over edge, he was watching her expressions without her knowing as she then proofread it and noticed her mistake. She tsks at herself because she knew that only herself knew that she was fantasizing about her lover instead, she needed to escalate the issue as she soon sent out her reply. It was then she shut off her laptop and moving forward to the edge of the bed, turning her attention to face a intrigued Jungkook- his expression was written on his face and those eyes that was sinful said it all that he was indeed peeking at her work. He needed her and that small action she did; was all the confirmation he needed.

She found herself taken back that she didn’t notice him for however long he was standing there and he was half naked with a obvious print showing through the towel that showed intention prompting action that she could engage in. However she was a little embarrassed because she desired to know how much did he read? how much did he see? Only she could cough it off with nothing to say to which he cocked his head at her, yes it was a very promising proposal at the sight of him as there was mere water droplets down his chest to his stomach and the way his skin shined through from it all, his biceps looked amazing as well. He knew that she was caught red handed and her shyness had shown through, he lightly hummed as he shook his head with a light chuckle,”Oh Honey, if you wanted me so bad.. you could’ve taken action with me in the shower, I wouldn’t have said no.”he says as he moves forward, his hands making place onto the bed on the sides of her body. He made sure to lean his face down to her as he moved aside her hair from her shoulder as he kissed her neck delicately and then to her ear,”You surely didn’t have to write such naughty stuff about me too, I am all yours..unless you’re afraid to take action into more sexual pleasure within our lovemaking. If you wanted me to be more firm than the usual get go, take charge and show me what you want. Show me how you want to be desired and i’ll give it to you just right bun.”

She couldn’t deny his presence nor his statement, she loved him so much in that area of him always making sure she was fulfilled in every section there was in their relationship and there was no doubt that he was the man of her dreams. Her eyes switched back and forth between his body was so huge compared to her own and those doe brown eyes that she had grown to love, she needed him and she was willing to try new aspects of their sex life hence of her current desires lately. She wanted to be tested beyond her own limits as they usually were quite lovable when intimate, there was nothing wrong about it but she so desperately wanted to be fucked in ways she couldn’t imagine about and she also wanted to see another side of her lover.“Alright if you are so desperately interested in being more firm and because you are so loving, I really would like you to show me all those hidden desires as well.. I know for sure that you can fuck me in various ways under an hour so give it to me big boy. Fuck me good and make me beg for it, I want to see another side of you,”she moves her hands around his neck to pull them back onto the bed as her lips goes on a hunt to interlock with his.

Their lips moved together with such intensity and passion that it soon led with their tongues dancing with another, exploring each other as if it was the first time. Jungkook’s hips made movement on his own against her own hips, creating a friction that made a ripple effect of her moaning softly inbetween their heated kiss- she felt like electric. Her whole body felt like she was fire, she matched his movement by crashing her hips as well against his trying to chase down the feeling of pure pleasure. She moans out softly against his lip finally parting their tongues away, a trail of silva was shown from it as she shudders at the feeling. She softly whispered,”How much did you read? Did you read all of my words that was me fantasying about the possibilities of what you could do to me? Of how I want you to take control of me and break my state of mind due to how much you’ll be pleasuring me?”she looks into his eyes that were usually doe like, there was nothing innocent when she stared into his eyes, it was completely lust filled that made her caught her breath in her throat.

“You are… so naughty my love, I didn’t know that you had that in you. What’s been keeping it a secret for so long, huh? You really think that I couldn’t have handled you in the ways that you need to be treated and what you so desire?”He spoke out in a demanding tone though it wasn’t cold at all, it was said like a statement along with the way his voice carried throughout him- he was serious. “I’ve read.. every single thing that you wrote down about me..” his hands trace over her body over her clothes before diving his hands under her shirt to caress her breasts in need to feel her body, his fingers touching and pulling gently her nipples. He did it with such ease and slowly to tease her so that she will realize that he can give her what she needs in anytime of desperation for him and his touch. She was becoming full aware of his touch and his stare, he could indeed fulfill her needs that she desired that she was too stubborn to speak out about. She responded to his touch just the way he knew she would, caving into it and her body was heating up by each second of his hands exploring her body then moving lower.

Jungkook tugged at her bottoms in a teasing manner but did no attempt at taking them off, he would instead feel her arousal through her thin silk shorts as he leaned in to nip at her earlobe. “..I think that you shouldn’t get such special treatment right away.. You were being very naughty with what you were doing, typing away in secret hoping you wouldn’t get caught,” he tsks as her stomach twisted and turn at the sudden change within her boyfriend, it a-taken her back but she was turned on by it. She looked into his eyes pleading as she moves her hips against his hand for more relief on her end but it only caused his eyes to squint at her, tsking once more before pulling his hand back. “You are not being a good girl sweet girl, don’t know if I should even say those nicknames since you like to keep dirty secrets to yourself that even included me in,” he sighs softly as if hinting the words, ‘What am I going to do with you?’ Deep down in her heart she knew that he was showing her a completely different side of himself and it was plain obvious if she looked deep into those brown boba eyes that is her lover, he wouldn’t take things too far if she showed any sign if uncomfortable.

Standing up and away from the bed as he snaps his fingers at her to drop down to her knees in front of him, she slowly pulls herself out of the bed and obeys him. He shakes his head with a small tug on his lip but not quite enough as he starts to unravel his towel from his waist and onto the bed, she watches eagerly for the reveal. It never failed to impress her by his length but this time was a whole different setting and vibe, she could feel herself pool in her panties and she clenched her thighs together for warmth. He was so huge that adjusting always took her some time. Jungkook caught onto it right away as he was eyeing her reaction, taking her chin into his hand as he looks disappointed, ”None of that. I’ve said that you aren’t getting special treatment to take care of yourself, you’re just going to have to wait. Now suck me up to make up for it.” Not being able to deny him or his words, she takes hold of him in her hands and into her mouth slowly and gently. Once she grew more accustomed and confident was then she picked up the pace wanting to please him, he placed a hand behind her head but not pushing any further as he followed her motions.

She was eager to take him fully to reach his own pleasure to which she started to slow down so he could take charge of this opportunity and he caught on to it quick. He wasn’t too pleased at her pace so he started to take matters into his hands, literally. He stifled a small groan as he thrusts his hips forward, bobbing her head down at the same time, fuck her throat was amazing. She would always send him over the edge by being her and that was all he needed but now it was his time to do the same, they kept going at this for a bit before he drawls back for her to breathe. “Open,” she did as told then he takes ahold of his thick promising length before slapping it straight onto her tongue catching her by surprise, he also took note of her clenching her thighs together. A small dark smirk finds its way up his lips as he groans out approvingly, ”mm, you like that sweet naughty girl?” he just kept going with teasing her as he would gently move his hips sliding into her mouth then back to slapping his dick on her tongue. She could only hold herself up by her hands for balance as she whimpered when he entered her mouth once more before pulling away, leaving her mouth feel empty. She could get used to this, the way he was talking and how the glimpse in his eyes were nothing but filth, she needed him desperately but he just kept on going on with using her mouth for his own benefit.

She had no problem with it as she felt how urgent he became to which soon brought his release into her mouth, he twitched against her tongue as she moaned at the warmness salty yet sweet taste of him. It was overpowering as he didn’t stopped his moves, no, he was very needy as he held a small movement of his hips thrusting into her mouth as she could only breathe through her nose to grasp hold of this reality. Her eyes rolling back as his fingers tangled into her hair with a mess of moans from his lips, it was close to heaven. Eventually he let go after she swallowed most of it, the rest running down her chin brought the first smile during this interaction as he used a clean rag near by to clean her up. He had released again right afterwards due to his non-stopping movements but she wasn’t complaining, she wanted to make him feel good.

Caressing her hair as he held eye contact with her, he was contemplating if whether or not to continue this tango which would probably lead down to them aligning with one another but she couldn’t get off that easy due to her actions. No, he needed to show her that he was truly worth it and she didn’t need to fantasy about or writing and hoping that her sex fantasies happened in real life- he would fulfill those desires. He needed to show her that he was everything and more, that if one acts naughty there’ll be punishments. She had blissful eyes as she thanked him for cleaning her up, Jungkook helped her up to her feet as he turns them around and onto the bed. She found herself onto his lap spread out on his thighs as she softly gasped, his hand finding its way onto her cheeks caressing them generously. His hands were warm and gentle overall as he was careful and sweet in his touch before he tugged her shorts and panties off in one swift motion before his hands back onto her cheeks.

“Gonna need you to count with me bun.”

A small swallow was barely audible as she agreed in a nod, her excitement didn’t die down as she knew she was on full display- it enticed her further. She wanted this.

A hard smack reached onto her right cheek, a small sting yet it was addictive. “One.”

Snack!“Two.”

Another smack with a small muffled noise from her, Jungkook rubbing the spot lightly as his eyebrows arch up looking at her. “Three,” it took her a second to say it but she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Smack! “Four..”

This went on until it reached count of 10, he leaned over to kiss her very red ass cheek then his fingers pressed against her heat lightly teasing. Then he slipped two fingers into her with ease due to their fun action beforehand, such an easy thing to get worked up about- he barely touched her and she was this wet. He felt the mess dripping down his fingers as he lightly hummed in delight, she clenched in response as she softly moaned encouraging him. “Need you to be more vocal bun, tell me how good it is,” he says speeding up the pace tightening up as she did as was demanded, she really liked this side of him.

The commanding and dominant side, she needed more of him- she began to cry out his name as she started to reach her peak of her climax. “It is so good Jungkook! keep going please!” He did as asked before a wave of tears and pleasure overwhelmed her as he was quick and attentive, paying attention to the way her body reacted and inched under his weight as he spread her legs apart more access as he praised her. “That’s it baby, cum on my fingers and i’ll clean you up,” he whispers into her ear, moving hair away from her face as his eyes were still locked onto her expressions.

Jungkook was more than pleased when she came into his fingers as he couldn’t help but groan, his sweet girl feeling him twitch and harden against her stomach. She inhaled and exhaled heavily when she came but it didn’t stop his actions as she bit her lip back in reaction, her body twitching as it was overwhelming but not in an unpleasant way. He wouldn’t push her past anything that made her uncomfortable, she held onto the side of his thigh and leg as he edged her onto another climax. She felt like she was walking on clouds when she reached her peak as she felt herself slipping even more if possible and becoming fully undone.

With a gentle placement of his hand onto her back trailing to under her stomach to help her adjust, he lifted her into his lap this time as he made sure that she was watching when he spread apart his fingers showing the slickness around his fingers. She squirmed slightly with a blush creeping onto her cheeks, she leaned back against his chest as she lightly caught ahold of her breath. He knew exactly how to make her squirm, having her in the palms of his hand. “Well you definitely showed me kook,” she whispers out, rubbing herself against his member while her hands place each side of his thighs propping herself up as he groans softly in reply but after a few moments he stops her movements. “What? I can’t play around some more?” which got a chuckle from him, he sighs softly as he rubs her lower stomach near her heat as he shakes his head. “It’s not that, I just want to take care of you for being so obedient.. let me run you a bath so you can feel more at ease and clean,” he kisses her cheek to her neck gently, ”If you’re still up for it afterwards then we can talk more about it.”

“Mm, I totally am up for you cleaning me up. Thank you kook,” she says softly as she turns her head to interlock their lips together. After a moment later, he helps her out of the bedroom into the bathroom as she does her own business by cleaning herself up somewhat as he gets her bath ready for her. She really appreciated it as she didn’t expect any less as Jungkook always took care of her, treating her like a princess. When the water was all set along with bubbles and the candles that were kept in the bathroom were lit, she tiptoed over to him, hugging him from behind as she left tiny kisses along his back to his neck then kissing his face. “You are so wonderful baby, thank you for doing this. I’ll make it up to you Tomorrow,” a cheesy smile plasters on his face as he helps her into the bath gently. “Oh yes you will bun, I am counting on it. I will always take care of you no matter what.”

all rights reserved to @skatazz no translations allowed. no reposting. not on here or any other platforms. all works belong to me.

None of the photos I used are mine, I only made the collage! I get my images off of pinterest & check if they say don’t reupload or not.

banner credits to @cafekitsune

Please let me know if someone isn’t credited properly or if I missed anything to my warnings/tags!

