Hi Hi! Okay So Those Song Prompts Are Magnificent. How About ‘17. And At Once I Knew, I Was Not Magnificent

Hi hi! Okay so those song prompts are magnificent. How about ‘17. And at once I knew, I was not magnificent - Holocene, Bon Iver’

It would be good to have something where Aemond l sees the reader for the first time at a ball or something and his own little view that he is superior to others comes crashing down because he is in absolute awe of her? Feel free to alter/tweak/change whatever!

thank you so much @littlemisscaptainfandom ! i ran wild with this one. feral. i love the idea of aemond being outplayed because of his smugness, and the ball idea - enjoy!

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Magnificent

Warnings: Aemond being in deep denial lmao WC: 3333 (nice)

Prompt 17: "And at once I knew, I was not magnificent" - Holocene, Bon Iver

He heard you long before he saw you – the uneven heel clacking of a noble’s daughter who had shirked one too many dance lessons.

“No,” he heard a lilting voice laugh, impatiently. “Like this - right foot second, you dolt.”

Dolt indeed – the instruction was lost on the girl, whoever in the Seven she was. Yet another sacrificial lamb to lure the unwed dragon into marriage, no doubt. Even with one eye and a turned back, Aemond could practically smell her family’s pathetic attempt at temptation – a corset two sizes too small and a family ambition two leagues too large.

The prince didn’t deign to watch the scene. He preferred the game of gleaning, observation – seeing without seeing. Creating the tapestry in his mind and tracing the threads to know which to pull to watch it all unravel. It had long been said by the Maesters that when one loses a sense, the others bolster themselves, and indeed, all he had to do was listen.

Aemond heard the Dolt relinquish a dramatic sigh. “It seems that I simply must retire to the fray then Elyana, lest I bring shame upon our most noble house.”

The younger – Elyana – huffed.

“It would be wise. How father expects to make you a dragon bride, I will never know. You cannot dance, or sing, or embroider –”

“Yes, and lest we forget my stunning lack of maternal instinct,” you lamented. “Remember when Darya’s little one bit me?”

Aemond smiled – smug, slight, vulpine. He was right, of course, as he always was.

The sudden sound of shattered glass upon flagstones jerked Aemond out of his wager. He acted on instinct, as he always did, head whipping towards the drunken laughter and breaking his reverie. Behind him indeed stood two girls, as different as the sun and moon. The younger, dressed in fine lilac gossamer and silver, swiftly began to chase the bard and beg for another song.

And then there was you. Aemond’s eye roamed your figure, appraising the rich, dark olive of your gown and its deep, square neckline – Braavosi velvet, he’d wager, a show of wealth to have such long sleeves of the stuff. A little demure for an attempted seduction, he mused. Perhaps her family thought to appeal to mother’s piousness.

The prince would never admit that this was the longest he had stared at a woman. He simply wanted to improve his skill of gleaning, listening, to compare the observations he made with the reality before him. It was imperative to absorb every detail; the way that your gold pendant heaved with your shallow, shocked breathing, and the sliver of hair resting on your cheek. There was a power in your tensed shoulders - coiled, reactive, ready for the threat of weight. Aemond felt his fingers twitch against his will, a yearning to carry it for you.

He snapped himself back to reality with an internal grimace - the dragon cannot lie with the lamb. The music had begun again, and you finally turned towards him, face blanching at his discovered proximity.

“Prince Aemond,” you started, eyes wide, muscles coiled – caught in the courtly snare.

The lamb is too stunned to curtsey, he mused, watching your quick fingers wringing the golden band on your thumb. You certainly were the most radiant of the sacrifices offered to him so far. Though, he parried, there would be little use in marrying a fool.

Aemond hummed, relishing in your panic for a few seconds longer than any decent gentleman would.

“I’m half-blind, not half-deaf,” he said lowly, taking a step closer. “One would do well to be wary of the court, my lady. You never know who might be listening.”

Your eyes narrowed imperceptibly – a flash of something Aemond didn’t quite recognise, gone as quickly as it appeared. Idiots have trouble accepting their transgressions, he supposed, but her polite smile had something hidden behind it, like the dark side of the moon. Deep within the tides of the fray, Alicent observed the scene with a ghost of a smile. She watched the girl hide fire and intelligence in her muscles like a coiled serpent, and bitterly wished that she had the same instinct as a girl. Perhaps then she could have avoided her fate of staring at ceilings and dancing with dragons.

