#AND I WANNA MAKE IT CLEAR BEFORE SOMEONE TRIES TO TWIST THIS UP | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

etfrin · 11 months ago

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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ worries — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, creampie, cum eating, blowjob, orgasm control, overstimulation, loss of virginity (m.), handjob, mutual masterbation (each other) if you squint, riding, spit play, breath play, reader has fem! anatomy, mentions of blood & blood sucking (from a lip bite)| lmk if I forgot anything

☆　Pairing: afab/gn! soft dom(-ish)! Reader x sub(-ish)! virgin! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: uhm, you take Snows' virginity <3

☆　A/N: first time writing gn reader, please be respectful and tell me if anything's wrong, but don't be mean about it and i finally wrote reader spitting in Coryos' mouth and it should be a regular thing, look AT him ugh, a meal fr, wanna eat him, suck off all of his cu- i should stop...

Ps. The one who requested this to be gn, i hope you like this and i did it justice, if there's anything wrong (like accidentally refering to the reader as fem) then please let me knw :)

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“You've never done this before?” You questioned as you entered his room. All cold and dusty stone with a bed on the corner. The bed in which you plan to do unspeakable things with him.

“No, he said, “Will that be a-” You shake your head as you see his wide blue eyes waiting for rejection. He hated that he brought you here. He hated that you saw him. Him. Not Coriolanus Snow from the academy but Coryo who tries and tries but gets fucked over anyway.

After finding out that the District 12 girl was his, he wanted to protest, he was being set up to fail. You saw him for he is, his mind filled with worries, endless thoughts running around making him unable to breathe. He felt invalid and he needed you to do something about it.

And as you notice him among the crowd, seduce him with your eyes and whisper your desires to him. He brings you to the penthouse, trying to control the urge to apologize as you have to walk 12 cases of stairs.

You knew his secret like the dean did but you didn't do anything about it except for the meals and clothes sent to him anonymously during the coldest nights of Panem but he didn't know that.

You walked towards him, pinning him to the door of his room with a gentle thud. “You don't have to worry about anything, princess,” you whispered to him, your eyes filled with lust and your lips twisted in a teasing smile. You run your finger over his sharp jaw, taking joy when a soft gasp comes from him. His breathing is getting faster and the blood rushing from his cock and his head turning empty from your simple touch.

You were going to have some fun with this boy. You're going to make him yours. Make him forget and help him through everything as his now serrah. Even if it means rigging the games so he would win. It's your job to care for him now and you're a perfectionist.

The first task, let the wide-eyed man feel pleasure in someone's touch for the first time. You tsk in dissatisfaction as your fingers feel his bony chest. He needs to eat, he needs to be pampered. ‘I'll have to fix that’, you thought as you pressed your lips on his collarbone. He lets out a breath, his body heating up from the kisses you plant on his chest. Your tongue teasing his nipple causes him to whimper and you earn a broken moan when your teeth decide to nip the bud.

You suck his nipple, savoring the gasp he makes and how his fingers wove into your hair. “Please. Please more,” he groans and who are you to deny him? You couldn't say no to his pretty face even if you didn't want to. So you get down on your knees, pushing your face into his crotch and you swear you could smell the heady scent of his pre-cum soaking through his trousers. You moan, deciding to tease him as you use your teeth to pull down his zipper. You'll never know the will it took for Coriolanus not to cum right then and there.

You take down his trousers, the line of his hard cock clear in his boxes, a wet spot of his pre-cum formed where the tip is. You decided not to tease him words but with actions, your tongue licks the wetness, letting your saliva sweep into the fabric along with his salty pre. He groans above you, a thud echoing into this room as the back of his head hits the door.

You set his cock free from its confines, your mouth watering as you look at the pink tip forming a bead of pearly white pre-cum. The tip of your tongue catches it and the pleasure (or torture) of Coriolanus Snow begins.

You start simply, teasingly as your lips trail sloppy wet kisses all over his length. Your tongue traces along the pretty veins of his cock, your lips reaching his base and mouthing his cock causing him to let out a needy whine and a plea of more, more and more. You repeat the process until you catch his cockhead inside of the carven of your warm, wet mouth. Another broken groan leaves his mouth as he sees your lips stretch around his mushroom tip.

The fingers of his curled in your hair tightens and as a warning you make your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs causing him to his and immediately loosen his grip on you. An apology falls from his lips, his eyes glossing over as he feels his dick getting wet. Your mouth begins to suck his tip. Your tongue savors the bitterness of him as you swirl your tongue around his slit, lapping up as much as possible.

Meanwhile, Snow was biting his lower lip as hard as possible, the blood pooling in his mouth as he tried to keep much of his sound quiet for the sake of others who might be home. His mind was blank, all he could think was how pretty you looked on your knees like this, how you took control despite the one kneeling. You didn't even take all of him, sucking his cockhead diligently but the rest of his cock was left out. He was glad that did so because he knew he couldn't take the hot, wet mouth of yours all over his cock without cumming on the spot.

He could feel himself venture too close to spilling inside of your mouth, he let his free hand venture down to the path and he gripped the base of his cock trying to ruin his upending orgasm.

You take your mouth off him, making him let out a desperate whimper as he feels his dick out of your warm carven. You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling utterly amused by how adorable he is. You kiss his tip. “Trying to last longer, baby?” You questioned with a teasing tilt in your voice.

��I don't want to” Snow can't admit the fact he doesn't want to cum so soon, it's embarrassing so he says it in different terms, “I want this to last.” His eyes were now fully blown with lust, his curls clinging to his forehead and his cheeks painted red with pleasure.

“Hmm,” you hum, standing up trying to ignore the slight ache of your knees. You take his hand, guiding the boy to bed before pushing him on the mattress. You straddle him, his shirt was long forgotten on the floor along with the rest of his clothes. It was your turn now and you quickly did the same. Coryo lets out a needy soft noise as your skin is exposed to his eyes, his fingers skimming along the curves of your body. “Can I?” He asked, his eyes begging for your agreement.

“Yes, Coryo. You can,” you permit him and you nearly let out a wanton moan as the heat of his fingertips sweeps into your skin, warming you up as his hands experimentally begin to knead your breasts. His fingers squeeze your nipples making you softly moan near his ear. “That's it, baby. Make me feel good.” You whispered to him, “A bit rougher- ah- ah- there you go. That's a good boy.”

His hips jolt forward when you praise him and a whine escapes from the back of his throat. “Please,” he lets out, “Let me feel you. I will be good, I promise.” You gaze wonders at his angry red tip and you decide not to play with him any further for the moment. You kiss his forehead for a moment of vulnerability in all of this tension. “Okay, my prince,” you whispered as you kissed his lips next, letting your tongues meet in a rather filthy and sloppy kiss as you let him guide you to your back on the mattress.