@somisarchive @iamsnart

[hey-august]

March Madness Event - Winner (NSFW | Buggy X Marine!GN!Reader)

Woah woah woah, this story concludes the March Madness event!

(In case you missed it, throughout the month of March I posted polls pitting kinks against kinks. The ones that lost in the polls received short stories involving a bit of failure. The kink that won at the end of the month was slated to receive a proper story. And that's where we are now!)

I'll be honest, I did not expect this to be the winner. Then again, I should have seen it coming with how it took off in every poll it was in.

Thank you all for participating! Voting, reading, commenting, liking, reblogging - everything!!

I hope you enjoyed this event and that you enjoy this story. 🩷

Description: As a Marine, you're responsible for safely escorting the captured prisoner, Buggy the Clown. Things don't go according to plan and while the prisoner remains captured, not all of him ends up behind bars...

Teeny tiny teaser: "This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others."

Word count: ~3.4k (I don't remember the last time I wrote a one-shot this long 🥴)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, marine!reader, no use of Y/N, insertion sex, bit of degradation, cockwarming (not solely intimate, but there is some eventually), misuse of devil fruit powers

“I can fuck you harder if you uncuff me,” he said through gritted teeth. “C’mon, tell me you don’t want that.” 

The teasing remark was hissed behind your ear, sending a shiver through your body. Your weak fucking body, nearly wiped of all self-restraint. A thin thread of rationality kept you tethered to a sense of preservation, but the constant pounding threatened to snap that hold.

You were responsible for locking up the prisoner - a duty you’ve fulfilled many times without issue. Over the years, your strength and cleverness helped you climb the ranks of Marines, yet this was the first time you failed to complete this responsibility. Well, you haven’t failed yet, but the more the thread frays, the more your legs shake, the more his heavy grunts fill your ears…

Your shaky hands gripped the seastone cuffed wrists wrapped around your body. Although the pirate couldn’t grip your hips the way either of you wanted, he was able to pull your body towards his as he relentlessly slammed himself in you. 

Of all the captured criminals you ever escorted, it was the goddamn clown that broke you. The pathetic clown with a face of smeared paint. Left behind by his crew. A captain who was visibly crestfallen when none of the Marines appeared impressed by his presence.

Despite his circumstances, the prisoner - Buggy the Clown - lived up to his namesake. Nearly every comment out of his mouth was a joke, often at the expense of anyone around him. The lack of laughter after each quip should add to embarrassment and pity for the clown, but you found yourself enjoying the amusement he was clearly creating for himself. It was…endearing.

As his sole escort below deck, his attention quickly turned towards you and the warm fluttery feeling you had moved lower in your body. Silence only protected you for so long before your face was too red to ignore, giving the clown encouragement to continue. Changing tactics, Buggy started spouting cheesy and overused pickup lines. Each remark said with unabashed enthusiasm added to the heat on your face.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.” “I’d like to report a crime. My breath was stolen.” “That Marine uniform doesn’t look so bad on you. But it would look better on the floor.”

Those comments were so stupid and worked so well. A few hissed retorts and threats of punishment were disarmed with a charming smile. You had no chance of winning whatever this game was. Secretly, you weren’t sure you wanted to win. There was something alluring about this pirate who tried to hide behind jokes and laughter that you wanted more of.

Arousal easily increases in potency when mixed with other feelings. For you, it was unexpected affection and the lure of degeneracy. For Buggy, you assumed it was the fear and anxiety that comes with imprisonment. Each concoction was perfectly portioned and all it took were choice words, overly-familiar touches, and curious glances for the poison to take effect.

Alone in the room, it only took seconds to pull your pants low enough to grant Buggy access. You leaned forwards, steadying yourself against the wall, while he grabbed the lower hem of your top. His thrusts were erratic and sloppy as he tried to find a decent pace. There was barely enough time for this moment of guilty indulgence and you both wanted as much from it as possible.

Bringing his bound hands overhead, Buggy pulled you close to his chest until you were wrapped in his hold. With his hands closer to your hips, he was able to move both of your bodies at a quick tempo. He was rewarded with a whine that escaped your heavy breathing.

“S’that how you like it? Hard and rough? I didn’t expect you to be so fucking filthy. Do all your prisoners get welcomed like this?”

Fuck. Why did his voice sound so good? And why did it sound better saying such degrading shit?

You shook your head and leaned into his touch, wanting to feel more. “Sh-shut up. Don’t you ever stop talking?”

“You d-don’t want that,” Buggy groaned. “I can feel your body squeeze when I talk. You like it.” His teasing was met with a delicious whimper.

Every word from his mouth had your head spinning. You wanted so much more. You wanted to taste his voice, to feel his mouth against yours, to feel his lips on your skin, but he wore that stupid face paint. You wanted his touch everywhere, for his hands to roam your body, for him to hold you tighter, but he needed to keep the cuffs on. Buggy was a Devil Fruit user. He was dangerous. And he was breaking you down.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Buggy started describing all the ways he wanted to screw you. How good you are at taking him. He wants to hear how good he makes you feel. Lost in the haze of lust, you barely remembered pulling out the key you wore on a chain and had tucked under your clothes. Your palm ached from how tightly you gripped the key while fighting against the horny instincts crowding your body.

You were so close, so achingly close. Maybe if you timed it right, it would be okay. You could minimize the danger. That makes sense, right? It could work. The wisp of rational thought faded away so softly that you didn’t miss its absence.

“Please,” was all you could get out as you unlocked the cuffs and let them fall to the floor.

It was like you released a feral animal with that decision. You didn’t realize just how much the seastone had sapped from Buggy until you felt his bruising grip as he brutally slammed his hips into yours. Even his cock seemed to get harder as it was bullied deeper in your body. He struggled to stay quiet, grunting like a wild boar as he rut into you.

You were on the edge of the precipice, ready to throw yourself over the ledge, when a horrible sound yanked you back to solid ground. A piercing siren sound filled the ship, signaling the top of the hour and a change in duties. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You needed to finish your job before anyone found out what you were doing. Who you were doing.

In a panic, you elbowed the pirate and spun around. “They’re gonna catch us,” you said with wide-eyes.

With all his blood below the belt, Buggy was already caught off-guard by the loud noise. Your rapid change from a whimpering needy thing who needed to be railed, to a Marine who wanted to follow the rules was a lot for the pirate to follow after losing the trail of his own orgasm. All he could do was struggle to pull up his pants as you shoved him into the jail cell and locked him in. Thoughts slowly returned to his head and weakness seeped back into his body as he watched you fix up your uniform before freezing.

“What the fuck did you do?” The question started as a shout before you restrained the rest of your temper.

“I wanted to make sure you come back for me,” Buggy responded with a wink. “Besides, we didn’t get to finish. I figured you could keep it warm for me until the encore.” He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, which was baggier than it should be.

“Are you fucking ser-” The rhetoric question was stopped by the throbbing in your body. 

Between your body fully accepting the rough fuck and the whirlwind of anxiety about being caught, you didn’t notice that Buggy left you with a piece of himself. Of all the things he could have done with his Devil Fruit powers in that moment, rather than doing something, anything, that could help him escape, the clown chose to part from his dick. What a fucking joke.

---

It was a sunny day with just enough of a breeze to keep the sails full and to blow away excess heat from the sun. The gentle wind helped dry the perspiration on your skin as you crossed the deck, towards the meeting room. While the air carried away some of the physical evidence, your body still burned and you chose to believe the unrelenting heat was shame. Punctual attendance was critical on the ship and you couldn’t even spare a few minutes to evict the pirate’s privates without risking a penalty.

With each step, you felt the fullness between your legs and the stretch from his girth. You couldn’t remember what it meant to walk normally. Every movement was over thought and analyzed. What felt normal made your core feel too tight against the intrusion. Longer strides had you worry that he might slip out. While it seemed unlikely (all of this was unlikely already), you worried about losing this bit of Buggy. There would be no reasonable way to explain a lone penis anywhere on the ship.

As hard as you tried to be upset with Buggy’s stupid horny decision, your body was still flooded with hormones that drowned logic and only allowed obscene thoughts to float. You were deep in a fucked up situation and you were enjoying it.

You arrived just in time for the meeting to start. It was a daily check-in where attendees would recite numbers and metrics that meant nothing to you. It was important and wholly unnecessary. The returning sheen of sweat and lingering redness on your face could be excused as the hustle needed to arrive on time and not the throbbing you felt inside. 

Settling into one of the open chairs, you couldn’t find a position that was remotely comfortable. There was minimal padding on the wood chairs and the backrests were at an awkward height that provided no support. Leaning too far one way pushed Buggy further inside and you just barely concealed the discovering gasp as a deep breath. 

Crossing your legs was a terrible idea, as it only added to the unforgiving pressure. The sensation attacked you both, as you felt the confined cock flex in its warm prison. You quickly uncrossed your legs, glad no one could see how they shook under the table.

Wicked voices began whispering to you, talking over the droning presentation at the head of the table. You couldn’t find any reprieve from what you were feeling. The only thing that made you feel better was giving in. You could afford to let your mind drift, this meeting was only to make others feel important. You had your own feelings to deal with.

Your mind wandered down to where those feelings radiated from. To the frustrating ache between your legs. Buggy was a good length, on the longer end of average, but his thickness was far more than average. Thankfully he got you so riled up earlier and all you had to suffer through was a burn that he quickly fucked away. Your body had grown accustomed to the wideness, but being held open for so long was different. Even through the uniform, you felt exposed. With each twitch from your hole as it fruitlessly tried to find some give against the occupant, you fell apart a little more. 

You shifted in the chair again, cautiously rolling your hips with the movement. Just once. And then again, under the guise of trying to get comfortable. Fuck, that did feel good. Your body shifted against Buggy’s member just right. You tensed against him, chasing that sensation, and receiving a heavy throb in response.

Your name broke through the fog you willingly got lost in. Your eyes snapped to the man standing at the head of the table.

“Is there something more important than going over these reports?” 

Maybe your movements weren’t as subtle as you thought.

“No, Sir. Just trying to get comfortable. I apologize for the distraction.” You spoke loudly, overriding the quiver hiding in your throat. 

Buggy was reacting to the jolt of tension that ran through our body. Clenched fists pressed into your knees and your toes curled in the little space available in your boots as you rode out his movement. It was incredibly frustrating and absolutely embarrassing. So why did it feel so fucking good?

---

The rest of the meeting ended without further incident. At least, as far as any of the attendees cared. For you, every action and reaction from either of your linked bodies felt like a whole new event to survive. You offered a tight lipped smile to everyone as they left the room, preferring a small audience when you attempted to use your weak legs. Luckily, horniness and adrenaline held you up and supported you out of the room.

The infirmary was a few doors down and it was around the time the doctor took a break. If you were lucky, the room would be empty and you could put an end to this. The luck was debatable when you opened the door to two pale faces. One belonged to the Marine who was on guard duty and the other belonged to the prisoner being guarded. A prisoner who offered you a small smile that matched the one painted on his face.

The guard started babbling when you entered the room. “H-he doesn’t look good, r-right? I brought him h-here, but they’re all on break. I’m wor-worried he’s gonna upch- upchu-ugh, pu- v- vom-”

“Get sick?”

The guard nodded with pursed lips, struggling to hold back the hiccups and sympathetic heaves that wracked their body. “Doesn’t seem ser-serious enough to call the med-ugh medics b-back.”

You looked at Buggy, trying to assess what was going on. Was this a ploy or was he actually ill? Were you going to get sick? 

“It doesn’t look that serious. I can stay with him. Why don’t you go lie down?” Your offer was accepted before you even finished speaking. 

The infirmary door closed, leaving you and Buggy in an awkward silence. He sat in a chair, hunched over, still giving you a weak smile.

“Are you okay? Is it bad?” You asked, concerned that his flashy self seemed to be affected. Crouching down, you brought yourself closer to his level.

“Bad,” he repeated hoarsely, leaning towards you. 

His trajectory would bring his painted forehead to the white shoulder of your uniform, so you intercepted. Pressing your head against his, you waited for Buggy to continue. 

“N-need you. Made a bad decision, need you, please.” One of his cuffed hands pawed at the empty space where his dick should be. 

With his strength and stamina taken away during imprisonment, Buggy’s self-inflicted secondary imprisonment was too much. He could feel everything - how your body continued to struggle around him, how warm you were inside, how you reacted to his involuntary cries and demands for more. It felt so fucking good, so deliriously wonderful, and downright torturous.