Her prayer was silent as she observed you, implored with eyes instead of the tongue: Keep buying your time, sweet girl. Her second son was much too perceptive not to see through your mummer’s moronity eventually – she could already see Aemond’s eye probing your mask.

“Aemond,” the Queen beckoned with a regal nod of her head.

Time. She thought, noting the way your minds danced around each other, palpable. Love matches were rare, mind matches even more so – but she could see the way you looked at one another. Time and choice. She would gift you the mercy the gods denied her.

The prince pried his eye away from you with great effort, waiting for you to answer him. You remained silent, gaze unwavering.

Interesting. He conceded as he walked towards his mother. For a dolt.

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

Your eyes narrowed through the dim candlelight. The crowd ebbed and heaved like fresh seafoam, and you searched for your sister, your anchor in the waves, like the Oldtown lightower would a lost ship. In truth, you felt uneasy without Ely, your sworn shield against courtly attentions. It had been like this ever since you were children – a symbiotic relationship, the tide to your moon. She would sing and whirl through your father’s halls, a gossamer dervish, drawing the attention to herself and leaving you free to pursue your histories and hidden halls, and hone your sharp tongue.

You finally spotted the girl by a large table of ale, humouring a dark haired young lord who had not yet grown into his long limbs. You weaved your way through the crowd to reach her, forming a courtly, waxen smile to begin your manoeuvre.

“Sister!” You gasped, watching Elyana’s dark eyes twinkle as she recognised your ruse. “Mother requires you at once–” You cocked your head, silently wondering how every little lord fell for it. “Something about Ser Randyll?”

The little lord – Arryn, you’d wager by his gleaming brooch – blanched at the sight of your mother in deep conversation with Lord Reyne and his son. You stifled a laugh watching his chest puff up slightly at the challenge – your work was done. You pried your sister away from the little falcon’s talons, barely managing to stifle your laughing fit until he was out of earshot.

“Seven hells, Y/N, it took you long enough!” she huffed, preening over your shoulder to make sure that the young Lord Lannister hadn’t seen the exchange and think her spoken for. She had always been a romantic, excessively so, even for her six and ten years.

You pinched her dimpled cheek with a grin. “That’s for having far too much mirth in calling me a dolt earlier.”

Elyana rolled her eyes, batting your hand away. “It was your grand strategy, if I recall.”

“Yes, and I accounted for the pinch.” You said wickedly, before surveying the hall.

“A job well done I’d say, The Prince heard our performance. I even refused to curtsey. He’ll no doubt relay my idiocy to the Queen, and we’ll be home in no time at all.”

Elyana regarded you pensively, gently taking hold of your hand. Her gentleness felt like a cage to you, sometimes – perceptive, inescapable. “You know you will have to marry one day.”

Your sister watched your eyes flutter, soaking in your surroundings like a sponge. Your reply was barely audible over the internal hum of your own thoughts. “Not like this.”

You had decided that long ago. You knew you couldn’t escape a married fate – all women were cursed with the knowledge of how their lives would go from the moment they stepped into their first etiquette lesson with the septa. But, if you were to be married, it would be on your terms.

Impossible, father often branded you, but always with a fond smile. If you could not escape your fate, you would fiercely guard the little time you had with your freedom as the kingsguard would protect the king.

Though sometimes, when alone in the vespertine hush of your chambers, you could admit the presence of a longing in yourself, a desire to be seen for who you were by whoever you might be sold off to. Such longing is dangerous, you told yourself. Expect the swing of the sword, never mercy. Especially if you found yourself drawn to the wielder like a moth to flame – you were lucky to have honed your courtly mask so well upon seeing his handsome face. Though you had heard takes of the “one-eyed brute”, there was little account of the beautiful shadow his cheekbones cast, and his knowing, surveying gaze.

Your sister pulled you out of your thoughts, head nodding to a balcony alcove. She knew the price you paid for duty as the eldest. “Go. Take your refuge. I’ll be with mother.”