His hand traces down and gets a hold of your hips, his fingers squeezing the flesh a tad too hard but it felt so good and the fact he would leave marks didn't bother you. Your fingers wove into his blonde strands, bringing him down to catch his lips in an open mouth kiss. As your other hand is on his shoulder, his body pressed onto yours and you moan into his mouth as you feel his comforting weight on top of you. His dick twitched against your thigh, leaking pre-cum onto your skin.

You take in his bleeding bottom lip in your mouth and suck on it, enjoying the tang of the metallic taste on his tongue as he clumsily begins to press his cockhead into your soaking cunt. You were so focused on Coriolanus that you had forgotten about your aching cunt begging to be stretched with his cock.

If it hadn't felt so good when his cock slid right in because of how wet you were, you would have been embarrassed. You bite into his lower lip, trying to adjust to the burn of being stretched by his thick cock. If you weren't so impatient, you would have taught Coryo how to prep you first but that's for another day.

Coryo feels your teeth sinking into his bottom lip and a wanton, surprised moan leaves his mouth, his balls emptying and thick spurts of his cum flood into your pussy. You cry out as you feel his cock cumming against your pulsating walls. He buried his head onto your shoulder as he gasped his apology. As much as frustration filled your mind, you knew that you had to be gentle with your plaything.

You run your fingers through his hair, comforting him. “It's fine,” you whispered, your lips placing soft kisses on his shoulder. “But I don't want it to be over,” he admitted, shyness and desperation filling in his tone. “It doesn't have to be,” you replied as you squeeze your walls around his softening cock. A wicked smile plays on your lips, as you whisper, “It isn't over until I say so.”

He nods, willing to agree with whatever you say. You pushed him off you, getting yourself on top of him as his soft cock fully slips out of your pussy, leaving the entrance pushing out of his cum. Your fingers gather his seed and you pop your digits into your mouth, your tongue lapping up his taste off your fingertips. His dick twitches from the sight, coming back to life as Coryo lets out a whine while he looks at you sucking your fingers so good with your mouth hollow.

You take his length in your hand, fingers surrounding the girth in a perfect fist. He hissed when you squeezed and began to stroke him slowly. Trying your best not to overwhelm him and failing miserably because tears were pooling in his eyes, his lips were parted to leave wounded, pretty sounds. His fingers curled on the bed sheets as you stroke his cock back to life.

You lean to press another kiss to the tip, your eyes peering at his teary ones. “You sure?” You asked, you had to pat his cheek for an answer because all that left his mouth as you questioned was a whimper.

“Do you want to continue, Coryo?” You asked, in the softest tone possible. Your mind is ready to cuddle him for aftercare and draw a shower. But instead, he shakes his head, “Don't please- I need this.”

“Okay, I won't,” you whispered back, your lips pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, and then let the kisses trail until you reach his neck where his pulse is. Your mouth begins to suck as you continue to stroke his length, your fist now covered with his drooling pre-cum, a bit more watery than before.

Your free hand goes to your cunt, your fingers rubbing your clit to feel some relief from your aching pussy. Coriolanus notices that and can't help but feel bad. His fingers wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements, a silent question in his eyes and you removed your hand in answer.

A giddiness could be seen in Coryos as he explores your cunt for the first time. You get into a position where it is easier for you both to play with each other. He spreads your pussy lips, his eyes taking in your glistening cunt (with your juices and his cum). He swipes at your folds, gathering the wetness all over his digits, and you encourage him to take the digits in his mouth, and of course, he agrees.

He will do anything to get his head empty and his body to be jelly. So he takes his fingers in his mouth, letting his tongue lick every remnant of your juices and his bitter cum. He groans, his eyes getting cross stared and his cock begins to throb dangerously in your end. He was close to the edge again by such a simple thing.

‘Cute’ you thought, but you don't want him to cum again without getting something in return. So you stopped the strokes, ignoring his confusion, and pleas for more. Instead, you guide yourself on his cock again, your eyes flashing to him with a warning that despite the gentleness you had shown, you could be cruel too.

Yet when you sink on his cock, you make sure to hold his hand, fingers intertwined for comfort. You murmur endless praises to him.

“That's a good boy.” “Look at you filling me up so well.” “Ah- fuck, baby. Your cock is stretching me out perfectly.”

Each praise made his cock throb against your pulsating walls. This time he didn't cum immediately, but the jolt of electricity that went through his veins when both of your pelvis bones were touching, now joined to the hilt felt like he did. You take the hand you were holding and kiss the inside of your wrist with butterfly kisses.

These simple actions of yours were overwhelming to him. No one had cared for him so delicately like he was glass. It meant everything to him and a rush of emotions caused tears to begin to flow from his eyes.

You chalked his crying to overstimulation and leaned forward to kiss his eyelids. “It's okay,” you whispered against his ear, “It's okay, Coryo.” You let out a soft moan as you begin to move your hips. Slow and shallow thrusts. You hear him groan too, his hand squeezing yours. His free hand on your ass, groping the flesh.

“That's a good boy,” you whispered when you began to speed up your rocking hips making Coriolanus gasp. “You're doing so well, my dear,” you praised him. You moan as your hips find the perfect angle to hit the spongy spot in your gummy walls.

You begin to ride Coryo in earnest. His cock stroked the deepest part of your slick walls with each thrust. It makes you see stars with each breath you take. It was perfect and you made sure that Snow knew that with your hushed praises. Meanwhile, Coriolanus wasn't better off either with molten lava in his body, his mind now blank with how good getting dick wet felt.

He never understood the hype about sex but now he was addicted. He was sure he was going to need you like air, like a puppy going for a pet to its owner for comfort. He was going to need you after this, again and again.

He was close, wanting to cum again, he could feel how wet your walls were and wondered if it was your juices or his own that contributed to it the most. He was close so he voiced that. “I am-” he closed his eyes, feeling the burn of embarrassment, “Close.”

You hum in response, stopping your movements to catch a much-needed breath. “You're not allowed to cum until I say so, pretty boy,” you said with authority, “I let it go the first time, now I expect you to behave.” You add, “You'll cum with my permission or else. . .” You smirk, “You're a smart boy, Coryo. You wouldn't like punishment, would you?”

Coriolanus shakes his head, he sniffs and you find it adorable how his nose scrunches up that it makes you smile at him. “I will be good, I promise,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please.”

You give him a nod. You leaned down to kiss his lips, both of your tongues tangling together into something soft. Your hand leaves the grip it had on his hand to wrap itself around his neck. He moans inside your mouth as you put a bit of pressure onto his neck, not restricting his breathing but certainly making him light-headed. It worked as a good distraction.

Your free hand goes between your bodies and you find your clit. Your fingers begin to play with the bud. Small circles send jolts of pleasure to your core, making your cunt tighten around his dick. It made his hip snap back into yours, a deep groan resounding in the room as his hips began to thrust into you. Just small movements of sheer desperation of wanting to cum.