There was no end in sight, though. There had to be a reason you kept him inside, so even if Buggy could come, it would be followed with overstimulation that could go for who knows how long. Not to mention how upset you would probably be if you were unexpectedly full of his hot cum. 

Buggy whimpered at the thought. At imagining you full and plugged. Of his jizz dripping out and collecting in your underwear. Of you being an absolute fucking mess under your prim and pristine uniform, because of him.

“Please,” he whined again.

You pulled away and locked the door. “We don’t have a lot of time. Again.”

Buggy bit his lip as you held out your hand to help him up and blubbered what sounded like, “thank you.”

You understood how he felt. So insatiable that nothing mattered more than giving into these desperate needs that aggressively grew out of desire. Giving up on everything but chasing the high, you uncuffed Buggy and undid your pants. 

This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others. You shoved his hand down your pants, letting him feel how wildly aroused you were. How much of a mess he made.

His groan was laced with delight and pain at the knowledge. His touch was everywhere, committing all of the evidence of your lust to memory. As his hand crept further, it came in contact with his base and his body jolted at the touch. This was too much.

Yanking his hand out of your pants, Buggy rushed to unbuckle his and expose where his member belonged. Following his lead, you pulled your pants down and turned around. Wary about wasting precious time, Buggy pressed his hips against yours and shuddered when his cock returned to its rightful place. It felt as if his senses increased a hundredfold now that it was back.

“M’close,” he warned, struggling to set a reliable pace. 

Honestly, he was about to explode when his hand was down your pants. But he needed this. He needed to feel you moving on his cock. To feel your body react against him. To feel you explode.

As if reading his thoughts, you grabbed his hand and pushed it down. You didn’t need much. This entire time, you didn’t need much, apparently. Just his attention on you was enough to pull you off the trail you were on. And that’s what he gave you - his enthusiastic attention. 

His hand moved fervently, following the cues your body gave. The touches that had your breaths teeter on moans, pressure that had your body clench his, sensations that increased the tension in your core.

“Uh-haah, uh-huh, just like that. K-keep going, g-gonna… You’re gonna make me c-” You were cut off as the feeling ripped through your body, sharp and electric. The words in your mouth were wiped away as you fell to the indescribable surge.

Buggy huffed as he struggled to fuck through your orgasm. Your unsaid words rung through his head - he was responsible for this. You were shaking beneath him because of what he did. Your sweet sighs of relief were for him.

“Wh-where-” Buggy could hardly stutter a question he should have asked earlier.

“Finish what you started,” you said, leaning into his touch once again.

Feeling your body melt against his, accepting his thick cock so easily, pulling him deeper - that was more than enough.

“F-fucking shit,” Buggy hissed as he came. 

The climax was nearly painful as he shot stream after stream inside your body. Feeling like the release would never end, the pirate clung to you and whimpered with each pulse. Eventually, he ran out. His hold released with a shaky sigh.

Buggy struggled with words to fill the next moment. Something about how this felt good. Maybe a thanks? But before he could decide, yet another loud sound interrupted the moment. A sound that was accompanied by a lurch that threw the pirate back. An explosion. Then came the alarms. The ship was under attack by pirates. You both rushed to fix yourselves up.

“I-I think that’s for me,” Buggy said.

You looked at him incredulously. Was this all a fucking trick?

“I want you to come with me.”

His request kept you silent. This didn’t make sense.

“I didn’t think they were coming. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. But it was fun - well, I had fun. I think you did too. We can keep having fun, unless you want to keep living this stuffy life.” Buggy spoke quickly. 

His explanation was rushed, but you could see a hint of honesty among the turmoil.

Buggy held his hand out for you to grab.

---

Life on a pirate ship was different, but also similar to life with the Marines. Useless meetings couldn’t be avoided and petty drama existed everywhere. But the spirit and passion that came with piracy was unbelievably vast. Joys flew high, parties raged hard, drinks always flowed, treasure was celebrated.

And on Buggy’s ship, there was always more. More life, more color, more light. Dumb jokes, death defying stunts, fantastic skills, and stupid decisions that managed to work out in the end.

One of your favorite things about life aboard the ship were the quiet afternoons you spent with the captain. Afternoons that were spent laying in the shared bed, your body nestled against his. Afternoons full of stories and musings. Afternoons dedicated to the two of you, which you spent slotted together in warmth and intimacy.

[marthawrites]

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

read part 2 Between the Covers here

-

I.

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog. 

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight! 

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there. 

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 

Aemond. 

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

V.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre

[pandorasprongs]

JAMIE TARTT | if it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: in order to advance her career, reader has to write a profile about her usual subject of interest: jamie tartt. if he'll let her.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: hello! this is one of my shorter one shots and not much to say about this one, but i hope you all enjoy and the title is from 'second chances' by gregory alan isakov!

"There is no fucking way I'm working with her!" You hear Jamie Tartt say from a distance, as Keeley looks past his shoulder with an apologetic look. You give her a small smile, but let out a long sigh.

You knew doing this wouldn't be easy, but you didn't exactly have a choice. You left your job at the Sun after finally coming to your senses when Trent Crimm left the Independent. If the execs were willing to let go of arguably one of their best sports journalists, what would that say about your own career?

It's been half a year since then and so far, you weren't having much luck. You were doing freelance work in the meantime — to be able to afford your rent at this point, — but you couldn't just let yourself wallow in pity. 

You decided to contact a popular sports journal, asking if they had any openings for writers. Your work experience helped boost your appeal, but they said they needed a solid portfolio to consider you. Since the Sun never really let you write actual sports-related articles and few of your tabloid articles were of substance, you asked if there were any articles you could join as a freelance journalist to prove your skills.

The only one they had was one titled, "Rocky Road: Careers of the Premier League's Up and Coming" and they had a particular player you wanted to write your section on.

Contacting Keeley Jones was the easy part. You've had enough interactions with her that your name was recognizable, so you were able to organize a meeting. Your first move was apologizing for every article you've ever mentioned her in, and then quickly explaining your predicament. The KJPR owner — having been in your place of being looked down for things out of your control, — was very willing to help you get your article done.

The missing piece was just the subject of your article: Jamie Tartt. Your relationship with him was similar to the one you had with Keeley, but you doubt he'd be as forgiving.

Your suspicions were confirmed by his reaction to Keeley organizing all of this for you. You had hoped that maybe he'd forgotten all the stories you'd written about his one-night stands, scandalous statements, and failed football plays, but obviously not.

You continued to sit quietly in Keeley's office, pretending not to hear her trying to calm the football player down. After a few minutes, the pair returns and Jamie begrudgingly agrees.

For a moment there, you're ecstatic and you start organizing your schedule of events. You’ve already written a short introduction, but the rest of the article is meant to come from the player and close sources. You're also supposed to shadow him for a week to get a feel of his current state as a player in the league.

You try and explain this to Jamie, but look up to find him taking selfies on his phone. Keeley grabs his attention, but a few moments later, he's back at it, hiding his phone under the table this time.

You finally have enough. "Look Jamie, if you don't want to do this,—"

"You're right, I don't." He finally looks straight at you and you hold yourself back from smacking his smug face. You don't care how many articles say he's gotten better; you still think he's the same prick you wrote all those tabloids about.

"Jamie, we talked about this," Keeley interjects. "It'll be good for your career and Richmond's standing for next season, if you do this profile."

"Yeah, but you couldn't get any other writer?" Jamie turns to face her instead.

"Look, she really needs this article," The KJPR owner pleads with the footballer, but that only gets him more riled up.

His gaze lands on you once again, with a smug look on his face. "So her career is in my hands?" He lets out a laugh, before standing up from his seat. "Message me if you find a journalist who’s more than a mediocre tabloid writer." Jamie leaves the room without another word and you slump into your chair.

Keeley tries to get up and chase after him, but you grab her arm before she does. "It's alright, Keeley. I didn't expect him to say yes," you admit.

"Well, I can try and ask the other players if they're willing to do it. I don't suppose you've written anything for the tabloids about them, right?" She asks jokingly, but you shake your head. The journal was very specific about which player they wanted. It's Tartt or nothing.

You get up to leave, but not without thanking Keeley for trying. She says she'll send Jamie the introduction you wrote, and you appreciate the act but aren't hopeful. As you leave the office, you decide not to go back to your flat just yet and let your feet decide where you're going.

Of course, you end up at Crown & Anchor. It's nearing 6 pm by then and you decide to just have dinner there. You send a message to your roommate about it, before ordering two beers and fish & chips from Mae. You really shouldn't be eating out given how you're already scrounging for jobs, but after the second beer, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

It's 9 pm the next time you check the clock and finally decide it's time to go home. You see Mae walking over to your booth, so you pull your wallet out of your bag. "I don't have it in me to look at the bill, just grab whatever from here and let's call it a day, yeah?"

"Someone's already paid for your meal." She responds, dropping the receipt in your palm instead. You scrunch your eyebrows before she points at someone walking towards the table. You look up and focus your eyes to find Jamie Tartt standing there. He slides into the other side and takes the receipt from you.

Before you can say anything, Jamie pulls out his phone and reads off his screen. "After aiding in AFC Richmond's promotion back to the Premier League, it's clear as day that Tartt — like his hair with the blonde highlights — is changing for the better."

You perk up when you realize what he's reciting. The football player continues, "Keeley sent the first few paragraphs you wrote. I'm not much of a reader, but this is alright."

You give him a small smile, still trying to sober yourself up for this conversation. "Thank you," is all you manage to say. “How’d you find me?”

“I didn’t. Just ended up at this pub and saw you.” You shrug at that explanation before Jamie continues, "I'll consider doing the profile," Your eyes widen, but he adds, "Only if you explain why the fuck you were so obsessed with me at the Sun?"

That's enough to shake you awake. "I was not obsessed with you!" You protest, a little louder than you intended, with Mae sending a glare in your direction.

You take a drink of water and take a deep breath before finally putting it out in the open. 

"I have a degree in Journalism from Leeds," you start, prompting a confused look on the football player's face.

"The fuck does that have to do with all this?" He asks and you hold your hand up to stop him. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything, so you take the chance to continue.

"I have a proper degree from a good school. I have watched and played football all my life. My dad helped me join a league as a kid because of how much we loved the sport." You lean into the table, emphasizing the last part of your statement. If Jamie had arrived five beers earlier, you doubt you'd be admitting this to him.

"I played the game up until secondary school when I started getting serious about my writing. I decided to focus on that more, but I only knew how to write about football." You look up to make sure Jamie is still paying attention and find him looking at you intently.

You take a breath and continue, "I started writing for my school's paper about our team's games and when I went to university, I did the same thing. I've practically been a sports journalist for a decade, so I can proudly say that I'm a fucking qualified writer. I initially applied to be a journalist for the Independent,"

"What, like the Trent Crimm types?" Jamie interjects and you nod.

"But they decided to refer me to the Sun instead. The only things they'd let me write about were tabloids. As in, if I wrote anything about football or sports, it'll get rejected like that," You smack the table, startling Jamie a little, and sigh.

"The closest I could get was writing about rumors about the players, but even then, I'd only really get a small part at the back of the paper. The first time I got a section on the front page though, was when I wrote that article about you. The one about you getting caught with two girls in a karaoke room?" You remind him and he flinches at the reminder but doesn't say anything.

"Well yeah, that one. Anyway, I realized that if I wanted a chance to become an actual sports journalist, I had to get my stupid articles on the front page first and my most popular ones were always about you." You try and gauge Jamie's reaction to that, but he's doing a good job at keeping a straight face now. Or maybe you're just too drunk to properly determine his features.

"So I kept writing about you, whatever bullshit rumor or story I could get my hands on. I'd usually add some things at the end about your football performance thinking that an editor would see it and say 'Oh, she knows what she's talking about,'" You drop your voice an octave to try and mimic one of the executives you knew back then.

"But after a while, you started cleaning up your image and I started to realize that no matter what I did, no one fucking cared. I'd never get a chance to write what I actually wanted there, so I left." You lean back into your seat and let out a huff. "And now you're all caught up."

It takes a minute before Jamie finally speaks up. "I'll do it." A part of you still doubted that he'd agree, but with verbal confirmation, you allow yourself to internally celebrate. "But you better make me look good, yeah?"

