#she just gives off such fix-it fic vibes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fillinforlater · 4 months

Text

SULLied MINd

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Seol Yonna (Sullyoon)

Length: 10.228 words

Tags: art-project all nighter turns threesome, secret crushes, softly making out, stripping, striptease, shy to bold, double blowjob, worshiping cock and balls, cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, facial, cumsluts, virginity taken, missionary, sweat, stocking kink, riding, rimming, stand and carry, cum drinking, lots of perverted thoughts, lucky!you

TW: I barely finished this in time, so the editing is not that in depth lol

Inspiration: Minju and Sullyoon just go together very well, dunno if @sinswithpleasure was the first to give this idea, but the pairing definitely comes from The Bunker... the rest is my own craziness

(A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL! Happy Minju day to everyone, I hope you enjoy this fic which was supposed to be like around 4-5k...)

“No, you gotta put it in here, not in there!”

“I-I can’t, my hand is too big for the hole.”

“Then try using your fingers, that should work.”

“Eh, okay, but you need to hold onto the legs, otherwise it’ll fall over.”

“Let me get in between the—ah, Minju, watch out! Now my hand is all white.”

“Oops, Sorry.”

The struggle behind you is real, the struggle in front of you—the unfinished essay due tomorrow that is—is real too, but those spoken words cannot be real. You know exactly what Minju and Sullyoon are referring to when talking about white stuff and holes and size. After all, they are working hard to wrap up the project all of you have procrastinated on for so long and it’s bound to be a mess.

You start to trip over your own unspoken words. The lewdness in your mind is unfathomable, a mess can be a mess without mess being the wild, chaotic, imaginary sex that seems to creep into your brain more and more.

No, focus. It’s just a mess because Sullyoon and Minju still don’t know how to put together the human-sized post-modern sculpture of a robot made from cardboard, newspapers and glue—white glue, that drips from Sullyoon’s hand as she tries to shove a painted cardboard cylinder into—

You did it again. Your thoughts are betraying you.

“What are you looking at?” Sullyoon nags, when she spots your dreamy gaze on her hand. Wait, are you drooling? What the fuck is happening?

“N-nothing, nothing,” you quickly turn around and look at the pathetic pile of words that neither make sense nor reach the required minimum amount to pass. “It’s just that—you two are too loud, I can’t concentrate.”

Minju throws you a concerned look, while Sullyoon aggressively wipes her hands on a paper towel and hits you over the head with a piece of cardboard. Now there’s some stickiness in your hair

“Oh yeah? You’re still the furthest behind—I’ll do the writing, I can’t build for shit—that’s what you said and you are still not finished.”

“Sully, please, don’t scream,” Minju groans and gets on her knees in between the sculptures legs, her head on level with what could be its crotch. “Let’s just focus, okay? Can you give me the, uhm, white stuff? I need to fix the butt.”

And now Minju is spreading glue all over the—it’s better you look away and focus on the task ahead. The essay should go over all the different periods of, uhm. Or maybe the various stages during, some-thing? Perhaps the teacher wants a concise summary of how you came up with the idea and created the illusion of Sullyoon sticking her fingers in Minju’s pussy and making her face contort into—

“You’re drooling!” Sullyoon shouts and hits you again.

“Sully, please!” Minju tries to calm the situation down.

“What? Can I not be angry that this lazy ass is just daydreaming—”

“Sully, language! And stop screaming!”

“You’re both screaming and shouting, how should I concentrate?”

“You—”

Sullyoon is about to throw hands. Though they both might give off a similar reserved, kind, beauty vibe to the unsuspecting outsider, Sullyoon and Minju are quite different. It shows now more than ever, when Sullyoon slams her fist on the desk next to you and stares you down into the chair, while Minju sits on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, head lowered in defeat and annoyance.

“Stand up,” Sullyoon orders, her grip on your biceps harsh, as if she tried to scar you with her nails. “I’ll do it, save the project while you can fuck off.”

“The fuck?” you shout back, face angry. Sullyoon’s hand is slapped away and you’re about to fight more if she doesn’t back off. “You won’t do anything, and don’t curse at me. Who do you think you are?”

“Guys—”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable!” Sullyoon interrupts Minju and opens her adorable eyes wide in rage. “You’re gonna fail us with that—pathetic excuse of a text.”

“It would be better if you could keep your mouth shut, Sullyoon, and let me finish this in peace. Also, the robot is still not upright. If he falls over, Miss Kwon will rip our heads off.” You can barely hold yourself together. The only positive thoughts for Sullyoon, if you can call them that, are the lewd ones, those imagining her naked, her navel exposed, her pussy bare.

“Guys, I—!”

“Oh and that’s my fault? I bet your drool will make it unstable. I swear if you turn around one more time—”

“Then what? You’ll beat me, assault me? I think Miss Kwon won’t give you a better grade then—”

An ear-shattering boom. The door is shut, the door to Minju’s room—Minju, who is not with you anymore. For such a kind and bubbly girl, this fight must have killed her. She was the one suggesting that you all do the project at her place, with her parents out of town. She made cookies beforehand and had something planned for dinner too.

“I-I think we overdid it,” Sullyoon sums it up with an usually soft whisper and you nod in shame. Minju has been nothing short of an excellent host for the two of you.

Suddenly, Sullyoon’s phone rings. She doesn’t get time to answer it however, as the caller seems to end the call within a moment's notice.

“I’ll be out, gimme a second,” Sullyoon says and runs to the door.

“Sure.” She didn’t even hear that, that’s how quiet your voice was. Outside, you hear Sullyoon hurrying down the stairs. There is turmoil in your head about what you ought to do. Should you just sit here and wait for them to come back? Is it better if you go downstairs as well, apologize to Minju, so the three of you can continue with the project? Should you continue alone, perhaps?

You decide on option four: sneak towards the door, carefully open it and then lay low while trying to pick up what they are talking about. They surely aren’t fighting anymore, but their voices are loud enough for you to clearly hear every word.

“It was stupid of me, okay? Can we go back upstairs and finish our sculpture?” Sullyoon asks with loving care.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Minju sniffles. “This was embarrassing.”

“What do you mean? You weren’t embarrassing, we were. This fight was—”

“No, you don’t get it, Sully!”

Now things seem to get heated. You can hear Minju jumping up from a chair, while Sullyoon gasps.

“Then explain it to me, Minju!”

“Okay, screw it.

“I like him, okay? Two years, I have waited two years for us to finally be in a project—and now you two are fighting! You are ruining my chances with him!”

The silence is deafening. If you weren’t lying prone on the floor already, your knees would have collapsed and you would’ve landed in the same spot anyways. What a revelation! For the first time in your life, you believe that either your ears are deceiving you or that you’re in the most lucid dream imaginable. Never before has a girl had feelings for you—

“This can’t be real,” Sullyoon suddenly laughs out loud. “You like this guy?”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Minju hisses back, whiny, like she’s about to cry. “He is very-very handsome a-and I’ve seen his abs. He is also smart, have you heard him talk about history? It’s so attractive.”

“Yeah, of course I have, he is like talking non-stop in history class.” Sullyoon’s tone has shifted from shocked and dismissive to a bit dreamy, almost like she is admiring you. “And the way he pronounces all these foreign words, or how he gives it his all in PE—”

“Wait a minute,” Minju interjects and you can hear the grin as it forms on her face. “You like him too, Sully!”

“Not anymore, not after his lazy ass didn’t do a damn thing during our project.” Another second of silence, then both of them start laughing hysterically, one is stomping on the floor, the other tries to cover her mouth to muffle the loudness.

You’ve heard enough. No, seriously. At this point, you could die happily. Two of the prettiest girls in the entire school like you and both of them are in your project group which will surely last until the next morning at your current pace. What else could you want more? Countless guys would kill to have such an opportunity.

But you want more.

“Crazy, we have the same crush. Oh, have you seen the pictures of his abs?” Minju asks excitedly after the two have finished their laughing fit.

“No, but I was about to ask: how did you get those?” Sullyoon gasps again and then giggles while both start to whisper. The whispers are too quiet, you can barely pick up any syllables. This marks the perfect moment to get back in front of the PC so they won’t catch you eavesdropping when they come back up. It also gives you time to think about what you want to do.

The image of them and their crush on you hasn’t fully settled yet, however, you’re already planning how this night might continue, what might happen, what you should say. Unlike during exams, you don’t feel pressure or tension that’s about to crush you—there is just excitement and a feeling of being loved.

“Hey, we-we are back,” Minju says a few minutes later, her face all red when she enters her room. Sullyoon follows after her, her hair a bit messier than before. Unlike Minju, she is able to hide her feelings for you quite well, now that you know.

“Hey,” you respond with a soft voice. “Look, Minju, I’m so sorry about earlier. I should’ve done my job. I won’t let you guys down this time, I promise. Sullyoon, if you want to, you can write the text. Sorry that I was so rude earlier.”

“I-it’s fine.” Both their voices seem to break when you stand up and give each an apologetic bow. With your new knowledge, you assume that this is a good sign, like selecting the correct dialogue option in a video game.

“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Sullyoon asks and you nod.

“It’s settled then.” Minju grabs a wrist from you and a wrist from Sullyoon and has this adorable, bright smile on her beaming face. “Let’s not fight anymore and finish this dang project!”

“You are absolutely right, Minju!” you gleefully say. “You two are pretty awesome, so I’ll give it my all.”

Both their breaths pick up in pace; who would have thought that you could make the hearts of girls flutter with just a bright, sunshine smile. Sullyoon and Minju quickly dive back into work, ears still red, and you pretend to be completely unaware. Unaware of their feelings, unaware of their hopes, unaware of their—potentially sullied thoughts.

But could those two angelic looking girls really have the same impurities in their minds as you do? Can it match your fantasies of one of them admitting their love to you tonight, you kissing, cuddling and fucking secretly in the bathroom, while the other continues to work on the project? Maybe they have similar thought, but did they ever consider—

“Can you, uhm, hand me the, eh—” Minju stutters and taps her temple in thought. She looks adorable doing so.

“Do you need the model? Some cardboard? Scissors?” you ask back but Minju shakes her head, a bit abashed that she lacks the focus to say which item she needs. Thinking of scissors, your fantasy does not stop at some one-on–one lovemaking. You’d want the other to join, all three of your tongues in a make out session while your hand is in the back of their panties. You want to fondle their butts and hear them moan before they would scissor, their wet pussies rubbing up and down your manhood until you explode.

“I need the… white stuff.”

“You need the white stuff—from me?”

A quiet whisper, Sullyoon could not have picked it up. Minju halts for a second, then her face turns beet red and she hides it behind her palms, while her eyes keep looking at your awfully-well played innocent expression. Worriedly, you reach for her face and Minju gasps. What does she expect? Certainly not what follows.

“Oh, there is some glue in your hair, Minju. Guess we should wash out the white stuff~”

With that said, you grab her hand and pull her out of her bedroom. To the surprise of Sullyoon, whose questions go unheard, you and Minju enter the upper floor bathroom. There you immediately find a wet towel and start to rub Minju’s hair, and with every second that you dishevel her hair, you also seem to dishevel her mind.

Minju is perplexed, trembling, unable to react to you, especially when you inch closer and really focus on that annoying spot. The two of you forgot to turn on the bathroom lights, so there is only the dim moonlight to reveal to you the absolute dream that are Minju’s eyes: full of love, uncertainty and want.

“I think I got it out,” you finally whisper and drop the towel. “Sorry for messing up your hair.”

Minju smiles softly: “N-no, thank you. You might have saved it, a-actually.”

“Minju—” A moment of silence, full of purpose, of tension, but you bask in it. You can hear Minju’s heart racing and if you’re honest, the muscle in your chest is pumping like crazy as well. “You, you are very beautiful, one of the prettiest girls on this planet.”

“Re-really!?”

“Yes. I wish I could

“Kiss your lips; they look so soft.”

They are so soft, no doubt about it, especially when they accept you so willingly at first and then won’t let go when you try to pull back a little. Minju is on cloud nine and she wants to stay. Her adorable hands hold onto your sleeves, while you hold the back of her head securely in the palm of your hand. There is no tongue movement, there is no tongue movement needed, because it all comes together for her—

A fairy tale moment, out of nowhere, for the girl with her crush.

But your play isn’t over. After a short while, you regretfully remove yourself from her lips and continue to hold her close, hand on the small of her back. When you look down you are greeted by a look—this look of mesmerized love, with teary eyes of joy and panting lips of desire on Minju’s flawless features. How could you want more?

This is how mankind moves forward: by wanting what they don’t yet have.

“Minju,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I—before we continue, and I really do want to—I have to tell you something.”

“Y-yes?”

“I like you, I really, really like you.

“But you know how multiple people can have the same crush? I, my heart, has this issue that—I, I like multiple people! I can never escape it, there is nothing I can do. That doesn’t mean that my love isn’t real—I just want to be honest with you.”

Minju, in the midst of all these surprises and twists and turns for her, looks surprisingly calm and nods carelessly. Of course she is a bit dazed, after all, your lips were just on hers and she can take them back just by getting on her toes, but this should still be a bit weird for her. At least, that is what you assumed.

“I-I don’t care,” she suddenly blurts out and her arms wrap around you tightly. “Why should I judge you? There are probably so many pretty girls out there. I-I’m just happy that you… noticed me.”

“Are you for real?” In a sudden surge of happiness, you lift Minju up and spin her around. “You are so wonderful, I know why I fell in love with you.”

This should wrap up your Oscar performance—well, it’s already beyond that. At this point the feelings for Minju feel more than just acted. How could they not? She is gorgeous, light, her lips are tender, her character adorable and you cannot escape what your heart is telling you: love her, because she loves you.

There is however still—

“Pl-please! Please love me too!”

A loud scream, and Sullyoon bursts into the room. You may not be able to see the correct colors of her face, but you know she is either pale because Minju ‘stole’ you from her or she is red all over because she thinks there is a chance, a tiny chance that you also like her. Nonetheless, all these thoughts become irrelevant, because Minju almost collapses from shock. You catch her before she is able to hit her head on the sink.

The bathroom door still rattles, but the three of you just stare at one another, eyes wide open. The situation is so absurd, you must be dreaming, dead or in heaven—all at the same time, Minju’s entire existence is in your arms and Sullyoon seems willing to join her. She is close, her hands folded as if she is begging for your love. Her breath is hot, right in your face and so unsteady.

“Sullyoon.” Minju’s voice is faint, not even a whisper, but it’s loud. It’s both a statement and a question, a question directed at you. Is this what you were talking about earlier? Could it really be that the two who have a crush on you, would not have to fight? To put it very simply: Do you love Sullyoon too?

At least tonight, you do.

“I—

“I do, actually.” Those few words have you out of breath, before you can continue, Sullyoon has taken a spot in your arms next to Minju. The speed with which your dreams come true is mind boggling, but you play it cool and hold both of them close, an arm around each of their waists.

“You mean it?” Sullyoon has never sounded this cute, not in class, not during breaks and definitely not tonight. Who can resist her with those pouty lips that adorn silky smooth, perfectly symmetrical features? “You really like me?”

“Yes, I do, I like you both. This, this has to be a dream.”

“What, uhm,” Minju stutters and looks at you, similar expression to Sullyoon, her eyes also beaming, her chin tilted towards you—their similarities become uncanny in this dimly lit bathroom. “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper and smile.

“We still have a project to finish,” Sullyoon sighs and puts her head against your chest, which does not make for a good pillow with its constant up and down movement and Minju right next to her.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should finish it. Let’s focus and then maybe our thoughts are a bit more… sorted.” Both girls nod, but it takes some more convincing before they let you go. The fear that they could lose you to the other makes them stay a bit longer until you have to push through them. It’s a playful struggle, which is only resolved when the three of you go back to Minju’s room.

All is quiet for a good, productive thirty minutes. The cardboard sculpture is finally painted and read to dry, the text only needs a few more tweaks, the project is in its final stage. All you can think about, however, are your groupmates, especially when your sight drifts away from the task ahead to their faces, their hands, their hips.

“Minju, can you help me?” Sullyoon groans. “I need to finish, this bottom part is so hard!”

“Of course, let me just—put this here and this into that—do you think it fits now?”

“It still looks too big, don’t you think? Maybe we should stretch it—”

“Or we could share it? I think if we both do it, it will be better.”

Hit yourself on your forehead, because the brain behind it once again can only think of the lewd. Minju and Sullyoon are trying their best to format this text and split it into fair portions for the presentation—yet all you think about is how they admire your big cock, share it in between their parted lips and then, Minju helps Sullyoon to go down on it with her throat.

After you are all covered in her spit, Sullyoon would grab your base and put it on Minju’s folds, ease you into her and all kinds of moans would fill the room and alert all neighbors who are still awake.

“I think this is good,” Minju ultimately concludes and turns to you. “Do you want to take a look too?”

You shake your head. “Uhm, no, I’m sure it’s excellent. Wow, looks like we really finished it.”

“Okay, so.” Sullyoon spins around in her chair, hands hidden in between her thighs and everything vibrates. “Are we going to talk now about… our situation?”

“I think we are all adults, we can talk about it.” Minju fidgets a bit and looks at you. They are both waiting for you to say something, but you just smirk without a worry in the world and lay down on Minju’s bed.

“Sure, we can talk. Let’s be honest, be free. Don’t care what the rest things, just

“Tell me what you feel.”

Sullyoon pushes the chair closer to you with her feet and Minju sits down on her bed, less bold than Sullyoon, because her eyes are fixed on the other end of the mattress. You get her attention when you fingers lock with hers, but the first to speak up is Sullyoon.

“I think I have a crush on you. Two years ago it started and I can’t explain why, but—you grew very handsome during that time a-and you’re pretty smart, so—”

“I feel the same!” Minju suddenly shouts and her fingers squeeze yours tightly. “And sorry, I-I once took a picture of your, uhm, abs when you changed your shirt. It was stupid, I’ll delete it right now—”

You laugh and pull Minju on top of you. Now her gaze cannot escape yours anymore and she has to see the true awe in your eyes. A natural awe for her beauty, her kindness and the way her honesty reveals all those secret feelings.

“Delete them if you like,” you hum and place the palm of Minju’s hand on your abdomen while flexing your muscles. “But you can take some more high quality pictures, if you want to.”

Jealousy overtakes a formerly hesitant Sullyoon and she pounces onto the bed next to you. Her hands are still hidden in between her thighs, but you can see that she wants to touch what Minju is already groping.

Sullyoon doesn’t even have to ask. You grab her wrist and slowly guide it under your sweatshirt. Though she tries to act shocked and abashed, you can feel her digits roaming all over your abs greedily as she visibly drools. Minju had most of your attention until now. Now it’s Sullyoon’s turn to feel your love in the form of a wet kiss pressed right onto her already wet lips. Unlike Minju, she tries to go all in on the first go, but you quickly pull away with a chuckle and watch her eager tongue searching for your mouth.

“Sully, open your eyes,” you softly laugh at her and drag a finger over her flushed, tender cheek as she does so. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going anywhere. If you are okay with it, I can love you both with all my heart.”

“I want to share you,” she says with determination and immediately contradicts her statement by lunging at you and starting a torrential kiss that has Minju hiding her face behind her long, cascading hair. It’s all faux, because in the meantime, she has rolled up your sweatshirt to your chest. Gently she pokes your pecs and you giggle into the kiss with Sullyoon.

“Good to know we are all on the same page,” you finally voice your own feelings when Sullyoon backs off to catch her breath. “I think I could cuddle you both for the rest of the night and forget every worry, every task, every stupid responsibility ahead of us.”

Funny how your dreams come true, again. An arm around each of their waists, you pull Minju and Sullyoon deeper into the softness of pillows and blankets generously spread on Minju’s mattress. Both your cheeks are quickly peppered with kisses, cute, hesitant ones from Minju, from chin to ear and wild, playful ones from Sullyoon, from the edge of your collarbone to your lips. She seals them again and this time you can hear Minju become jealous with a loud huff.

This back and forth of envy, you see no way to disrupt it anytime soon. Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to. This dynamic pushes them further to reveal more of their love, so give them what they want. You are theirs to love and play with—but you will play with them too.

“Minju,” you say, your voice purposefully low and more serious than before. “You have such amazing hips. They are wide and look so perfect on you.”

You turn towards her and reach for the top of her skirt. Insert a couple fingers into it and let them glide along the waistband until you reach the outermost point of her hips. Minju tenses up when you begin to grab her hips, the skin of your palms right on her underwear, slipped into her skirt. You pull her even closer and she is back to holding onto your sleeves.

“Such nice hips.” Rub them, and Minju starts to rub herself on you, face on your bare chest and crotch on your thigh. Speaking of thighs, Sullyoon might have felt neglected for a second, so you find her mouth with ease and bully her tongue with yours while putting a hand on her inner thigh. Sullyoon shrieks the more you touch her jeans-clad legs, no matter if you go down to where her calves begin or if you go up to where her pussy is aching.

“Wow, Sully, your legs, your thighs are fantastic. I bet they are very soft.”

“T-touch them more, please,” Sullyoon softly whimpers and you nod. Minju is too enamored with her own thighs around yours, she does not realize her friend popping open her jeans and sliding them down. Your hesitation, your careful planning gets thrown out of the window when you slide your hand over her soft skin and go to bite her lips.

“They are the softest, damn, I could knead them all day long.” Your hot breath mixes with Sullyoon when you go from some basic thigh stimulation to cupping her sex and pressing your palm on her covered clit. “Your panties are cute too~”

No time to focus on Sullyoon’s embarrassed face, because Minju’s takes your entire view. You try to kiss her mouth but she backs off, even climbs off the bed and stands next to it. Both her hands firmly grasps the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turn white—that’s how hard she grabs it while her voice sounds absolutely love drunk:

“I-I have cute panties too,” she complains and lifts her skirt up, higher than you thought she would dare to. Not only you, her crush, that can see this most private part, but her friend can as well. Your eyes are glued to the small, pink garment with its tiny wet spot at the front, very cute indeed, maybe even cuter than Sullyoon’s baby blue panties which at this point become ruined on your hand.