You offered her a tired, grateful smile before wading through the crowd towards your sanctuary, too close to paradise to be aware of the shark circling.

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

It wasn’t as though Aemond had been watching you. Mother had always taught him to be an attentive host - he was merely cultivating good will, bolstering support for the war to come. He watched you grab your third - no, fourth - glass of wine, an irritated huff escaping his nose. He supposed there was little use in lying to himself any longer - he felt pulled to you the same way he felt called to the skies. Perhaps this was the lust that seemed to drive Aegon to the depths of Fleabottom every night - maddening.

The more he watched you, the more his one good eye narrowed in bewilderment. Supposedly too dim to follow a septa’s simple instruction and notice the ears of court, yet cunning enough to weave your way through this nest of dancing vipers and their hungry sons. You could redirect the attention of a young lord with a single word, and charm your father with the raise of an eyebrow. You moulded the scenes that unfolded around you, parrying dance requests with a skill he’d only seen with Ser Cole and his morningstar.

So why the overt blundering before him? He leaned against the pillar, pensive. The only rational explanation he could fathom was that you had heard stories of him and thought to demean yourself as a marriage prospect. The prince scowled. Of course. What woman such as her would want a one-eyed beast as a husband? Aemond felt his insides twist and his fingers twitch, barely containing the ire towards himself.

Despite your repulsion of him, Aemond felt his curiosity turning ravenous in his stomach as he watched you approach your sister. He could not help but want to map you as The Conqueror once did his lands – even if you did not want him, he could watch your mind work from afar. So watch he did, as your sister held your hand in hers like water. He mapped it all to memory – your hushed words, the steely set of your eyes and jaw, your deceptive smile; a sliver of his favourite crescent moon.

The hour was late and the candles burnt low. Nobody would begrudge any of the young ladies for retiring for the night – the young Tyrell girl had already sunk so far into her cups that she had to be carried to her chambers like an overwatered rose. Yet there you slithered to the alcove, alone, alert with empty company and a full cup.

Aemond had begun to follow you long before his mind registered the movement of his legs. He followed your trail through the flurry of bright skirts, drunk on the hunt. His long legs strode with a purpose that was lost to his conscious mind, stopping when he reached the boundary of the lush, red drapery. Aemond stood outside of your sanctuary for a long while before breaching it, in an act that almost reminded him of protection. From what, he did not know. A mangled dragon guarding its hoard, he thought wryly, before stepping onto the balcony with the silence of a predator.

The prince wasn’t sure what he expected. A maiden in tears after being shunned at court, perhaps – he wasn’t sure how far you’d go to keep up the show. But there you were, in the furthest corner of the alcove, with your elbows on the dark stone and your eyes to the stars. He glanced at your now-empty cup before clearing his throat.

You sighed imperceptibly before turning to face him. So you knew I was here, then. The thought made him hide a smile - the idea of you sensing his presence and ignoring him anyway, even if you tried to hide that fact. Insolent. He thought. Magnificent.

You bowed this time, with a tired, chagrin smile - an apology for earlier. “Forgive me, my Prince. It has been a while since my sister and I have been in the capital. The intricacies of court politics appear to be lost on me.”

Aemond hummed, ignoring the way his innards clenched - my prince. He rather liked the sound of that. “Yet not so unhoned that you managed to avoid that Lannister whelp,” he paused, brow raised. It made him feel less shame to know he was not the only one you rebuked. “Not to mention that little Manderly lordling.”

The Prince enjoyed watching you war with yourself - needing to keep your shield up, yet too tired and full of ire to keep up the ruse for much longer.

“Evading them hardly requires a honed mind, my Prince.” You snorted. A clever answer. He thought. Too clever.

“Aemond.” He corrected. You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. “If I am to play along with your farce, let the rest of it be real.” He amended, making his way next to you but never prying his eye away.

You breathed a laugh, toying with your rings again. “You see more with one eye than most do with two, Aemond.”

The prince hummed. “It is of little consequence. They still brand me “one-eye” after all.”

“Little,” you snorted again, a glorious sound. Real, he thought, the soft skin of your hand calling him as your voice did. Real enough to touch. “Perhaps everything seems little to the rider of the largest dragon alive.”