"Yes, I promise," you reply, nodding your head furiously. "Oh, and thanks for paying for my dinner."

"Sure. I'll ask Keeley about our schedule next week." Jamie moves to get up but pauses for a second before jerking his head towards you. "Also, my hair is walnut mist, not blonde. You better change that in the article." 

You wonder why this is what Jamie chooses to raise his voice about, but you agree nonetheless. He leaves you be and you sit there for a moment, still in shock. But once one of the servers comes to clean up your table, you finally get the sense to call your roommate to pick you up and share the news.

—

After a rough hangover the morning after, you check your phone to find a message from Keeley telling you Jamie changed his mind about it. You guess he decided not to tell her about what you said last night, much to your relief. You find another message from an unknown number.

I'm usually at the clubhouse by 10, so best to be there by then.

You were still too groggy to properly comprehend the message when another one pops up.

It's Jamie.

You save the contact on your phone before getting up and starting your outline. You already had a few questions lined up when you were planning the article, mainly topics that only he could comment on. One of those things is his career in the recent year.

After losing Lust Conquers All and being kicked out of Man City — arguably your biggest article, — there were fewer and fewer stories for you to write about the footballer, so your last few months at the Sun were pretty lackluster. You didn't have any reason to keep following Jamie's career, so you still had to fill that gap through your interview. But you decided to keep that till after you shadowed Jamie for the week since you also wanted to get the input of his teammates and coaches.

Over the week, you'd received mostly the same stories about the player. Massive prick, got sent back to Man City, came back and redeemed himself, and is now both a better player and teammate. It's nothing you hadn't heard before from second-hand sources, but at least you had direct quotes from his teammates for the article. 

Watching training was the more exciting part of being at the clubhouse, especially getting to watch the improvements of the Richmond team as a whole. They seemed to be more united than before, probably because of the promotion high. 

Your main focus was Jamie and you could tell that his teammates were right. Gone were the days of hogging the ball and only allowing himself to score a goal. He still had slight vibes of his old prick self, but you learned from the coaches that it was more of a tactic than anything. You even learned about their "signal," which they once did in a match a few months ago, you remember. 

For the most part, you had avoided Jamie, still sensing a sort of resentment towards you. You couldn't blame him; he was already doing you a massive favor and it would be rude to get mad at him for justifiably being pissed off at you. It was only ever slight nods and greetings in the halls, and occasionally glances during practice.

Only at the end of the week did you finally have a conversation with him again to plan your one-on-one interview. Well, more of you enumerating your ideas and him only responding in nods.

"Is Sunday okay? Keeley said we can use one of the meeting rooms in KJPR for it." You're double-checking the message from the CEO as Jamie fixes himself up in front of his locker.

"Nah, too stuffy," is the first thing the football player says during the whole conversation. "How long's it gonna take?"

You had already lessened the number of questions for him based on the information you gathered from the team so that only left a select few. You didn't want to underestimate it though, so you tell him around 1-2 hours, depending on his answers.

"Then can't you find a restaurant or something for it? So I'm not starving the whole time." He asks, and you bite back from commenting on his tone. This is for the greater good. This is for the greater good.

"Sure, I'll find a quiet cafe for it, so no one will disturb us." You already had a few in mind that you used to go to when you needed a space to write.

"Okay, sounds good," Jamie responds and there are a few quiet moments before the footballer says his goodbyes. "Have a nice night."

"You too," You move to the side and the football player leaves without another word.

You exhale deeply and wait for a beat before heading into the hallway yourself. You start walking out of the building when you hear someone call out to you.

"Hi! I didn't know you'd be here today," You greet Keeley, who's rushing down the stairs.

"Oh, I'm just visiting Rebecca." She explains, pointing upstairs. "How's the article going?"

"It's going fine." You answer.

"Just fine? If Jamie's being an arse, you can tell me." You laugh but shake your head. Keeley seems to believe you and instead tells you, "Also, I've already contacted a photographer for Jamie's shoot. I'll send you his email, so you can plan it out with him. And, if you need any additional information, I'm sure I can help fill the gaps."

"Yes, thank you," You smile at her when a question pops into your head. "Do you know if Jamie's dating anyone right now?" Your first thought is to ask his possible partner for an interview, but you instantly realize your fault. "Wait, never mind, I shouldn't ask. That's way too invasive. Old habits die hard, sorry."

"It's alright," Keeley's quick reply relaxes you. "But no, I don't think he's seen anyone in a while."

That was more or less the end of the conversation with Keeley as Rebecca finally appeared and the two ladies went back to the latter's office. 

—

The afternoon you're supposed to meet Jamie started rough. First, you realize you didn't charge your laptop the night before and now, it was completely dead. Next, your roommate had used up all the hot water, so you had to power through the freezing temperatures. Now, you're running late to the interview and sprinting through the street.

You finally get to the cafe and as you expected, there was only one other person there aside from the barista. You wave at the person at the counter, already familiar with them before approaching Jamie.

"12 minutes late," is all he has to say, as Jamie glances at his watch.

"Sorry, I just," you stop yourself from going on a whole monologue about how shit your day has been. "I got delayed, okay?"

Maybe he could sense you weren't in the mood to deal with his attitude, — when were you ever? — so Jamie instead informs you, "I ordered some food and the guy said he knew you, so he made whatever you usually get."

You try not to show your surprise at him paying for your lunch, but it wouldn't be the first time. "Thanks," The football player only nods, before crossing his arms. 

You open your notebook and the voice recorder on your phone, "Okay, let's start."

You didn't expect this interview with Jamie to be so... fun? 

You decided to start with the more surface-level questions like his expectations for the season, so it could break the ice a little. But after a sip of your tea ended up in the wrong pipe and launched you into a coughing fit, the tension was immediately broken.

Jamie started giving you more substantial answers and was more open about talking about his return to Richmond. How it really changed him, specifically Ted Lasso's effect on him and the club as a whole. You notice how soft his features had become talking about his coach and the team and you react with a smile.

After that and finishing your sandwiches, you shift the topic to his childhood and how it shaped him as a player now. You notice the sudden change in Jamie as if he's hesitant to start, so you reassure him, "If it's too much, we can change gears a bit. Talk about something else."

He shakes his head, "No, it's fine. There are just some things that I don't really want to share."

"That's fine. You don't have to. Just stick to the general stuff if you want." You pause the recording for a moment, trying to make Jamie more comfortable.

He pauses for a moment, before letting out a chuckle. "Do you think old you would be happy with letting me keep my secrets?" He changes his tone towards the end and you roll your eyes.

"Obviously not," you answer. "But I've been trying to bury that version of me."

"Why? You probably could've taken down the parliament with your skills." Jamie jokes and you finally break into a smile.

"Well, I never really used my skills for bigger and better things, did I? Just finding dirt on football players to make some money and build a mediocre reputation as a journalist." You answer honestly and the football player's expression changes.

"I didn't mean to be such a prick during the meeting." Jamie starts, but you shake your head.

"Nah, you had every right to. I wrote some pretty shitty things about you back then."

"Well yeah, but your life's kind of gone to shit since then, so now I feel bad." Your jaw drops and your eyes widen at his explanation and lightly punch him in the shoulder. Maybe the two of you weren't close enough for that kind of thing, but Jamie just laughed at your reaction.

"Fucking prick," you say in a joking manner. "Let's get back to the interview." You start the recording again, as Jamie recounts the first time his mum bought him a pair of boots.

He starts telling you about all the significant milestones over the years, and while you can tell he's holding back some things, — specifically about his dad, — you say nothing. It's the least you can do.

Maybe it's the fact that this has been the best part of your shitty day, but you started to see Jamie in a different light. Yes, everyone talked about how much he had changed, but this was the first time you saw it directly. You didn't even notice how late it's gotten till a brand new barista approached you about cleaning out the table.

"Shit, this is way past two hours now." You exclaim and check your notes to see that you've covered all the needed areas at this point. "But, I think we can end it now."

"Actually," you look back up at Jamie, who pauses to think. "Do you wanna get dinner? You pay this time," 

You don't have time to wonder about his reasoning for this and let your hunger take over. "Sure, but if I'm paying, I pick the place."

The two of you stand up and Jamie directs you to the door, "Lead the way," you playfully roll your eyes and start walking, with the footballer trailing behind you.

You head to a nearby Japanese restaurant, — one of the many perks of your flat's location — and settle down in a booth near the back. There were more people in this place and you weren't sure how comfortable Jamie would be being seen with you. You knew better than anyone how easily a scandal could be made from a simple picture.

The two of you pick out your meals and thank God it was an older lady taking your order who didn't recognize the footballer across you.

"Okay, why'd you want to eat dinner together?" You finally bring up.

The player just shrugs and leans on the table, "Thought I'd give you a chance to pay me back." You can't help but agree with that statement, so you let it go. Jamie continues, "Also, I'm interviewing you now."

"Oh God, don't tell me you're doing a profile on me." You joke and the player rolls his eyes.

He doesn't respond and goes back to his questions, "What got you into football?"

It was the first question you had asked him earlier. While he had given you a general answer initially, he added to it afterward, saying it was one of the few things he was sure he was good at as a kid. You decide to give him an honest answer.

"My brother and I don't have a lot in common. Didn't even feel like I had a sibling for the first part of my life. Till he realized I wasn't half bad at football. It was the only way to get a decent conversation out of the guy, and after a while, I ended up actually liking it." The moment you finish your answer, you realize you've never actually said it aloud to anyone. 

For a brief moment, you think Jamie would say something serious, much to your dismay. You hated having to be emotional in front of other people. It was your job to pry at people's thoughts and feelings, not the other way around. But after building your writing career around the guy, you should've known he doesn't fare too well with feelings either.

"Think he's a fan of me?" He asks instead.

"Fuck no, not anymore," you're quick to reply and Jamie looks offended. You elaborate, "He's a Man City supporter. Fucking hates your guts now, honestly."

Jamie lets out a small laugh. "Runs in the family." The lady comes back with your food and that puts a hold on your conversation.

After a few minutes of eating, you finally break the silence. "You know I never actually hated you, right?"

Mid-slurp, Jamie looks up with a look of disbelief. "Really? You wrote all those articles and still don't hate me?"

"Yes!" You defend yourself. "I told you before. I did it for the job, nothing more. And objectively, you were a great player. You honestly have more of a reason to hate me than I do."

Jamie scoffs. "I don't hate you either. Annoyed? Yeah. Pissed off? Most of the time, but I never hated you."

You had already gotten pretty good at hiding your surprise about these revelations. "Well, I guess that settles it. We don't hate each other." You stick out your hand and Jamie looks at you in confusion for a section, before shaking it. The two of you laugh and continue your meal.

After paying, you end the night there and wave goodbye to Jamie outside the restaurant. If you from a year ago saw you hanging out with the footballer, she would've thought you'd lost your mind.

As you head back home, you have this weird feeling in your chest. Your whole job was finding ways to express things through words, but even then, you couldn't figure this one out. It's only when you get home and re-listen to your recording filled with jokes and exchanges that you realize.

You may or may not be developing a crush on the football player.

—

You hadn't physically seen Jamie since the photoshoot a few days after your interview and dinner with him. 

You didn’t have a reason to anymore, since you had pretty much finished the whole article and already handed it to the editor for proofreading. They sent it back with minor notes, — just some grammar slip-ups and possible rephrasing, — which gave you hope that you might end up with a job when this is all over.

Getting the profile approved also gave you a chance to message Jamie after weeks of no contact, just to ask for his opinion on things. You didn't know if it was nerves or excitement making that pit in your stomach waiting for him to reply. All he had to say about the article was that he was glad you changed the "blonde" line in the introduction. Luckily though, it didn't end there. After that, he asked you what you thought of his new locker set-up.

That was the first of many times he would shift the conversation to random topics. You started spending your mornings and nights just messaging the football player. Sometimes he'd send pictures from training, saying it's extra material for the article and sometimes you'd send pictures from the cafe where you're writing, joking that you had new ideas for Jamie-related articles to send to the su!z

And when the rankings about the upcoming season came out and put AFC Richmond last, your first thought was to message him.

Fuck the pundits, honestly. You knew he didn't need any context, but you didn't expect Jamie to answer so quickly considering he was supposed to be at training.