“They are really cute, Minju.” You smile, she cracks a small smile. “I did not know you two had such lewd minds and wild fantasies.”

“Can we see y-your underwear now?” Sullyoon avoids your statement with a pout while simultaneously confirming it. Minju joins her nods, skirt still held high, her panties just a bit wetter at the thought of you. “Yes, please, we-we want to see it, it’s only fair!”

“Hm, how about a deal then, my two lewd girlfriends: I’m all yours, you can undress me and play with me until you are satisfied, but first you give me a show. I want you two undressing each other slowly. Sounds like a deal?”

At this point, everything is so out of control, you might as well ask for a favor that usually would get you kicked out. After all, this isn’t porn, not every girl is into girls and into threesomes, but Minju and Sullyoon have shown to be so needy for you, their libido will take over all reasoning. To no surprise, both only hesitate for a second.

“I’m okay with that,” Sullyoon whispers. “You too, Minju?” She leaves the spot in your arm and walks behind her friend. “Are you okay with me touching you?”

“S-sure.” They both get into it quickly. Minju drops her arms and lets them dangle while her needy face is directed at you. Sullyoon makes sure you can see her fingers play with the waistband of Minju’s skirt, just like you did, and she teases you by only pulling down one side, then the other. It’s only when you groan in disapproval that she moves upwards and pulls Minju’s sweatshirt over her head.

You totally expected a bra behind this comfy, cotton barrier, but no: Minju is wearing a white shirt underneath and the tease just continues. Sullyoon finds the lowest button first and works her way up, sending chills down Minju’s spine.

An amazing midriff, toned abs around a cute little navel; you can’t help but ogle when Sullyoon presses her fingers into them and gasps in surprise. No words need to be spoken—that’s probably how Minju likes it more as well. She struggles to relax, especially when the final button pops and her shirt opens like curtains to reveal her bra, the same color as her panties, erect nipples visible through the thin garment.

“May I?” Sullyoon asks, basically blowing the question into Minju’s ear as her hands already fiddle with the clasp of the bra. The sound of silence is nothing but hot breaths and the faint creaking of Minju’s bed as you adjust yourself to get closer with her still-covered breasts.

Still covered.

“O-okay,” Minju whispers, whines, it doesn’t matter, you finally get to see her upper body in all its glory, and you find glory to be an understatement: her breasts are perfectly symmetrical, not saggy but quite perky and a bit smaller than your hands. You could cover them up and knead them without much effort; it takes effort however to not look absolutely overwhelmed as your dreamy eyes focus on erect nipples and round arolae.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon asks the question with an answer that is obvious but hard to put into words.

“Minju, your body looks…

“... very, very hot. I-I’ve never seen something so flawless.”

“And you haven’t even seen what’s behind this~” Sullyoon’s voice is sultry as she taps Minju’s skirt. She once again teases you, her smooth hand under the skirt and once you hear Minju shriek, you know what she is about to do.

Sullyoon removes those stained panties, while Minju still wears her skirt. The miniscule petite underwear wraps around her ankles while her dainty digits wrap around the hem of her skirt. At this point, your drool cannot be held back. You need to see her most private place.

“Let, let me do it!” Minju says with confidence and as if she’s as impatient as you are, pulls the skirt up and shuts her eyes. Sullyoon chuckles lightly and gets a hold of Minju’s hips, while you are about to dive into those wet folds, small and pink and definitely untouched. You notice a small strip of hair above her clit which looks like it should twitch at any moment. Minju’s visible arousal becomes your visible arousal and before you can end the teasing session and start a new session, Sullyoon interrupts you:

“Shouldn’t Minju undress me now?”

“Wha—oh… yeah, sure,” you respond and hold your horny horses. Minju looks a bit dazed when she drops the skirt and opens her eyes again. You help her gain focus by reaching for her hands and holding them. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Minju, you are perfect down there as well.”

“Re-really?”

“Yes, I’d never lie to the girls I love.

“Now, why don’t you help Sullyoon get out of those… tight jeans?”

Sullyoon smirks. Without you noticing it, she pulled her pants back up and made sure that they showed the outline of her shapely butt. She is a tease like no one before or after; fortunately, Minju seems to not get what teasing is about: with you still right beside her, she puts all her strength at pulling the denim down—the denim and Sullyoon’s panties.

“Eh, what are you—Minju!” Sullyoon complains loudly.

“So-sorry, did I do it wrong?”

“You, you were too fast!” The shyness returns to Sullyoon’s face as she buries it in the crook of her arm.

“No reason to fight,” you ease the flames of conflict burning before you. “I think Minju did a great job and your butt is great, Sullyoon.”

“No, don’t say that, it’s too big!”

“I’m gonna say it again.” You emphasize your words with a good squeeze on both her cheeks while Minju’s wide eyes are on the dumpy before her. “You have a fantastic butt, not too big, definitely not too small, perfect.”

Your kneading hands leave Sullyoon a mewling mess, speechless, even as Minju goes and undresses her further. It’s all a lot quicker, the top is removed easily, the bra falls with a simple click and Sullyoon is the first to be fully nude. She stops your continued handsy attacks on her ass with a spin around. Unlike Minju, her pussy is freshly shaven and her entire body looks like it was made just for this moment.

“Someone is prepared,” you say with a smile and drag a finger up her midriff to her tits which are nice handfuls of their own, similar in size and shape to Minju’s.

“You are mean,” Sullyoon pouts and suddenly starts to embrace you. You gasp. Her body is almost scorching hot. “I waited so long for this.”

“I bet you couldn’t look better. No dream, no imagination can make your body look any sexier.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”

The sound of someone crawling onto the bed gets your attention. Minju lays next to you, her skirt finally kicked away and she stretches her arms forward in search of your embrace. That poor girl is desperate, however, you don't make it to her before Sullyoon unzips your pants.

“It’s only fair if we get to see you too, right, Minju?” Sullyoon asks, her tone making it clear that the answer cannot differ from her needs.

“Should I strip for you too?” you say with a witty smile, but Minju comes to Sullyoon’s aid.

“Enough teases, I—I can barely think!”

The striptease must have set something in motion within Minju: her shyness is only apparent on her fully red cheeks, her hands have already taken a different path. Boldly, they yank down both your pants and briefs in strong pulls, past your erection, which comes back swinging at her. Minju dodges it, because she can’t stop looking at Sullyoon behind you, arms resting on your shoulder, lips suckling at your neck.

“So big!” Minju can’t hold back her shock and awe at the shape, the bend, the size.

“Yeah,” Sullyoon dreamily adds. “We really have to share him from now on.”

Things are out of control. Every further plan of slowly getting to your dream threesome scenario are useless, laughable, when both your new lovers shove you down into the mattress and somehow find space on and in between your legs to intently stare at and past your phallus. Minju and Sullyoon are often not on the same page, sometimes polar opposites in class, but tonight they are more than united.

While Minju is in awe at how you throb and seemingly still grow into the air, Sullyoon eagerly spits into her hand and slowly spreads her saliva on your shaft. The thoughtfulness, carefulness and softness of her fingers make every pump of hers fade into absurdity. Right from the get go, Sullyoon’s handjob is already on the level of jerking yourself off.

“Have you ever done this, Minju?”

“N-no, never. Not even close.”

“I—only have with not real dicks.” The two blush, but there is no need to intervene. Unlike in most classes, they are eager to study for themselves, learn new tricks and test them on you.

“How about you start down at his… sac, while I go from the top?” Sullyoon suggests and Minju nods. However, you still see hesitance in her eyes, probably because she is afraid of screwing things up or making it awkward.

“They are full for you, Minju,” you softly coo and brush her hair as she almost puts her lips on them. Okay, maybe she needs the tiniest of pushing to finally— “Put your lips on them, give them a kiss. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Sullyoon is definitely not afraid. She wraps her mouth around your cockhead and begins to twirl her tongue around it. The taste of your precum must have urged her on, because she hums happily and sucks loudly. It’s like your cock is the straw in her favorite drink, that's how aggressively she sucks and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Meanwhile Minju sneakily tries to find the best spot to wrap her lips around your crown jewels, her adorable expression unpurified when she decides to go for it.

“Oh fuck!” you groan and your body arches involuntarily. More of your manhood is pressed onto their faces, into their eagerly drooling holes; it makes you wonder if you even need their pussies if this already feels so heavenly. The eagerness and playfulness of Sullyoon paired with the gentleness and sweetness of Minju makes for a double blowjob that could drain you embarrassingly fast.

Something inside your stomach tells you to just release it. Let them suck, let them play, until you just release it all over them without worry in deep bliss. Before that happens, you have to get back at them. It would be quite the disappointing night if this was your only load and they wouldn’t have any stimulation until then. You have to come up with a plan, while Sullyoon pops you from her mouth with a deep moan.

“Minju, let’s switch,” she suggests. “He tastes really good, you have to try it. Don’t worry about the size, I couldn’t take it either.”

“Oh, okay, his, his balls are quite hard. Does this mean they are full?”

“Fuck, yes,” you interrupt their horny conversation, ready to announce your plan. A plan that will surely distract you and them to the point all of you will have the best of fun. “After you’ve switched, how about you turn your butts towards me? You’re doing a fantastic job, I want to return the favor.”

They lock eyes, then look at you and nod. Sullyoon has this grin on her lips, as if she can’t wait for your fingers and tongue on her labia. Minju, again, might look quite abashed, but she is quicker than Sullyoon when it comes to showing you her behind. The sight of her bare ass, tiny pink pussy and thighs spilling out of black stockings has you drooling, almost neglecting Sullyoon’s equally remarkable offer.

Sadly, you only have one tongue and so you dive into Minju’s cunt first. In what has to be the most mind-melting moment in her life, the beautiful girl sucks in your addictive taste while for the first time, someone touches her virgin sex. Minju moans around your length while you lick all the way from her clit to her asshole in long quick swipes. You watch her body tremble and decide to put an arm around it so she doesn’t sway away from your mouth, which digs into her sensitive folds.

Speaking of sensitive folds, your other hand has found more of those. Sullyoon’s innie, beautifully smooth, spills wetness forth and guides you to the well-lubricated entrance. You don’t even have to see anything to slip your middle finger inside her. Sullyoon gasps and nuzzles her soft cheek against your balls, while a little bit higher, Minju has lost all shame.

“Yummy, yummy,” she babbles every half second when your cock leaves her mouth. The two of you seem to share the same thought: These perverted fluids are delicious, I better get as much as I can.

In your mutual delight, Sullyoon momentarily rips you out of it, just to make things even better. She bunches up Minju’s hair in a hand and starts to put her lips on Minju’s. Their tongues battle, luckily your tip is there to separate them, though it does not want peace: it wants all out war.

For this brilliant idea, you decide to switch and bury your face in Sullyoon’s ass then quickly move to her cunt and pierce it open with your wet muscle, the same muscle Minju’s twitching hole misses. She has to finish on your hand, so you decide to twirl her exposed clit in between your fingers.

The greatest trio in the world's most renowned orchestra could not compare to the harmonies your different moans produce. They are unfiltered, not played for a camera, not exaggerated—but still so loud, booming, climactic, when Sullyoon shutters. Her juices gush into your mouth, more when she leans back and presses her pussy on your face.

Minju follows quickly, almost sitting on and riding your hand as it lays there, fingers tapping upwards, against her nub. Her orgasm is not as wet, but you feel the bed shake when she cums and seemingly goes to another reality. You’re glad she physically stays, her tongue still eager at your slit—and Sullyoon is on the other side, making out with her and your cockhead.

You're incredibly hard, an iron-like rod, a tip that is purple and sensitive yet absolutely numb and only begging for what might as well be the best and final release. The thought of this ever happening again does not cross your mind, a void of nothing but pleasure. You have to give it your all now and so you buckle upwards in between their sandwiching lips and explode without warning.

“Fuuuck,” Sullyoon groans. Minju yelps, a high pitch as she still rides out her own orgasm on your palm. Your first is bombastic, a shot up in the air that rains down on their faces while the rest is equally distributed on their tender cheeks, silky lips, hot tongues. No need to mention that a lot ends up in places where the clean up will be more annoying: hair, bedsheets, even clothes have stains of white on them.

Who cares, really? Not Minju, who still laps up what leaks out of your aching, overstimulated cock. Not Sullyoon, who is out of breath and uses your thigh as a pillow. Certainly not you who literally passed out for a second and only returns because Minju sucks too strongly.

“Ouch, fuck, Min-Minju it hurts—”

“You tasht sho good, I want more.”

“Then, ahhh, get it from Sullyoon’s face, I-I don’t have anything anymore.”

Minju listens and obidies, unable to remember her shy nature when she sucks on Sullyoon’s skin to get all of your spunk off of her. Sullyoon is unfazed, mewling a bit before finding your gaze. She smirks and suddenly, the tip of her index finger touches your balls.

“You're lying,” she whispers. “You have at least one more in you.”

“I-I don’t think so.” Shake your head to emphasize your words, but Sullyoon emphasizes her belief more thoroughly by pumping from your base up. Slow strokes to keep the pressure in it, she makes sure to keep her mouth a literal breath away, a hot breath that takes your breath away. Your eyelids shutter.

“Are you sure he can keep going?” Minju cutely asks, the final remnants of cum she collected from Sullyoon’s forehead on her finger which she promptly puts in her mouth and cleans thoroughly. “I could really go for another.”

“Don’t you want him to take your virginity?” Sullyoon’s question somehow has the blush return to Minju’s ears, she turns around abashed. It’s unbelievable: a second ago, she was the biggest cumslut, now she is afraid of what feels like a logical next step if it weren’t for…

“We can’t, Sully,” you say and reach for both their heads and pat them. “Not going to do it if we don’t have condoms, and maybe we should take some time? This is all a bit—”

“Crazy?” Sullyoon climbs off the bed and searches through her backpack, to the confusion of both you and Minju. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so you enjoy seeing her ass in the squatting position. “Is it crazy that I have these?”

She throws you a pack of condoms. You blink.

“Is it crazy that I want you to take my virginity tonight?” Sullyoon sneaks back like a predator, adorable looking, dangerously feeling up your thigh to your once again hard length. You don’t let her have her way, grab her wrists and look at Minju.

“You are crazy. Look in whose bed we are! Minju, what do—”

“I-I’m fine with it!” Minju cups her cheeks and her gaze can’t fix on either your or Sullyoon’s face. “I can give you privacy, if you want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sullyoon laughs. “You should join us. I’d let you go first, if you want.” She licks her lips and even with her arms being held down by you, she gets her flat tummy to rub on your manhood, close to her heat which you can no longer resist.

“I’ll get some water, you… do you.” Minju’s words are hastily spoken, her sentence finished when she is already out of the door. This settles it for you. You’re going to fuck Sullyoon; her first time is yours and the way she rips open the wrapping of the first condom leaves no doubt in your mind:

This girl loves you and wants you now.

“How do you want it?” you ask and roll the thin, barely-there rubber down your cock.

“I want you to push in me, push my body into the bed, slowly at first. Be careful until I tell you to go faster. Fuck me, hug me, do it so good and hard that I forget that there was ever a time where you didn’t love me.”

“Sounds—

Let go of her wrists and Sullyoon lets her amazing body fall into the cushions. Her lewd expression shifts; nervousness, only a little, seriousness, a little more—thrill, endless amounts of thrill. The same counts for you.

“—good. Spread your legs for me, Sullyoon. Breathe and relax.”

Those wonderful legs not only spread for you, they actually wrap around you, their smoothness suddenly suffocating and now it’s you who needs to breathe. Your cock slips into her so easily, your tip parts her, enters and if it weren’t for her wince you would’ve gone hilt deep right away. Sullyoon’s eagerness momentarily comes to a halt as she realizes that you are a bit different from her toys.

“Wow,” she mumbles mindlessly. “You’re so wide and hard and warm—nothing like a… a…”

“Like a dildo?” you tease her and gradually drag your tip along her walls and then out of the blissful heat. Her legs make sure to push you back in and now she is even tighter. Sullyoon wants you to stay, you can’t leave without your permission. “Tell me when it hurts.”

“Actually—”

Her digits find your nape and pull you down to where her lips pucker.

“—I want you to hammer your cock into me now. Mold my pussy in its shape. Hold back only if I say stop.”

“Got it.” Kiss her lips. “I love you, Sully.”

Sometimes, you need to let go and let the reckless abandon of lust take over your body. Your hips become a tool for pleasure, as they gyrate, then move back and forth to bury your length deeper in Sullyoon’s cunt. Then you copy and paste their movements and repeatedly do them with your tongue as well to the point your new girlfriend desperately clings to you. It’s not only the sweat that sticks to you; her entire being keeps you glued down.

You pump, pump, pump into Sullyoon until you notice her eyes rolling back into her head whenever you hit that spot. The sweet spot that will eventually make her cum. Good thing that you already blew a load and that all your sensitivity has subsided—it gives you the power that makes you feel like a superhero, a superhuman. You will not stop at anything, you want to make her cum with just your dick and so you have to fuck harder.

“Oh God, you’re so big, so fucking big and perfect,” Sullyoon moans. As a thank you, you place a hickey somewhere on her neck. In hindsight, a bad idea. All your classmates will see it, unless she wears turtlenecks from now on. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

“Your pussy, Sully, it’s, it’s so tight. You’re choking me.”

“Spread me open more then, fuck, fuck, I want you to make me full.”

Hidden from the world, you place a hand on Sullyoon’s abdomen. Not to touch that tummy that alone can make boys fall instantly, though it feels nice to rub your fingers across it—no, your goal is further down, right above where your cock pounds into that wet cunt. Talk about wet, Sullyoon’s juices have spread everywhere, Minju will smell her friend in this room for days to come.

And talk about Minju: she has just returned, a huge bottle of water in her hand and eyes wide open. There is no shock at the sight of Sullyoon moaning and bending under the never ending attack of your hands, tongue and of course cock. Minju is more fascinated than anything else, you know she could watch for hours if only you didn’t notice her.

“Oh, hey,” you gasp in between groans, but your greeting is cut short by Sullyoon’s deafening scream.

“Minju, Minju, oh fuck, you have to try this. He is so good~

“Yes! My clit, right there! Oh my God, I’m going to cum, you make me c-cum!”

Sullyoon pulsates throughout her pussy, her arms, her fingers. Those pointy nails of hers dig painful bruises in your back while your blurry gaze tries to make out her face in haze, but all you see is the shape of her mouth being agape. She’s suddenly so quiet, except for her pussy, which tries to start your own orgasm. You won’t give it to her, not when Minju stands there, her stocking-clad thighs rubbing together, visibly stained with her nectar.

“You guys…” she whispers and watches closely as you pull out of Sullyoon and wipe away some beads of sweat that have formed on your temple. You’re not a construction worker, but your work was hard and it paid off: Sullyoon could not be closer to heaven above the clouds, no skyscraper or airplane can take her there.

“Can I have some of that?” you weakly ask and point at the water bottle. You’re quick to squeeze out a huge portion when Minju hands you the plastic container. From the corner of your eye you see Sullyoon, back from her crazy trip and you offer her some of the water. She rejects and suddenly, full of energy, jumps up and behind Minju.

“Minju, you have to try it.” Minju shrieks when Sullyoon places her hands on the hourglass body. “He feels amazing, I know you will love it.” All her fingers carelessly drift down to where Minju’s full thighs spill out of hr black thigh-highs.

“B-but didn’t he, like, fi-finish in you? He must be exhausted.” Minju’s excuse is met with a scoff from Sullyoon.

“Look at that thing.” Sullyoon points in between your legs. That’s right, you’re still solid and throbbing, aching to go for more. “He is a stud, he can go forever. He will make you cum on your first time, Minju~”

“I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to listen to her,” you tell Minju and take another sip from the bottle. “We can do something else if you don’t feel ready yet.”

Your words might be honest, but Minju does not get a fair chance to consider this other option. In front of her sits her crush, a guy with a big, super tasty cock. Behind her is a friend, mind controlled by lust, eager to share this big, super tasty cock. The sight of you teases her, Sullyoon’s hands on her hips, butt, crotch tease her. Can she really go for it now? Make this crazy night become nothing but madness, a story worth telling but no one will ever hear it?

“I want… you inside of me.”

“Perf—”

“I want you to cum inside of me!”

You gulp, thoughts tripping over each other. Even Sullyoon is perplexed and frozen. “R-really?” you both ask the still-virgin girl.

“No, like, in-in a condom of course! I just want to know… that my pussy felt good for you, that I can make you cum. I don’t want to get pregnant yet of course—oh God, did you think that?”

“Well…”

“Doesn’t matter!” Sullyoon suddenly laughs this chaotic misunderstanding off and pushes Minju on your lap. “Here, Minju, put a new condom on his cock. We don’t do creampies, but I totally get what you want.”

“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” Minju apologizes awkwardly, but you quickly forget about it when she expertly puts the rubber on your tip and has your entire phallus covered in no time. Her dainty fingers feel fantastic on your base, which she holds steady, awaiting you to do something with it. You can’t make up your mind however: should you pick her up and throw her into the sheets to fuck her like Sullyoon? Maybe spin her around and fuck her doggy, ass up, that beautiful face buried in pillows as you burry yourself inside her for the first time?

Sullyoon helps you come up with a third solution. She grabs your wrists and firmly puts them on Minju’s tiny waist and instinctively, you lift her up and over your cock. Minju looks down at your manhood and mewls, ready yet not ready to take it. Her starlit eyes, a few centimeters away, look down into yours and you swear you don’t want to hurt. You have to do everything to make this the best thing for her.

Give Minju a firm kiss on her trembling lips as both you and Sullyoon gently place her entrance on your spear. At first, she is scared, her body tensing up, but with your warmth radiating on her warm folds, she suddenly seems eager. More and more inches disappear into her and you leave her lips to hear her ultimate moan when her virginity disappears.

“Ouh, so big, so much, ahhh!”

“Does it hurt?” you ask her.

“A-a bit, but it’s fine—Sullyoon, what are you doing!? Don’t look at it!”