The mention of Vhagar earnt you a small smile - a true one that you couldn’t quite look away from. Somehow you knew that it was Aemond’s version of a face-splitting grin.

You basked in comfortable silence for a while, noting how he had placed you on his right side – away from his eyepatch. The revelation made you frown, but left your vision unobstructed. It gave you a better look at the way his hair fell, an estuary of molten silver. You committed his profile to memory - the sharp edges that were strong, true, until he suddenly met your eyes. For once, you were speechless - the lush darkness of the night and the sweet smell of gardenias were suddenly oppressive.

“I really can’t dance, you know.” You blurted.

Aemond artfully raised an eyebrow in question.

“Earlier,” you clarified. “what you heard.” You tucked your hair behind your ear with what you hoped was a self-effacing smile. “I really am a terrible dancer, it was no lie.”

Aemond nodded grimly in understanding. “There is no need, my Lady, I understand your distaste for the match.” He stood taller, and tapped his eyepatch lightly.

Aemond watched ten emotions cross your face at once, until you settled on the one that most puzzled him; anger. Your eyebrows furrowed deliciously, something he noticed you did before you wielded your barbed tongue, and your lips parted. He did not see how your heart caught in your throat, nor the way your hands almost sprung to hold his shoulders. You slapped your palms onto the cold stone instead.

“Gods no. No, that is,” you breathed, warring with yourself before finally conceding. “It is not you, Aemond. Nor the sapphire eye that likely costs more than my entire dowry,” you jested half-heartedly.

You steeled yourself for honesty, looking into the sky once again and sneering in defiance at the gods who watched. “If I am to be sold off, I at least want to choose my buyer.”

Aemond’s gaze never left you, probing your truth as if he were caught in its net. He finally understood, and you knew he did. There was little that could be said, he thought.

Your eyes were almost crazed with a repressed frustration that was finally breaching the walls of your dutiful facade. A longing to be understood that matched his own. He saw fire – not that of ‘fire and blood’, but the fire of lightning. Beautiful, terrible, calculated in its strikes. Magnificent.

You trembled as if to cull the rage from erupting out of you. Years of playing placater, unable to unleash the true potential of your mind and spirit. Aemond’s eye flitted down to the stone, observing the shaking of your hands.

He did the only thing he knew how to and rested his hand gently over yours, the same way he would calm Vhagar. Real, he thought. Warm. Much too warm. You calmed under his touch. He understood, you know he did – years at court culling your own ambition at the expense of duty. Aemond created the “one-eyed brute”, just as you created the “little dolt of a lamb”.

You placed your hand over his. Horribly improper – it made you smile under the valleys of his scars and callouses. You wondered if you could map them in your mind as the maesters mapped the stars – a sky that was your own. Aemond felt your pulse thrum under his fingers and let it reverberate – his hands, his ears, his heart, his bones, it was all you. He knew you would have to leave soon enough, but for now, he would bask in you, knowing you’ve scorched him for life.

“Aemond,” You said, hushed. “How far can a dragon fly?” You looked up to meet his faraway gaze, relishing in catching him off guard. His lips were slightly parted as he stared at your own. It took every ounce of his steel restraint not to pull you to him and show you the meaning of fire and blood.

Instead, he hummed. “Vhagar has been known to make the trip from here to Dorne in a day, give or take - ”

He stilled at the interrupting shake of your head. If you had met his eyes, you would have noticed the questioning squint of his eye. Instead, your eyes were now trained above him, not wavering from the star-spittled sky.

“No,” you began, the gold of your necklace jingling as you craned your neck - as if the stars would be able to hear you better that way. “How high? Your maesters would not tell me.”

Aemond stared at you for a moment, finally following your gaze upwards with a slight smile. You asked the maesters. Of course you did. The thought of you badgering them in the palace library filled him with a disturbing level of fondness.

“Perhaps we could find out.”

Your head whipped towards him, eyes sparkling in the dark. “We?”

Aemond hummed again, this time in affirmation as he took your hand in silent question. “If I’m steering Vhagar, who will take note of the scientific observations? Maybe you are a dolt after all, my lady.” You squeezed his hand in your own, and your answering grin was like the sun. Magnificent.

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aemond targaryen x reader

these moments | john shelby

@ateliefloresdaprimavera wanted, and I quote: “happy,married to the love of his life John and [reader] who’s like a daughter to Polly”

hope you like it, hun!