I'm not worried. It's just poopy. You're not entirely sure what that meant, but at least it didn't seem to affect him so much.

I'm glad, then. You wait for a beat before sending another message. I know you'll do great this season. Why were you so nervous sending that? God, it felt like you were 15 again.

Thanks. Pretty sure 'tabloid writer you' is rolling in her grave.

You laugh to yourself as you reply. God, her head would be spinning knowing how I'm contributing to your already massive ego.

Jamie just sends a picture of him looking mad and you send one back sticking your tongue out.

A few days after, you send the published article to both Jamie and Keeley, along with a thank you for all the help. The latter answered sincerely, partnered with an invitation to the first game of the season, but of course, the footballer decided to answer jokingly. 

Over time, you'd gotten over being so worried about interacting with Jamie. He was just another guy, even if he was an incredibly fit footballer for his day job. And now, you'd get to watch him play in the first match with Chelsea.

Despite your presence being welcomed by Keeley, Rebecca, the owner of Richmond, and Higgins, the Director of Football Operations, it didn't take a genius to realize how tense the three of them were at the match. Their club was the underdog of the season, so it was understandable to be nervous about the match, but you soon pick up on a different vibe involving an ex-husband and internationally famous football player.

"What do you think, then?" Keeley asks you when Rebecca leaves to try and convince Zava to join her team instead. "Do you think Zava's worth it?"

"Yes," you answer honestly, from the perspective of a sports journalist and a football fan in general. "Zava's objectively one of the best football players in the world, and his track record of wins outweigh his track record of diva moments."

"Well said," Higgins responds and you smile at him, before turning back your attention to the game. 

When Rebecca comes back to your seats and explains the disastrous interaction, your reaction is the same as the rest of them: pure disappointment. 

But as the game ends with a draw, you can't help but celebrate along with the rest of the Richmond fans. It may not be a win, but it was more than most people expected of the club, so that was something.

You join the other three briskly leaving your seats and avoiding the press conference of Zava until you hear him utter the name 'Richmond' in his speech. 

"Holy fuck," you celebrate with Keeley and congratulate Rebecca since whatever she said to Zava seemed to work out in the end.

It was then that you felt a ping from your cell phone. You open it to find an email from the sports journal offering you a slot as a feature writer. You end up repeating, "Holy fuck," drawing the attention of the others.

Keeley glances at your screen and exclaims in happiness, "Oh my God. Congrats to you, too!" She goes in for a hug and despite still being in shock, you're quick to reciprocate it.

"Thank you, Keeley. Truly." Your face is just an expression of pure joy as you let go of her. As you continue to walk out of the stadium, you end up excusing yourself. Of course, you had to thank the main person for all this.

You find your way to the guest locker rooms and even from the hallway, you hear the cheering of the Richmond tram. They must've heard the news. You don't bother knocking and walk in to find what you expected: celebrating and rather sweaty football players. Well, there was one person who stood out.

"Jamie!" You call out to him from the door and the moment his somewhat solemn eyes landed on you, he made his way through the crowd to you.

"What're you doing here?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I got the job! I'm going to be a proper sports journalist." You inform him and his expression immediately changes to match yours. Catching you by surprise, Jamie envelopes you in a hug and you decidedly ignore his dirty kit as you reciprocate it. 

"That's great," Jamie says, as he lets go of you.

You smile, before remembering the news earlier. "Oh and congrats, too! On the draw and getting Zava." The footballer's expression noticeably drops at the mention of the other player, and you finally get it. "You're not happy about getting him, are you?"

Jamie inhales sharply. "Rather not talk about that right now."

"Okay, sure," You back off. "But if it helps in any way, you'll still be my favorite player on the team."

Your heart skips a beat when Jamie gives you a cocky smirk, one that you used to despise. "Yeah? And you'll keep writing about me too at the new job, too?"

"It is my specialty. Plus, you're infinitely more interesting than Zava and his avocado farm." The two of you let out matching chuckles.

The cheering from the locker room seems to have died down and there were fewer and fewer people in the hallway. That's when Jamie takes a step forward closer to you.

When you don't pull away, he finally staets. "I was wondering, if you weren't busy,—"

"Yes," You interrupted him and hope you didn't do so prematurely. "If what you're about to ask is what's I'm thinking, then yes."

"Oh, you're fine giving me dirt on the other teams when you start your new job?"

You stop your expression from dropping and force a smile, "Yeah, sure."

But your disappointment doesn't last because Jamie starts chuckling, "I'm joking! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out sometime."

You're not sure if you should be annoyed or ecstatic, so your reaction is a mix of both. "Oh fuck you, Jamie!"

The footballer's prick side is practically second nature. "If the night goes well."

You lightly shove his shoulders before answering, "Sure. As long as it's a private place. Those tabloid writers can be so annoying sometimes." You flash a playful smile at Jamie, which he's quick to mirror.

[another-random-paradise]

Hello! Hope you are doing well :3

Could you do a reader x Slick? The reader races with Rusty the first attempt of the race and gets seriously injured due to Slick’s actions? Slick didn’t intend such an injury, only attempting to keep Rusty from racing. Some hurt/comfort as she tries to make things better and help take care of the injured reader, please!

Whatever it takes

Hi!! I had lots of fun writing this; it’s been a while since I wrote a proper fic :p hope you enjoy!!

---------------------------------------------------------

Slick accidentally severely injures Reader during the race, she didn’t intend for this.

Character: Slick

Format: One shot (1232 words)

Warnings: Mentions of crashing, injuries, and the hospital (referred to as a repairs shed since they’re trains)

Slick was surprised, to say the least, when she heard that Rusty already had a Race partner. It put a small dent in her plan, having planned to race with him and slam the brakes, but she managed. She hadn't bothered to find out who Rusty's Race partner is, instead focusing on coming up with a plan.

On the day of the race, she stood proud in the audience; everything was set up perfectly, oil on the Track Rusty planned to take, Electra and Greaseball had been informed where to stay clear, and both had already paid half up-front. Now she just needed to sit back and enjoy the action!...That was, until she saw who rolled up to the start line alongside Rusty. Panic crept in as she watched you get into starting position, this was not part of the plan, you were not meant to be anywhere near the tracks! 

She racks her brain in an attempt to find a way to stop this, but the oil is already spilled, and if she told the marshals she'd need an explanation as to how she knows - not to mention Greaseballs and Electras fury if she does. She barely registers the starting signal and the corresponding cheers around her, as she stands there with her face in her hands, trying not to let her panic show.

Rusty was known to be awfully kind, he'd probably uncouple you the moment he feels himself slip, and you'd be save. That is what she tells herself over and over as she watches the race, but she can't know that for sure, she could only pray to the starlight and watch.

It wasn't long till the moment came; Rusty took a turn on what he believed to be short cut, only to be met with unstable ground, making him loose his footing faster than he can react. Just as Slick had hoped, he uncoupled you as soon as he realised what was happening, but by then it was already too late. 

You two had been going faster than either of you was used to, and with the added oil, you weren't able to balance yourself in time. Slick could only watch as you fell of the Track onto the harsh ground a few meters below, Rusty following suit just shortly after . She wanted nothing more than to look away, to close her eyes and pretend that this was just a bad dream; but it seems her body doesn't want to listen, instead standing there as if frozen, as she watched the the crash displayed on the screen in front of her. Only after she watched you be brought away by the on-site repair trucks could she move again.

She pushed through the crowds of people, all who seemed to be talking  about the crash. She didn't bother to look where she was going, or who she was running into, just focused on making a beeline towards the repairs shed.

And here she is now, pacing in the waiting room as she had for at least an hour now. The repair trucks and anyone else working there must hate her by now, as she just kept asking them how you are over and over, not to mention her rambling away about her worries to anyone that would listen. It's unusual for the freight, known to be laid back, if not straight up mean at times, and most importantly: she was not usually one to talk about personal things, especially not feelings, and especially not to total strangers.

the cycle continues, until one of the doctors finally tells her that she can come see you now. She rushes into your assigned room faster than the engines cross the finish line, a chorus of sighs of reliefs follow behind her, from the exhausted staff who had to deal with her until now.

A wave of relief washes over her when she sees you, awake in your assigned bed. Though the feeling of relief is gone just as fast as it came, being replaced by the same guilt she felt when she watched the crash. You're wrapped in bandages, and hooked up to some of the machines. And it's her fault. 

She just stood there for a moment. All that pacing around, but now that she was actually confronted with you, all movement seemed impossible. Only after you weakly smile at her does she slowly approach you and sit down next to you.

She wanted to say something, anything, but she didn't know where to start. In the end, you beat her to it. "I know you caused the crash, Rusty told me." She froze, the, by now familiar, panic setting in again; do you hate her? she couldn't blame you if you did, but the thought still stung. "I just want to know why." The tone of your voice nearly killed her. You sounded sad and almost betrayed, rather than angry or enraged. How in Starlights name was she going to explain that?

She might as well say it as is, you were going to find out sooner than later anyways. "...It wasn't meant to get this out of hand, it was just meant to discourage Rusty from racing." She looked at the ground next to the bed, unable to look you in the eye, but she knew that didn't explain why she did it. "I was offered a lot of money, and the freight part of the yard has been getting budget cuts, and I-" The tanker was stumbling over her words, she had never been good at this kind of thing. She took a deep breath before continuing, "neither of you were meant to get hurt that badly, especially not you." 

If she could disappear, she would. She could only imagine what you must think of her - "I don't forgive you." - and that confirmed her worries. you didn't forgive her, why would you? She let her head drop. She was about to get up and give you the space you deserve, when you continued; "but i also don't hate you." 

What? She had to be dreaming, or maybe maybe she misheard you? It was clear you knew what she was thinking, though she didn't exactly attempt to hide it as she looked at you in shock. "I don't forgive you, but i also don't hate you," you repeated. "I don't fully understand it, and never will, but you had your reasons. But you have a lot to make up for. Both to me and to Rusty."

It took her a moment to truly comprehend what you said, nodding along as you talk. She could feel a small smile creeping onto her face alongside tears. She doesn't even remember the last time she cried, but so much had happened in such a short, it was nothing if not overwhelming. "whatever it takes." A promise that she planned to keep.

And she did. She, begrudgingly apologised to Rusty, under your watch to make sure she wasn't mean about, and then barely left your side during your recovery. You needed something? she was on it. Felt stiff? she may not be good at massages, but she was sure as hell going to try! i believe you can see where this is going - she planned to keep her promise and do whatever it takes to make it up to you. She got far to close to loosing you.

Thanks again for the request!! Hope my proper writing skills weren’t too rusty :p

Feedback is welcome, just be nice pls!

Have a nice day/night <33

[no-saints-around-here]

I read Quiet Afternoon and I got to thinking, it says “tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.” Does this mean this is the first time Rindo has slept with bestie? If not, what was the first time/incident that caused Rindo to sleep with airhead best friend?

Masterlist | Quiet Afternoon

ahhh this became a lot longer then I anticipated - wrote a short fic at the bottom cause I thought it would explain what happened much better than just word vomit!

‎‎

To answer the question first: no. Its not Rindo's first time, not by a long shot.

That line is more so that Rindo is a delusional and unreliable narrator when it comes to his bestie: that is delusional and unreliable on a good day, and straight up in denial on having even held hands with you, let alone touched you, on a bad one. And this is also when this boy is at his most dangerous, willing to do anything to anyone, Ran included, to prove to himself that he was your best friend and nothing more, that you were still his sweet, naive, innocent airhead who he found especially annoying.

If you squint really hard at the implications of Rindo installing a soundproof door on his first day of moving into Bonten HQ, together with how well this boy already knows your body and your patterns by the time of the events of Quiet Afternoon, you may be able to infer that its definitely not your first tango, even if Rindo insists it is (no sweat if you didn't though, it was really very, very subtle on purpose).

And no one knows this fact better than Ran, given the older Haitani was the precise reason your purple-haired Bonten friend first broke rank against his better sense.

Rindo’s breaking point came sometime during your stardom period. All started going downhill when he reluctantly allowed you to continue to perform as an idol against his judgement on the basis of just how happy it made you - it had always been hard for this baby boy to deny you anything you wanted, and fresh out of another stint in jail, the delinquent-turn-yakuza was eager to make up for his time away from you. And this was on top of the weak spot he always had for your pouting, so no surprise that he caves as soon as you started to look the slightest bit down about having to leave your little gig so quickly after starting.