Sullyoon kneels between your legs. When she breathes out through her nose, your balls feel her hot and horny breath. She completely ignores Minju’s words and stares at how you leave and re-enter Minju’s pussy. “Minju, this… this is the best sight! Trust me, it feels good when he goes faster. Your pussy will feel so good.”

“This is embarrassing,” Minju mewls again, her hips firmly pushed down on your lap, almost the entirety of your cock inside her. You might not feel powerless in this position, not at all in fact, but you want this absolute beauty of a woman to do how she likes it. If she just wants to sit on you and slowly move her lower body in circles, that’s fine, if she wants to ride you with heavy thrusts, that would be to die for—

But Minju unexpectedly picks a third option. Seriously, these girls are full of surprises. She puts her hands on your shoulders while yours instinctively hover down to her hips and then she tightens around your cock again before moving up and down, up and down, up and down with perfect body control, at the same pace.

Minju rides you, fucks you, like she has done it a thousand times. You can hardly believe she never had a toy inside her. Every breath becomes more chaotic, her features disheveled, her tongue numb. It hangs out of her mouth, a perfectly ripe weak spot for you to attack. You suck on it, bully it in your mouth and Minju grabs your throat, accidentally choking you. No, no, she has to keep doing that. She has to suffocate you, with her pussy, with her fingers, with her stunning visuals as she fucks herself silly.

“Sullyoon, fuck,” you both simultaneously curse when the forgotten girl starts to lick all the way from your perineum over to your cock and Minju’s folds to Minju’s butthole, then back down, as if it were the longest, tastiest lollipop. She is not irritated by all the sweat, the lewd juices and Minju’s ass bouncing on your dick—Sullyoon laps it all up and even giggles when she hears both of you struggle with the added pleasure.

Minju gradually loses speed, which is of course not bad, after all, her cunt still tries to suck your Sullyoon-kissed balls dry, but you notice how completely out of breath and overstimulated she seems. With unfocused puppy eyes she tries to apologize for her lack of stamina, but instead of lamenting, you find a quick solution—a solution that sends Minju straight into her first ever crazy orgasm.

Hock your arms underneath her legs, securely hold her and stand up. Sullyoon gasps in surprise, her tongue still in Minju’s ass, which suddenly shakes when you start to fuck. Minju screams in bliss, covers your crotch in girl cum as you lose your grip on reality but never your grip on her hips. Minju can barely hold onto your nape as you pound her and send orgasm after orgasm into her.

“Ahhh, oh my God, it’s, it’s coming again!”

She deserves so many more so you steady your feet and thrust upwards harder, faster, gape her cunt wide open, all for Sullyoon to see. She remembers that you speared her open in a similar way, your cock hard and reckless. She starts to touch herself while sucking on whatever part of your base isn’t currently inside Minju. In the meantime, Minju’s stockings burn themselves in your memory. She always has to wear them, they look so hot, seductive, like they were made to cover her legs.

“So big, too much, too much, I—”

Minju explodes again. This time her ability to speak is replaced by mindless moans, which sound a bit silly through her constantly cracking voice. You look down and admire the ripple of her thighs, the way her small tits bounce up and down. Her hot cunt feels ready for a load, a load it will not directly receive unfortunately.

Unfortunately? No, it’s good! You can’t risk getting Minju pregnant, that would be insane.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan.

“Let me help you~” Sullyoon’s lewd voice and even lewder lips push you over the edge as she puts your balls in her mouth and sucks on them loudly. The added pressure makes you unload into the condom, testing its durability. Luckily it passes the test and Minju still gets to have that feeling of hotness inside her.

She smiles weakly, but cannot really react. Her body goes limp in your arms as you slip out of her wide open hole. You carefully drop her onto the bed, a bed that you definitely need too now. Soft sheets to finally rest in after this night of projects and—other projects so to say.

“Fuck that was insane. What’s going to happen now?” you ask no one in particular. Minju is already gone, deep in a dream.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon suddenly says and lays next to you in bed, her fingers pulling away the condom. When she sees the ridiculous amount of cum still covering your dick, she is quick to clean it up with her tongue. It seems that she is just as addicted to your taste as Minju.

“Fuck, Sully—”

“We have to do this every week.”

“Wh-what?”

“Aren’t we your girlfriends now? Don’t you want this—

“To happen again~?”

Yes, they are your girlfriends now—and yes: you have fallen for them.

Who could blame you?

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader #male reader smut #minju smut #sullyoon smut #nmixx smut #happy minju day #kim minju smut

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scarlethexelove · 27 days

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Hi! Can I request a mommy!Natasha x little!reader fic. Like where little reader has become obsessed with babies and her baby doll, and begs her mommy for a real one, telling Nat that she wants a baby in her belly, and that mommy can be the baby daddy! Just some cute, possibly smutty, broody vibes. Nat thinks it’s cute as hell, picturing her girl with a baby bump, and would love to have a baby with her baby. Thank you!

Oh Baby

Pairing: Mommy!Natasha Romanoff x Little!Reader

Word Count: 825

Warnings: Fluffy, Allusions to sex, Allusions to Nat having a penis, I don't think there is really much more.

A/n: I didn't feel fully comfortable writing it smutty so I just kind of alluded to it. Just made it cute and fluffy. Sorry it is a little short but I hope it is good. I feel a bit iffy about my writing in this one.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Natasha watches as you cradle your doll in your arms a bottle held in your other hand bringing it to your doll's lips. She smiles watching how you care for your doll. You have been much more interested in your doll recently. Making sure you feed it, change its diaper, and have it nap with you. She had convinced Tony to make a doll similar to a Baby Alive doll for you. When she had given it to you she watched you being overjoyed. Immediately taking care of it and very well to Nat’s surprise.

You’re soon bounding over to her with a smile on your face. Your doll securely in your arms. You hold it out for Nat which she takes. “Mommy not like that.” You lightly scold her when she holds the doll wrong. You crawl up on the couch where she is sitting and fix the way she is holding the doll in her arms. “I’m sorry bug. Thank you for showing Mommy how to hold your baby.” Nat says as you smile up at her. You put on a tv show for you, Nat, and the doll could watch, leaning your head on her shoulder as you watch.

Every once in a while you look down at the doll in Nat’s arm and then back up to her. A smile on your face as you mind forms an idea. “Mommy?” Your voice floats through the peaceful air. Nat looks down to you and smiles. “Yes baby?” You sit up off of her shoulder struggling to find the words that you want. Even though you have the idea it is hard for you to form the thought into words. Nat waits patiently for you to speak.

“Mommy want a baby.” You mumble. Natasha smiles at you. She has an idea of what you are saying but she wants to make sure. “Baby you have a baby.” She places the doll into your arms but you shake your head. “Want Mommy’s baby.” You set the doll down next to you carefully. You point to your stomach. “Want baby in tummy. Mommy can be Daddy.”

Nat is a bit shocked by your words. She thought that is what you wanted but didn’t expect you to actually ask for it. She mulls over your words, a soft smile forming on her lips. “Are you sure bug? Babies are a lot of work.” She pokes your stomach as you giggle and squirm a little. You nod your head. “Yes Mommy. Want Mommy’s baby. Bug and Mommy take care.”

Nat can’t help the widening smile. Your excitement rubbed off on her. Her mind wanders to the thoughts of you with a little baby bump. Starting a family with her little girl. How cute you would be with her baby inside of you. She wants nothing more to make you happy and give you everything you desire. She can give you what you want and have the family she has always wanted.

“Pwease Mommy. Want baby.” Your words break Nat from her thoughts. You're bouncing on your legs next to her excitement evident. Her hand comes up cupping your cheek which you nuzzle into.”If my baby wants a baby Mommy will give it to her.” She then boops your nose, your face scrunching up. You squeak in excitement and throw your arms around her neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Your body is now in her lap bouncing. Her hands now on your hips as you bounce in excitement. You're bouncing now eliciting a groan from the woman under you.

Nat kiss your lips and hold your hips still on top of hers. You still try to wiggle your hips just too excited to stop moving. “Mommy excited.” You say as your hips lightly bounce still. Feeling herself against you. “Yes mommy is excited.” She smiles at you, finally giving up on trying to keep you still. All she can do now is think about starting right now giving you exactly what you want.

“Bug want to start now?” Nat asks you. You nod quickly. “Yes Mommy. Want now.” Your bouncing becomes more erratic which causes Nat to moan. She stands up which causes you to wrap your legs around her waist and she wraps her arms around you tightly. “Anything for you bug.” She uses one of her arms to boop your nose again. Loving how you always scrunch up your face.

#new fic #natasha romanoff fanfic #mommy natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha fanfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x female

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d0youc0py · 1 year

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I am ✨obsessed✨ with your page rn and would absolutely devour literally anything you give us.

I’d love to see your take on a kidnap/break in fic though!

Something like they’re coming home from deployment and their girlfriend/wife calls them (or laswell) freaking out about a weird car outside, or someone following them home.

Just damsel in distress x protective husband vibes all the way 💕

“If we’re gonna go after them we’ve got to do it tonight. They’re expecting us to wait till they get further south.”

“What about all the civilians in the city?”

“No explosives. Everyone keep your silencers on. They won’t know till mornin’.”

“Ghost has a point. If we wait till next week our chances of hittin’ ‘em are slim. They aren’t expecting it now.”

“Yeah, they aren’t expecting it because it’s too damn risky. We do it tonight they have home advantage. We wait- all of us are on an even playing field.”

“They outnumber us 10-1. We’ll never be even.”

A knock at the door halted the conversation. A errand boy stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt but this came for Lieutenant Ghost. Labeled urgent.” He held out a yellow package for Ghost.

“Thanks.” Price nodded his head, politely dismissing him.

“Johnny I’ve dealt with groups like this before.” Ghost spoke tearing open the flap of the package. “We need to get ‘em while their sitting pretty.” He blindly reached his hand into the package, his brow furrowing when he touched something soft. He pulled out a clump of hair.

His right leg gave out and he grabbed the table to steady himself.

“Ghost?” Price questioned. He gripped Ghost arms to steady him- and also urge him to give him an answer.

“No.” Ghost mumbled. He ripped open the rest of the package frantically searching for any sign that this was a prank. It couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be. “No.” He growled out. He pushed his way out the door his whole body shaking from anger and distress. The rest of the 141 followed quickly behind him. “Laswell.” She jumped as the door slammed open. “What the fuck is this?” The sight of him was enough to send a spike of fear through her heart. He threw the package with your hair on the table in front of her.

“Oh no.” Her eyes were wide and she wracked her brain for any answer she could give him.

“You said it would be alright.” He was seething at the point. Tears welled up in his eyes and he couldn’t be bothered to hide them. The air felt like it was being choked out of the room. Everyone’s skin was crawling. “You said they couldn’t trace her.”

Laswell looked over at Price for some relief, but he had not the slightest clue as to what was going on- or how to fix it. Just that Ghost was more worked up than he’d ever seen. Even Soap was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“What going on?” Price asked. Ghost growled not answering the question, his eyes still trained on Laswell.

“I didn’t think they could.” She said calmly. “I didn’t enter it into the computer- it’s in your file, but not electronically.”

“Someone clarify what’s going on.” Price snapped.

“Ghost, let’s not jump to conclusions. Are we even sure this is Y/N’s hair?” Laswell tried to soothe.

“You think I don’t know my wife’s hair?” Ghost gritted. Wide eyes and jaws hung open around the room.

“Wife?” Soap whispered.

“Yes, my wife.” Ghost affirmed. “After I had that accident a few months ago I thought it would be a good idea to finally make her my emergency contact. So if I died she wouldn’t be locked up in the house waitin’ for me.” He explained. “You told me it was safe.”

“It is. They had to have gotten her info somewhere else.” Laswell insisted. “I’ll start tracking her down. You need to calm down.”

“Fuck off.” Ghost sneered. Price gave him a warning shoulder shove.

“We’ll go see if we can find anything on our end.” Price sighed.

•••••••••••

It only took an hour to find you. Gaz was able to PinPoint your location- conveniently the sight they were debating on hitting tonight. They could barely keep up as Ghost began to load up. The odds weren’t great for them. They knew they were coming, they were outnumbered and they had a hostage- who they knew at least one of the team members would die for in a heartbeat.

“Ghost you need to keep your cool. Stick to the plan. You can’t help her if you’re dead.” Price was trying to talk him through it. Ghost had completely shut down. He’s had nightmares just like this before. You being tortured- just the way he had been. He swallowed back bile just thinking about it. He paced back and forth on the plane, growling and grumbling like a caged bear.

They were ready for the 141. All waiting patiently in their places ready to take down the infamous task force. Smirks spread across their faces and they could practically taste the celebratory dinner that awaited them. What they weren’t ready for was the absolute hell that was about to be unleashed on them.

They all had just stepped off the plane before Ghost was blowing through people like they were paper. Soap would bet his life on the fact that he saw Ghost go through a wall at one point. He wasn’t sticking to the plan. He was moving at inhuman speed. It was impossible to keep up with him.

“Found her. Back building, fourth floor second door on the left.” Soap’s voice rang through the comms.

“Hey, I’m a friend of Ghost’s.” Johnny spoke softly. You seemed to be relatively unharmed. When Johnny pried open the door he caught a glimpse of you diving under a small cot- your hair peaking out from under it.

“I’ve told you I don’t know who that is.” You murmured. He could hear the fear in your voice. Johnny sat down a few feet away from the bed.

“Oh right.” He whispered. “A friend of Simon’s.” Soap corrected. Your head peaked out from the bed. You had a bruise on your cheek- a slap mark?

“Simon?” You repeated slowly. Soap nodded his head. “Johnny?” You asked. Soap smiled.

“So he does talk about me.” His humor was wasted on you, but it did calm you a bit. Suddenly Ghost practically tumbled through the door. You shrieked not realizing who it was and dove back under the bed.

“Sweetheart.” Ghost quickly ripped off his mask, (not wanting to scare you more) laying on his stomach to get a look at you. You shot out from under the bed wrapping every limb you could around him. His hand gripped the back of your head pressing your forehead against his lips. “I’m sorry.” He pressed a few quick kisses against your head, before pulling away, worried eyes scanning all over you.

“I’m fine.” You assured. You had been lucky- well as lucky as one could be in this situation. Your worst wound was a slap to the cheek and a shitty haircut. The worst part was the fear. Fear of what they would do to you. Now that Simon was here you were at ease. His fingers skimmed over your cheek. “Got that because I bit a chunk out of someone’s hand.” You smirked.

“Good Girl.” He growled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got to get out of here, yeah? I’m goin’ put my mask back on and you’re going to stay between me and Johnny, understand?” You nodded your head, while Johnny was still reeling from all the affection Ghost had displayed.

Safe to say the mission was a success.

*ring*

“Sweetheart?”

You thank the stars above that John always picked up on the first ring.

“Not to worry you”-

“You need me to come get you?”

“No, can you meet me somewhere? There’s a red car that’s been following me and I don’t want to lead it to our house.” You explained, checking in your rearview mirror. Sure enough, a bright, red sports car was bearing down on you.

“Go to the coffee shop. Don’t park until you see my car in the parking lot. Don’t hang up either.”

“Affirm.” You snickered. John was in absolutely no mood to joke with you. You could hear the sound of his car starting.

“Hope I don’t have to get in a fight tonight. Only wearing my boxers and a shirt.” He wasn’t trying to be funny, but it still made you laugh.

“Could’ve thrown a pair of pants on.” You commented.

“If the difference between you being worm food and you being alright was me wrestling with a pair of jeans I’d never forgive myself.” He grumbled.

“I’ll be fine John. Captain’s coming to save me.” Normally he would melt at that but he was too focused dodging in and out of cars. You could hear a horn from over the phone. “Please be safe.” You sighed. “I’m here.” He said suddenly. Your eyes glanced to your phone. You had only been on the phone for seven minutes and it took at least fifteen to get to the coffee shop from your house.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as if he could read your mind.

“It’s still following me John.” You whispered. Your fingers dug nervously into the steering wheel.

“Don’t get scared on me now, Sweetheart. How far away are you?”

“Ten minutes?” You weren’t entirely sure. “I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood.”

“No.” He interjected. “Stay on main roads with traffic. Doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to get here, just make sure you stay with people.” You nodded your head. “You hear me?”

“Yes sorry. I nodded my head but you couldn’t see that.”

“I’m standing outside the car. Pull up next to me, don’t get out, I’ll get your door for you.” He had his Captains voice on. You wondered if this was how team briefings went.

“You always get my door for me.” You smiled.

“Damn right I do.” He scoffed. “But it’s important this time. I don’t just want to leave your car in the lot because who knows what type of things they’ll put on it.”

“Like a tracker?”

He hummed in agreement.

“You’re scaring me John.” You gulped.

“Don’t need to be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that. Just want you to be aware of what’s gonna happen when you park. Just stay in your car, yes?” His voice was calm. Like he had done this a million times before. You nodded your head again. “Did you nod your head again?” You swore you could hear a chuckle.

“Yes, sorry. I understand.” Time seems to slow as you finally pulled into the cafe parking lot. It hadn’t closed yet people still wandering in and out even as the sun has set. You were surprised no one noticed the large man in a pair of light blue boxers and white t-shirt. A t-shirt so thin you could see his chest hair. You did as he told and pulled up right next to him. The red car pulled in right next to you. Your eyes quickly fled to your left to look at John. He had a look on his face you weren’t familiar with.

The sound of the red car door opening caught your attention. A medium sized man stepped out. He just looked greasy. He shut his door and began walking over to your side of the car, seemingly not noticing John.

John met him in the middle, using one hand to grab him by his shirt and slam him against the hood of his own car. You covered your mouth, your eyes going wide. John’s face hovered over his. You couldn’t hear anything that was said, but when John finally let him go the man scrambled to get back into his severely dented car. John stood at the front of the car as he started it up and ripped out of the parking lot.

John tapped at your window signaling for you to unlock your door.

“You alright?” He checked, crouching down to your level. You eyes were still wide and you slowly nodded.

“What did you say?” You mumbled. John took your shaky hands with his, pressing a kiss against your palms.

“That’s a secret.” He smirked. “Didn’t scare you too bad did I?” He asked softly. His brows furrowed and he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Honestly?”

His face paled. He hadn’t thought about scaring you. He didn’t think he acted too rash. In fact he was holding back.

“Honestly.” He affirmed.

“That was really hot.” You admitted, a hot blush across your face. His face went blank for a moment before a wide smirk crossed his face.

“Then we better get home.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Safe to drive?”

“Yes!” You said a little too enthusiastic.

You’re so sweet! I absolutely loved this request and probably went a little overboard. I was only able to fit Ghost and Price in this but would gladly do this with the rest of the 141 and other cod characters! Hope you liked it and thank you for making my day!

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cameronspecial · 7 months

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hi hi hi i saw ur requests were open, no pressure ofc just wondering if u could do smth like rafe (established bf) giving reader the silent treatment for like weeks and shes so confused because she doesnt know what the hell she did to piss him off so she decides to confront him about it and just angst -> fluff yk??

also i literally love you and your fics so much u dont understandddd <3333

Miscommunicated Silence

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex in The Beginning.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

A/N: You are literally the sweetest. You made my day and I love you too, anonymous. I know Rafe isn't pissed at her, but I can't imagine Rafe being mad at Y/N for any reason because he gives me such she can do no wrong vibes like how he is with Ward.

Masterlist

Rafe’s head throws back in pleasure as his dick spews his hot seeds into the condom. His arms grip Y/N to him as they both come down from their high. She carefully lifts herself from him and goes to get some clean clothes from his drawers. “Where are you going?” Rafe questions, expecting her to stay the night. She comes over to give him a peck on the lips, “I want to stay, Rafey. But I have an early meeting tomorrow morning and my house is closer to work than yours. Plus, we both know that if I stay here, I’m going to run late because of that tongue of yours. Bye, I love you.” “I love you too. Drive safe, Baby,” he calls out, watching her leave with a soft look.

———

Y/N has been trying to text Rafe all week but he hasn’t been answering her at all. Every time she sees him in public, he somehow doesn’t see or hear her and then disappears when she gets close enough to him. She tries meeting him at Tannyhill, yet he is never there according to his various family members. She would be more worried if she didn’t know that he is ignoring her. His text receipts, only on for her, shows that he is reading them. In all their years of dating, Rafe has never gone more than twenty-four hours without talking to her. So she isn’t sure what she could’ve done for him to give her the silent treatment for a week. It couldn’t be because she had to leave after sex last week because it wasn’t the first time one of them decided to sleep at home after sex because it was easier for them the next morning.

Her anger towards the way he is icing her out finally over takes her and so she’s had enough. “Y/N, Rafe isn’t home,” Wheezie tries to argue, but Y/N knows it is not true. His truck and his bike are in the driveway and she knows Kelce and Topper are playing golf without him, so he couldn’t have been driven somewhere by them. Y/N gently nudges her way inside, “I know that isn’t true Wheez, I need to talk to him.” Wheezie doesn’t stop her as she runs up the stairs toward his room. She throws his door open with a slam to find him shirtless on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His annoyance flashes through him as he looks up to yell at the person. He freezes at the sight of his angry girlfriend. “I don’t know what I did, but we are never going to fix anything if you keep ignoring me,” she yells, placing her hands on her hips. She waits for a response and her anger grows to fury when he doesn’t answer. She violently shakes her head, “Are you really going to continue this childish game?”

She stares at him and he can only return the stare with a hint of pleading she isn’t sure what to make out of it. “You know what? If this is how you deal with your problems, then maybe we shouldn’t be together,” she spins on her heels, storming toward the door. With her back to him, she doesn’t see the tears and panic cross his face. He rushes forward, wrapping his hand around her wrist. It is gentle enough that she can break from his hold, but as she turns to yell at him, she can see the pain in his eyes. This causes her to worry. If he is willing to show emotion to her at this moment and still not say something, then something must be wrong. His mouth opens, “P-Please don’t go.” The words that come out are so low and raspy that she wants to get him to a doctor immediately to check on him. “What’s wrong with your voice?” she worries, placing her hands on his cheeks. He holds his finger up and goes to get a notepad and pen from his desk.