You were feeling the same, desperation clawing your body as the tension keeps building and building each time his cockhead grazes your g-spot. You were so close and everything turned sloppy.

Two animals in heat it seemed with how the two of you were acting. Your fingers pinch your clit as you begin to rock on his cock faster than ever, deep groans leaving Coryo's lips and his hands holding onto your hips to ground him as he takes whatever you give.

He was pussy drunk, his eyes glazed over and mouth drooling on the corners. You were pathetic enough to lick the saliva, holding his jaw open as you gathered your spit inside your mouth and then you let the goop of drool fall onto his tongue.

You thought for a moment this would snap him out from his fucked out glaze, except he swallowed it without a word, his hips stuttering in the pace and he mutters, his lips glistening, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” And god, that ruined you.

Your cunt begins to spasm around his cock, flexing walls around his length causing him to cry out for permission to let go and you yell out a yes. Liquidy spurts of cum begin to shoot out of his tip and inside your womb. Both of you let out a moan as the thrusts begin to slow down and cease.

As soon as you catch your breath and your body feels solidified, you caress his cheek. “Would you like to cuddle, baby?”

The answer to that was a breathless yes.

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peachysunrize · 1 month ago

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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! A bit of angst, mentions of Aemond’s eye pain, flufffff✨

Word count: 5.6k+

A/n: soooooooo what do we think??👀 shit’s bout to hit the faaaan🙂‍↕️🤭 reblogs and comments are so appreciated!💕🥹 also a special thank you to @namelesslosers & @catinapottedplant for beta-ing this for me<3333

Taglist: it’s closed<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 7: country club

“It feels like we’re on a secret mission,” you say as you walk hand in hand upstairs towards Alicent’s study with Helaena.

“You know she only allowed me once in this room? The boys aren’t allowed even near the stairs,” she scoffs and you nod at her, knowing how Aegon would probably turn into a kid all over when he steps into a new area. “But to let you inside this room… she either wants to fuck you over for shagging her son or something serious is happening.”

“Alicent fucking me over isn’t serious in your humble opinion?” you ask her, shaking your head when she grins at you. “You’re exactly like Aegon, carbon copy.”

“How dare you?” she gasps, leading you to the end of the hallway. “Aegon is a whore, a lovely one, but still a whore.”

“I didn’t mean that you are one too, what do you take me for?” You nudge her with your elbows, giggling as you walk closer to the door at the end of the path. “I mean you guys are just chaotic! Both of you think your Mum is too dangerous and at the same time she’s a saint.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll back you up in there if she brings up Grandpa and how he says a new relationship is bad for Aemond.” She pats your head and you gawk at her.

“Bitch, you better,” you slap her hand away playfully. “You set us up, I’m gonna snitch on you if your Mum says anything about this. Also… why is it a bad thing for Aemond to move on?”

“That’s… we’ll talk about it later, yeah?” she says awkwardly, knocking on her mother’s study door before she pushes it open, “Oh! Well… morning, Mum.”

“Hi, hey!” Alicent clears her throat as she tries to appear busy with a line on her wooden desk while Criston turns his back to her and looks out of the window, both of them flushed and blushing. “Morning, girls!”

“Hi, Ali,” you look between the couple, watching with amusement as Helaena tries to stifle her giggles and Alicent is nearly fainting with how red and ashamed she looks. “How are you doing on this fine morning?”

“Amazing!” She claps her hands, and sits down on the chair and points at the loveseats in front of her desk. “As you know Aemond’s birthday is in a few days, three to be exact, and I thought we should do something special for him. I mean, as special as he lets us…”

“I don’t remember if I’ve ever been to one of his birthdays,” you shrug. “So, what is the plan?”

“You know we already have our wine selection, we even told him that it will be for his birthday. But… I was thinking about hosting this party in the Targaryen country club.”

“Wow—“

“Are you serious, Mum? Like actually fucking serious?” Helaena cuts you off, her blonde brows twisting in a deep frown. “You’re joking.”

“Hel—“

“No, you know how he feels about them! You know this and you wanna torture him!”

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, trying to intervene in the situation before Helaena says something she might regret later. “Is there going to be someone other than us?”

“Listen to me, my loves,” she sighs and looks at Criston pleadingly before she averts her Bambi eyes to you, “my family is rich enough to buy thousands of these clubs, but during my divorce with Viserys… his one and only condition was that we couldn’t have access to the club without telling him or Rhaenyra first.”

“Basically, she has to invite them all because of a stupid fucking belief when she knows how much pain they have caused Aemond!”

“Helaena.” Alicent’s voice echoes in the room, and for the first time you see how your best friend shrinks from her mother’s gaze. “Darling girl, I will only tell them about a gathering, nothing more or less.”

“Why do you wish to throw this party there?” You reach to hold Helaena’s hand and she squeezes yours in gratitude, helping her calm down a little bit. “I mean we can do this somewhere else! Maybe a party on your family yacht!”

“Because Aemond is a man of history, and that club has been passed on from generation to generation. It holds kind of a legacy for Targaryens. And knowing Aemond and where he decided to get married, I think he will love it.”

“Yeah, he will if the person who cut his eye out doesn’t show up,” Helaena sighs, rubbing her forehead, “Listen, Mum, I love you and I really respect you but… come on, Aemond will not like it if Rhaenyra shows up, nor will any of us! I don’t think he wants to see eye to eye with Viserys after how his wedding turned into shambles.”

“I’m not inviting them, I’ll just text your father’s assistant to tell him we’ll be there. I doubt he wants to join us anyway…” Alicent rests her forehead on her hands, and in an instant, Criston stands next to her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “Thank you.”

“Does this party have a theme or a dress code?” you ask, leaning back on the seat, trying your best not to show your excitement for your boyfriend’s birthday party.

“It will be a formal gathering, a cocktail party of sorts. Luxurious, comfortable, and a bit of a show-off because my father will join us and he is all about image and reputation, so there will definitely be a few photographers. Oh, and my brother will join us as well!”

“Finally meeting this ultra-rich Uncle Gwayne,” you chuckle, nodding at Alicent. “I hope gifts are allowed.”

“Aemond hates gifts—“

“Let her buy something for him, maybe someone out of the family will change his mind, yeah?” Helaena comes to your rescue, winking at you and squeezing your hand, “Besides, Uncle is going to give him something mind-blowing anyway.”

“Alright, but you will handle his attitude yourself,” she points at you, glancing at Criston, who is silently listening to the conversation. “So, the country club, Rose wine, formal clothes, one single gift from you, and a good few days spent together.”

“I’ve never been to a country club!” you acknowledge, already excited for the next few days you will be spending with the Targaryens. “What should I even pack?”