One of the caveats he does put in place in exchange for indulging you is that he is now personally in charge of your security, and that the rest of your bodyguards were from Bonten. No exceptions. Absolutely does not trust your ‘agency’ or whatever other maggots that you choose to surround yourself with, and so will take it upon himself to accompany you everywhere, to stand guard outside your changing room when he absolutely couldn’t be inside with you, fly with you everywhere you go. But of course this also means that he has to take time off work to do so, and that meant convincing Mikey to let him do so. Ran finds it amusing to what length his younger brother will go to keep you by his side (cough begging and grovelling in front of Mikey), promising that you could help to launder their money and what not. Mikey honestly couldn’t care even a lick, as long as Rindo takes the work in whatever country he ends up in.

Yet for all that he has done for you, the honeymoon period lasts only a good 6 months before everything fell apart. Rindo thought he had a good handle on things, but never has he been so under-prepared when it finally strikes your best friend just how massively popular you had become in such a short period. Everywhere you went, no matter where you toured, your concerts were all full, stuffed to the brim with fans. And oh how he detested that word.

Fans. Rabid, like mad dogs. Decked out in merchandise bearing your face and name, screaming at the stage hoping for even a smudge of your attention. even coming to the concert venue early hoping to get a glimpse of you.

Scum of the earth, how dare they ask for more than getting to breathe the same air as you?

How dare they demand more?!

The resentment of your adoring masses only built up more and more in Rindo, having to watch from the sidelines as you enthusiastically shook hands and thanked your fans for your support, dancing for them and winking at them. Like you were some sort of whore putting yourself on show for the world. Rindo would never stand for this, not for his best friend, yet he still gritted his teeth; for reasons beyond him, you were enjoying this, enjoying shaking your ass and chest at the unwashed insects.

And then all hell finally broke loose upon one of your returns to Japan after another of your tours.

‎‎

‎‎

All Downhill from Here

"Let. Me. Go," Rindo hissed as he was manhandled away from the still buzzing arrival hall by a rather amused Ran, his twisting and struggling to break free from the other’s grasp to no avail. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him, and then I'll kill you."

The older Haitani sighed as he continued to force his younger brother along the otherwise empty corridor. "And that is precisely why we are in this situation."

And as usual, to none of their surprise, you were at the center of it all, though your airheaded presence that Rindo’s world revolved around was nowhere in sight, having already been sent ahead to the meeting point without your best friend’s knowledge. The hallway echoed with the clicks of their shoes, joined occasionally by the buzz of machinery as they passed and the hum of air-conditioning overhead. If he had known what the day was going to bring, Ran mused, he would have proposed doing this from the start; after all, airport staff were easier to disperse and keep away compared to the hordes of fans that you attract everywhere you go, and these staff corridors were rather convenient, snaking throughout the airport and away from the public eye. 

Rindo’s cursing and swearing went in one ear and out the other as Ran continued to daydream, though the man couldn’t quite blame his unusually hot-tempered younger brother either. After all, it had been the continuous build up of months of stress, having to deal with you and your little idol gig that you insisted you wanted to keep, and this latest incident was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A huff as Rindo finally gave up on his failed escape, his shoulders relaxing in the armlock he had been held in for the past fifteen minutes.

Ran raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

”Yeah. Let me go.”

“You sure?”

”Fuck you, I’ll get that shitstain later.”

Which was exactly what the older of the brothers wanted to hear, Ran nodding as he released Rindo without another word. Shitstain was putting it lightly in his opinion, considering how much trouble he had caused in the span of a single minute - but it wasn’t his problem to solve. As long as Rindo wasn’t attempting to pull a gun in front of the police and the public to settle his little lover’s quarrel, Ran couldn’t quite care what happened to another nobody.

Ran jerked his chin down the corridor. “She’s two doors down to the right. Security escorted her there earlier.” The room was already demarcated as yours, what with two Bonten grunts flanking each side, but he thought it would be better to make it clear, given Rindo’s state of mind. 

His younger brother was already gone before he could finish his sentence, and all Ran received as a thank you for his hard work was the slam of the door.

Ah, siblings.

‎‎

‎‎

Rindo didn’t quite see it as lightly as Ran did. 

This past day had already been particularly hellish for him by any standard measurement. It all started with the last concert of your first tour two nights ago - he had been watching from backstage, as he always did, when your skirt had ripped during your second song. The sound of cloth tearing reached his ears even over the sound of the throbbing music. He had confirmed as much when you finally returned to him waiting for you in the dressing room during the intermission, which only sealed the suspicions that churned in his sinking gut: at just the right angle, you would have flashed the fans in the first few rows, his wretched older brother seated in the VIP box included. Even if he had made you put on a new, longer skirt, it was already too late. 

And then when he had tried to drill into you about the importance of keeping your distance from those lowlives least you catch something nasty, you hadn’t taken his concerns quite as seriously as he had hoped, laughing and beaming back at him, patting his hand reassuringly and trying to convince him that they were harmless. Strike 1.

He didn’t know what he expected, Rindo had to admit to himself; you had always been such an airhead, even since childhood when he first met you. You probably wouldn’t even have survived for so long if the younger Haitani hadn’t take you under his wing as his best friend, and the least you could do to pay him back was to listen to him. All he asked was for you to stay close to him and far away from everyone else, especially Ran.

Sure, there were times like this where Rindo would be forced to allow Ran to inhabit the same space as you - seeing as his older brother had attended your concert and similarly happened to be heading back to Bonten HQ, the three of you had to share the jet - but of all the people to turn up cheekly waving merchandise with your face and name plastered all over? Well, he did say that you were one of the best he’s seen in a while, but still. The man with the short purple hair did it on purpose, Rindo was certain, and definitely to trigger an outburst from him; if you hadn’t been present, he would have strangled Ran himself for bringing up how good you looked on stage (now he was certain Ran saw your panty flashing). Strike 2.

‎

It was without a doubt that your best friend was already rather on edge as the jet finally landed back in Tokyo. It was supposed to be a secret when you would arrive, which meant that there were fans behind barricades eagerly awaiting your appearance outside the airport. Sure, fine. You were famous, whatever, Rindo could hardly bother. But what broke his dam was a single unruly fan. One man, decked out from head to toe in merchandise spouting your name and face, who had decided for very clear, unacceptable reasons to jump the fence in an attempt to ambush you. And the vein that had been throbbing on Rindo’s forehead all day finally burst. Strike 3.

If Ran hadn’t been a second faster to grip and restrain his hand, Rindo would have shot him dead before security could grab the assailant. 

And the missed opportunity continued to haunt him despite thirty minutes having already passed and nothing having happened to you, the sheer anger he had felt in that moment surging through his veins once more as Rindo stalked down the corridor, leaving Ran to talk at his back. Sure, he was going to arrange to have that scum erased, yet the upcoming torture wasn’t enough to soothe his nerves. Because how dare he? How dare that unworthy insect you called a fan even think of laying a finger on you? 

And then the heartstopping fear that chilled him to his bones that followed - what about you?

Throwing open the door and seeing your back turned to him only reinforced his sudden onset of fear, the closing of the door behind him reverberating in his ears. You were too naive, too stupid to think beyond your next meal, but what if there was someone else in the picture? Could it be that you had laughed away his concerns earlier because someone else told you so? Could it be that you continued to indulge others because you were being influenced? Could it be?

It had to be, Rindo gulped, as you finally acknowledged him, standing from your small seat and waving eagerly. Someone must have gotten to you while he was locked away in prison, brainwashing you into abandoning him and running off with them. Or worse, with Ran.

He couldn’t hear any of the words you were speaking at him, trapped in the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, his body numb as you tugged him over to the small comfy corner that the airport staff had set up for you. 

Nothing went in, Rindo staring blankly at you, though you seemed to have failed to notice your friend’s inaction until you tried to get his attention. 

”-n! Rin-rin!! Hello?”

The Bonten executive blinked, awakening to your curious face taking up his entire view. 

“Rin-rinnnnn.”

Rindo simply stood suddenly, forcing you to back away, though a beam quickly replaced your surprised expression. A quick glance around the room told him that it was empty of cameras, and he was certain enough that the grunts outside had ensured as much - they were, after all, the ones who would pay with their lives should the police ever become involved. “Bend over the table and pull down your skirt,” he ordered, though he didn’t wait for you to register his instruction, instead already moving to gently guide you.

He had to make sure that you knew who you belonged to, and no matter how much your best friend dreaded what he was going to do to you next, it was necessary. You couldn’t be trusted to know up from down, let alone keep yourself safe and away from those who wanted to do your harm. From those who wanted to see you separated from him.

“Okay!” You cheerfully agreed. “What are we doing?”

Needless to say, this fateful day was the start of the end of your career as an idol. You had a good run while it lasted.

[zepskies]

20 Questions For Fanfic Authors

Thanks @chevroletdean for tagging me! 💜 I think I've done this one a long time ago, but it's cool to see what might've changed for my Ao3 side of things.

1. How many works on AO3?

90 - but there are more on Tumblr due to headcanons and imagines that are difficult for me to transfer over to Ao3 due to the format. Plus, several fics in the Break Me Down-verse that I haven't been able to convert into the OC version. 😮‍💨

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

1,517,325

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos? (Click titles to be linked to the fic!)

Every Loyalty - Jon Snow x OFC (Game of Thrones (TV)) (91,612 words)

Checkerboard - Soldier Boy x Reader (The Boys (TV 2019)) (1,054 words)

And So It Goes - Billy Butcher x OFC (The Boys (TV 2019), The Boys (Comics)) (87,940 words)

Never Say Goodbye - Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader (Supernatural (TV 2005)) (71,868 words)

Break Me Down - Soldier Boy x OFC (The Boys (TV 2019), The Boys (Comics)) (99,233 words) **Yes, this is the OFC version^

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Supernatural: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (occasionally)

The Boys: Soldier Boy

Big Sky: Beau Arlen

Tracker: Russell Shaw

Dark Angel: Alec McDowell

Smallville: Jason Teague (potentially Clark Kent?)

10 Inch Hero: Boaz Priestly

Dawson's Creek: CJ Braxton

Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit: Aragorn, Eomer, Thranduil (soon), Haldir (soon)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love and appreciate feedback. That's the whole point of sharing on Tumblr/Ao3 for me.

6. Angstiest Ending?

Ooh, I'm a "happy ending always" kind of writer, even if it was an angsty ride to get there. But If I Stay (Dean W. x plus-sized!reader) probably has the angstiest happy ending so far lol.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

Ooh, again, all my fics have happy endings, but probably Midnight Espresso-verse has one of the fluffiest "happily ever afters" I've ever written. I wanted to give Dean the ending I thought he deserved post-S15 ("fix it").

8. Do you get hate?

Lol occasionally, but most of the time my readers are amazing and kind. 💕

9. Do you write smut?

Oh yes. ❤️‍🔥

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, actually. It's not really my thing, but I've read a couple of good ones!

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of! *knock on wood*

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Back in my FF.net days growing up, I co-wrote a couple of silly fics with my best friend turned writing partner. 😂 We're still friends to this day, and somehow we both ended up in the same career as well as working on our personal writing. lol

14. All time favorite ship?

Depends on the fandom. I'm more likely to ship an OC with a canon character, but for SPN if I had to pick an OTP it would be Dean x Lisa lol. I thought it was such a shame how the writers tore them apart.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There are a couple of sadly abandoned fics on my Ao3 now that I'm more active in other fandoms, but nothing current that I don't plan to finish.

16. Writing Strengths?

I feel like I'm good at plotting long fics and developing character arcs.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

On the other hand, I'm not good at keeping fics short. 😂 The fun little blurbs that are popular on Tumblr right now? Any time I try to write a one-shot it's almost always 1000 words or more. 🤣

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

I love it! When people express their culture like that it's always fun. I've tried my hand at it in the Midnight Espresso-verse, and also in Lost in Translation - both feature Latina women of color as the reader.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oof, Chronicles of Narnia, when I was like 10 years old. 🤣

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Reeeeally tough question! I'm equally torn between these three series:

Midnight Espresso (Dean x Plus-Sized Latina!reader)

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x reader)

Smoke Eater (Firefighter!Dean x reader)

No pressure tags: @luci-in-trenchcoats @bettystonewell @rizlowwritessortof and whoever else cross-posts on Tumblr to Ao3!