It takes him a second to write on the notepad before he hands the pad to her. I lost my voice this week. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or at least answer my texts. You don’t need to talk to do that,” she questions, giving him the pad back so he can respond. I was embarrassed about why I lost my voice. And texting always leads to phone calls with you. You know just talking to you isn’t enough, I love hearing your voice. “How did you lose your voice?” He gives her a sheepish look and then writes the answer down. I think I lost it when we had sex last week. I must have been too loud. She giggles at his words, looking up to see him looking away. “Aww, Rafey. Don’t be embarrassed. I think that’s hot. I love it when you are loud for me. It lets me know that I am making you feel good,” she explains, wrapping her arms around his neck. He brings his head to her neck and gives it a kiss. She plays with his hair to help stop his tears from spilling. He pulls away from her and writes something down. I’m sorry I ignored you, but please don’t break up with me. Y/N gives him a soft look and then a kiss on the lips. “It’s okay, Rafey. I forgive you.”

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theheartbreakprincesss · 2 months

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red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

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firewalkzwit · 11 months

Text

arabella // hobie brown x reader (one-shot)

oneshot of hobie trying to pursue a reader who's effortlessly cool and has strong arabella vibes cuz i love that vibe. inspired some on slc punk and sex pistols lore, cool fic for the music enthusiasts

New girl's hip New girl's cool New girl's interesting New girl's hot.

"She came straight out of 70's New L.A. She's no rockstar's girlfriend, she's a rockstar herself! Crazy hair, mysterious bassist, she's from outer space."

AO3

And when she needs to shelter from reality she takes a dip in my daydreams...

"Ay, who's the new girl?" Was the first thing Hobie asked as he nudged Pav's shoulder, not breaking his intense stare at the new recruit.

"New girl? Oh that's YN." Pav shifted his narrowed eyes into Hobie's, a teasing grin drawing on his face.

"Yea' but what's her full name...?"

"Go ask her yourself man, everyone calls her YN." Hobie never got her name, she refused to be called anything but those particular initials.

To say she was pretty was an understatement. She was stunning, show-stopping, alluring.

At least to Hobie, all adjectives were perfectly applicable.

She had this quirk, this confidence and these slight Chrissie Hynde vibes, boldness when she spoke that made her so attractive, and to top it she was a great musician.

Back in her dimension it was the seventies, and she was the leader of a girl band where she played the bass, doing small gigs in downtown New L.A.

She wore flamboyant black cowboy boots and scandalous skirts, with chunky sunglasses that looked like the eyes of a bug. She had crazy hair and wore Vivienne Westwood's accessories on her pierced ears and fingers before it was even cool in the US. Her dark tights were always ripped but she didn't care, she called it a fashion statement. So did she call her Spidey suit, which had a unique design that caught anyone's attention.

Love was for posers Hobie thought, but what's more punk than going against your own structures?

"Gwendy I gotta' talk to this girl more." Hobie's frustration was something Gwen wasn't used to seeing. His nature was often relaxed, only energic when invited to disrupt the order, but hardly ever frustrated.

"Well, you don't have to." Gwen shrugged as she tried to mask the frown that was forming in her face, but her wrinkled nose gave away her displease of jealousy.

"I know, but I want to." His attention was fixed on YN, how she moved and talked. "I wanna hear her play. You're a girl right? When you girls think a lad's fit, how much of that comes from his coolness?" He asked as he leaned on Gwen's side, resting his body weight on her. She scoffed in disbelief at the absurdity of his question, something only a man could ask.

"Since when do you want to conform to the arbitrary standards of women?"

"I don't, I just wanna' know how many I can get away with breaking and she can still like me yea'?" Hobie chuckled before getting up again. "Don't get too jealous on me alright?" He joked, patting his friend's shoulder as he jumped down from where they were sitting, approaching her once again.

"He's never gonna give up is he?" Miles sat once again close beside Gwen, who sighed at the sight of Hobie attempting to come off as nonchalant with a girl who only seemed to curve his insinuations over and over.

"That's such a man thing to do, no offense." Gwen spat as her hand slid down her face, pointing at what she could only describe as a humilliation show.

"Yeah... right."

It's not that she didn't notice, she just dodged him. She thought there was more important things to do than let herself be conquered by some co-worker. But she was lying if she said he wasn't winning her over.

He also was so her type.

The funky hair, the spikes on his leather vest, the stickers and carvings on his guitar, his Iggy Pop vibes and his weird slang. But he thought he was so it, he was a nice guy but he needed some humbling. Their first conversation was about Bowie, and he played her a bit of Moonage Daydream as she recalled when she saw him live, getting all starry eyed whenever she'd narrate the part where she gave him a ride in her car.

"You gave Bowie a ride?"

"Spider's Tour, yeah..." She giggled, flipping her hair in a way that had him starstruck. "In my mom's car."

"In your mum's car? Oh get out." She went on to talk about how that changed her view on music, going on about her gigs in New L.A and how she moved there to make it big.

Hobie was sure he was listening, but as much as he tried to contain himself, keeping in comments was not in his book.

"You always dress this mad? Like, all the time?" He bursted out with a smile, cutting her off. They were sitting on a counter table, with his guitar on his lap. He leaned closer to pick on the fabric of her coat.

"Always. Do you always dress so pretentious?" She retorted with a smug grin, pushing her hair out of her face. His eyes shot up to look at her, puzzled. "I mean, aren't you like... rebelling against society?" Hobie let out a slight laugh, his head tilting in interest as he looked into her eyes.

"Well, yea'. Why?"

"Don't you think it would be more of an act of rebellion if you didn't spend so much time buying stickers and pins and going out to get punky clothes? Stop me if I'm being offensive, I think the style's hip, but it just seems counterproductive to your cause."

"Na' its cool, keep going." He struggled to discern if he was actually listening, or simply invested in watching her mouth smart words as her long painted nails tapped on the counter.

"You want to be an individual, but it's like you wear a uniform. It's just punk fashion, not rebellion." Hobie's eyes fixated on her's, leaving a strong silence as she ended her phrase.

"I'm not judging you, just kind of a general critique to what they call punk movement."

Hobie brushed her off with his usual humorous comments to maintain his pride, but he was dazzled. Even if she had criticized his way of thinking and how he dressed, she was so outspoken, without caring what he had to say or thought about her opinion, and he was crazy for his first impression of her, as much as he hated to admit it as he'd call 'Love is for posers'. Hobie was sure he was just trying to win her over, to prove a point he'd say, but deep down he loved the way she smiled and shook her head whimsically everytime he'd say something or take time off his schedule to nag her.

It was a few times that she gave Hobie the chance to play with her, to which she soon learnt that he did not know how to read tabs. Of course the punk kid is self-taught. Trying to lead, they would play messy numbers and solos. It was ocasionally just her and Gwen, who had let YN grown onto her sharing her love for girl bands, doing some jamming with their instruments as Hobie payed vague attention. But he would pound on any chance to be alone with her and try to take her out.

She didn't know what was in her that day, but she let him take her out.

He toured her around his universe, before taking her to what he called "his palace".

The small canal boat was ridiculously a very Hobie place to live. If she were to guess, she'd think he lived in a tree somewhere in Birmingham. However it had it's charm, it was very humid and it wobbled when they walked, but it was unique and she loved it. Hobie showed her the collection of things he had stolen, proving himself to be a brilliant thief. He owed most of his 'talent' to his Spider-Sense and speed, but he'd never bring it up.

As she sat on the mattress where he slept in, Hobie picked up one of his records, sitting beside her to show her the signed insides of the vinyl. Her eyes paced from the inscriptions to his face, as he ocasionally caught a glimpse of her through the corner of his eye. He left the vinyl aside to go on about his encounters with the infuential musicians on the area, how he attempted to steal the microphone the Bowie of his dimension had used when he was touring in his city. Her gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips back and forth.

He was hesitant about making a move, afraid he'd mess up what had taken him so much work. But wasn't even given time to think it through before the proximity between them grew, and her hand softly caressed his bony cheek and down to his neck, inviting him to lean into a kiss. As they made out, his cold piercing was quickly warmed by her damp tongue and soft lips that sucked and kissed his. His hands caressed up and down her waist, undoing the buttons on her blouse with his slender fingers as she revealed her naked torso, no bra underneath. YN did her usual hair flip to watch him undress her, and himself, jumping on her once finished to continue what he had briefly interrupted.

"We won't sink, will we?" She asked between soft giggles as the boat quivered at his abrupt movement, Hobie nibbling down her neck and kissing her chest.

"I wank pretty crazy here every night, we won't." He teased before crawling backwards, kissing down her navel.

songs i listened to while working on this:

(ofc) arabella - arctic monkeys

moonage daydream, lady grinning soul and starman - bowie

hey, velouria - pixies

rhiannon, gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

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fruitcoops · 7 months

Note

You have some awesome friendship fics when Remus and Lily do manis and go shopping. Have you thought of one where Remus is there when Lily gets her wedding dress or she is there to get him fitted for his suit for his own wedding. Or the same with James/Sirius although I’m not sure how that would work with Reg.

Fic O'Ween Day 2: Candle Wax to continue the excellent friendship vibes from yesterday. Big fest thanks to @noots-fic-fests and character credit goes to @lumosinlove.

TW brief mention of alcohol

“Give it a spin.”

“…I don’t want to.”

“Then put it back.”

“What if it’s the one?”

Remus’ entire face scrunched with a frown in the mirror behind her. “Lily,” he began, with as much concern as if she had just told him the sky was actually emerald green. “Why would you buy a wedding dress you don’t want to spin in?”

“He’s right,” Natalie chimed in, swirling her rosé with a critical glance over Lily’s skirt. “You deserve better.”

“What if—”

“Literally your one requirement was to be able to spin, babygirl.”

Lily studied herself in the mirror again. The dress was pretty and creamy and light around her legs. The bow at the back wasn’t bad, perhaps a little oversized, but that could be fixed. It was already five o’clock, anyway. Two hours should be more than enough time to find a wedding dress.

“You don’t like it,” Remus said gently.

“No,” she sighed. “Not that much.”

“Then try a different one.”

Natalie brightened. “Yeah, what about that off-the-shoulder number? With the sweetheart neckline?”

Lily tipped her head back and forth. “My tits were falling out.”

“Exactly.”

“You do love when James makes a fool of himself,” Remus added.

The fabric slid in a smooth cascade beneath her palms. Probably damp palms. Was it alright for her to touch this fabric when she was nervous? Why was she nervous, anyway? It was her wedding. Her James. Natalie was right—she deserved the dress of her dreams. Lily knew her dreams better than anyone else and always had, through Petunia, through her Master’s, through a whole-ass baby. A dress should be the easiest thing in the world to choose.

“You liked the flowers, right?” Remus suggested, picking at the edge of his phone case. “On the…what was it, the third one?”

“The fourth.” Natalie nodded. “That’s the one with the sweetheart neckline.”

It was a nice dress. And she did like the florals. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Never mind.”

“What?”

“You’re not getting a ‘yeah, I guess’ dress,” Natalie said firmly. “Fuck that. You’re getting an ‘oh my god, I love this, I’m going to make every single guest cream their pants when they see me’ dress.”

“I—”

“What did you like about them?” Remus asked. “The other dresses.”

“I…” Lily trailed off. Her raw inner lip pinched when she nibbled at it. Jesus, her palms really did feel fucking soaked. “I don’t like this fabric. Or the bow. I liked the flowers from the other dress, but I want them smaller. The buttons on the bodice were nice.”

“Remind me what the bodice is?” she heard Remus whisper.

“The top,” Natalie whispered back before raising her voice again. “How about you take that thing off and we look together, hon? Three pairs of eyes are better than one.”

The surge of relief in her belly was a surprise, but not unwelcome. Lily examined the way it lay against her thighs for a moment longer before pursing her lips. “I don’t know, you guys have better things to—”

Immediate protests—far too loud for the pristine establishment—burst from both. “I’m not listening to that,” Remus warned. “Nuh-uh. This is a Lily day and I have the calendar invite to prove it.”

Natalie watched her in the mirror with a dangerous arch to her eyebrow. “You gave me rosé, my hot bestie, and pretty clothes to look at. Don’t take this from me. Now, tell us where to go and we will be your little wedding minions for as long as your heart desires.”

Lily loved her. Dearly. She glanced back once more and caught Remus’ eye, and his encouraging smile. “Calendar invite?”

“Midnight to midnight, Evans.”

“Florals, buttons, and something I can sweat in. Oh, and spin.” She shook her head. “Why did I pick a July wedding?”

Natalie stood and placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders, leaving them nearly eye-to-eye with the help of the pedestal beneath her. Her palms were pleasantly cool on Lily’s overheated skin. “Because you can’t fucking wait to marry James Potter, you utter legend.”

Two hours.

Fourteen more dresses.

Lily rolled a fine satin petal between her fingertips, dragged her palms up her waist, down over her belly, across the swell of her thighs. The pale green chiffon faded to blush and back in loose waves over the solid ivory beneath. She rested her weight on her other side and followed the tender shimmer where the light caught each movement. The straps were broad, yet elegant—fawn-colored buttons tracked from the valley of her chest to the top of the skirt, where small flowers had been stitched in rows that dripped through the folds like warm candle wax.

“She looks so fucking gorgeous, I’m gonna cry.”

“I know. Jesus. That’s gotta be it.”

“Did you find that one?”

“Mhmm.”

“Nice, Lupin. Hook it up.” A soft high-five interrupted their muttering. “Can you pick out my wedding dress?”

“Propose to Bliz first. Then we can talk.”

“What do you think?” Lily called over her shoulder. She didn’t bother looking away from the mirror; she looked too good for that.

“Stellar as always, Lils,” Remus answered with a firm thumbs-up.

“Creaming myself as we speak,” Natalie chimed in. “Honestly, babe, you’re beautiful beyond belief. The dress just makes it even clearer.”

She gave a little sway to watch it ripple around her ankles—Remus’ sharp whistle made her jump, though it soon turned to laughter. He drummed his hands on either side of the armchair. “Come on, come on, do the spin—oh, there she goes!”

Natalie whooped. “Throw that ass in a circle, baby! You and me are getting down at that reception.”

A blush heated Lily’s face and neck as she laughed, still spinning, but it looked—fuck, it looked so pretty when Lily caught herself in the mirror again. The dappled colors of the dress warmed her away from fire-engine red, highlighting the pinks of her skin and auburn of her hair where it fell over her shoulder. I want pictures of this, she thought. I want a photo album of pictures where I’m in this dress, and I want James Potter to cry when he sees me in it. “I look so hot right now.”

“You so do,” Remus agreed. They were both leaning forward in their chairs, hands clasped. Lily briefly imagined asking them to find her another dress, just to watch them goggle at her.

But she wasn’t sure she’d take this one off for a million dollars.

“Is it…” Natalie pressed her lips together, eyes gleaming. “Lily?”

She was nodding before the words even began to come out. “This is my wedding dress.”

“Yes!”

“This is my fucking Stanley Cup, oh my god.” Natalie held both hands to her cheeks and turned to Remus, bouncing on her toes. “Oh my god, oh my god, wedding dress—”

“Wedding, wedding, wedding, Lily don’t you dare make us celebrate without you—”

Lily laughed and gathered the skirt up off the floor; it was only a short step to the ground before they were on her with all the force of an ecstatic hurricane. Natalie’s arms were a vice around her waist while Remus held them both and pressed a smacking kiss to the top of her head. She hoped this bodice had proper boning, because her chest was simply going to explode with the light radiating inside her.

“I’m so happy for you,” Remus mumbled against the side of her head. “And I’m so excited, and you look so pretty, and I’m so proud of you.”

Natalie was there in half a second to brush her thumbs over Lily’s cheekbones and ease the lump in her throat. “Look at you,” she whispered, beaming. “Look at you!”

“I know.” She laughed again and it came out a bit choked. Natalie made a small, sympathetic sound as Remus pulled a pack of tissues from his back pocket, but Lily waved them off with a few fast blinks. “God, it’s—happy tears, I promise. I’m so happy. Can I get married tonight?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

Remus nodded, still offering the tissues. “Say the word, I’ll call James right now. I think he wanted to get married the night of the Cup.”

“Only took him eight years to ask,” Lily grumbled.

Their burst of laughter made several people across the store glance over, reducing them to hushed giggling in the best huddle Lily had ever been part of.

Soft, pastel thread bumped beneath James’ thumb as he ran it along the cuff on his suit. The pockets and lapels held much of the same—microscopic flowers, leaves, and patterns stitched into matte black fabric under Lily’s incredibly cryptic guidance.

“Looks damn good.”

“Ahblahablah!”

James tilted his shoulders this way and that. There had to be some square inch he was missing. Nothing in the world could possibly be this right. Then again, he was marrying Lily Evans, and that was pretty damn perfect. “D’you think her dress matches the suit?”

Sirius’ eyes flickered to the ground for a half-second. “…probably.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Maybe.”

Something in James’ stomach gave a funny swoop. A Lily swoop. “How did she look?”

Sirius’ laugh made Harry squeal around the fistful of t-shirt (definitely Remus’) he had shoved in his mouth. “Dude,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “You’re going to lose your mind.”

#lily evans #lily potter #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #natalie darcy #coops #jily #baby harry #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fic o’ween 2023 #fluff #wedding shopping

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joesanrio · 10 months

Note

Hey girl, can I have a Jey uso fic. Like you’re Paul’s daughter and like completely off limits. But he ignores that. It doesn’t have to be exactly like that, that was just the vibe. Lots of smut tho. Only if you’re comfortable. Thank you boo

Hey!!! Omg- I love this bcs I’ve been wanting to write abt Jey for a good while!! 🩷 I hope I didn’t disappoint.

Nobody will know | J.U

Summary: Being the daughter of Paul Heyman comes with its perks, but everyone knows that despite their attraction to you they could never have you…except him.

Pairings: Jey Uso x fem!reader || non-established relationship

Warnings: Secret relationship, teasing, closet!smut, nipple play, oral (m. recieves), asskink!jey, face grabbing, dom!jey, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, p in v (unprotected), creampies, L bombs, etc.

Word count: 2012

Ratings: Smut | 18+

———————————————————

“What’s up little miss untouchable?” Jey asked as he entered the locker room, as much as I pretended to hate the nickname, it always sounded so good coming from him. I smile before rolling my eyes as he sat down on the couch beside me, “I’m fine. Just got done filming.” I say avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t speak, instead he stares at me without even caring about how many people are in the room waiting for his acknowledgement. “You’re riding with me back to the hotel, right?” His voice entering my ears in a low whisper, I nod as he pulls away to talk to the other guys in the room.

Everyone knew that due to my dad’s overbearing presence that I was off-limits, barely getting to hang out with the other stars especially the male ones. Jey was different though; he and my father had this false sense of trust with each other which made him the only person who could even get a hug from me. But as much as my dad is protective, he’s also naïve to what goes on around him.

“What’s going on with you and Jey?” Natalya asked as I walked down the hall, my neck whipped back quickly as she startled me, “Oh my gosh Nattie! Nothing.” I gasp as her eyebrow rises with an unbelievable expression. “Nothing; is like a simple ‘Hey’ not a nickname and whispering in ear.” She says looking me up and down as I roll my eyes. “Okay! Maybe a little something but you know how my dad is… so it’s always nothing.” I say giving her a stern look as my dad walks down the hall with Roman. “Mm’kay whatever you say.” She turns back around when she spots my father making his way towards us, giving me a quick hug and leaving.

---

“You look gorgeous.” His voice muffled into my neck before sucking a small hickies onto my throat, my head falls back against the wall before my arms wrap around his shoulders. Pulling him closer his sultry breath falls onto my collarbones once his now kisses go farther down, placing a gentle kiss above my cleavage as his hands hold my waist tightly. “S’good.” I moan out softly while his lips are now forming into a smirk on my soft skin, my hands grabbing the hair on the nape of his neck to pull him up. Jey’s lips always fit perfect with mine, the taste of his cherry ChapStick now on my plump lips once his teeth pull softly at my bottom lip.

A loud knock on the door causes us to separate, “I’m on a call, give me a sec.” Jey calls out as his thumb rubs my smeared gloss from the side of my mouth and pecks a quick kiss onto my lips. “My bad, I’ll come back later then.” I hear Kevin from the other side of the door before his footsteps are heard leaving from the door and down the hall. Looking Jey up and down as his print is now visible in his sweats, “We got to go.” I say as fix his hair that’s ruffled up from my grasp.

Leaving the room, the cool air hits my warmed body. “Damn.” Jey says as he sees me in the new lighting while we walk to the parking lot to leave, looking over at him confused he says nothing but almost hits the wall as he admires my face. “Stop being silly and let’s go.” I say as his gaze leaves my eyes to fall onto my now wet and plumped lips, “Want to go back?” He stops and juts his head back towards the hallway. “Jey! Cut it out.” I giggle as he continues walking and opens the door that leads outside.

“So nice.” I say as we walked up onto his rental car, he pops the trunk before putting his luggage in first. He smiles before grabbing my suitcase and placing it in the back, I walk to the passenger door as he unlocks the car, and we get in. “Oh my gosh. It’s so pretty!” I exclaim as I admire the interior, but Jey’s too busy admiring me. “You’re pretty.” He smirks as I look at him unamused while he starts the car.

I can’t help but smile as we finally leave the arena, Jey takes no time as his hand is now resting on my thigh. I stare down at his huge hand before it moves further between my thighs, popping his hand he pulls it back to rest above. “You need to focus on driving.” I scold as his fingers rub little shapes onto my bare leg, “I got this.” He says as he gives me a quick look before focusing back on the road.