“Can I pack your clothes? Please? Pretty please?” Helaena begs you, pulling you up on your feet quickly before you both wave goodbye and leave Alicent’s study. “You're gonna be so surprised to see what I have bought you now!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.” You both laugh quietly as you walk past Daeron’s room. “Alright, you can pack my bags. But I’m just gonna—“

“Go, go! Go check up on your man, babe.” She kisses your cheek before she departs from you, skipping toward her room to grab a few things to bring for you.

With a soft sigh, you walk downstairs, moving through the endless hallways of the mansion, and finally reaching Aemond’s room. Knocking on his door gently, you wait for a response, but then you only hear a groan in what you can only assume is pain.

“Little Nerd?” You slowly push the door open, finding Aemond curled up on his side, clutching his duvet hard in his fists. “Baby, are you alright?”

You approach him, padding towards his bed as he trembles slightly, his breaths coming out quickly and unevenly, and with worry, you crawl on his bed behind him, gently brushing his long hair off the spare pillow to rest your elbow on it.

“Hey…” you lean over his face; he is flushed, his good eye is closed and the other is an empty socket. You brush his hair out of his face, caressing his head as gently as you can.

“Darling?” he calls for you, his voice fragile and quivering. You press a kiss on his clammy forehead, rubbing his arm to soothe him a little, finally understanding what he must be dealing with.

“How bad is the pain?” You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub his arm, reaching to caress his fist gently, trying to open his fingers without bothering him. “What can I do for you?”

“Just… just leave,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but let me help you, yeah?” you try to convince him, snaking your arm behind his neck, gently rolling him over so there is no weight on his damaged eye. “Come on.”

“I always do it alone, I think I can cope—“

“I know you do, and I’m proud of you for that,” you cut him off before his pain turns into anger, “but you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“I-I forgot to put my eyepatch on—“ He tries to sit up and move away from you but you wrap your other arm around his middle and keep him on the bed. He can easily push you away, but when he doesn’t, you sigh in relief and pull him down so his back rests on your chest, his head tucked in your shoulder.

“Alys… she used to give me head massages,” he whispers, closing his good eye as he slowly lets his body relax in your arms, the pain of his eye still lingering in the empty socket. “Probably the only thing she did without demanding anything in return.”

“Would you like me to do the same?” you ask, pulling the duvet on top of you, cradling his head in your arms. “Or, I can apply some of the creams you have put there.”

“My head is killing me,” he groans again, turning in your arms to lay his head on your chest, and you tuck him under your chin, holding him close as he grabs your waist. “I forgot to take my meds last night…”

“Oh no.” You squeeze him in your embrace, pouting a little as he battles with the agony. “Tell me how I can help you, maybe I can do something to ease your pain.”

“You can’t do anything,” he sighs and looks up at you, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just stay here, the pills will kick in in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you rest your hand on top of his, bringing his palm to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at him softly, “Do you wanna talk about something?”

“Yeah, what should we talk about?” He rests his head back on your chest, closing his eye as he listens to your breathing.

“Hmm, maybe your birthday?”

“Not a fucking chance—“

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bummer! You're gonna be twenty-six in a few days! That’s exciting,” you chuckle as he groans and hides his face in your dress, smothering himself between your boobs, “and get your face off of my chest. I know your game, Targaryen.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” he groans, wrapping his arm around you to hold on to you tightly as a new wave of pain rushes through his nerves. “Fuck—I wish I could die.”

“Hey, look at me,” you look at him seriously, craning his neck to force him to look at you, “I know the pain is bad, my darling, I know… but you will get through it, you have done it before, you will do it again. Don’t you dare say you wish to— fuck I will never forgive you if you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, his grip tightening on you as you lean down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be.” You prep his cheek with kitten kisses. “As long as you have me, I won’t let anything happen to you. Also!”

“No, please—“

“We should pack your clothes! Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun giving you all of my attention on your birthday!” You squeal when he flips you both over, covering the empty socket of his eye before he leans down to kiss you.

Your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately, yearning for more, but you know Aemond is not in the right place to give in to your urges. Instead, you reach to remove his hand from his face after breaking the kiss.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby.” You kiss him this time, letting him slowly relax and get comfortable. He kisses you back, and finally, his pain subsides.

“This is— wow!”

You look around as Aemond drives through the gates of the country club, his free hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. It is a shock that he decided to drive at nighttime, as he mostly lets someone else do the driving at such an hour, but you can sense his nervousness grow with each passing second.

“I know, it’s fucking huge,” he mumbles, rounding the steering wheel as he drives to the parking, stopping the car in front of the doorman. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mr. Targaryen.” The man nods at Aemond and you, opening the door for him before he is handed the keys to the car.

You watch Aemond walk towards you, opening the door for you before he realizes his mother is right behind his car, stepping out of the SUV with Cole’s help. You pat his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before putting some distance between the two of you, waiting for others to join you and him.

“It’s gorgeous,” you exclaim, looking at the entrance of the building; just as Aemond said, the building itself is huge, but the area leading to it is just as beautiful and wide. You loop hands with Helaena as the group walks upstairs towards the door. “How come we have never come here?”

“Well… Viserys comes here nearly every week. I think Mum didn’t wanna see him at all,” she shrugs. “Anyway, his first wife was obsessed with this place. Not gonna lie, there is a huge portrait of her somewhere in the dining hall… used to make Mum so sad when she caught him staring at her more than glancing at her.”

“Wow, what a piece of shit.” You grimace, giving her an apologetic smile. ��Sorry, babe, he’s just… an ass.”

“Don’t worry, no one hates him more than your boyfriend,” she whispers, and you let out a sad chuckle, knowing how much damage he has done to Aemond.

“I might though,” you squeeze her arms, watching as some people open the door for you. “I wanna curse him for hurting my best friend and my man.”

“Oooh, since when?”

“Since the day we fucked—“

“Forget I fucking asked.” She slaps your shoulder playfully, dragging you inside the building. “Welcome to the Targaryen country club!”

“It’s a shame how I’ve never been here,” Helaena rolls her eyes, “but thank you. This is more than I can ever dream of.”

“Alright, we’ve got two days before Aemond’s birthday! Sleep well tonight, and tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here,” Alicent says and kisses all of you goodnight, and Criston follows her towards the room.

“So, lovers,” Aegon starts, wrapping an arm around Aemond’s shoulders even though he has a hard time reaching his height, “you gonna share a room orrrr—“

“I’m gonna show her around,” Aemond extends his hand for you to take, and you let go of Helaena to reach for him, letting him pull you in his arms as he shrugs Aegon off of him, “and you better shut your mouth about this.”

“I saw nothing,” Aegon throws his hands up, looking at Daeron and Hel, who just nod and shoo you away. “Have fun!”

“They are annoying,” he sighs as he pulls you away from them, walking through the large room with portraits hanging off the wall, leading you to the door which opens to the paths ending with tennis courts, a large swimming pool and a lake nearby.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “Are you excited for your chic birthday?”