[halfratsalready]

Reflecting On My 2024 Fics 💕✨

When this year started, I hadn’t published a fanfic in well over 5 or 6 years. By the end of the year, I’d published 7, including 3 one shots, 3 completed multi chapter fics, and 1 in-progress multi chapter fic (that I admittedly haven’t touched in a while, oops). I also organized my first ever fic exchange this year! I loved being able to bring people together to share stories with each other and am so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone by hosting an exchange, so much so that I hosted another one later in the year!

I’m not the best or most prolific writer here - not by a long shot - but I’m pretty happy with what I’ve done and am so grateful for this community’s response to my works! In honor of that, here’s a little reflection on what I’ve written this year :)

(Featuring a sneak peek or two at what I’m working on next…)

Breaking Down 🥀

(March 18th. 1 chapter. 2k words. 21 kudos. 1 comment.)

My first fic in 7 years, first ever Just Dance fic, and first fic on AO3! The start of my tendency towards Jack Rose angst! Based on a Florence + The Machine song! This is a short one shot that I wrote in a very stream of consciousness manner. It’s not exactly my best work, but it holds a special place in my heart for all the milestones it represented for me.

Lose Yourself ✨

(March 22nd-April 5th. 5 chapters. 16.5k words. 95 kudos. 45 comments.)

Oh, Lose Yourself, where do I even begin with you? This fic genuinely changed my year, all for the better. I was absolutely terrified to post this. I was new to the fandom, publishing a fic amongst so many other incredible works by incredible writers, and to top it all off, it was my very first time publishing a ship fic. It was also my first time publishing a series. I had debilitating anxiety for days because I was scared to publish actual ship content. The response to this fic was absolutely incredible and I am still so, so grateful to everyone who read it and left feedback. This series was also the first time I ever received artwork for any fic I’d written. Genuinely, this was sort of a life changing experience for me, as silly as it may seem.

Close to Post-Mortem 🥀

(April 12th-April 26th. 5 chapters. 17k words. 71 kudos. 39 comments.)

Part two of the Lose Yourself series and my second (and much darker) foray into the world of Jack Rose angst, as well as my first time really getting to write Night Swan. This is the fic that made me realize how much I love writing the dynamic between Jack and Night Swan, and just writing Night Swan in general. While generally the least popular of the Lose Yourself series and probably my third favorite (not that I don’t like it, I just like the other two better), this fic is special to me for showing me how much fun I have writing angst and how much I love writing these characters. Also, it’s the first instance of my personal favorite AO3 tag of mine- “turning people into terrifying mind controlled bird minions left right and center,” which gets it a ton of bonus points in my book.

Fail Me Not ✨

(May 3rd-May 20th. 6 chapters. 38.2k words. 92 kudos. 39 comments.)

This fic is so special to me. It closes out the initial Lose Yourself trilogy (because I decided that I want to continue the story through Dance With the Swan and hope to do so one day) and represents the first time I actually finished a fic series (technically not because there’s more to come but I finished the original plan so I’m counting it). The feedback I received for this fic was so kind and I’m so grateful for everyone who left a comment at any point in this series. I’m really proud of the Lose Yourself series and am so happy that so many people liked it!

To Form A New Dynasty 👑

(For Frostyblustar. July 14th. 1 chapter. 21k words. 36 kudos. 14 comments.)

This novella (never intended for it to have that high of a word count - it was supposed to be a simple one shot) is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I had so much fun coming up with the lore of this version of the Danceverses and exploring this dynamic. I loved writing Night Swan and her dynamic with Jack and writing Si’Ha and writing Jack and Wander in this new dynamic and wow I just really enjoyed writing this fic, as stressed as I was about the ridiculously high word count at the time. @frostyblustar’s prompt allowed me to write something I never would have thought of otherwise, and I loved working on it so much! This was also my first time hosting a fic exchange and I’m so happy with how it went and the incredible fics that came of it! Hosting this exchange was a great time and I’m so glad that so many people participated and had a great time!

The Wrong World ✨

(July 19th-Present. 1/9 chapters. 4.8k words. 33 kudos. 10 comments.)

I published the first chapter of this fic shortly before a bunch of things in my personal life erupted into chaos, and it kind of got pushed to the side and more or less forgotten, but I am working on getting back to this fic! This is probably the most comments I’ve ever gotten on a single chapter of a fic and the support for it was overwhelming. I really do love the story I’m telling and am excited to work on it more. This one is special to me, even if it’s been neglected for a while. This is my first non-Lose Yourself series multi chapter fic and I was so happy to know that people were excited about it. Thank you, everyone, for your support on this fic- I promise you that more is coming in the new year!

Gather Near To Us 🎄

(For Doodling_Doodle. December 15th. 1 chapter. 7.8k words. 5 comments.)

Despite being the calmest and fluffiest of all the fics I wrote this year, this one was somehow the most stressful. I agonized over this one and finished it with about eight minutes to spare… yeah, it was rough. Considering I’m not used to writing fluff, I’m not too unhappy with how it turned out, but I wish I’d been able to give it the time and energy it deserved without being distracted by a lot of craziness in my life. Without the adorable prompt from @doodling-doodle, I wouldn’t have stepped out of my comfort zone and tried writing fluff, so I’m very grateful that I had the opportunity to challenge myself with something new. This was also my second time organizing a fic exchange and I’m genuinely so happy to know how many people love these exchanges! I hope to organize more in the new year!

What’s Next…

I can’t promise when anything I’m working on will be completed and ready to publish, but I’m slowly but surely working on…

The rest of The Wrong World

A one shot prequel to the Lose Yourself series

One of the projects I’m most excited about!!! A dark murder mystery featuring Edgar Allan Poe references and buddy cops Brezziana and Discoball! (Don’t expect this one anytime soon, though - even if I finish it soon, I’m planning on posting it throughout October for spooky season.)

A ghost AU??? 👀

One last thank you to everyone who read any of my fics, to everyone who left kudos or a comment, to everyone who reblogged my posts about these silly little fics, to everyone who made posts about these silly little fics, to this entire fandom for welcoming me into it and allowing me to be a part of it. I’m so happy to be here and to have such kind people to share my works with! Happy New Year, everyone!!! 💕✨

[ceilidho]

What do you recommend to get into writing.?

I have so many ideas in my brain, but I lack the skill. I mean, I know I can write, I’ve written a short story before (back in High School). But I just can’t seem to get my ideas out on paper how I want it to. I guess what I am asking is what do you think helped you write or at least perfect your craft.? You write so beautifully and so vividly. It’s my dream to be able to write like that.

:)

thank you so much!!

mmmm honestly, just writing and reading a lot. unfortunately, it's a skill that you just need to do over and over again in order to get good at it. i've written a lot of very short drabbles (like quick, 1000 word scenes), the first chapter of like a hundred different novels (and then giving up immediately after), poems, short stories, one-shots and incomplete fics for countless fandoms (harry potter, artemis fowl, twilight, naruto, etc). i think i wrote my first story when i was like 12 years old or something, so i've been working at it for a very long time.

and i've taken really long breaks in between (like, 2018-mid 2020 was a wash...i was in school, so i only had the energy to write my essays), so reading a lot is the other half of the equation. it'll help you develop your vocabulary and internal rolodex of expressions/colloquialisms, help develop your taste in literature, and help you start understanding the anatomy of a book (like what makes a good first act, second act, twist, etc).

also, it helps if you can convince yourself that there's nothing really at stake when posting a fic. like, if no one likes it, it's not the end of the world. if you're a bit rusty at first and you're not super confident in your writing skills, it doesn't matter. also, remind yourself that you're already a million times better than any "AI writer" because at least you have the courage to actually try.

and i definitely don't think i've "perfected my craft" btw, i see soooo many faults in my writing and things i need to improve on because as you get better, your standards get higher. idk if there's a moment when you ever reach perfection or whatever. you just keep working at it forever lmaooo

[pastafossa]

Right ok many things have happened in a short amount of time which is where I've been, and most of it is GOOD for once, which is wild when I'm still feeling out of it after being beaten by the Emotional Trauma bat for a few months and I think my body + brain has just kinda short-circuited.

I've been offered a booth spot for my wood carvings at a local witchy market event in April, and I've said yes! If this goes well, it will seriously help my bills and really start getting my name out beyond my normal sellers online. This is huge. I've never done an event before, and my anxiety's through the roof, but mom's agreed to help man the table so that makes me feel a bit better. This is an artsy city and there's tons of tourist traffic in Summer, so establishing myself to the point where I can get into their view would be amazing (tourism is where my teacher sells 75% of his carvings and makes a living).

Additionally, I am now in talks to do a brief, 10-20 minute class on wood this summer at another witchy event run by the same group. If there's enough interest, I might be able to run regular classes (which means more $ as a bonus). This has sort of always been one of my end goals with carving - it's a dying artform, and I LOVE teaching and showing people how easy it is to get into! This is also what my own carving teacher always told me he thought I'd wind up doing eventually: essentially taking his place and continuing to teach others like he taught me.

A couple folks in the community who are published have said they think if I wrote a guide on the various carving woods, their associations, and how to work with them, it would sell, and they're happy to help me. It wouldn't have to be long and it wouldn't be too hard, since most of it is stuff I already have written down for my own notes, but I'm also wondering if this isn't a good way to dip my toe into publishing and see how it goes, especially since I want to publish an AU of TRT one day when it's done. It's not the door into the publishing world I expected to open, but damned if I'm not inclined to take advantage.

I have no idea what to expect going forward. I'm still having some issues after what I went through, but damn, even I can feel this this is a potential path ahead that might do a lot for me.

Anyway, I've got some stuff I've started writing, the promised little one shots, that I'll do before slowly transitioning back into TRT. Ironically, I've used the time to go back over my outline and streamline a few arcs, and had some epiphanies that I think will improve the plot even further. So that was nice, and I think when TRT starts back up, you're going to love what's coming!

Lastly, to the person who dropped that cash into my ko-fi: thank you. You have no idea how much that's helped.

[smallraindrops-blog]

Lullabies for the Stars. 

( Sleep family one shot)

Word count: 1k

Summary:  You and little Morpheus and a late night.

Notes:

I have been horribly depressed, so here is a short that I wrote a while back. Sorry for the lack of fics.

enjoy!

~

You woke up to the quiet whimpering of an infant. 

For a moment of dim awareness, you didn’t remember how or why in the world you were hearing such things. 

Then it hit you, like a sucker punch to the jaw that you didn’t see coming.

It was your son. 

Little starbright Morpheus with his hazy golden eyes and soft white curls, a perfect little copy of Hypnos. 

You had a son. Nerves knotted up in your stomach when you hear his noises grow, like a baby bird calling for its mother.  

He was crying. Again. 

And you were reminded once again how useless you were.

Next to you, Hypnos stirred, his feet brushing against your legs. His long hair spilled  around his shoulders in a halo, his sleep mask crooked on his face. He always had dark circles under his starry eyes but now, they appeared bruised, deep and heavy purple against his pale skin.

Guilt stabbed at you once more, because this was just as much your child as Hypnos’ but it was clear he was carrying the crushing weight of parenthood.

He muttered something only understandable to himself, shifting to move up but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. He blinked at you with one eye, the other one still hidden.

”I got him.” You told Hypnos quietly, pressing a kiss against his forehead. Hypnos slumped, not able to hide how exhausted he was. He sighed deeply, closing his eye as you adjusted the mask for him.

”Are you sure?” He breathed, barely awake, nuzzling against your palm. “Make sure to support his head…”

“I am.” You promised, pulling a blanket up on him higher. By the time you rolled out the bed, Hypnos had already dozed off. Morpheus’ fussing had remained steady, a promise of tears incoming.

You went to the crib, the little mobile of sheeps and clouds moved lazy circles, failing to soothe your child. Placing two hands on the railing of the crib, you stared down at Morpheus.

He was so small, you could hold him in one hand comfortably. Morpheus was pouting, his eyes wet as he met your stare. You weren’t sure if he could actually see you or if you were just a blur. 

You shushed him, reaching down to check on him. He was clean and dry, fine in every other aspect you could think of. Morpheus still had all his tidy toes and fingers. One of his hands grasped around your finger in a firm grip.