---

Jey’s lips fall onto mine as his kisses make my skin burn in lust, his large hands kneed into my waist as he hovers above me. My arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders to pull him down further on my body, his hips grinding eagerly into mine. “More.” I muffle into his now plumped lips, his eyes opening to look at my needy expression. He pulls away from the kiss to remove his shirt, which I follow suit as my red lace bra is on display. Jey bites his lips as his hand cups one of my breasts and his thumb rubbing over my nipple, I moan out softly at his delicate touch.

“I thought you didn’t like lace?” He questions as he lays back in between my thighs to get closer to my breast, “I never said that.” I gasp as his tongue licks down from my collarbone to my sternum. His smirk felt along my chest, as he pulled my bra to the side to suck onto my hardened nipple. Jey’s other hand coming up to play with the other, “Fuck...” I moaned out as his teeth pulled at sensitive bud. His tongue not far behind to soothe the area, he then switches to the other side.

My hands wanting to grab onto something as Jey pleases me, I pull his face up from my chest to kiss him. “You’re so sensitive.” Jey’s lips muffle against mine as I moan into the kiss while my hands now fall onto his biceps. His hips rocking against my core, making my back arch into his hold when his hand leaves from my breast to my waist. “Just fuck me already.” I whine before biting onto his bottom lip, causing a quick slap to make contact with my thigh.

“Fine, but you gotta do all the work since you have no patience.” He said pulling away from the kiss and leaning back onto his knees. A pout forming on my lips as I lift my hips to remove my shorts that I’ve yet to take off, “Fix your face.” Jey says grabbing my chin roughly, making the wet patch on my matching red panties darker. He lets go of my chin before pulling at the strings of his sweats, looking up at him as he pulls his large cock from the restraints of his pants.

We repositioned ourselves, Jey laid back on the pillows with his hands behind his head, his cock standing up as his tip glistens in the dim light. In between his legs, I lean forwards and I wrap my hands around the base of his large cock. Drooling at the sight of the precum leaking from his tip and the small twitches of his cock when I run my finger over the slit. He groans deeply as my lips wrap around the tip, the salty taste of the precum collecting on my tongue as he throws his head back in a bliss. “You’re so big.” I moan before licking from the bottom of the base to the top of his tip, his hands moving from behind his head to fist my hair into a ponytail.

“Put in your mouth baby.” He moans as I relax my jaw to take as much of him into my mouth as possible while I use my hands for the rest. His hips rolling up into my mouth before his tip pushes into my throat, his hips faltering at the tightness. “You like that?” I moan as I pull away from his cock as his eyes close and he nods. “Oh! You’re doing so good!” He praises me as I suck on his tip, his hands pushing my head further down his cock. Feeling his twitch in my mouth, his hips thrusting faster, I hollow my cheeks as he lets out a loud moan.

“Take it Baby, oh fuck- Yeah Just take it.” He moans as he holds my head down while his cum coats the back of my throat. His hands falling from my hair as his head is thrown back onto the pillows with his eyes closed, pulling away from him slowly I swallow the cum. “Swallowed it?” He says deeply as his eyes open for a slight moment when I stick my tongue out for him. “Good girl. Now come ride me.” He speaks breathlessly, as I smile and crawl onto his lap.

Sitting on his lap, the feeling of his warm, wet cock in between my folds as I roll my hips slowly on Jey’s. Moaning out quietly as my damp panties add to the pressure of my clit, “Such a cock slut.” He groans as his hands hold onto my waist. I bite my lip as I grind harder against him, before lifting my hips to pull my panties to the side. Jey’s eyes immediately falling to my glistening folds as the wet sounds of our arousal fills the room, “I love it so much.” I moan before grabbing Jey’s cock to insert into my entrance slowly.

Filling me up as I slide down his cock, my hands pressed against his tattooed chest. “Shit, your pussy is so tight.” He moans as I bottom out onto his cock, “Only for you.” I gasp breathlessly as I wait to adjust to his size. His hands holding on my waist and rubbing as I begin to bounce, “There you go, look at you.” Jey moans as his eyes look up into mine. I toss my head back as my breast bounce in front of me, the soft sounds of my ass slapping back down onto his hips filled the room. Leaning down to capture his lips, his hands moving into the curve of my back.

“You smell amazing.” He smiles on my lips before his tongue enters my mouth once he places small smacks on my ass. Gleaming at his compliment, riding him faster, “You’re always so sweet to me.” I say as kiss his neck. His breathy moans leaving his mouth as I begin to suck a hickey on his neck, pulling away to admire the darkening bruise. His hands now helping me bounce on him, “Oh- I’m gonna cum!” I squeal as Jey’s hips drill up into my core.

His hip randomly stops, making me whine out in disappointment. “You’re going to cum- cut it out.” He flips us over, his cock running in between my folds before enters back in my entrance. Almost cumming immediately, he pounds into me mercifully, “S’good!” I moan out as Jey’s hand grabs my face gently to have me look at him.

“So desperate.” He smirks as I clench onto his cock, “Oh you’re going to cum? Want to cum on my cock.” Jey squishes my face as my eyes are fluttering shut, his thrust never faltering as I cream onto his cock with a shaking orgasm.

“Damn girl.” He smirks before placing a rough kiss onto my lips, he holds my hips down as he fills my core up with his warm cum. “I love you.” I gasp as his fingers find their way to my clit and rubbing small circles, “I love you more baby.” He smiles as we calm down from our intense orgasms.

#jey uso #joshua fatu #jey uso smut #jey uso one shot #jey uso x y/n #jey uso fluff #joshua fatu smut #the usos #uso x Reader #uso smut #wwe superstars #wwe smackdown #jey uso fic #jey uso request #joesanrio

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bronx-bomber87 · 4 months

Text

Happy Monday lovely fandom. Lots to love about this one. Their opening scene is *chefs kiss* Some good Metro Tim. Really good Tim SL in general. Love this episode it’s fantastic for a lot of reasons. Let us begin shall we?

5x19 A Hole in the World.

We start off with some domestic Chenford and I’m here for it. Gimme. Lucy is studying in what looks to be one of Tim’s shirts. *squee* Pen in her bun looking all kinds of adorable. Tim stumbles out of her bedroom looking dead on his feet. Lucy having coffee ready for her sleepy boyfriend is everything. Her soft voice and excited features when she sees him is so precious. Gah she loves this man.

Ecstatic she gets to see him before work. Spend a little time together. She asks when he got in? Tim replying depends on what day it is? Ha Poor tired Tim. Lucy shooting back 'That bad huh?' Tim saying he’s eighty percent sure it’s Thursday LOL Lucy crushing his dreams telling him it’s Tuesday….His face is too funny. Poor man needs a day off in bed and snuggle time with his wife.

Lucy asks him what he was working on last night? I just love the whole feel in this scene. Him waking up all sleepy. Lucy is there happy to greet him. Little banter. Asking about what he’s working on. Married vibes in this moment. Lucy saying she stayed up incase she would catch him. Hoping the guy would turn himself in. Risking losing sleep to see her man. My Heart.

Tim says he did show up though. Showing her his battle scar. I saw a great parallel about this moment. That in past she had to ask if he was ok. Now he just shares it with her. She doesn't have to wonder. *happy sigh* Then we get the most glorious thing of all she calls him ‘Babe.’ Which I absolutely love. I think it’s so fitting for her to call him this. Unpopular opinion alert. I hate ‘baby.’ I legit cringe when I see it in a fic. Will straight bounce if it’s used to death as well. Just doesn’t seem like them IMO.

Babe seems much more fitting. Until I hear that word come out of either of their mouths. (Not counting Dim/Juicy) I can’t accept it as canon in my brain. Anyways that rant is over ha I love the concern and the way she softly touches his wound. Wanting to fix it for him. Can we talk about the tight fitting tank top and scruff? My god this man is trying to kill me. Sleepy scruffy Tim in his jams is welcome anytime. Give me more tank top Tim as well while we're at it. Loving that he has a hoodie there when he wakes up.

Which lends credence to my drawer theory. Man is keeping clothes there. I’m melting from all of these things at once. This is a fantastic opening scene for them. I love the way he shows her his wound first thing. Wanting her to make it better. The softest of humans around his girl. The way she gently touches it has me reeling. You know part of him showed her so she’d love on him a bit. Lucy jumped all over that and a sweet pet name to boot. I’m in heaven.

Lucy mentioning it was confident of this guy to try and take on 5 metro officers. I'm losing my mind over how once Tim is seated he’s not close enough for her. So Lucy pulls him even closer. Personal space wasn’t a word they knew before they were together. It’s non existent now that they are. Lucy lights up like a Christmas tree once he’s in front of her. Look at her above. Best thing to happen to her morning is him being there.

That line from 2x05 'They look so happy. I want that.' Now she has it and it looks good on her. Tim’s content ‘Mmm' and head tilt has me melting after she pulls him closer. His sweet gone for her smile and rubbing her arm. I'm a puddle. He is just as happy to be near her. Literally so content to share a quiet morning with his girl *internal screaming* They’re so adorable they might kill me. I’ll be writing the remaining reviews from the great beyond. So damn soft I’m on a cloud.

Once Tim is able to tear himself from her loving gaze he sees she’s studying. Genuinely confused asking what this is all is? I love her playful hit. Thinking he's pulling her leg. Tim is so baffled by this. She reminds him she’s studying for the detectives exam. Then questioning if she told him. I mean she might’ve but the man is sleep deprived and doesn’t know what day it is so...LOL

Tim replying he doesn’t think so? Lucy explaining why she’s going for it. Tim asking if she got the tap? Lucy is beaming when she tells him Harper and Lopez are backing her. (Of course they are. They know what a BAMF she is) Lucy looks so excited to share this news with him. Look at how proud he is of her. Exuding from that sexy smile of his. These are the moments where he’s that big softy for her.

Look at this love struck man. So proud of her he can’t stand it. Lucy starting with a little bit of self doubt. Saying with skepticism all she has to do is score in the top 12. Tim cuts her off before she can doubt herself any further. Saying she will. He knows how good of a test taker she is. Also how incredibly intelligent she is. He is her biggest fan and makes my heart so happy. Something that hasn’t changed from friends to more. Tim’s unwavering faith she will be amazing. No doubt in his mind about her crushing this.

From day one all he’s wanted is for her to succeed. To have an amazing career. Such the supportive husband not letting her doubt herself at all. I love her ‘Mmm’ as she leans in for their kiss. Heart eyes galore for him. Knowing that’s what he’s doing fo her. Her smile before she goes in for their kiss. *dreamy sigh* Always needing more than one kiss so they sneak in a second one. Forever love that. Such a great shot of a really cute morning kiss.

I adore the look on his face when he pulls back. That whole she fell first he fell harder resonating here in that look. The sweet rubbing of her arm getting me in feels as well. Can't keep his hands off her. Tim saying they better get used to not seeing each other then. Lucy adding in sadly yes. Between his hours and detective hours it'll be harder. Can see the sadness wash over her. Just as devastated by this idea as she was at the end of 5x12. Hating the idea of being apart from him so much. I do love Tim’s confidence it’ll be ok though.

Reminds me of Lucy’s in 5x12 and her talk with Tamara. Saying how they’d figure it out and they did. Little rocky but they did. This is a new obstacle for them to overcome is all. I love his wink at her when he tells her they’ll figure it out. It is fun to see their dynamic shift a little bit. Lucy being worried they’ll see less of each other. The worry is etched on her face. Tim being the positive one blows me away. Knowing they got this. Now that doesn’t mean they don’t need to have a deeper convo about this.

They for sure do. But I adore the depth of change in this man. With Lucy by his side there isn’t much he isn’t willing to do to figure it out. What happens when you are truly and unconditionally loved. Lucy has brought out this entirely new side of him and I love it so very much. Also it’s good for them to have these issues to work through. It’ll be productive for them even if it hurts a little along the way. Why productive angst is the best. Hurts so good and all that.

Nothing I love more than watching Tim in Metro mode. Hot damn. Fair warning he makes me very feral in this section. I have no regrets. Grey has looped in Tim and his team to watch Joel. Surveil him since he is a huge person of interest. Something about the the way he commands his team. Does things to me. Watching how he has plans in place.

Communicates everything so seamlessly. Just the complete control he has over this OP got me all hot and bothered not gonna lie. This case is serious but I can’t ignore how much I love watching him in the field. Especially with Metro. Phew lord. So much certainty in his commands and decisions. Crossed my legs couple times watching him in action not gonna lie LOL

We haven’t really gotten to see him on a mission yet. Be apart of patrol's mission's yes. But run his own OP that is exclusively Metro that we get to see? Haven't gotten that. I loved being able to watch him in his new element. Making calls on the fly as the situation develops. Then we get to see how he reacts under massive pressure running a team. He is watching Joel and it's obvious he is trying to split his team up. Tim can see his play from a mile away. Tim decides last minute to split them up in case. His seasoned gut coming into play in this decision. He's such a damn boss in this portion. Fanning myself as I watch him run this OP.

If you can watch him in this portion and not be turned on by his boss leadership I'm shocked.... and you're probably lying to yourself. LMAO Man is making me very thirsty in this scene. Just watching him have absolute control over everything around him is incredibly attractive. I need some water. *phew* We watch the hard choices he has to make during this OP. Joel has taken a motorcycle and they’re chasing him.

It’s getting more dangerous the faster he goes to get away. One of his guys is in pursuit and says he can keep up with him. The issue is he's in a car and Joel is not. Tim lets him pursue Joel till it gets too risky. Joel is going 130 entering the free way on that motorcycle. Tim makes the call to pull the plug despite some protest from his guy. He does as Tim tells him to and backs off.

He can't ensure no collateral damage due to the pursuit. Can't have an innocent family possibly get hurt to do it. Having to let him go despite wanting to pursue him. We can see how having to make this call frustrates Tim. It was the right call but damn it sucks. Once again love watching him in the field. Imma need more Metro Tim OP's in s6 writers just an FYI.

We return to Lucy at the station. They were able to locate Joel at an abandoned house. The kid was saved and removed thankfully. Sadly Tim had to shoot Joel once they entered and located him. He died on the scene. Didn’t leave him any choice in the matter. The shakiness in Lucy’s voice kills me as she approaches Nyla. Needing her guidance in this moment. Very stressed Tim still isn't back from IA yet.

She’s so worried about Tim and her anxiety is coming off her in waves. Harper being the amazing human can see this. She is tells her it’s ok. Harper can see how unsettled Lucy is. So she tries to calm her with some logic. Telling her that these types of interviews with IA are very through. They take awhile. That Tim will be fine. Lucy still looks like she hasn’t taken a breath though. That she can't do that till he's in her sights.

Tim makes his way into the bullpen and Lucy looks on verge of tears for him. That pull to go towards him is innate. Harper stops her when she sees Lucy move towards him. Telling her to let him talk to Grey first. She loves him so much. The look in her eyes when she sees him and her eyes follow him across the room. Ugh. My heart. Worried girlfriend mode has been activated and she can’t turn it off. There is just so much love in her expression and intense worry. A deep need to automatically make this better for him.

We can see how much she is longing to be near him. Wants to wrap him up in her arms and erase his pain. You can feel the anxiety coursing through her as she watches him make his way to Grey’s office. No one worries and cares for Tim like Lucy does that’s for sure. Plus her empathy is absorbing it all as well. She’s hurting because he is and it’s killing her to be away from him. But she is good and heeds Nylas advice to let him go for now….

The scene in Grey’s office has me crying. Gah Eric damn you and your amazing acting. He is WRECKED. Absolutely wrecked. Barely keeping it together in front of Wade. You can see the tears brimming in his eyes. He’s so emotional right now and trying so very hard to keep it in check. I'm so glad that they had this scene. Touched on how traumatic this was for Tim. Wasn’t glossed over. This scene showing the impact it had on him. Not only did he take a life but it was another cop's. One who KNEW Tim would have to pull the trigger if he forced his hand. Joel took the cowards way out. Made Tim pay the price for his exit.

Grey can see how distraught he is. The tears in this man’s eyes are breaking me. If Lucy could see this he would be in her arms so quickly. But she isn’t. I'm so glad he saw Wade first he needed this. Was important for Grey to absolve him in this moment. To hear it from someone who was his mentor and superior at one time. Not that Lucy’s opinion or help isn’t valid or wouldn’t help him. It will. He just needed to hear it from Grey first. That what he did was the right thing.

It’s why Harper suggested he see him first. Before she does. Logically Tim knows all the things he’s telling him. But he’s an emotional time bomb right now. So Grey reminds him that he had no choice. That he was dangerous. Tim repeating ‘I know’ because he does. Doesn’t change how he’s feeling though. I love Wade asking if there’s anything he can do? Tim gives his longest answer telling him to let him get back to him. Such a good scene. Broke my heart but damn good.

We return to our lovely couple catching up in the hallway. What a glow up this is I have to say. Going from hiding to Lucy being on his arm in front of the whole bullpen. The PDA in front of the station got me all in my feels. My heart may implode from how happy this makes me. Love her linking arms with one hand and touching his arm with the other. His reply to her question is such growth for him.

Before when he was keyed up he would just be angry. Lash out at those around him or push his feelings down and pretend he was ok. The fact that he can say he’ll be okay is huge. Tells her this calmly too. What a change in him. I remember seeing good parallel for this. His answer to Nell in 1x12 deflecting 'Yeah' and his reply to Angela in 2x11 when he was upset raging out. That he was fine just needed to blow off steam. With Lucy he's honest and doesn't deflect or explode. How far we've come.

Makes a massive difference when you’re loved by the right person. Lucy tries to be super soft in her approach. It’s why she’s does the soft touch first. It disarms him and she can speak her anxiety. Let out all the advice she’s been dying to say since he got back. Wanting so badly to soothe his raging emotions. Tim cuts her off and says it’s not the first time for him. Being bristly at first because it is still a default mode for him. Grown a lot but still getting used to the love and support of this woman next to him.

Lucy doesn’t let it stop her from being extra soft with him. She looks like she just wants absorb all his pain. Her eyes screaming as much as she touches her hand to his heart. Telling him she just wants to be helpful. Desperate to absolve him of this. He immediately melts at her touch and reverts back to soft Tim. Especially with her motives being so damn pure and in favor of helping him heal. Two episodes in a row she soothes him with just a simple touch. God I love them.

Tim thanks her eternally grateful for this woman in front of him. That she loves him and cares enough to do so. Put him first even when he’s slightly bristly still. Just like before they were together she doesn’t care if he is. Her main objective is to take care of him. He rubs her arm in the same affectionate manner as he did in their morning scene. This sweet touch speaking volumes for him. He’s so used to doing this stuff alone. To not have someone to be there in the aftermath.

But having her there for him changes everything. That realization melting his bristly reply from earlier. Heart eyes for days the two of them. In front of the entire station and I can’t get over it. Lucy giving him massive ones in reply to his thank you. Wanting so much to just make it better for him. Feeling like she isn't doing enough to help him though this. It's the way her body sags in that third gif. Wishing there was more she could do for him.

Tim needing the distraction from his emotions asking if she needs help? We watch Lucy melt like a puddle in front of him in the second gif. Loving him asking her if she needs it. Because despite the distraction it provides he genuinely wants to help her. Then we get a glorious call back to 2x02. Him basically recognizing all she did for him then in this moment. Knowing he wouldn’t be a sergeant without her. Without the books she recorded for him. Helping him study etc. Getting verbal recognition all these years later from him.

I too am a puddle Lucy. Not only recognizing her for what she did but telling her he wouldn’t have gotten score he did without her. (He really wouldn't have...) It’s here we see the scene go from serious to flirty as hell. Lucy touching his chest once again with her finger. Saying that’s true he owes her. Lucy seems so excited by this idea. Ready to cash in this long owed debt of his. Tim is smiling when she pokes him. Not an agitated bone in that man's body over this.

Tim is sassy af in his reply. Telling her he doesn’t owe her. Even though he was just a marshmallow and admitted as such moments ago... The flirty way she grabs his jacket. Oh my lord. The look in her eye as she walks away. Eyeing his lips and pulling on his jacket. Sweet lord this man is powerless before her. He knows it. Doesn’t fight her very long just says ‘Okay’ and goes after his girl. Never seen a man be so happy to be whipped in my life.

He is so ok that she runs this relationship for most part. We all know he actually loves this. Assertive Lucy is one of his favorites. Look at Lucy giving the orders and Tim following her lead no question. How times have changed folks. Broke his brain once again and all he can do is be in awe and follow after her. Such a goner for her and he’s very happy with this setup.