“Hmmm.” He rests his chin on top of your head as you both walk between the tennis courts. “Not really, at least I have you here. That’s something I look forward to.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reach a path that’s decorated with willow and other trees, leading to a large golf area. “I like it when I’m with you, I feel… I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Aemond chuckles, kissing the crown of your head, “but I feel the same. There are moments I think I am a better person when I’m around you; less stoic, less uptight.”

“Nope nope, it’s my turn to tell you about how I feel.” You pull away from his embrace, grabbing his hand to step off of the path and walk between the trees. “I’ve never been in a relationship that allows me to be free this much. There’s always been a leash on me and my interests, and to be fair, I’ve never dated someone younger than me.”

“Why the sudden doubt in our age gap?” Aemond asks, a shuddering smile on his face. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” You turn around immediately to look at him, sighing before reaching to cup his face. “No, no, of course not! It’s actually something that crossed my mind a second ago. Two years is nothing, especially when I feel so safe and appreciated when I’m by your side.”

“I just— it’s difficult,” he sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “For me, not-not you. I… I think about how things would have turned out if I was never dumped. I’d never find something more than a friend in you.”

“It’s difficult for me, too.” You caress his cheeks. “This feeling… isn’t meant to be easy. It feels right, I mean what we have is right, despite the odds. You’re fresh out of a relationship that lasted so long, and I’ve been your sister’s friend for so long. It’s kind of sad that if your ex didn’t run away, I wouldn’t be able to even kiss you. That makes me so fucking emotional.”

“Yeah, the heartbreak is still there inside me, somewhere I can’t really reach but I feel it somewhere, more than I’d like to admit. Not because I think about Alys, no, but… did I really deserve that? I absolutely adore you, I can’t put it into words, but I’m lucky to find something—someone worth risking my life for.”

“You don’t know it yet, but you have a tendency to make me melt with your words. It’s annoying, really, how impactful you are.” You make him chuckle, and he dips his head down to kiss you quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are your Mum and Grandpa against our relationship?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his grip tightening on your hips, “I know Mum loves you, and she’ll approve. No doubt about her, but Otto… well… he cares about our reputation so much. After the wedding, he’s been reaching out to us nonstop. He wants to make sure the world, or specifically, Rhaenyra and Viserys, know that we are in good shape. Me getting into a public relationship is just… so soon.”

“I understand… okay, so you don’t wanna tell others just yet, right?” You lean back on one of the trees, wrapping your arms around Aemond’s neck. “I was curious, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—“

“Hey, no, absolutely not.” He steals a quick kiss from you, caging you with one hand on the tree and the other on your waist. “I’m glad you asked me. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you hidden from everyone. I’m proud to be with you, and I would show you off to the world the moment I could.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “I wanted to also let you know that your father and sister might join us here.”

You see how he visibly tenses, jaw clenching as he thinks about the last time he saw them — the failed wedding.

“Whatever,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to take a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky.

“Aemond, I tried to say something so your Mum would kind of ditch them, but—“

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He is quick in reassuring you that he knows why they might show up. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Come, I wanna spend one night without anyone bothering us,” you say and he agrees, intertwining your fingers as you both walk inside the building, enjoying a quiet night together.

“All I’m saying is that tea is the solution to all of your problems!” Helaena says, crossing her legs as she sips on her morning tea. The sun shines at the grounds of the country club, and Hel’s suggestion to have breakfast in one of the many balconies is extraordinary.

“Bold of you to say that in front of a coffee person,” you reply and reach for your cup. “Also, thank you so much for packing these clothes! I had no idea I owned them.”

“Well, I can't let my bestie stay in our cultural country club without aesthetic clothes—oh, good morning birthday boy!”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” Aemond appears behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi, handsome.” He bends down to kiss you slowly, making Helaena gag once more. “Why do you look so disgusted? You’re not a virgin, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, maybe because I grew up with her and you at the same time. And I’m older than both of you and single. Do you see how horrible I must be feeling?”

“Cut the crap, Hel, I know you’ve been in a very, very steamy friendship with the Stark boy. You ain’t fooling no one.” She turns to you, gawking at you while her cheeks get covered in crimson red, blushing as she looks down at her tea. “Besides, he is hot—“

“I beg your pardon?” Aemond says, frowning at you and you are quick to chuckle and pull him down again, kissing him languidly. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. No one is near as hot as you are, Little Nerd. You are my one and only.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, now sit and eat something. Mum said something about guests coming over today,” Helaena says, and you watch how Aemond’s smile fades slowly. He nods silently and sits down in front of you, taking a sip from the coffee he is sure you made for him as he grows quiet.

“Aemond…” Helaena reaches and squeezes his shoulder. “I know how you feel about them, fucking hell, even I don’t want them around, but it is what it is. Just—I’m begging you, don’t make a scene.”

“As if the last time they didn’t provoke me.” He taps his foot on the ground, sipping on his drink before he sighs and pats his sister’s hand. “I won’t talk to them, don’t worry.”

“I’m worried about you, not them, sweet brother.” She smiles at him sympathetically. “They have the tendency to get under everyone’s skin.”

“Not yours though.” Aemond grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles while he talks to Helaena. “You seem to like them anyway.”

“Right, because I danced one time with Jace shows how much I adore them—“

“You had Aegon vibrating in his seat from anger.”

“Protective much?” you comment, and Aemond shrugs but matches your teasing smirk. “Is it a quality in Targaryen men? Should I be worried?”

“Yeah, if you’d like me to not go to jail.” Helaena scoffs at him, and he continues, “I’d probably kill the man if they lay a hand on you.”

“That’s so fucking hot, but please don’t kill anyone, I need you around.” You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss like you always do, but pull away quickly so Helaena can have a peaceful moment. “Who are your guests anyway? Besides your father and sister.”

“Grandpa will be here too. Daemon, I think? Oh, and there is a good chance Uncle Gwayne will join us tomorrow!” Helaena explains.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna take you away from these people the moment we are done saying hi.”

“How charming, Aemond.” You grin at him, hearing the sounds of Aegon’s quick steps reaching the balcony.

“Morning, morning.” Aegon bows dramatically. “Anyway, our precious, most gracious guests have arrived. You won’t believe how horrendous Viserys looks. It’s like a snake has been eating him inside out, it’s fucking creepy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that about our father, Egg.” Helaena stands up and helps you up too, looking between you and Aemond. “Don’t give them a reason to make our lives a living hell. You can disappear when we go outside, yeah? Just not now— and you! Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Aemond nods and with one last reassuring smile, you all step off the balcony, and you watch how Aemond’s walls are back up as he walks downstairs; his face is stoic, emotionless as if he wasn’t grinning a second ago. He walks with his hands locked behind his back, his shoulders rolled back and chin held high. You can see no trace of emotion in him anymore.