You marched down the street, half angry, half exhausted. Groups of kids were running up and down and you cast an eye out to check whether any of yours were there. Men tipped their caps to you as you passed and you barged your shoulder into Polly’s front door, slamming it behind you.

“I got fucking fired, didn’t I?”

“Lovely to see you too, sweetheart. Sit yourself down. Kettle’s just boiled, you can explain yourself”

You huffed, yanking your scarf off and chucking it over the back of a chair.

“Thanks Pol. Where’s the kids?”

“John’s got them”

“John’s got them?”

Polly cast a look up to you as she brewed the pot and smirked when she saw your confused look.

“He was showing Katie her numbers and the rest wouldn’t let them be, you know what they’re like”

“Sorry, no, go back – John’s got the kids? By himself?”

She chuckled to herself and slid a cup over to you.

“Sit yourself down. And explain”

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john shelby x reader john shelby imagines

455 notes View Post

redfields-hotbabeineurope

5 years ago

Addicted to You

Part 1: The Chain

Summary/Author’s Note: As the sister of veteran turned freelance for hire Santiago “Pope” Garcia, you grew up close to his friends and ex-military squad. Frankie Morales always had your heart, in the same way you always had his–the two of you just never seemed to get the timing right. Trying to escape the violence of a military career based family, you turned to journalism and humanitarian work in war torn countries. But three days ago your crew was ambushed and after three days without any contact, Pope is getting the guys back together for a rescue mission. (Follows Canon events very closely with added character and liberties) Thank you to @winters-buck for headcanoning with me about Frankie and getting me pumped up enough to write this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Pope’s sister!Reader Word Count: 4.6k (idk what happened…) Warnings/rating: (NC-17)/18+ Language, smoking, implied drug use, PTSD, sex/smut, kidnapping, blood, violence, threats, fluff and feelings

MASTERLIST

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frankie morales x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

4 years ago

All That Matters

Rating: PG-13 (For language)

Summary: (Friends to lovers; Christmas fic!) It was obvious to everyone just how much you loved Frankie but the last thing you wanted to do was come on too strong and ruin one of the best friendships you’d ever had. So, you were content to keep him as a friend rather than risk losing him forever. Frankie takes it upon himself to make the first move.

Pairing: Frankie x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word Count: 6.7k (…whoops)

Santiago Garcia’s house, situated at the corner of two residential streets but closer to the city than any of the rest of your friends, had become the unofficial headquarters for all of your group activities. Movie nights, sporting event watch parties, weekend bonfires, holiday parties, birthdays, drinking in his backyard just because; the occasion really didn’t matter. It all saw you - along with the four men you now considered to be some of your closest friends and some odd combination of additional guests - scattered around the Garcia residence.

You liked to believe that it was because Santi was the unofficial social chair of your friend group. He often took it upon himself to plan get-togethers that dragged you all away from the hustle and bustle of your daily lives in order to spend a few moments together to unwind. Whatever the reason, you couldn’t say that you minded. The more often he hosted at his place, the less often you wound up at the same shitty dive bar or, worse, hosting at your own place.

Most weekends saw you at Santi’s, listening to to the guys recount the events of their weeks or reminisce about the past with a beer in hand and a smile on your lips. It was always nice, an easy way for you to unwind after a hectic week of work and responsibility, and the promise of those easy Saturday nights was often what got you through an especially tough work week.

The promise of getting to spend your nights curled up on the swing in Santiago’s backyard next to a certain pilot didn’t really hurt any, either.

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frankie morales x reader catfish x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

3 years ago

First Couple Days

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: slight season 4 spoilers but not plot points just eddie and kind of what his role is, making out, being aggressively in love with each other

Author’s Note: this is kinda shitty but i wanted to do something aimless to get a grasp on eddies character/dialogue! The next one will be better, i promise. I have a couple ideas for him and steve (and billy lets me honest here) but wanted to throw this out into the void first

Summary: you and eddie just started to date and are keeping it a secret

Genre: fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“This is you being not focused. This is actually like, the opposite of you being focused. Very unlike you,” Dustin said, waving his hand in front of Eddie’s face. He was staring forward, lips slightly opened. He cleared his throat, neck turning aggressively towards the smaller boy.