Follows her like a lost puppy out the door. Only Lucy could bring him back from the brink like this. Go from being upset and in his head to chasing after her. I love the amount of flirty sex talk these to have without ever really saying so. It’s amazing. Lucy definitely is owed a debt my god. He’s the one who passed the test but not without her help. Just like in 4x18 a debt is owed sir LOL Damn I love these two so very much it’s insane. S5 was a glorious gift. Kept on giving. Also if you’re needing a post 5x19 fic. D wrote an excellent one I highly recommend.

~~~~

Side notes -non Chenford

Lucy is so excited when she runs up to Harper at the station. Ready to sign up for the detectives exams. Telling Nyla she’s ready for this test. Harper is beaming saying she has no doubt. Then Smitty comes up and ruins everything. Saying one of the defective have out it out for her. We knew the 5 player trade could bite her… and it looks like it has Primm found out and isn’t happy about it. Be interesting to see how this will develop on s6.

Aaron’s face when Lucy calls herself one of the cool kids LOL hey man she is... haha

This Ep is Sooo good reminds me why I love this show as a whole. So emotional with Celina’s SL. Makes me cry thinking about my niece and nephew. There would be scorched earth for whoever got between me and them. This was the ep really made me love Celina. I wasn’t sure at first but this changed that. Her forgiving her mom is huge. Makes me cry.

I love Lucy being a BAMF with that offender. Putting him right in his own place when he gets defensive about it being harassment. Never be over how she's come into her own as a cop.

Angela looking up air tagging her kids LOL love her I really do haha

Thank you to my amazing readers who like, comment (love these) and reblogs. You are the reason I do what I do. I shall see you all in 5x20 :)

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Note

could i request a lil smutty eddie fic based on dangerous animals by arctic monkeys? 🤤

A/N: Thank you for requesting & for your patience! I hope mechanic Eddie fits the smutty vibes you were looking for. I pulled inspiration from the title and a few lyrics mainly.

Dangerous Animals

mechanic!eddie munson x fem! reader

Summary: After a long day, your mechanic makes a mess of you on the hood of your car. | masterlist | eddie's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 1k-3k

Warnings: cat-calling, swearing, too many petnames, Eddie is a little teasing/cocky, unprotected piv intercourse - creampie, public sex (open garage but no one is around)

It had been a day and the Indiana summer heat was just one of the many things making your jaw clench as you stepped towards the garage, men spilling out of it as the clock marked the end of their shifts.

Swatting at the gnats flying around your face, you swore you were able to grab fistfuls of the heavy and thick air settling around your body. Rolling your eyes as you push your sunglasses up, the men leaving the shop throw rags over their shoulders, elbows at each other, and catcalls towards you. One even having the nerve to call out, ‘Baby, why don’t you give us a smile?’

Pretending to search your purse, you pull out your middle finger and a faux look of shock, only to be met with wider grins, a few whistles, and a blow of a piece of bubble gum with a hand over the heart from the one asking you to smile, “Breaking my heart, girl.”

“Can’t break something that’s not there,” calling behind your shoulder as calls of ooh’s and ouches from the other men, a ‘keep trying’ and ‘she likes it’ murmuring quietly behind your back.

“Assholes,” mumbling as you enter the open door, glancing back at the boys hopping into trucks, hooting and hollering about where they were heading first for their Friday night festivities. So fixed on their departure, you almost trip over a pair of coverall clad legs outstretched under your bright blue Sunbeam.

A familiar voice calling from under the vehicle, “You know they like the chase.”

Scoffing, you sling your purse onto a bench, unbuttoning your work blouse to reveal a white tank top. Despite both doors open on either end of the garage, the oscillating fans seem to do nothing to dissipate the heat, only nudging it around. The air heavy with the smell of oil, tires, and what you were ninety percent sure was a bag of rotting funyuns. A classic rock station playing quietly and you smirk at the calendar hanging behind the counter- a bright blue star and your initials on today’s date.

“And that gives them a right to be pervy jerks?” shoving your shirt in your purse, heels crunching on the gravel beneath them as you spin towards the car once more.

A quiet laugh escapes from under the bright blue car, “I didn’t say that, now did I?” a grunt and hiss following before a quiet “Shit,” falls from him.

Stepping closer, you groan, “Don’t - don’t you dare say ‘shit’ under my baby, Munson. You promised it’d be done today.”

Grease covered thighs lead to the arms of the coveralls that have been left to hang in a loose knot around his waist, revealing what you assume was once a white shirt, now completely covered in oil and god knows what else. A metal tapping that gets louder before an abrupt clang, “I said I hoped it would be done today! I don’t make promises I can’t keep sweetheart, and I hate to break it to you, but your baby,” more grunting and sounds of metal clinking together ring out, the heels of his work boots dig into the gravel, “Is a piece of shit.”

The toe of your heel kicks his boot, “Take it back.”

“Fat chance,” he laughs before it falters off into a groan, “Alright, if I come out there, are you gonna kick my ass? Cause I’ve had a really shitty day and if the guys find out you beat me up, I’ll never be able to show my face here again.”

Taking a step back, you let out a frustrated huff, “I should beat you up! Quit dicking me around, it’s been weeks, can you fix the car or not Eddie?”

Wheels crunching on gravel, his upper half frees itself from under the hood. Sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead, a black bandana keeping his dark curls at bay, brown eyes shining through a layer of grime and grease on his face, and plush pink lips smirking up at your towering frame. It was like he was trying to distract you from the fact that you were supposed to be upset - unfair for him to look so cute when you were so irritated.

His arms stretch to hold the fender above his head, his arms and shoulders accentuated by the tight white shirt and grease as he moans with fake distress, “Honey, you know what girls like you saying ‘dick’ does to guys like me,” as you roll your eyes, he winks, “Don’t tease me.”

He starts to push himself up from the cart and something in you snaps. Maybe it's the day you've had, the ache in your calves from the heels, the kink in your neck, the men earlier, or the heat, but you've had it.

Your foot catches his chest, heel gently resting, but enough pressure to startle him. His hands flying to your bare calf as he stutters, "What the hell do you th-"

He leans back against the rolling cart as you lean down, "I'm the one teasing you? Give me a fucking break. Can you fix it or not?"

Jaw clenching as his eyes grow darker, he squeezes your calf gently and the pressure of it against your sore muscles allows an embarrassing moan to fall from your mouth. His lips twitch up into a smirk, and you remove your foot quickly, backing away.

Rising to his feet, you turn your back to him, about to grab your purse and head home, "Sorry, you weren't the only one who had a shitty day and-"

Hands on your waist pull you back harshly, spinning you to face him as his hand rests on your lower back. His mouth against your ear and his words sending chills down your spine despite the heat, "Where do you think you're going?"

"I-" gulping, you fall away from his grasp, the back of your legs hitting the front of your car and you fall against it. Eddie's eyes have turned almost black, losing all warmth, and he's stalking towards you like he was ready to devour you right there on the hood as you squeak out a quiet, "What are you doing?"

Leaning more into your space, dirty arms flexing as they cage you in, you hate that your mouth is watering at the sight of his veins in his forearms and hands, stark against the grease clinging to his skin.

"What's the matter sweetheart? Suddenly so shy...where'd that mouth go, huh?" Eddie's nose nudges against yours, breath hot and fanning across your cheek.

Your sweating fingers slide against the smooth metal beneath them, trying to cling to something for some sort of stability as he nudges your legs wider apart to step between. Your brain has melted, and your gasping and grasping to form a coherent thought other than 'fuck me right now'.

Eddie laughs quietly, a dirty hand resting on your bent knee, "You know what I think?" His hand slides up your thigh until his fingers are at the edge of your skirt. A whine escapes you and you close your eyes at the sound, hating that he's able to make you fall apart with a few touches to your skin and simple words. His lips brush yours just slightly as he whispers, "I think you like being teased just as much as you like doing the teasing. You're no better than any of those guys," his bottom lip catches your top one as yours part on their own volition, a gasp falling into his mouth as he continues, "I think you like the game we've been playing," his hand pushes the hem of your skirt slowly, lips against your cheek now, "You like the chase. Like a lioness stalking her prey."

Nose nudging against your skin and both of his hands on your thighs now, you let yourself fall back against the hood. His hands push your skirt until it's bunched around your hips, your black lace covered and clearly aroused center on full display for him. He reaches up, grabbing at your chest and your eyes flutter closed at the sight of the dark marks staining the white and he laughs into your jaw, "But maybe I'm wrong."

He starts to pull away from you and your knees tighten against his waist, arms rising to wrap around his neck as you laugh breathlessly and try to get some of your power back, “Eddie, don’t act like I can’t get you on your knees begging for this.”

His eyebrows raise beneath parted bangs and he shakes his head, “You are unbeli-”

Pulling him down harshly, his nose hitting yours, you whisper, “So those aren’t my initials next to a star on your calendar, Munson?”

Cheeks tinged pink, he shakes his head as his hands find your hips, fingers toying with the band of your panties and he smirks at the sound of your breath hitching, “You caught me sweetheart,” one finger hooking into the edge of the black fabric, he starts to tug it down as he leans closer to your ear, “I’ve been counting the days until you were back here, thinking about doing exactly this,” his teeth nip at your earlobe and your hand clamps around the back of his neck harder, encouraging him to keep going, “Thinking about all the ways I could get you onto the hood of your baby,” he mocks your nickname as he pulls away and stares into your eyes, “Just so I could fuck you so hard you can’t walk out of here.”

Gasping at his admission, the setting sun is casting Eddie in soft golden haze, a halo of light around him like he’s some sort of dark angel. You didn’t know if he was about to deliver you to heaven or hell, but in that moment, you were sure you’d follow him wherever he wanted to take you.

His fingers graze your ankle as he pulls your underwear from you fully and you pull him closer, his weight heavy against you as your lips brush against each other and you hiss, “So do it already.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows again, hands pulling his hardened length from his coveralls and boxers. Wrapping his hand around his thick and swollen cock, he leans over you, one hand resting over your shoulder as he smirks, “Not even gonna give me a please, pretty girl?”

Positive you were dripping down onto the hood of the car at this point from all of his teasing, the names, the way he looked - yet you refuse to let him have the satisfaction of seeing you melt into a puddle. Eddie pulls you harshly to meet his leaking tip, “Come on baby, don’t wanna forget our manners, we’re not animals.”

Huffing, you throw your head back, eyes trained on the garage ceiling, “Fuck, Eddie, stop dick-”

His tip slips into your entrance, pausing as you gasp, his mouth nipping your ear, “What did I say about using the word dick?”

A whimper slips out of you as he circles his hips slowly, the faint guitar on the radio swelling and he laughs, “Fuck, she’s trying to suck me in,” dipping below your ear, hot, wet and breathy kisses land across your skin, “Come on sweetheart, she’s impatient, need you to say-”

“Please!” your hands tangle in his hair and he slams into you as the word leaves your mouth.

Eddie’s lips crash into yours in a searing kiss, his tongue diving out to request entrance as his hips start to thrust into you harshly. Moans transferring between your mouths, your hands slide to his shoulders, fingers digging in as he adjusts his hips to a new angle. Your body is sliding against the hood, and his hands find your hips, holding you in place as he pushes deeper into you. He sucks your bottom lip between both of his, pulling and dragging away slowly as manages to find a frantic and precise rhythm, hitting the spot inside of you to make you fall apart in record time.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, his teeth sink into your lip he’s holding. He releases it, saliva stringing between you both and you swear he bit you hard enough to draw blood. Eddie’s dirty hands grip and grope at your sides, your ass, your thighs, leaving marks and filth in his trail. Your hands fall from his shoulders to above your head, hitting the car with a loud smack, as his mouth travels down your neck and to your shoulder, a mixture of biting and kissing that has you stretching away from him but begging him for more.

His hands on your bare skin on the sides of your stomach pull you tighter against his brutal hips and he speaks into your chest, “Already, baby? You’re gonna fall apart all over me, huh?”

Your mouth opens to protest, to come back with a witty remark and he goes faster, hitting the spot deep within you, hard enough to leave a bruise you’re sure. His name leaves your mouth instead of an insult, desperate and loud enough that someone in outer space could hear it. He catches your lips again, quick kisses between his words, “Don’t even try to lie to me,” he slides out suddenly, leaving you almost completely before slamming back into you and you scream against his mouth as he nods, voice dripping in fake concern, “Yeah?”

You nod against his lips and he laughs, repeating the agonizing pull out and brutal push back in as he demands, “Say it.”

You cry out, incoherent babbling, maybe his name, you don’t care as he returns to his quick and powerful thrusts, his hands lifting your hips as he somehow pushes even deeper within your walls at the new angle. Your body heated from head to toe, your shoes long fallen off, your heels dig into the car as he nips at your lip, teeth grazing your bottom one, “I’m waiting.”

“Ye-Yes!” your head knocking into the hood, you fling your hands into his hair as your entire body buzzed, lightning ready to strike, a euphoria taking over your brain, unable to think of anything other than the pleasure as he growls into your mouth - maybe he was wrong. Maybe you were animals. Wanting to make it last forever, to make him work for it and let him destroy you quickly and brutally all at the same time. Primal, impatient, desperate to please him and fall apart as he devoured you.

Eddie lets his weight fall against you, the pressure of his pelvis hitting your swollen nerves is the breaking point you needed. Pulling his hair as you scream even louder, not caring if the entire planet hears how he is making you feel. He continues to slam into you as your orgasm rolls through your body, hitting the sensitive spot over and over again. Eyes squeezing shut, mouth falling slack in a scream that’s fallen silent now, fingers deep in his curls, chest tightening enough to hold your breath, toes curling, and body convulsing and shaking underneath him.

Eddie’s lips find yours, soft and sweet contrasting with his pistoning hips as you feel him stutter against you, releasing and painting your insides. Your hands relax in his hair at the feeling, drifting to cradle his face as you kiss. Mouths moving passionately against each other’s, sweat dripping foreheads and noses pushing together in a way that made your stomach roll with butterflies like it was a sweet first date and not the aftershock of something so raw and animalistic. This was tender and intimate and you feel your eyelashes wetting, your body shivering beneath his as his fingers trail up your body, finding your face as you sigh contently into his lips. One large hand against your cheek and pushing into your hair to draw you closer to him, the other holding your jaw, opening you up for him more.

Inevitably, you needed air, and Eddie was the first to pull away, but only enough to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his eyes that had returned to their soft brown look over your face fondly. Voice raspy, a little sugary and sweet again, not the man he just was, he smiles softly and whispers, “Good?”

Smiling back at him, you tap your nose against his, “Great.”

Not a single care to move from your position, thighs shaking, your eyes straining to remain open, you were certain you were not going to be able to walk out of the garage after the way he just made you cum, just as he declared earlier.

Eddie’s nose and lips brush over your face as your breathing slowly returns to normal. Sweet kisses and quiet hums against your skin that seem to be apologizing for any teasing yet promising to do it all over again. As he kisses your jaw he whispers, “Can I put a star on the calendar for the same time next week, my lioness?”

Laughing as you nod, his smiling lips continue to kiss all over your face until he ducks into your neck, blowing a raspberry below your ear that somehow makes you shriek and tighten around him - totally annoyed and incredibly aroused only seconds apart.

As you let yourself relax under his weight and laughter, you knew you were in trouble. Eddie was powerful and patient, a devil and an angel - a dangerous animal that could protect you and destroy you in the same breath.

Please let me know what you thought! I appreciate any love & feedback left 🖤

tag list: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfiction

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whimsical-roasting · 11 months

Text

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?”

thinking about random moments shared in the jamie tartt x psych major!reader fic i have in my head... just cute shit tbh

okay so the reader has been with the Richmond club for a solid few months, she’s a familiar face and friendly to the team but not super close with everybody, minus Colin and surprisingly,,, Jamie hehe

the team seems to be having a serious tie-streak going on, and they’re all kinda bummed by it

Ted’s obviously still Ted, unwavering winners mindset that basically means ‘do your best, give yourself a pat, shake it off, and repeat’ - with the addition of a smile ofc!

the reader has been doing readings for her org psych class and knows that raising group morale is necessary but also so so hard.

sometimes motivational speeches just don’t cut it yknow?? sometimes you gotta think outside of the box to fix the vibes and spread positivity

so there she is, standing in the coach’s office with a bluetooth speaker in her hand, nervously waiting for it to be her turn to speak

“Coach Ted,” she calls him in a manner that’s playful but still professional - he’s insisted on just Ted in the past and she’s complied but for serious conversations, she enjoys leading with a ‘subtle sense of professionalism’

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?” she asks, fiddling with the speaker in her hand

“Well darlin, I love a good flash mob. Gosh, those folks must keep in touch, right?” He directs his eyes to Beard, who peaks over his book and replies affirmingly, “a bond has been formed,” causing both you and Ted to smile

“Well, less flash mob but more like... a bi-weekly dance break?” she continues as Ted’s eyes land on her again. “I know the boys are bummed with the tie-streak and I was reading in my org psych textbook about the importance of autonomy in decorating our workspaces, and how group morale helps cohesion which’ll lead to better attitudes and hopefully better performance - not that our performance has been poor, it’s been great, I’m proud of the boys really! But, it sucks to see them bummed out...So maybe a twice-a-week-song-dance-break will lift spirits??”

she’s rambling. she’s nervous!! it’s a good idea tbh but still, sharing means being vulnerable and the potential of getting rejected

Ted politely waits for her to finish, nodding along and then grins, “sounds wonderful darlin! Hey, maybe you can get the boys to give some song suggestions to help with the whole autonomy thing you mentioned.”

she’s happy !! grinning as she steps out to the locker room, dragging out the whiteboard from the corner and scribbling in a lil corner of it

Jamie’s eyes follow her silently. truth be told, they followed her when she entered and disappeared into the coach’s office. but he smiles a lil seeing her grin at herself

when she’s done with the whiteboard, she calls for attention and lets the boys know to write down their suggestions, and she’ll choose two songs for the week randomly!! she emphasizes nervously that it should help according to her textbooks and Jamie is silently nodding, eyes drifting to her hands as she fiddles with the whiteboard marker

Dani is the first to speak, “pardon me, can it be Spanish songs too?” and she smiles really big, “anything you like!!”

Isaac adds, “yea bruv, I fuck wit Bad Bunny” and there’s a wave of approving noises from the rest

SO, the plan has been implemented, and it’s frickin working!!!

the boys always look forward to whose song is chosen - lots of rap, some taylor swift, Work Hard Play Hard makes them go nuts, some musical songs from Colin but it’s okay cause the lads are hyped over Hamilton

Ted gets into it!! dancing!! Dani and Jan Maas share an imaginary mic!! it’s great, but Jamie’s favourite part is seeing her join them in the locker rooms for every dance break grooving to the music

one day SHE chooses the song... “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer cause the team seemed extra tired and bummed

everyone’s like ??? who chose this?? she’s like ‘me. I did.’

she’s trying to break the tension, so she takes her imaginary mic and goes to Ted, then Colin, then Sam, and soon everyone’s into it - just happily singing and dancing

she somehow ends up next to Jamie, shoulders bumping. she’s swaying as she faces him, playfully mouthing the lyrics to him as he smiles with a slight blush (not that she notices cause she’s blushing too)

they’re both dancing close to each other, and she lightly pokes his chin when the song goes, “you gotta keep your head up”, reaching up to pull down his headband at, “and you can let your hair down,” grinning at him when he’s like ‘hey!! :o... >:)’

the song ends, and they’re still laughing at each other, holding hands...a bit longer than they should tbh hehehe. Jamie loves her energy and kindness, it matches his goofiness and makes him wanna be a better person

but anyways!!! they pull away, hoping no one notices.. some do but don’t say anything

#jamie tartt x psych major!reader #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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the1975attheirverybest · 10 months

Text

A Strange Encounter

A/N: requested Matty X writer OC is finally here. Sorry about the delay. Idk if this is a longer fic soft launch or not. Just a thing I wrote

Warnings: none

———-

Matty swore he could feel the sweat running down his back. He glanced around the room, his anxiety rising as he failed to spot any of the faces that he’d expected to see here tonight. He’d spent the better part of the year wearing ties onstage, but, for some reason, in this moment, his tie felt suffocating. He loosened it slightly but quickly fixed it back up, feeling like a fish out of water at this charity event.

Scanning the room for a quiet place to take refuge in, he spotted the open bar and rushed towards it.

“Thank fuck,” he mumbled to himself rushing in the direction of the free alcohol. As he approached the bar, he became aware of a solitary person, a woman, sitting atop one of the barstools, her back towards him, drinking alone. She turned around as she felt him get closer, giving him a polite nod.

He nodded in return, flashing her a quick smile.

“What can I get you, sir?” the bartender offered.

Matty almost ordered a glass of wine, but, on a whim, he turned towards the woman instead, “what’re you having?” he gestured towards her glass.

“A Cherry lime tequila.”

“is it any good?”

She nodded.

Matty turned back to the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having, please.” He sat at the other end of the bar, losing his battle against the tie.

Moments later, the bartender returned with Matty’s drink in hand. The woman watched, out of the corner of her eye, as Matty whispered a polite ‘thank you,’ and took a sip of his drink. She noticed his face scrunching as the drink pour down his throat.

“How is it?” She asked, pressing her lips together to hide her amused smile.

“G- uhh- good.” Matty lied. “I’m Matty, by the way.” He moved one bar stool closer.

“Claire.”

He smiled softly, thinking of the next thing to say.

“So…Claire, what’s your vibe?”

“My- vibe?”

Matty swore he could see her skin physically crawl. He giggled, embarrassed. “That- is the dumbest thing that I’ve ever said in my entire life.”

Something about the way that he could instantly poke fun at himself without looking self-conscious softened her towards him.

“Let me try this again. Like an adult: you hear for the writers’ charity thing?”

“I am.”

“Me too!” His tone was a bit more enthusiastic than he’d hoped. “I’m a songwriter.” He offered up, calmer now, adjusting his demeanor. “Never been to one of these things before. To be honest, I kind of hate them. Fuckin rich people trying to make themselves feel better about the dystopian world that they’re partly to blame for by hosting fuckin fundraisers and chairing charitable foundations.”

Claire took a sip of her half empty glass, nodding as Matty spoke.

“So, what about you. You a writer too?”

She smiled, “yeah, I am. Fiction, though.”

She could see a light flash across his face. He leaned in closer, “that’s fuckin cool. Anything I might have read?”

“No.”

Matty frowned at her immediate, emphatic answer. “Why- not? Are you not any good?”

“Oh, I am. I just…” she adjusted her feet underneath her, sitting up straight.

“Just what?”

“Just don’t think it’s the kind of fiction that you would read.”

Matty’s lips parted, ready for a retort, but none came. After a moment of silence, he finally thought of something. “You’ve only just met me. You don’t know what kind of fiction I read.” His tone has an edge to it, but he remained composed.