“There they are,” Alicent says, her voice soft and welcoming, but everyone can feel the discomfort under it. “Morning, my loves. Come, let us—“

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” With a wave of a hand, Viserys dismisses the group entirely, limping towards the dining hall with his cane.

“I apologize, Father is really not doing well,” Rhaenyra tells Alicent, a polite smile on her face. “He is more weary than ever. I hope you understand.”

“He could have said a normal hello, couldn’t he?” Aegon sneers, leaning against the wall as he watches everyone.

“Aegon, please.” Alicent looks at her oldest, and once you look down, you see how her nails are bloody and raw from being picked at. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“We will, thank you.” Rhaenyra glances at Helaena, giving her a small smile, before she looks at Aemond. “It is nice to see you well, brother. The marriage stunt was pretty horrible. I’m glad you are well enough to host a party.”

“Yeah, one would think two months after a horrible breakup, he would be in ruins.” Daemon’s booming voice echoes in the hall, and your arm tightens around Helaena’s as you watch how he smirks, his and Rhaenyra’s kids coming into view shortly. “The bridesmaid is here too, I see. You have got good company, nephew.”

“I do,” Aemond replies with the coldest voice you have ever heard from him. You watch him breathe softly, masking his feelings easily, but he is an open book to you; he is nervous, a bit angry, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders are evident.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Targaryen,” you say quickly, not really thrilled with how Daemon gives you an overall look, his smirk widening as he chuckles.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” he looks at Rhaenyra and extends his arm to her. “Shall we, niece?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra answers and looks at Alicent. “We will not be joining you for lunch. I wish to show the kids around.”

“Make yourself at home.” Alicent nods politely, glaring at Argon before she sighs and reaches to grab Aemond’s arm. “Darling, don’t listen to them, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nods, his fingers fidgeting behind his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Wow, Helaena, you are glowing.” Jace, you remember Hel telling you about him, approaches the two of you. “You look resilient—“

“Back off,” Aegon snaps, pushing himself off the wall, but Daeron is quick to wrap his arm around Aegon’s shoulders to keep him away from his nephew.

“Thank you, Jacaerys,” Helaena responds politely, but grins when she sees her cousins. “I’ve missed you two!”

Baela and Rhaena step forward, and your best friend lets go of your arm to hug the twins.

You glance at Aemond, finding him staring at his nephews while they greet him not-so-enthusiastically, and you take the chance to step in and comfort him with just having his back.

“Hi, I’m Helaena’s friend.” You shake Jace’s hand, but when you see his younger nephew smirking a bit too maliciously, you back off and stand next to Aemond.

“Yeah, I think I remember you!” Jace exclaims, smiling politely as he tries to engage in a conversation with Aemond, but he only replies with low hums and nods.

“I remember you too! At my uncle’s wedding, right?” The younger one whose name you do not remember says, reaching to shake your hand. “Lucerys, pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to see you.” You give him an awkward smile, remembering that he was the one who got into a fight with Aemond when they were kids, sighing when the images of that night play in your mind.

“Babe! Come, come, meet Baela and Rhaena!” You pat Aemond’s arm, lovingly mumbling a quick ‘later’ before you walk towards Hel and hug the twins quickly, enjoying how spiritual they are.

“How about we go and take a quick walk around the building? Maybe we can settle for a game or two!” Daeron says, clapping his hand as he tries to break the tension between his siblings and nephews.

“I’m gonna go for a ride,” Aemond announces, moving away without waiting for any response, but stops and looks at you. “Have you seen our stables?”

“The stables?” you ask quietly, and when Aegon nudges you from behind, you catch up on Aemond’s thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. “No! No, I haven’t! I would love to though!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Aemond walks upstairs, and with an apology you bolt upstairs, following Aemond to his room so he can change, but he stops you and kisses you quickly when you are out of sight. “Wait here, we don’t want anyone to be suspicious, yeah? I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” You peck his lips again before pushing him inside the room gently. “Go, go, can’t wait to see you in your riding clothes!”

He only winks and smiles, shutting the door. He changes into his riding leather pants and black shirt, pulling on his knee high boots before he ties his hair in a ponytail.

“Fuck me.” You eye him when he steps out, biting your lip as you rest your palms on his chest, running them down his body as you ogle at his tight pants, enjoying how delicious he looks in his riding clothes. “Why have you been hiding this from me, handsome?”

“Because I knew how much of a pervert you are, darling.” You notice how less nervous he is now, and you kiss his jaw, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Glad you are aware of how much I like to fuck you, because right now, nothing seems as wonderful as making you hard in these clothes.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans against your lips. “Stop torturing me.”

“Never. Now come on, I believe you owe me a tour of the stables!” you say, letting him pull you downstairs by the hand, looking around to see if someone is around before he leads you to another path. You walk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk hand in hand.

“This is my other lady,” he tells you as you walk through the stable, stopping in front of a black mare, running his palm over its long neck. “She doesn’t have a name, unfortunately. Nothing fits her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it on the mare’s back, rubbing it softly. “Will you bring her out now?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I would love it very much!” You step aside as Aemond pushes the wooden door open, grabbing his horse’s reins to guide her outside the stables, and you follow him, watching as he mounts the black mare, and bolts his horse to the field. Someone opens the fence for him and he rides through it.

You rest your hands on the fence, smiling at the sight of him rounding the field with his horse, sun shining bright on his silver hair, casting an angelic glow on his face. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

He smiles at you, stopping in front of you before he points for you to hop over the fence and you do hesitantly, stepping next to his horse.

“Come on, ride with me.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you up with ease, making room to help you sit in front of him. “I remember how scared you were the first time you caught me in our old stables.”

“Please, don’t remind me!” you laugh, throwing your head back on his shoulder. “It was horrendous! I nearly let your father’s stallion stomp on me.”

“Yeah, well, I saved you, so you can thank me for that,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “Do you wanna step down? I feel you shaking.”

“I’m shaking because the amount of affection I have for you is too intense.” You crane your neck to look at him, and he pulls on the reins to stop the horse as he looks down at you.

“How bad is this affection?”

“So bad that I wanna kiss you in front of everyone.” He leans down, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you handsome idiot, now kiss me when no one is watching.”

He does kiss you, but unbeknownst to you, there is someone watching.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fluff #🍊dreams

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theemporium · 8 months ago

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[5k] neither of you considered the possibility of your family and friends finding out about your relationship. however, in a series of events, they discover you and quinn are together. but it's fine as long as luke doesn't find out, right?

part one // series masterlist

When the season started, you thought it would be easier to hide your relationship from everyone you knew. Never once did either you or Quinn expect to be caught.

And never once did you think the first person to learn about you and Quinn would be Trevor fucking Zegras of all people.