Morpheus was still whimpering, his chubby cheeks flushed as he readied himself for a loud cry. You shushed him again, carefully- oh so very carefully- picked him up in the way Pa had shown you, bringing him to your chest with both arms supporting him.

Maybe he was hungry but when you had offered him a bottle, Morpheus turned his head away, sulking just like his dad would. You placed the bottle down, rocking him as you tried to think.

Morpheus made an unhappy noise, a little foot kicking the air.

“Hey. Shhh.” You murmured as you moved farther away from Hypnos, taking Morpheus closer to the hearth, the flames were almost embers. The hearth was a custom piece unlike Hypnos’ old chambers back in the House.

One of the wedding gifts you gave him.

It was made of stone, crafted with swells of blooming poppies and bouncing sheeps and stars along with butterflies. Hypnos adored it and now, you sat before it, bouncing your son as you tried to quiet him down.

“I know I am not your favorite, I can’t blame you.” You rumbled, your voice low as you talked. “Your dad is also my favorite person. Beside you, of course. You really do look just like him, it is uncanny.”

Morpheus went quiet, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. You smiled, hoping that your talking was working. Hypnos would chat to Morpheus all day along, about everything and everyone. Even about old paperwork.

You loved every moment of watching him with Morpheus, the natural way he held their son in his arms made everything in the world right and soft and good.

You moved your hand toward Morpheus and he clumsily grabbed one of your fingers once more.

Morpheus promptly began gumming on you, drooling as he blinked up at you.

Maybe he was teething? But he was still unable to even roll over so he should be too young right? Or maybe not.

Gods, what wouldn’t you give for a parenting book on godlings? All the advice they had been given was so different, each one more useless than the last.

He made a noise, one that sounded suspiciously like he might start crying again. You shifted, your back and head resting on the chaise so he was laying on your chest, still gumming on your finger. 

“I don’t talk much.” You warned him, as you rubbed his small, vulnerable back. “I like to let your dad do the talking. I like his voice. And his terrible jokes. But don’t tell him I said that about his jokes.”

Morpheus grumbled, his little fingers curling and uncurling against your chest but he didn’t sound like he was so close to tears now.  You dipped your head, nose pressed against his head. He had that new baby smell, fresh and milky.

You closed your eyes. “I don’t know how to be a father. But- but I promise I’m going to learn okay? I’m going to do it for you. And for your dad.” 

Morpheus cooed, as if he actually understood what you were saying. 

You and your son stayed there in the stillness, until the heavy lull of Hypnos’ powers sunk into you. 

Hypnos woke up hours later, confused. And his mouth was dry and his head was hurting. He reached out for you, expecting your warm body to be next to his. Only to find cool sheets.

He jerked upward in a blind panic, fumbling to push his eye mask up. The last thing he remembered was Morpheus’ soft cries- 

He stilled when he saw you on the chaise, deep asleep with a quiet, sleeping Morpheus cuddled under your chin. You had a protective hand on his back, keeping him safe even in sleep. 

“Oh.” Hypnos sighed, flopping back down in the bed with his arms sprawled out. He turned his head to gazed upon the sight of you and Morpheus once more. 

He smiled to himself.

[guster-animations]

Kamen Rider Gavv Episode 30 Production Blog

aw gee 2025 SHT how come you get TWO obvious metaphors for the corrupt japanese government that also happen to apply to the current rapidly deteriorating state of the US government

TOKU TRANSLATION MASTERPOST HERE

translated from this website

Looking at the Next Episode

It’s sudden, but I wonder how long it takes for “Gavv” to be made. In the case of Sentai and Rider, it progresses two episodes at a time for each director.

How to make a script: At ordering meetings… What story should we do, and who should it be about? If there are new weapons or forms, everyone also looks at designs. We brainstorm the future plot structure in idle talk. Then, Plot meeting -> First draft meeting -> Second draft meeting -> Final draft completion

Generally, two episodes take three weeks to write.

Filming -> Around two weeks.

Voice-overs -> Post-transformation, Gochizos, and the like. Generally a day of work.

Finishing work -> About a month.

All-rush preview screening… A preview without visual effects, music, or sound effects for the people involved. Slight adjustments may be made here.

Basic editing… Visual effects, color adjustments, etc. Subtitles are added and footage is completed as well. Done twice.

MA… Sound effects and music are added, and sound levels are balanced. Toy sounds are also added here.

First screening… Finally complete!

The reason I wrote this process is because we order things even earlier than we film. Episode 31 and 32’s scripts were written by Hiroki Uchida. It’s his first time writing for “Gavv”. I’ve worked with Uchida on the “Gotchard & Geats” winter movie. He wrote the characters of “Geats” vividly in that script.

When I asked him to do episodes 31 and 32, Gavv had only aired its first few episodes… He had to read 30 episodes of script all at once! He figured out the story’s world and characters all at once, and watched what all-rush footage had been completed at that point… I think I only could have asked Uchida, whose love for Rider seeps from every corner of Gotchard. Thank you very much, Uchida!

Hanto and Rakia, who haven’t been getting along so far for some reason, are stuck together now?! You should definitely look forward to the next episode!

It will be directed by Director Kamihoriuchi. It’s his first time in “Gavv” since episodes 11 and 12. It’s been a while! Director Kamihoriuchi has also been busy for some reason… The scenes in episode 12 where Shoma and Hanto find out each other’s identities was great. It’s that time of year where we say that they should definitely come back. Kamihoriuchi’s style of making shots one-by-one is interesting. Don’t miss it!

(Written by: Naomi Takebe)

The Episode in Short

Thank you for watching Episode 30.

This episode was a series of developments and new information not touched on in the trailer, much less the previous episode. The new chapter won’t slow down, so please look forward to what direction the story will progress in from now on!

The Stomachs’ Family Troubles, Swirling With Love and Hatred

Like the previous episode, the young Lizel throws the Stomach company into chaos this time. I would never have expected that the family Jiip marries into would be the president’s daughter… It was a series of developments that Lango also seemed to want to say, “I didn’t know about this,” to.

Siita appears for the first time in a long time! The Mimic Key destroyed in episode 14 has been repaired. There probably were many people who thought, “He could use the Mimic Key like that?!”.

However, Jiip isn’t able to meet with Siita, and the person reflected in the mirror is someone he dearly misses but can’t reunite with. To become someone you’re not and marry into a powerful family, in order to get revenge… The Stomach family’s drama of love and hate is speeding up.

Kawasaki and Koga finally got to see each other on the set again! Welcome back, Siita.

It’s not only characters that have rushed into the new chapter and made first appearances. The new asset (3D-CG space) nicknamed the “President’s official residence” makes its first appearance in this episode.

When posed with the problem of “how do we give the impression that a new level of power has been added to Gavv’s world?”, we made a request for this episode to Black Frame, who made the assets for the Stomach Company, and they made new assets at a fast pace.

aIt also matches their clothing, but the design uses a noble white that contrasts against the Stomach’s colors! And “the President’s official residence” sounds like a castle-esque building that reigns over the skies, so the Jardak family’s crest designed by Hideki Tajima appears in many places.

When you try looking at the details, you see elaborate designs all over the place. Filming with unfamiliar assets was difficult, but the director also got the shots he wanted, like the ones from the sky to the atrium!

A new Granute, Magen, appears in this presidential residence. He seems to be an extremely powerful person who’s close with the President… and he’s being fed Dark Snacks!?!?

I have a feeling that the President using Dark Snacks for personal reasons could cause problems.

Magen’s voice actor is Wataru Takagi! He’s a corrupt merchant who reflects Director Morota’s idea that “the important people are also bad guys~”. He gave an explosive performance that truly embodies that image!

Dark clouds loom over the Granute world, and thus the Stomach family. Lango’s seat as the company president has been stolen by a young girl, and Glotta, who used to be as violent as she wanted, can’t do much either.

Ochiru the Granute Falls From Trees

Find Director Morota’s cameo in this image!!

Setting aside that joke, there’s a search for the Granute who got away in the last episode! While on the hunt, Shoma goes to a certain candy store to ask for information.

The candy store’s name is “Hidamari”. There’s a cafe space, so it has the name “Candy Cafe”.

The store’s owner that Shoma encounters there is played by Shuhei Handa! His warm gaze with a really kind presence was striking. It seems like he’ll also appear in the next episode, so pay attention to how he’ll be involved in the future!

Higo made a fun battle full of witty remarks for this episode too. He was a basketball spectator last time, but it was uncovered that he’s actually an attendant at a bathhouse. At the time we cast him, we approached him in part because he perfectly fit the part of an old man at a bathhouse. (It’s not a hot bath!!)

A double ice cream transformation and a double Rider kick! Since Frappe has appeared now, we wanted to do an ice cream lineup with Gavv and Valen at any cost! So, they successfully defeat a Granute with richly chilly action in this episode.

There might have been many serious fights recently, but fun action is also good to have!

Off-screen Birthday

Shoji celebrated his birthday during this Morota arc. The troupe’s leader, Chinen, presented his cake!

Happy birthday, Shoji! We took a celebratory photo with everyone, including the director!

Since it’s Rakia, we obviously had to do pudding. 🍮 We asked a cake shop close to the set, and they made a special, extra-large pudding cake! LOL

Furthermore, not only Shoji but also Tsukada celebrated their birthdays during this Morota episode! What a birthday rush! Satoshi Morota is a birthday-attracting director.

Our Lango was able to celebrate his birthday with his entire family (including his new sister-in-law Lizel)~!

The Stomach family’s situation is chaotic, but on the set, they’re always kind to each other, and they all celebrated with him.

(Written by: Ryohei Takahashi)

[syncopein3d]

CW: discussion of a real life death / loss of a parent

Hey, whump community! I know I haven't been around as much lately, and I'm sorry to the person who tagged me in a game recently and I didn't reply. I'm pretty new around here compared to many of you, but I have a few followers now, so I thought I'd do a small update. This is about some difficult personal stuff, so you don't have to read this, I just thought I should maybe explain because I hate it when people vaguepost about how they're doing poorly and I don't want to be that person. Just know that I appreciate you all and whump has helped get me through a bad time.

I've mentioned at least once that we lost my Dad in July '24. He collapsed at home on the bedroom floor. I did compressions until the EMTs came and took over, and he died at the hospital. All our lives revolved around his medical and personal care for years before that. Me and Mom and my sibs are still trying to build a new life for ourselves. I'm mostly over the nightmares from that specific night, the guilt that I wasn't better at cpr, and the worst emotional fallout, but none of us will be "normal" for a long time. I am not young, but you're never really ready for something like this. Sometimes even people whose parents are awful still aren't. Dad, while our relationship was complicated (I've never been out to him about being agender, I think he guessed I was ace), was part of my life consistently for pretty much all of it to date.

I will not share the details, but things were pretty awful in the hours before it became clear he wasn't going to wake up and we had his ventilator removed. All of us were in the room with him right up to the end.

After a bunch of connected bits I wrote proved ineligible for a big event and I'd written over 30k words, I really wanted to turn them into a novel about this modern supernatural clinic for vampires, witches and hunters (set in the Trifold Balance universe my Jack Ford one shot is in and also the now very long Left Alone). Obviously, I haven't finished it. I just couldn't put myself into a medical environment for a while, even a very fictionalized modern fantasy one. I've been writing drabbles and short pieces off and on, and interacting sporadically with other people's work.

My bigger regency-era fantasy wip, closer to 200k words now, also was untouched for months apart from basic edits, because I just didn't have the mental energy to write. Yesterday I wrote another 1200 words on it for the first time in ages. I finally have some hope for being able to finish this thing and maybe, just maybe, eventually the other one, too.

I have all of you to thank for that, because all of your prompts and bits and stories helped keep bringing me back to what I love about writing. I'm still 17 lbs heavier than before the funeral (down from 20), I have psoriatic plaques on my face when I never have before, and I still sleep slightly worse than before it happened. If I hear anything like a thud in the house I still run there in a panic. But things are slowly improving for me as they do for all of us. And this place is where I can go away from the part of myself that isn't better yet.

I'll go back to just the fun parts after this, I promise, but thank you. We hardly know each other, but I appreciate you and your writing and reading and comments so, so much. None of us is normal here, but I've always felt at home.