“Oh, but I do- guys like you- the hair gel, the

loose tie, the general aversion to formal settings…you probably read Jack Kerouac and Kurt Vonnegut, and, like, David Foster Wallace.”

“Ha! Jokes on you. I’ve never read Vonnegut.”

His response caught her off guard, making her laugh.

“But, yeah I’ve read On The Road….and yeah I like David Foster Wallace.”

She had a triumphant look on her face. “Pale

King?”

“No, Infinite Jest, actually.” Matty watched her expression shift again. His turn to feel triumphant.

“You’ve read all of Infinite Jest?” She whispered, as if the revelation were some kind of secret.

“Twice.”

She studied him closely, pleased with the unexpected turn of their conversation.

“And…” Matty took a sip of his drink. “For your information, I also like Joan Didion, and Virginia Woolf, and Flannery O’Connor.”

She giggled, taking Matty aback by the effect that the sound of her laughter had on him. He looked away from his drink instantly, eyes focused on her.

“So you’re saying you’re not a complete cliche?”

He nodded. “Well, what about you, then? What kind of fiction do you like?”

Her lips curved into a smile as she heard his question, she leaned in to meet him halfway, but before she could speak, a well-dressed member of the venue staff approached her and whispered into her ear, pointing to the watch on his wrist.

She nodded, turning back to Matty with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me, I- I’m afraid I have to go. It was a pleasure meeting you, Matty.”

For the second time tonight, Matty found himself speechless. He wanted to say something, anything at all, but when his lips parted, no sound came out. Instead, he watched her walk away, getting smaller and smaller the further she got away from him.

***

The rest of the night droned on as Matty attempted to make polite conversation with screenwriters, journalists, and authors of various kinds around his table. He couldn’t help pulling out his phone to check the time, every time there was a lull in conversation.

In front of him, the event organizer stepped onstage announcing that the last speaker of the night was up next. It would be the host of the fundraiser and chair of the organization, Claire Jones.

Matty’s head whipped around, looking up from his phone and watching as Claire took the stairs from the side of the stage, walking towards the lectern.

He recalled the snide comments that he’d made to her about his disdain for these kinds of events and the people who organize them. He felt embarrassed. She must think he’s a complete asshole. Unsure if he should be looking at her, or how to control his facial expressions appropriately, he decided he’d be better off staring at his shoes until her speech.

Matty thought that, realistically, her speech couldn’t have been more than a few minutes long, but it felt like ages. He struggled to even register her words as his own echoed in his head. He sat there, wondering if he should apologize, wondering if it mattered, if she cared one way or the other, and wondering why he cared so much.

The sound of applause filled the room, Claire Jones stepped off the stage, esteemed guests began to move around tables and mingle, shaking hands with each other, hugging, catching up, and exchanging numbers.

By the time that Matty had made his way to the other end of the room, Claire was nowhere to be found. He walked the perimeter of the room a couple of times, hoping to spot her, but when he failed to find her, he defeatedly meandered towards the exit, sticking his hand into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

The nighttime breeze was merciful on his face. He hadn’t realized that he’d felt suffocated until he’d made it outside. He stood on the sidewalk, leaning against the building, smoking his cigarette. He was surprised to find himself disappointed that he’d never see Claire again.

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy x oc #matty healy x you #matty healy fanfic #matty healy smut #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x reader

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olderthannetfic · 11 months

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I have a lot respect for you but it's frustrating to the discussion on fandom and racism boiled down to a few fic interpretation arguments and then thoroughly dismissed.

That's inevitable when the campaign gave off vibes that were so strongly at odds with its assertion that it wasn't about which fic is bad.

I think the other problem is that none of us have any actual answers other than better blocking features or more ways to customize search for a given user.

How do you solve racism?

I don't think callouts are that useful most of the time, though I will signal boost when fairly credible posts about situations like that TOG one come around. I think privately giving friends support is useful, but that's not something you do at scale or that you mandate for other people. I don't think that shadowbanning fic by removing it from basic AO3 searches is desirable. I don't think increasing one ship vs. another's content is meaningful. I do think posts about gross media tropes can be useful if they're well-researched.

I was watching a speech by Beverly Daniel Tatum the other day, and she was talking about strategies that work offline. A lot of it boiled down to raising kids in multicultural neighborhoods and sending them to diverse schools. She had some examples where it had worked, but getting people to stop being NIMBY assholes so that housing and schools can actually be fixed is extremely difficult.

I think a lot of problems in fandom are symptoms that show up far downstream of the actual causes, and it's not that easy to solve anything here. It's not that we shouldn't oppose racism, but most of the suggestions I've seen just don't address what's actually going on (like canon screwing over a character and making them less popular as a consequence). A lot of fandom activism strikes me as rats in a barrel. People cling to the illusion that they can fix things here because it's less daunting than the reality that they're going to have to fight Hollywood or that they're not going to see that much success in their lifetime even if they do their activism well.

A nonwhite friend said something to me the other day about just wanting to stop hearing about anti-racist activism in fandom, full stop. They don't come here for that, and they're tired. I think it's a common sentiment and is part of why more of the informed people don't weigh in.

I post the majority of asks I get. If people have stories about fandom racism, I'll post them. It's just that the ones I've gotten are all like "I was harassed for writing my own identity wrong" with a plea to chill the fuck out and stop assuming things.

If people have practical suggestions, I'll post those too. I just think few of us have any really useful ideas.

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emilykaldwen · 2 months

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The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter One

Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

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Author's Note: After a lot of encouragement, I will be posting chapters in their entirety here and on AO3. Many many huge thanks to @acrossthesestars for being my co-pilot, and for holding my hand through writing this story. Thank you to everyone who has reblogged and commented. Your words mean the world to me.

CHAPTER ONE - THE WEIGHT THAT BROUGHT US HERE

Alicent watched the lords of the council settle into their seats, placing their markers in the proper place. Lord Tyland Lannister took his seat at the opposite end of the magnificent table, Lord Lyman Beesbury to his right. Maester Mellos and then Lord Larys at her own left hand. Jasper Wylde sat beside her father’s usual place at the right hand. The power of the realm all concentrated right in this room. They prayed to the Crone for guidance and wisdom at the beginning of every meeting, a practice that had thankfully not reached the ears of the king, as he’d been cloistered in his rooms since his illness had taken more of his body. It was one thing to allow her Faith to grace their dinner table. It was a whole other to have the Faith find its place at the Small Council. While his signature still graced the decrees, and his decisions still paramount for he was the King, Viserys had left the dealings of the realm to them. It was for the best - Viserys’ mind was giving way to his illness and the less seen, the better. Alicent didn’t know what she preferred: her husband demeaning her and neglecting her children, or him calling her Aemma when she came to care for him at night.

She grazed her fingers over the polished black marble ball in front of her as Maester Mellos began rattling off the never ending fighting between the Brackens and Blackwoods that not even the Father bearing down from the heavens himself could stop. They continued to tear themselves apart as if they would win all the gold in Casterly Rock for the longest, most ridiculous spat that the Tullys were no longer capable of handling. Sometimes she wished she could just drag charcoal lines along the map, piece off the floodplains to the north and the west and the mountains, let the other kingdoms take their pieces.

“Begs the question if perhaps it isn’t time to elect a new Lord Paramount to bring them to heel,” Lord Wylde harrumphed in his self-important way. The man was well and agreeable enough, Alicent thought, but every time he spoke, she missed Lyonel Strong. None of his proposals contained this ‘begging the question’ sort of nonsense, and none of Wylde’s attempts had any of the late Lord Strong’s well thought out solutions and easy friendliness.

“Unless grievous injustice is done, we cannot normally strip the title of Lord Paramount, but their inability to bring either house to heel since given the title is threatening the stability of the realm. Blackwoods own more land than the Tullys, and now we have reports they’ve gone undermining one another’s orchards, and putting others at risk.” Jasper turned his gaze to Larys, who had not spoken since the prayer. “Strong, your holding is Harrenhal. What do you have to say about this matter?”

Larys’ manner did not fool Alicent, but it worked wonders, as always, on Jasper. “This quarrel of theirs has lasted as long as the dynasty and longer still. King Jaehaerys brokered peace, and we cannot ascertain what sparked it again.” From the nervous licking of his lips to the fidgeting of his hands, he was a master at seeming far less dangerous than he truly was. “You might seek instead the opinion of my dearest uncle Simon. He is the castellan and knows both it and the Riverlands far better than I do, as I’ve been here during most of this recent infighting. ”

Wylde humphed, twitching his nose in such a way that his bushy mustache reminded Alicent of a walrus she’d seen at Driftmark. She dug her nails into her palm to hold back her laugh. “Should we offer the Tullys more incentive?” Wylde blustered, reaching for a solution that he could take credit for.

“Incentive for not letting their bannerman destroy harvests?” Tyland Lannister snorted, reclined in his chair as if he were the one running the meeting. “That’s their duty. If they can’t do it, then there’s a bigger issue to deal with.”

“Perhaps a betrothal,” Lord Beesbury spoke up, his eyes darting from Larys’ to hers. Alicent straightened, watching the man try to figure out how to present his own suggestion. “The Tullys are proud, and the Riverlands command a great host when they come together. Lord Tully’s great-grandson is around Princess Helaena’s age. It would be a show of friendship and goodwill.”

“A show of a dragon is what you mean, isn’t it?” Her father’s voice cut in smoothly, but she could see the annoyance in his eyes at the prospect of Helaena being sent to the Riverlands. She did not want her sweet girl sent so far away either, but his words hurt in their easy protectiveness of her daughter, when they had never done for herself.

“Dragons are a statement, my Lord Hand. If not the princess, perhaps… Lord Strong, your youngest sister is not yet married,” Beesbury continued, flush with ideas. Was Rhaenyra feeding them to him?

“If Grover Tully, or whomever is handling their seat, cannot bring them to heel, we should have the Lords Bracken and Blackwood come and explain themselves to the crown,” she cut in before Beesbury could really get his momentum going. Heads turned to look at her, and Alicent looked to the Grand Maester. “Send ravens today. By the moon’s turn, I want them before the Iron Throne explaining themselves.” There was a curl of satisfaction on her lips as the aging Mellos gestured to his assistant. “We should also have Lord Tully, or his son, also come to answer. I know Lord Grover has been recently ill,” she continued. Authority and compassion were the balance she must always strike, so that her decisions could not be questioned, her judgment nothing but sound. She was the Mother of the Realm after all.

“Well said, your Grace,” Larys said softly, that shadow blink of a smile on his face. Lord Beesbury’s suggestions were easily dismissed.

Tension knotted between her shoulder blades, and she shifted in her chair to relieve the pain. She drummed her fingers on the armrest of the chair as her father’s warning spun dizzily through her thoughts.

Either you prepare Aegon to rule, or you cleave to Rhaenyra and pray for her mercy.

That morning, Ser Criston found the boy who might be king passed out in the stables with his cock in hand; at least her father hadn’t found out. Alicent felt nauseated at the idea of sacrificing a girl barely younger than she’d been in an attempt to corral her son into leadership.

The doors of the chamber opened. Ser Harrold Westerling entered the room with the head dragonkeeper, Arryx, following behind. Her father rose not in a show of respect for the Kingsguard Commander, but some show of power - the unyielding stone and height of the tower that would not bow to neither wind nor storm.

“Forgive my tardiness, your Grace, my lords.”

Her father waved a hand and sat back down. “We were told that you were attending to an urgent matter, Lord Commander.”

Ser Harrold clasped his arm across his chest and bowed to her. “This morning, I was alerted to events that transpired last night inside of the dragonpit. Keeper Arryx wanted to speak of the matter to you personally.” Ser Harrold stepped back to allow the aging keeper to take the floor. Alicent gave her own nod to the man as he rose from his prostration.

“Dreamfyre has laid another clutch of eggs. Only three, your Grace, and she will let no one near them. Vhagar has been circling,” Arryx said.

Alicent frowned. Dreamfyre had not laid a clutch in several years now, and Vhagar rarely came to the pit. She was too old, too large, with little desire to be kept with her smaller brethren. The horrific beast preferred a rocky outcropping far out into the bay.

Aemond had given her a quizzical look when she’d brought it up once, when he was still bedridden and recovering from his mutilation. Her sweet boy was now strung through with a confidence that she’d never seen ignite within him when he had both eyes. The dangerous glint that confidence took as he’d grown older was also new.

She’s protecting what is hers, mother. We both are, he’d said.

“I have spoken with the Commander of the City Watch, your Grace, to ensure that those in the areas closest to the pit keep their distance unless absolutely necessary. It has allowed us to take stock of the current state of those neighborhoods.” Ser Harrold turned to look at Ser Otto. “A full report will be on your desk.”

Her father nodded, and Ser Harrold looked once more to the keeper.

Arryx shifted on his feet, and Alicent watched his eyes flick to the Grand Maester with an expression that she could not discern. The Citadel and the Hightowers have always stood side by side for the betterment of the realm, Alicent, and you’ll continue to foster that friendship, won’t you?

“Five of the kitlings have also died, your Grace. They were unbonded, brought from Dragonstone before…”

Before Daemon had come back.

“How many dragons does this put us at?” Her father’s deceptively mild tone was the opposite of his glee when Aemond had claimed Vhagar. The numbers requested were ones he’d calculated in his head, monthly, since he’d come back.

“Claimed, my lord?” Arryx asked, pausing momentarily. “Eleven, throughout the family. Lady Rhaena’s dragon hatched, but it was born twisted and sickly and did not last. I have not received word otherwise of any intention for Lady Rhaena to come and try to claim another dragon.”

Half of the dragons were claimed. Alicent watched her father drum his fingers along the table. Identifying the pattern took only a moment. He was counting.

Specifically, the dragons that were on their side.

“I want reports of the necropsies upon their completion,” her father said with a narrowed and assessing look, disturbed by the news. “The last thing we need is some strange illness to rip through all of them.”

Alicent chewed on the inside of her lip and watched the shining outline of the seven-pointed star beaming down on the table.

“Syrax is almost big enough for two riders now. Will you come touch the clouds with me, Alicent? Please?” Rhaenyra had always begged, mouth close to her ear, hands stroking her arms, her wounded and bloody fingers.

The joyful look that Aegon once gave her now reserved for a beast: “I’ve never known love until Sunfyre, mother. It’s like the world has color now that we’re together.”

“Dreamfyre keeps me tethered to the ground even as I fly in my dreams. She’s the only anchor I have,” said Helaena, who would withdraw from her touch as if it were a sting from a bee.

Little Daeron and his dragon clutched in his arms: “I can’t leave Tessarion behind, mother! I won’t know how to be happy without her!”

Dragons had robbed Alicent of everything.

“Thank you, Arryx. I will speak to the children and see what Prince Aemond might do about Vhagar.” The idea of her sweet, once immaculate and tender-hearted child being near that twisted, hoary thing still terrified her, no matter how gently reassuring Aemond could be.

Arryx did not move to leave just yet. “Forgive me, your Grace, but Vhagar is no Vermithor or Sunfyre: she is old and willful, and although she is bonded with our prince, I would suggest caution. He is… young, and Vhagar was forged in the fires of battle.”

He bowed once more before taking his leave.

Even in indescribable pain, in the face of his own father’s disregard and disdain, Aemond sought to soothe her. “Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”

What else would her father do to get more dragons on their side?

Nervous tension pulsed in the silence left when the doors closed behind the dragonkeeper, filled only by the soft creak of the Kingsguard’s mail and the gentle clink of the chain around Grand Maester Mellos’ neck as he shifted in his chair, barely audible. The enduring mystery and curiosity of dragons was a specter of The Stranger above them all. Alicent had heard her kingly husband remind Rhaenyra repeatedly: Dragons were not pets. The bond with them should not blind their riders to the power that thrummed ancient and thick in their veins.

She breathed slowly, letting the quiet ease, refusing to meet anyone else’s eyes as the tumult of feelings inside of her crashed upon the jagged edges of her broken ribs. This was the right choice. Her babies were only half-Targaryen, and Rhaenyra’s bastards were the same, whether she’d ever admit to it or not.

Everyone in the room had grown up with the stories that the Conquerors spread when they forged the throne: The Valyrian blood magic that had made them dragonriders was only to be found in their Targaryen blood. That bloodline needed to remain pure. Yet, Rhaena’s pure Valyrian blood did not save her first dragon from being born sickly and dying quickly, while Aemond - Targaryen only by half - bonded with Vhagar, the most powerful beast in the world.

There were no further reasons to believe the Targaryens were gods after all, and above the realm they had conquered.

The great chair of the King creaked as she slowly rose, taking in the council before her. There were no Targaryens in this room, even if she had birthed her own clutch of half-dragons. Alicent bore this task without joy or fanfare. It was a duty to be endured for the good of her family, for the good of her realm.

She stood with her hands folded in front of her, the image of the Mother of the Realm. Alicent had done this once before, when she had declared that she was standing in an official capacity for her husband.

“My lords of the council,” She hedged a glance at her father before moving her gaze to each man at the table. Ladies of the realm should be on the council. “It is with great joy and love that the King and myself, with Lord Larys Strong, announce to the small council that we have arranged the betrothal of our son, Prince Aegon Targaryen, and Lady Abrogail Strong.”

Each of the lords straightened in their chairs. Lord Beesbury frowned and glanced away from her. The uncertain and uncomfortable shifting in his chair belied the embarrassment he was attempting to hide. Alicent felt no need to point it out. It was a fine idea that he’d presented and not his fault he did not know what had already been decided. Even if he was Rhaenyra’s lapdog, Alicent would be the better person, and not rub his face in it.

The congratulations buzzed in her ears as she sat back down in her chair, and beneath the table, she tore at the skin along her left thumbnail. The pain was as dull as the congratulations in her ears. Her father’s voice was distant, jovial even.

They hadn’t even told Aegon and Abrogail yet. She remembered standing in the same position, knowing what was coming, knowing what it would destroy and desperately hoping that it might not.

I have decided to take a new wife. I intend to marry Lady Alicent Hightower before Spring’s end.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Rhaenyra forgive me forgivemeforgiveme.

“A feast is in order to announce Prince Aegon and Lady Abrogail’s betrothal,” Tyland’s jovial tone broke the silence. His suggestion—or statement, depending on how Alicent took it—was not one that she’d expected when she sat down in Viserys’ chair, but welcomed the confirmation of his support.

Meanwhile, Larys’s expression gave nothing away. He simply inclined his head in agreement.

Her son — her trueborn son — for all his faults, deserved to be celebrated. She was happy she didn’t have to fight for this. It was Mellos who spoke next: “Given the last wedding that was celebrated within these halls, it would be a reassuring gesture to the Lords of the Realm if they were given the opportunity, and for us to show unity within House Targaryen. With the Prince’s nameday in a few moons, perhaps we can celebrate with a tournament.”

Alicent’s eyes cut to her father, who smiled lightly, nodding in agreement but careful not to say a word, allowing the Maester to be responsible for the idea.

“Even better,” Tyland raised his goblet in agreement. “We haven’t had a proper celebration in years. What better occasion? Lord Rickard Reyne will be overjoyed to hear the honor bestowed on his granddaughter.” He looked over at her father. “I take it you’ll be writing to him, Lord Hand?”

The last time Alicent had seen her uncle Lord Rickard had been at her mother’s funeral: now no longer the worst day of her life, but the memory that was still seared into her mind. She recalled Lord Reyne as a stoic man, but he’d been kind to her in her grief. Alicent hoped the years had not taken that away from him, but they likely had.

Time always stole away kindness.

Lord Beesbury looked pensive. Alicent could practically hear the man pushing house markers along the map in his head as the conversation continued. “Was Princess Rhaenyra involved in such a discussion?”

“The Princess Rhaenyra has continued to seclude herself and,” he paused, his gaze heavy and considering as he took in those around the table. “Her second husband, Daemon Targaryen, at Dragonstone. Neither has she come to the small council as her status allows, nor has she engaged with matters of the realm that her being heir gives her right to,” her father said smoothly, and he was right. “The king still grieves his daughter’s choices, and she has yet to amend with him. I agree with Lord Lannister and our Grand Maester. This would show the strength and unity and willingness of House Targaryen to bond and celebrate with the realm.”

Beesbury gave a humorless chuckle. “And nothing to do with presenting Prince Aegon formally.” As a contender. As a choice - that was left unsaid.

Alicent felt a surge of anger inside of her, instinct compelling her to protect her children and pull the wool Viserys and Rhaenyra spun from Beesbury’s eyes so he could see the truths they refused to acknowledge.

Not long after Aemond had been born, Lord Lyonel had enlisted her in trying to get Viserys to hold another declaration to follow Rhaenyra, if she was truly his desired heir even with two healthy boys of his blood. The King had originally chosen Rhaenyra because of the loss of Baelon and Aemma. Everyone wanted to keep Daemon off the throne, lest he became another Maegor the Cruel… and now, he was to be Rhaenyra’s consort, and Viserys still would do nothing. Alicent refused to believe that Rhaenyra would kill her half-siblings, that she would kill Alicent’s children for whatever love had been there. Every dark, curly haired little boy caused her to fear not what Rhaenyra would decide, but what others would encourage her to do. Her father had not been wrong - her sons would be beacons of rebellion, damned by the man who had so desperately craved a son, yet now ignored. How bitter a pill.

Daemon terrified her. They should all be terrified of him. Daemon now had Rhaenyra’s ear and her heart and her body. Daemon was not one to hesitate if something stood in his way.

Did you fuck Daemon Targaryen in a pleasure house? Targaryens have such queer customs.

“Prince Aegon is eight and ten, an accomplished dragonrider, ah…” Mellos trailed off, and the uncertainty on his face clawed at Alicent’s insides. Failure was acid in her throat.

Either you prepare Aegon…

That boy who would be king had groped six serving girls at the last feast before drinking and whoring his way through the Street of Silk.

“My sister and heir is of unimpeachable character,” Larys’ quiet voice carried within the room. “As a child, Abrogail was a playmate of Prince Aegon and his siblings, and she has become a beloved ward of Queen Alicent, who has done a remarkable job of raising her after the deaths of our parents. I would consider her to be a prime example of all our realm offers to a family that has, if I may be candid, gone to great lengths to keep to their own since the conquest. Wouldn’t you agree, Grand Maester?”

That poor girl she’d now chained to him was a picture of the Maiden. It had taken everything to ensure that her father waited for it. She would not have another bride offered to the throne before she was of age, while her father wanted nothing more than for Aegon to grow up.