Before the semester had even started, it had been an unspoken agreement between you and Quinn that you would fly out during reading week. It would be difficult to avoid questions—mostly from Luke who would be offended you weren’t going to fly out to New Jersey—but it was doable. It just took a few weeks of you dropping hints and clues about flying out to Canada to your best friend for him to not really question it when you said you were going to visit your brother.

And after months away, it was a fucking dream to have this week with Quinn, to settle that uneasiness in your chest that had been lingering since you left the lakehouse that summer.

You both knew the hockey schedule was insane. You knew neither of you could really leave his apartment. But with a string of games at home for the week, it seemed worth having that week together.

You didn’t think anything could go wrong.

“What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?”

Your fingers paused the random shapes they were tracing on his bare chest, moving to lift your head to find him already staring at you with a fond look.

“You. Us. This. Everything.” You listed off, your lips twitching upwards when he rolled his eyes. “What? You asked and I answered.”

“I think you’re holding out on me,” Quinn retorted, his hand squeezing where it rested on your hip. “Wanna share what things you were thinking about? More specifically, those thoughts about us.”

You snorted. “Get your head out of the gutter, Hughes.”

“Maybe you need to get your head down there,” he countered and, before a witty response could even pass your lips, he had flipped you both over until you were laying on your back with him looming over you. “It’s fun down here, I think you’d like it.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as his fingers traced up and down your bare thigh, a small grin on his face when he felt your body shiver in response. “Gave me a few ideas too.”

You swallowed harshly as you noted the dark glint in his eyes, the way your stomach twisted in desire as his fingers kept moving upwards. “Like what?”

Quinn’s smirk widened a little. “Like—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling as though your body had been doused in cold water as you sat up a little. “Were you expecting someone?”

Quinn frowned, sitting up himself as he tried not to show his clear annoyance at the interruption. “No, I told the boys to call me if they needed me outside of practice. I don’t know who that could be—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“You should probably go get that,” you murmured, trying to bite back your smile as Quinn grumbled something under his breath.

“If it’s any of the boys, I’m making them do bag skates at practice,” he huffed, crawling out of the sheets and reaching for an abandoned pair of sweatpants on the floor before he left the bedroom.

He could feel his annoyance brittle when the person knocked for a third time, this time hitting the door over and over again until Quinn reached for the handle and yanked the door open.

The last person he expected to see was Trevor Zegras on the other side, grinning at him like it was a totally normal thing for him to be on Quinn’s doorstep on a random Tuesday.

“There’s my favourite Hughes!”

Quinn blinked once. And then twice. And then a third time just to make sure he was actually standing there.

“What the fuck, Zegras?”

“I wanted to surprise you! We didn’t have anything on before the game on Thursday so I thought I’d head up a day earlier than the others and—” Trevor paused, seeming to catch on to the way the older boy was glaring at him. “Geez, this wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“I—” Quinn took a deep breath. “And what reaction were you expecting?”

“At least a hug, I mean—” Trevor moved to take a step forward, his arms open like he was going to reach to hug the other boy, only to pause. It was like he was finally taking in Quinn’s attire for the first time—or the lack thereof—before his eyes focused on the blossoming bruises along his neck and collarbone.

It was scary the way the grin spread across his face.

Quinn frowned. “What? Why are you doing that with your face?”

“You got a girl in here, Huggy?” Trevor grinned, not even giving Quinn a chance to react before he was pushing his way into the flat. “Aw shit, Jack never told me you were seeing someone! Is it new? What’s her name? Is it a dude? Listen, I don’t judge! I’ve seen the edits with you and Pettersson.”

Quinn blinked. “I—what?”

He was still standing in shock, trying to process the words that just left Trevor’s lips before he realised the boy was walking deeper into his flat. His eyes widened, his brain shutting out whatever random rambling that was coming out of Trevor’s mouth as he tried to reach out to stop the boy—but it was useless.

It was like the whole world froze when Trevor shoved the bedroom door open. His words came to an abrupt stop, his jaw hanging open as he looked at you sprawled on Quinn’s bed with a sheet covering your clearly-otherwise naked body. He looked at your face, then back to Quinn before they settled on you again.

“YOU’RE BANGING LADY HUGHES?!”

Quinn winced. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“I…oh my god…you…WHAT?” Trevor spluttered out, looking between the two of you like you were aliens to him. “How long has this been going on? Why the fuck did no one tell me? What the fuck?”

“Well, we can’t tell you something nobody else knows,” you supplied with a sheepish expression.

His eyes widened further. “Nobody else knows? Like at all?”

You shook your head.

His face instantly brightened. “So I’m the first?”

“Not by choice,” Quinn grumbled under his breath.

“You can’t tell anyone, Trev,” you said, a pleading look on your face. “Especially not Luke. We are gonna tell him…just not yet. You cannot tell a soul, not even Jack.”

“I won’t. Scout’s promise.”

Quinn glared at him. “Were you even a boy scout?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“I—” Quinn just shook his head. “Can you just…wait outside whilst we get dressed?”

“Aw, I knew you’d be happy I was here, Huggy,” Trevor beamed, patting the older boy’s cheek before he bounced out of the room, most likely helping himself to whatever was in Quinn’s fridge.

Quinn turned to you, looking exasperated but you just grinned.

“Guess that’s one less person we have to worry about hiding from?”

He just sighed deeply in response.

…

Trevor ended up keeping his word, not telling a soul. Though, he did go out of his way to bug you and Quinn—mostly Quinn—about your relationship.

You would have thought the situation with Trevor would have prompted the two of you to be more careful. You thought it would have been your lesson learnt that not even the season being fully underway would be distracting enough for you to be as laid back as you were. You thought it was the small reality check you needed.

As it would turn out, it wasn’t even two weeks later when the next slip up happened.

It was a stupid, drunken promise that led you to the Hughes’ family home in Ann Arbor, bright and early on a Saturday. When the boys had revealed to you that all three batches of the cookies they had meant to make for a charity sale the university were holding had burnt to a crisp because all of them were incapable of baking, you had offered up your amateur baking skills to make a few batches.

You were drunk and emotionally compromised and it was really hard to say no to the pleading eyes of Ethan Edwards.

However, with your kitchen barely being big enough to hold two people, Ellen had kindly offered her kitchen for you to use. Plus, she had been wanting to catch up with you since the semester had started, especially considering it was the longest time you and Luke had been apart.

It was somewhere in between the second and third batch when your phone started ringing on the counter.

“Hey Ellen, could you grab that for me?” You called out over your shoulder, your hands preoccupied in rolling small balls of cookie dough to place on the tray. “Just answer it and put it on speaker.”

There was a beat of hesitation. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, just place it down on the counter beside me,” you said offhandedly, frowning at the batch of cookies as Ellen pressed the little green button and let the ringing stop.