“I’m very focused.”

“You don’t look focused man,” Mike muttered, trying to look lowkey. “We have the campaign tonight. We need you at 100%.”

“You don’t need to tell me that Mikey. I am aware of the brain power it requires to beat you small children and company through till the end.”

“Well it isn’t the end yet,” Lucas said, looking up from his food.

They were sitting in the lunch hall, packed to the brim with people. Eddie tried to stare at his friends and listen to them. They were talking about the campaign that was going on tonight, the one that he had planned. It was a good one, they were all sure to enjoy it.

Yet at the same time his mind was elsewhere. He could see you sitting across the room, nose stuck in a book as you sat beside Nancy Wheeler. She was talking to you but you weren’t really listening. You had always had that relationship. He knew you had been friends for years, even when your personalities started to slightly drift apart.

Eddie and you had started to date secretly two days ago.

And he just couldn't bring himself to think seriously about anything except for you.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” Dustin asked. “You look ridiculous. Like your eyes are gonna pop right out of your head.” He made gestures with his hands and his eyes.

“How on Earth, you are going to survive tonight,” Eddie said offhandedly, a sly stupid smile on his face. You weren’t even paying attention to him? He was far away, sure, but you hadn’t even looked his way. Maybe he should stand on the table again.

“Fantastically. You’re no match for Mike and his spell casting abilities,” Dustin said proudly.

“Or Dustin's deception. We’re starting at 6 right?” Mike questioned.

“6:30. I have some…deals to make at 6. Open your ears small children, I already told you we were a bit later today.” Eddie snapped back into reality. He turned to Dustin, his tongue sticking through his teeth, eyebrows raised. “Understood?”

“Absolutely.”

“Max’s mom just wanted me to double check that Max was alright while she works double shifts,” you told Nancy as she drove you up between Max and Eddie’s place.

“Do you want me to stick around? I can drive you back. I told Jake to interview people at the game tonight.” “Nancy Wheeler taking a day off?”

“More like Nancy Wheeler needs to call her boyfriend,” she said, lips pursed. You laughed through your lips and shook your head.

“Have fun with Jonathan. I’m staying with Max for dinner then I’ll have her mom drop me off at home,” you explained, opening up the door. “Thank you.” You slid out of the car and then turned around. “When I said have fun with Jonathan I meant not too much fun. The government listens to our phone calls, you know.” She rolled her eyes.

“Get out.” You shut the door behind you, still smiling gently. She started to back away almost immediately. Nancy always had something she felt like she was running late for. You could always rely on her being the same in that regard.

You started to walk towards Max’s, listening to her car as you did so to try and gauge when she was turning around. The door to Eddie’s swang open.

“You’re late! I have a campaign at 6:30!” “Shushh!” You rushed up to him but you could feel yourself laughing. Eddie bowed dramatically, moving aside to let you come inside. “Nancy drives 10 under the speed limit when it isn’t life or death.”

“This is life or death.”

“Because…”

“Oh I didn’t have a reason. I just wanted to say that.” You looked around, tossing your bag on the couch.

“Did you clean in here?” He scratched the back of his neck.

“No?”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

“I am an amazing actor.”

“I didn’t say actor,” you said, turning around. You walked into his room and moved the sheets aside.

“What are you-”

“You cleaned the sheets?” You faced him, an incredible smile on your face. “Eddie?”

“I was doing a big load of laundry.” “What?!” You looked around dramatically. “Did you get a washing machine?”

“I went to the laundromat. It isn’t that big of a deal.” You giggled, sitting on the bed. You had come over a couple of times before and never actually said anything about the way Eddie lived. You had always had opinions but never voiced them. You didn’t think he had this much introspection in him.

“It’s a very big deal, Eds. It looks great here. Not that it didn’t look great before. I had become slightly attached to the shirts on the ground.”

“Oh good, they’re still around. I put them behind the couch.”

“Are you excited for your campaign?” You didn’t know much about D&D but you were learning. You wanted to be supportive if you were actually gonna give it a go with Eddie and you thought it was kinda cool.