Tension crept back into the room at Larys’ words. Nobody would think to utter these thoughts had Viserys been sitting there. Mellos cleared his throat and avoided her father’s gaze to adjust the heavy chain around his neck. The title of Grand Maester had been his even before Viserys’ reign, and he was possibly the closest representative that was not her to speak to Viserys’ mind.

“I would agree, Lord Strong. Perhaps even exploring the eventuality of wedding Prince Aegon’s children to Prince Jacaerys’ would… reassure Princess Rhaenyra. She once suggested a betrothal between Princess Helaena and-”

“We already have other candidates in mind for my daughter,” Alicent cut in immediately. She wouldn’t say anything about Jace’s children and future grandchildren. She refused to entertain the idea that Helaena would marry Rhaneyra’s son to cover her indignity and insult to everything that she had been given and born into. “We have time before the wedding,” she said with a gentler tone. “A year should be more than enough to introduce them to the realm and start introducing Prince Aegon to newer responsibilities befitting his station.”

That was time enough to beat her son into someone who could be King.

Morning light streamed through the gauzy, sage curtains of the princess’ room. Abrogail licked the honey clinging to her fingers as she moved towards the washbasin, abandoning half-eaten bread and cold cuts of meat at the table. Helaena also ignored their meal as she lingered at the only window that could give her a good view of the Dragonpit. Vhagar had been on the prowl that morning, unusually territorial, and the change in the dragon’s temperament had entranced the friend whom she called sister. She jumped when Abby ventured near her, eyes wide and body tense as a startled cat, so the redhead pivoted in the opposite direction in order to retrieve Helaena’s bodice. Normally, she did not wear one unless the Queen noticed, but on days when her mind drifted, the structure of the garment seemed to keep Helaena focused on the moment instead of her dreams. The princess was somewhere else in her thoughts, mechanically holding up her arms to have the bodice slipped over her shift.

“I’m going to tighten the laces now, alright, Helaena?” Abrogail told the princess as she always did, walking through the process so she wasn’t surprised by anything.

Helaena gave no verbal indication that she was listening, but Abby noticed her pale blonde head bob in acceptance. Slowly, she began straightening the garment, mindful of keeping her touch on the lacing and the chemise from pulling and pinching uncomfortably and defeating the purpose.

“Pink and red, he might be dead. Blue and black, no coming back,” Helaena murmured. Her gaze drifted to Myrella Penrose, who approached with a yellow, diamond patterned dress for inspection. “I don’t want my scales to be so bright.” Helaena’s voice did not rise from her quiet tone, and her gaze flitted away.

“How about the new one from Sevenmas?” Abby offered brightly before Myrella’s face could twist into the uncertain and disturbed look it took whenever Helaena drifted. “The ocean blue one with the beading. That’ll be nice to feel, right, Helaena?”

The princess tilted her head about, humming. “Yes, that would be.” She threaded her fingers together, pressing in so the knuckles would crack. Myrella visibly winced at the sound, but Abby just shook her head and carefully tucked the laces into the bodice. “The perfect hug,” came the breathless statement, before Helaena’s bright lavender eyes finally focused away from whatever she was tracking to turn around and look towards her. Abby took the dress from Myrella and offered her cousin a smile as she held it up. She was used to Helaena’s inquisitive gazes, as if she was a bug under the pretty Maester’s glass Aemond had gifted his sister. “Do you need them, too?”

“A hug?” Abby frowned.

“Scales - armor to protect you,” she clarified. Helaena held her arms up to slide the dress over her head, and Abby left her to do the little buttons down the front herself. “Or would you prefer a pretty carapace? Silver and reds, greens and blue. Pinks and black and gold.”

Abby laughed at the idea of being covered in so many colors, and Helaena even returned the smile as she finished her buttons. It was a good sign, and the tingle of worry that had been crawling up and down along her spine immediately eased. “To be decorated in so many colors? That would make for lovely armor.”

Helaena’s mood was improving, which meant that when the Queen finally came in, she wouldn’t immediately launch into fretting and worrying about the princess being in ‘one of her episodes.’ Abby knew the Queen did not mean it badly, but it still made her uncomfortable. Were her mother still there, she would say something if Abby expressed her concern. She was alone here now, and things were as different as the day and night.

The door creaked open, but it wasn’t Alicent who entered. Helaena’s little smile turned bright and beaming: “Aemond!”

At four and ten, the boy was steadily growing with each passing turn of the moon. While bypassing Abrogail in height was no difficult feat, he now stood as tall as his sister and mother. Prince Aegon was the next family member he was bound to outgrow, and the Queen had already tasked her with ordering clothes to be made ready for when Aemond shot up again. Lord Otto towered over most, and he japed that Aemond might make it where Aegon had failed to surpass him.

Hearing Helaena’s joyous declaration, Abby caught a spray of pink blooming on his pale cheeks, and Aemond reached up to adjust the soft leather strap of his eyepatch. The scar no longer looked angry, but it was prominent; a ridge of thick skin that was only just smoothing out with time. The prince held a jar carefully in his hands. He took several steps before Abby clucked her tongue at him the way she would at her own cat, though Theraxis had not joined her that morning in Helaena’s room. Earlier, a maid brought along with their meals news that the cat was gallivanting in the discarded feathers while the scullery maids plucked chickens.

“Your mother will be up any minute. She said she doesn’t want to catch you in here anymore,” Abby warned with an arched brow. There was no censure in her teasing tone. Aemond was nearly her own little brother, although much was changing as they left their childhoods behind.

“She won’t be here for him,” Helaena said in a voice far more present than it had been before, Aemond’s very presence pulling her back down to earth and away from the clouds. “What did you bring me?” Even though her buttons were only half-done, Helaena rushed across the room to Aemond with her arms outstretched and fingers wiggling. “Oh! It’s beautiful! Abby! Look!” She held up the jar filled with little sticks and leaves – a fat blue and yellow cocoon precariously hanging from one forked stick inside. “I wonder if it belongs to the ones I released last year.”

“You’ll be the mother of all the moths and butterflies in the Red Keep,” Aemond said softly, so softly that Abby could hardly hear him despite standing close by.

Abrogail moved away from the siblings, smiling at Myrella and leading the woman to the opened door. “Thank you for your help this morning. I believe the Queen will need you more today. Let her know we’ll be going to the gardens later, if you please.” Lately, the Queen had been sending the Penrose woman to help Abby tend to the princess’ needs. It had made her nervous. When she asked the Queen if she was being replaced, the words stuck to her throat. Her Grace had been adamant that it was not the case at all, that it was only so Abrogail could learn from her in preparation for her own running of a household, and give Helaena time to get used to someone else helping her.

Another part of Abby wondered if the Queen knew Aemond was still coming to visit in the morning. Or worse, that Uncle Otto was spying. Abby was protective of her friends, her kin. They were siblings bonded through the years of fights in the mud and pranks and stories in the nursery. Bonds such as theirs were not so easily broken; they only changed as time passed, as things happened, like Aemond losing an eye.

Myrella Penrose gave her a tight smile and left down the hall. Abby watched her go, lingering in the door as Aemond and Helaena whispered in the room. Her friend’s quiet giggles were a rare sound, and Abby would do anything to protect those moments for her, for them both. She tugged at the embroidered cuffs of her dark blue-gray dress, thumbs brushing the little weirwood leaves sewn in delicate scarlet thread. Little golden dragons danced through them as a symbol of her ties with the family. Aegon had picked the golden thread, predictable as ever, when she’d asked his opinion.

She thought of the embroidered knot Helaena had been making – silver and green, tangling with red and black and gold. There were so many twists, but Helaena assured her that there was a rhyme to it, a dance with complicated steps. Aemond’s soft laugh cracked a bit, and Abby bit her lower lip to hide her giggle at the sound. She turned her head, and while she couldn’t quite make them out, she could see their shadows along the stone floor. They stood close together, heads bowed over something - maybe the jar, she couldn’t tell.

Heavy and purposeful footsteps echoed down the hall. Abby’s head snapped up from where she stood within the doorway, not immediately visible. She strained to identify the cadence, and her stomach twisted when she did.

“It’s him,” she hissed, glancing wide-eyed over her shoulder. Aemond’s head was close to Helaena’s with her hands resting on his shoulders. At Abby’s raised alarm, her fingers twisted in his dark green doublet and yanked him towards the partition, shoving him behind it. Abby snatched the jar with the precious cocoon inside and tucked it on the bookshelf behind the embroidered manticore Helaena had just finished. Otto Hightower’s footsteps were not alone, although the Hightower guards did not enter the Princess’ room when he swept in. Abby immediately dropped into a curtsy, a murmur of, “Lord Uncle.” Helaena bobbed slightly, twisting back and forth a bit. “Good morning, grandfather,” she said, bounding up to press a kiss on his cheek. If Otto had any weakness, it would be his unparalleled love and favoritism of his granddaughter. It was hard to tell how much Helaena enjoyed her grandfather’s attention and how much was one of her games, but whatever it was, it worked.

“Good morning, sweet girl. You look lovely today.” Otto’s voice was fond, his smile more gentle than he seemed capable of. He was an intimidating man. Abby had received nothing but kindness and vague disinterest, but he still made her nervous. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to borrow your cousin.” She felt her cheeks color as Otto’s gaze moved to her. Her mouth dried as her nerves returned to where they’d been when standing before the Queen, wondering if she was being replaced. Perhaps Larys was sending her back to Harrenhal or her sister was demanding she go to her in Casterly Rock.

Helaena smiled at her, though, with her hands folded across her stomach. “I’ll help you with your carapace later,” she reassured her. “You won’t be without armor.”

Closing the door behind them, the Hightower guards followed a few paces behind as Abby fell in step with him.

“Is everything alright?” she asked as they went left instead of right, towards the Hand’s tower. It had been years since she’d walked this path that had been as familiar to her as the gardens of the Red Keep. Her eyes glanced for the loose stone at the corner of the step, where she’d stow secret messages in the little hollow behind it. Had she left a note there? Was there perhaps a mystery one waiting for her?

“It is. And I hope you have been well yourself.” Lord Otto looked down at her gently, and she nodded. “The Queen says you pray often in the Sept?”

A prompt. A strange one, but a prompt all the same. She swallowed past her dry mouth and put a smile on her face. “Yes, I enjoy the quiet, and it helps me feel closer to my parents.” And brother, but she was careful not to mention Harwin around anyone but a handful. “It’s especially nice when her Grace joins me. It’s almost like I have my mother back.” No one could replace her mother, but the Queen had been there for as long as she could remember, and sometimes, when she tilted her head a certain way and the light caught in Queen Alicent’s auburn curls, she could pretend her mother was there once more.

“Her Grace speaks highly of you – how good you are with Princess Helaena, well behaved and polite. She said that you and the princess have made things for the poor children of the city. A very kind and admirable pursuit for you both. Your father would be very proud.”

“Thank you.” Abby wasn’t sure what else to say or what he was getting at as they began climbing the winding staircase. The familiarity of it hit her like a scent memory - one sudden and revealing of long-forgotten feelings. “I do my best to follow the Queen’s guidance and reflect well on my position within the family and her example.”

“Good. Very good.” She wasn’t sure if it was something she was supposed to reply to, so she hedged her bets and remained quiet. Her palms were sweating, and she discreetly wiped them on her skirt as she held the fabric. “I’ve noticed that you and Prince Aegon do not spend as much time together as you used to.”

Aegon? Why was she being asked about Aegon? Her stomach twisted, and she felt a prickle of heat along the back of her neck. It was true: they didn’t spend as much time together, but they hadn’t for years now, not since she spent more of her time with Helaena and… Aegon? Well, Aegon had been withdrawing slowly but surely for so long, like fraying threads at the seams. She’d be lying if she claimed to not miss him, because she did. She missed the happier boy he’d been, who did not constantly ply himself with drink and was more mercurial than a wild dragon.

Abrogail would also be lying if she claimed they saw little of one another, or spent no time at all because that was untrue as well. Until the past few moons, she’d gather lunch for the two of them when he finally rose well past noon, and he’d take her flying wherever he and Sunfyre desired to go. It had been something quiet and cherished, simply the three of them away from everything. Until Aegon had gotten in the tavern brawl all that time ago. Until Aegon started avoiding her. Until he barely acknowledged her at meals that he decided to join, even when he sat beside her. There was no way that Otto Hightower would not be aware of that, and she would not hedge around it. It wasn’t like anything untoward was happening.

“Not as much, but that is a natural casualty of leaving behind childhood. He found me earlier this week because it seemed there was a lack of honey cakes in the kitchen and I was the first to be interrogated.” There was a note of amusement in her voice, and Abby smiled in memory of his indignation and how silly he looked when she shoved honey cake into his mouth to stop his ranting. “He occasionally accompanies me in the Sept to pray. It’s incredibly kind of him to do so.”

She mounted a few more steps before realizing that Lord Hightower had paused. She turned to look at him. Morning light streaked through the narrow, delicate paned windows, casting shadow and illuminating dust in the air. He stared up at her, and with a few steps between them, she stood at his height. It was the first time she’d ever met her uncle’s eyes. Unlike her own unreadable brother, Otto’s face was not so impassive. He looked intrigued by her admission. Abby’s hands wound into her skirt so as not to fidget.

“He was not inappropriate, if that is your concern, my lord. Prince Aegon behaved with due respect.” To defend Aegon was second nature to her, and she would do so towards arguably the most powerful man in the realm if it meant to spare Aegon more shame and ire when, for once, he’d done nothing wrong. Which was true. Aegon hadn’t said a single thing. He knelt beside her, lighting candles, and simply stayed with her while she prayed for her family. He hadn’t even put a hand of comfort on her shoulder. She felt that was worth mentioning, given his current proclivities. She would not deny his vices, but she would not break confidence, and she would let no one, especially Lord Otto, think any worse of him if she could help it.

“Very good.” It took everything in her to keep the bewilderment off her face as she tried to understand what exactly he was trying to figure out. Otto resumed their progress, although now he rested a heavy hand between her shoulder blades like a father guiding a child. “So, you have no current complications with him?”

Complications? Did he think she’d lifted her skirts for Aegon? It wasn’t like she’d never thought of kissing him on those lazy afternoons when they’d lay in the grass and stare at the sky somewhere in the Kingswood with Sunfyre sunning himself like a cat. Of course she’d thought about kissing him, especially when he was at his most melancholy, with tears pooling in his eyes, making them pinker than normal. A kiss beyond the games children play, a kiss to comfort an angry prince in the firelight’s glow, his tears coursing down his cheeks with each snip of her embroidery scissors that sent locks of moonlight hair to the ground.

He’d never touched her more than a handhold, and far less than she touched him in her casual affections.

“No. No complications,” she confirmed.

They reached the landing, and Abby ran her hand over the stone dragon curled up in eternal sleep at the top of the stairs. Her fingers scratched along the smooth curve of its head the way she’d done every morning when she visited her father. She felt her uncle’s gaze on her, and she drew her hand away, hurrying to follow him into his office with her cheeks burning beneath her freckles, relieved only just by his vaguely amused expression.

The room was darker than it had been before. Gone were the stacks of books with various slips of paper sticking out haphazardly, or Theraxis lounging lazily along the cool stone floor by the door with his fluffy tail, sending motes of dust into the air. She instinctively clutched her skirt on the right to pull them away, so used to a giant paw the size of her hand grabbing at the fluttering fabric. But Theraxis was not there. The crumbling tome about the Andal invasion was absent from where it once rested on the side table. Instead, Larys stood by the fire with his back to her, as did the Queen, her lovely green dress covering her from neck to wrist with a golden pattern woven in the fabric that caught the firelight. Her face pinched in the way it did when she was uncertain and trying not to pick at her nails.

Abby noticed, of course. It usually meant that someone was about to get yelled at or she would send them away with the other ladies.

The figure in the chair slouched so far down that his silver head nearly vanished behind the back of it. At the clearing of Lord Otto’s throat, Aegon jerked up. His whole body held so much tension that it made Abby’s own hurt just by looking at him. He peered over his shoulder at them with glossy, red-rimmed eyes that give him a strange, ethereal sort of gaze, skin pale enough to prominently display the flushed pink mottling of a strike against his right cheek. He looked stuffy and uncomfortable in his dark green doublet, his fingers absently tugging at the buttons and collar. As his gaze focused, his eyes widened and darted from the uncertainty she knew was on her own face to his grandfather behind her.

The thud as Otto shut the door reverberated through her, and she and Aegon both flinched at the sound. Out of the corner of her eye, Abby could see the Queen flinch as well. Larys, as always, looked unphased. The heavy hand on her back pushed her towards the empty chair closer to the fire, and she had no time to bob a curtsy; courtesies stuck like toffee in her mouth.

The chairs once held the delicately embroidered pillows her mother made. She would curl up with them and read aloud from the books scattered around while her papa worked. He would-

“Queen Alicent and Lord Larys have received several letters expressing interest in you, Abrogail,” Otto said, walking behind his desk. She dug her thumbnail into the pad of her middle finger, and she saw Aegon’s booted foot twitch on the flagstone – a rocking motion from the ball of his foot to his heel before slapping it back down beneath the desk. Wood crackled in the fireplace. “Lord Farman is looking for a wife for his eldest, and Faircastle would be close to your sister.”

He plucked a scroll from the basket as he spoke, and Abby felt her stomach churn with nerves as a red heat clawed along her throat. She did not venture a look at Aegon, save for the foot he kept rocking back, the heel he repeatedly ground into the floor. He’d not gone back to slouching. He could be indolent and rude when he wanted, but not even Aegon dared to in his grandfather’s presence. Abby didn’t understand what this was about, or why Aegon was here.

“Edmund Vance, the heir to House Vance, recently lost his wife. A good man, and part of the Riverlands although a small seat. Or, if you married Jesper Celtigar, the heir of Crackclaw, you’d be able to remain in King’s Landing.”

Otto Hightower produced scroll after scroll and Abrogail felt the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks, confusion keeping her words locked away. How was she supposed to react to all of this? What was he trying to say? Were all these marriage proposals meant to make her feel better about herself? No, that was too odd to contemplate.

Why was Aegon here?

“Lord Grover has also written of his interest in you for his grandson. A Paramount seat would let you be close to your home at Harrenhal, and he already has an heir. He would take good care of you, and your children would have every opportunity.” Another scroll plucked from the basket. “It would bring Harrenhal into their holdings. Is that not correct, Lord Larys?”

Right. Harrenhal.

A woman’s lot is to only be worth what she could bring to the table.

Her brother was a man of few words, and he inclined his head with a shadow of a smile flickering across his face. Abby looked at the queen to find that her face was pinching harder. In the interim, Queen Alicent stepped away from the fire and moved instead to the desk with the gentle swoosh of her skirts gliding across the stone. She cleared her throat, a smile fighting its way on her face.

“All the offers were wonderful for you, my sweet girl, but none seemed right.” The Queen reached out to tuck a copper curl behind her ear, and Abby could not tell if this was supposed to be comforting to her or if the Queen sought comfort in the action for herself. Her lungs felt constricted, and it finally dawned on her.

Oh.

The sole of Aegon’s boot continued to drag across the stone in both a nervous fidget and to keep himself from slouching down even further into the chair. The only reason she could hear it was because of how focused she’d been on it, but now blood rushed into her head and Abby broke eye contact with her cousin to look down in her lap.

“What does seem right is for you and Aegon to be married, after your nameday. You’ll be eight and ten, and the pair of you will go to live at Harrenhal, and make your home there.”

Oh.

“Are you fucking serious?” Aegon’s voice was a hoarse, disused rasp from a night with endless drink. When she looked at him again, she noticed that his hair was still damp, and that beads of water from the wet ends had soaked little spots into the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t looking at her, but up at his mother, and then, incredulously, across the desk at his grandfather.

Otto’s face remained impassive following his grandson’s outburst. Abby wanted to grab Aegon and drag him out of the way of whatever was about to come out of the Hand’s mouth, as if the words would physically harm him.

The silence lengthened. Another log popped in the fireplace.

“He speaks.” The amusement in Otto’s voice caused Aegon to draw back further into his chair before he finally turned to look at her. His eyes were so red-rimmed, and his sullen face was so terribly pale that the pink-lilac of his eyes stood out ethereally, inhumanly like the drawing of a fae folk from a book she had as a child - wild and cornered. He’d bitten his pouty, chapped lips bloody.

Aegon searched her face for an answer to a question that she did not know. The only thing Abrogail could do was give him the gentle, reassuring smile she’d given him countless times before. It was what she did in this world: comfort her loved ones in any way possible, even as she needed to bury her own feelings on the matter. Feelings that, in this particular case, she couldn’t even begin untangling in the moment.

“Well, that makes us luckier than most, doesn’t it?” Abby cleared her throat and turned the smile onto the others in the room. She reached up to grasp the Queen’s hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze before she burst into a million pieces. Whether it was her, or the Queen, that might burst, she could not say. “We are fortunate to know one another so well and to be of an age. I thank you Lord Hightower, your Grace.” She looked at Larys, who remained silent in his observations, as always – an owl in a tree, eyes taking in everything. “Thank you, brother, for looking out for me.”

She felt Aegon’s eyes continue to pin on her. She looked back at him.

The wild and anxious expression was still on his face, and instinct compelled her, as it often did, to reach out her hand to take his - but he surprised her by beating her to it. His skin felt like fire engulfing her frigid hand and his fingers tangled with hers with easy familiarity. Before she could register what was happening, Aegon’s chair was already scraping across the floor and he pulled her from her chair with the momentum of jumping from his own. There was no pause in his movement as he dragged her to the door.

“How very fortunate we are.” A laugh bubbled from Aegon’s chest. It was a joyless sound when he laughed in the presence of his mother and grandsire. It was edged with the familiar mania; Aegon laughed when he was afraid, when he was anxious, when he was trying not to scream as his world was coming apart, or the laughter and joy on the back of Sunfyre. He tilted his head to stare up at the ceiling before throwing a look over his shoulder at the three across the room. “How very lucky we are.”

Aegon’s hand was clammy around hers, his grip bordering on painful. He yanked the door open with a protesting whine of the latch. Abby heard the Queen calling after him, but Aegon’s strides were purposeful as they ate up the ground to get away. Only the grip of their hands kept her from being left behind in the claustrophobic room where their future was being decided for them.

It might have been the second bravest thing she’d ever witnessed from him.

[Chapter Two]

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon x abby #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #my fics

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