“I am. I’ve got everything set up and ready to go for later. If I work it right and Dustin continues to roll shitty dice, it’ll be perfect. But this isn’t about that. This is about the fact you didn’t look at me once at lunch.” “Today? Lunch today?”

“Yes, lunch today. This is dramatic but I don’t care.”

“It is dramatic. I feel like I did look at you,” you said.

“You didn’t. I checked.”

“Were you starring?”

“Why are we hiding this thing again?”

“That’s avoiding my question.” “I’m serious though. Are we hiding it because it’s sexier? I think Dustin can take this information.” You were looking up at him. He was talking down to you on the edge of the bed and he had walked up closer. You hadn’t ever smiled as much as you did when you were with Eddie. Maybe it was because he was ridiculous.

“You’re the one who suggested we hid it for a few days. Just as we got used to each other.” “I don’t remember that.”

“Well I do.”

“I’m stupid. You should know that by now.” You grabbed his hand. Startled, he looked down at your touching skin like he wasn’t sure what the feeling would be like. He then looked into your eyes, eyes wide, a kind of goofy surprised look on his face.

“It is sexier when it’s a secret isn’t it.” He leaned down to kiss you without much warning, catching you off guard. He leaned over you onto the bed and you giggled against his lips. “You have to leave in like 15 minutes.”

“Long enough.”

“Oh?” You moved his face away from yours manually. “And when you’re late for the campaign and death occurs?”

“Stop trying to convince me out of something I desire so much.” You laughed and kissed him again, quicker that time.

“I thought we were having dinner and beer?”

“Only if you pay for the pizza.”

“Deadbeat.”

“Asshole.”

“You are kind of making me want to kiss you more actually.”

(im not tagging people because the season is still so new! dont wanna spoil anything even though there isn't any real spoilers here)

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eddie munson x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

4 years ago

Prospect - Fic Recommendations

Main Rec Masterlist

@the-blind-assassin-12

Point of no return -> The Aurelac rush is over, Cee and Ezra narrowly escaping being stranded on the toxic Green Moon with their lives. But they’re not out of the woods just yet. With no one else to turn to, Cee reaches out to the only person whose contact information Ezra has on him- Clara, the woman he walked away from five years earlier. With so much time gone by and so many old wounds what does Ezra’s sudden re-emergence in Clara’s life mean for either of them?

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Ezra (prospect) ezra x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

4 years ago

The Long Con Masterlist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Summary: He had given Marnie your name. That was going to be a problem for two reasons: 1. He had no idea if you would ever agree to go to a family wedding with him, let alone fly from D.C. to Texas for it 2. You were just someone he knew from work. Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Tags

marcus pike x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

2 years ago

Within Six Days - masterlist

Summary - You, the valedictorian to-be, and Eddie, the bimbo pothead, start studying together so he can graduate. In return, he shows you a more "wild" life.

Status- Completed

General Warnings - drinking under 21 and weed smoking, premarital kissing, let me know if i missed something major

AO3 Link

"Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?" The one where Ms. O'Donnell decides you and Eddie would be a good pair. 585 words

"O, I am Fortune's fool!" The one where you and Eddie study and he invites you to an unofficial Hellfire meeting. 4K words

"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night." The one where you and Eddie hang out after studying (AKA weed is smoked). 6.1K words

“Juliet is the sun." The one where Robin viciously makes fun of you and Eddie almost admits to having a crush on you. 798 words

“For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.” The one where you and Eddie go to a party together (AKA senior dorks drinking before the age of 21). 4.7K words

"Parting is such sweet sorrow.” The one where Eddie forgets about your play and Robin manipulates you into working. 4.6K words

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” The one where the school play finally takes place. Will Eddie be able to talk his way out of retaking his midterm so he can be there? 5.6K words

"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." [Epilogue] The one where you and Eddie graduate and you deliver your kickass valedictorian speech. 1.3K words

Tags

eddie munson x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

4 years ago

Rushingly Bittersweet, the series index

moodboard by me

Main Masterlist // Playlist for the main story // ao3

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count for the main story: +86.1k (so far)

The story:

Part 1: the meeting

Part 2: the struggle

Part 3: the warning

Part 4: the realization

Part 5: the raid

Part 6: the handbrush

Part 7: the question

Part 8: the kiss

Part 9: the rush

Part 10: the trip

Part 11: the dayoff

Part 12: the union

Part 13: the backstory

Part 14: the shitshow

Part 15: the finding

Part 16: the reality

Part 17: the rescue

Part 18: the recognition

Part 19: the confession

Part 20: the truth

Part 21: the decision

Part 22: the aftershock

Part 23: the letter

Part 24

Part 25

After RushBit: (Coming soon…)

Past Grievances and Turning Points

Clashing Times

Unexpected Meal

Awkward Encounters

Tertulia Familiar

The One you Call Home

Moonlit Room

Formalities and Introductions

Part 25 goes here in the timeline.

Breakfast for two

Mamá’s inheritance

Rubbing Noses

Chocolate y Nuez

Children’s Game:

Summary: Javi and you go to the county fair… that’s basically it. (1.9k words)

Bull’s eye!

The Little Goddess of Love

…

Extras:

Javier’s views of the War on Drugs, as a mexican-american.

Javier in the aftermath of his first kill on the job.

The Letter; from part 23.

Tags

javier pena x reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

3 years ago

Can we pls hear more about Loki with a Stark reader? Maybe an imagine? 👀 (please)

Thor shut the door behind himself, averting his eyes when he noticed you and Loki curled up together on the couch. Loki was whispering something in your ear, and Thor felt himself blush, the action chaste and innocent but entirely too intimate. It set his teeth on edge: the knowledge that Loki was once again getting away with a kind of murder.

“Oh, please don’t stop on my account,” Thor sneered, rolling his eyes when he saw you attempt to slide out of Loki’s lap. Loki’s grip on you only tightened.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Loki grumbled, nipped at the exposed skin on your neck. You giggled, but slapped his hand away when it grabbed at your breast.

“Loki, quit it,” you smirked, but made no attempt to block his other hand as it slid up your shirt. “Hey, Thor, is my dad still with Steve and Clint on that mission?”

Thor shook his head, pouring a glass of orange juice. “No, he’s been back for about an hour.”

You swore under your breath, fingers tangling in Loki’s hair and giving it a sharp tug when he started kissing along your collarbone. “Loki, I have to go, he’s probably looking for me--”

Loki growled, shifting you in his lap so you were straddling him now, his brother’s interruption doing little to stop the hardening cock between his legs. “Thor will cover for you, I’m not finished with you yet.”

You grinned, leaning in and kissing the frown off his lips, slowly licking into his mouth as his hands moved down to rest on your ass. You moaned softly, but broke away before he could move it any further. “I’ll come back tonight, okay?”

“No, no, no,” Thor interrupted, slamming his empty glass down on the counter. “I don’t want to be apart of this anymore. If Stark finds out I even knew about this as it is, he will find a way to murder me. You can’t meet here anymore.”

Loki glared over at his brother. Before he could snap at him, you nodded and wrapped your arms around Loki’s neck, giving him one last quick kiss before you stood up. “He’s right, we’ll meet somewhere else. Somewhere... private.”

Loki licked his lips, raising an eyebrow. “The lab?” He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as he followed you to the door.

You smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. “You want to get caught, don’t you?”

A smack to your ass and you were out the door, fixing your hair and making your way to the team’s main kitchen the long way, thinking up a reason for where you’d been for the last hour on the way.

Tags

loki x reader loki x stark!reader

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redfields-hotbabeineurope

4 years ago

Peaky Blinders - Fic Recommendations

Main Rec Masterlist

@chellestrash

Mixed Signals -> you finally move out of your parents house to live and study in London with your older brother Michael, your cousins and friends. You don’t know anyone in the city, besides them, and frankly, you don’t feel the need to get to know anyone new…well maybe except that one guy with a dog who you saw at a party that you didn’t want to go to. (Alfie Solomons)

@sceawere -> Masterlist

School Days -> prequel to These Moments

Three Rings -> links to These moments and Schooldays.

These Moments -> happy married to the love of his life John and [reader] who’s like a daughter to Polly

@collecting-stories

My Son -> the reader and John are having their first child

@shelbybroslmtd

Tyrant: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 -> An Arranged marriage between reader and Tommy (post grace)

Tags

alfie solomons tommy shelby x reader john shelby x reader

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