You were elbow deep in a bowl of batter when a familiar voice echoed through the Hughes’ kitchen.

“Hey babe, quick question: did you say you were coming up for Christmas break or not?”

The whole room fell silent as you looked over your shoulder, finding Ellen already staring at you. She had an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching upwards in a smile that was a little mischievous—it reminded you so much of Jack. You dared a glance at the doorway where Jim stood, eyebrows raised in surprise but something quite happy in his expression.

“Uh, can I call you back? I just have to…deal with something real quick.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” You trailed off again, your cheeks burning as Ellen and Jim stared at you. “I’ll call back in ten minutes when I’m finished with these cookies, okay?”

“Okay, miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

The sound of the call cutting sounded through the kitchen and none of you said anything for a few seconds. And much to your surprise, it was Jim who spoke first.

“God dammit, kid, you cost me twenty bucks!”

You blinked. “Huh?”

Ellen smiled fondly, taking a few steps until she was beside you. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze, something knowing in her gaze. “I always knew you’d end up with one of my boys. Jim was just convinced it would be Jack.”

Jim huffed. “I bet your parents twenty bucks each.”

Your eyes widened. “My parents?”

“We aren’t blind, kid,” Jim retorted, something soft and fond in his voice.

Ellen snorted. “Clearly you are since you thought it would be Jack.”

“I—” You started but you weren’t even sure what to say.

Ellen turned back to you, smiling like the whole conversation was normal. “I always knew it would be Quinn. I saw the way he looked at you, even when you were young.”

Your brows furrowed. “Quinn barely liked me when we were kids.”

And Ellen just laughed like that was the funniest thing you could have said. It wasn’t exactly the way you wanted either of your parents—Quinn’s and your own—to find out about your relationship.

But, unlike Trevor, Ellen and Jim understood the unspoken rule and just how…complicated the situation was, despite Ellen’s insistence that her eldest son had been crushing on you for a lot longer than you believed.

Nobody tell Luke.

…

It was your fault for leaving the room.

When you had enrolled in Michigan, there was a small part of you that was worried college would be the thing to tear you and Luke apart. In retrospect, it was a stupid thought to have. But you were young and scared and entering this unknown era of your life, and you just wanted to cling onto what you knew, what you were used to—onto Luke.

You realised pretty early on that the thought was stupid when the hockey team had practically adopted you. You were an extension of Luke, but it never felt like that. They were your friends as much as they were Luke’s, and you found yourself fond of these boys who had wiggled their way into your heart.

Knowing you still had them despite Luke being in New Jersey made coming back alone so much easier.

However, the life of a D1 athlete was an intense one, along with the fact classes were getting harder and assignments were getting longer. But the boys had practically demanded you come over at least once a week so you didn’t ‘forget who your new best friends are’, as they so kindly liked to say over and over again. Mostly just to annoy Luke.

It was one of those nights. You had made your way to their house after your last class, faceplanting down onto the couch until the group of you had decided on ordering pizza. You had some random comedy movie running on in the background, just senseless noise to accompany whatever random debates Ethan had managed to drag up. It was nice and easy and relaxing, and made you feel a little more sane in what was turning out to be a gruelling year.

You were in the middle of showing Rutger a random video Jack had sent you of Luke decking it on the ice during practice when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” you told them without missing a beat, leaving your phone in their hands as you collected the pizzas from the delivery man.

What you weren’t expecting was to come back and find all of them staring at you with creepy matching grins on their faces.

You froze, eyeing them suspiciously. “What? What happened?”

“You are a sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Rutger spoke up, looking far too smug over something you were still in the dark over.

You glanced between them before your eyes settled on Rutger again, your confusion clear on your face.

Rutger continued, “when were you gonna tell us you have a boyfriend?”

Your body froze. “I don’t know what—”

“And when the fuck were you gonna tell us it’s Quinn Hughes?” Mark jumped in, turning your phone around to show a picture you and Quinn had taken during your last visit.

He had taken the photo in an elevator mirror, your back to the camera as you wrapped yourself around the boy. But he was grinning, so big and unbothered and it was one of your favourite sights. It was one of your favourite photos of him.

And it certainly wasn’t the photo you left them with.

“Did you go through my phone?” You finally managed to blurt out when words found you again. But the damage was done and you knew there wasn’t much you could do considering the last time they were aware, you barely spoke to the oldest Hughes brother.

“I can’t believe you kept this from us!” Ethan huffed out, shaking his head like he was genuinely offended. He probably was. He tended to be the more dramatic one.

“I can’t believe Luke allowed this,” Mark snorted.

You flashed them a sheepish smile.

“Oh, dude,” Rutger murmured with a shake of his head.

“You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone.” You shifted in your spot, something a little desperate and pleading in your voice, and it was enough for the boys to sober up a bit. Become a little more serious. “We didn’t wanna tell anyone yet and I just…”

“We won’t tell a soul,” Mark reassured you, a soft smile on his face that eased some of the anxiety in your chest.

“As long as you tell us everything,” Ethan added, a knowing smirk on his face. “And I mean everything because how the fuck does any of the Hughes brothers have game?”

And you couldn’t help but snort in response.

…

Jack didn’t accidentally find out more than he put it together.

It wasn’t often that the Devils and the Canucks met during the season but when they did, it was a family affair. You had decided to join the Hughes parents on their trip up to Vancouver, each of you wearing your hybrid Canucks/Devils jerseys that Ellen had custom made for these occasions.

The game itself went by as you expected. There was a lot of media coverage on the ‘Hughes Bowl’, meaning each of the boys had been dragged into interview after interview before the game. It was a good game, a clean one too. You tried not to wince too much when the final buzzer blared through the arena and it was a Devils win.

You knew Quinn would be a little gutted, even if he wouldn’t fully show it in front of his family.

The group of you had decided to head out to one of the Canucks’ favourite bars, something that Luke had whined a little about considering Ellen and Jim insisted they join. But it was wholesome and sweet and made you crave the summer weeks a little more than the current early January weather.

You were settled at the bar, laughing at Jack’s attempt to catch the bartender’s attention to order another round of shots he had dragged you into doing when you felt the warmth of another body settle beside you. For a short moment, you smiled thinking that maybe Quinn had snuck away from whatever conversation he had been stuck in with Petey and Jim. But when you turned your head, you found a stranger standing beside you.

“Hey gorgeous,” he smiled, and something instantly unsettled deep within your chest.

“Hi,” you replied, short and blunt as you tried to shift away but there wasn’t much space by the crowded bar.

“Hey, where are you going? I just wanted to chat,” he said with an easy smile on his face, his hand resting on your elbow and you instantly jerked away from his hold.

“I’m not interested,” you answered.

He laughed and the sound grated on your nerves. “That’s a bit presumptuous that I wanted something, sweetheart. Think you’re all that, huh?”

“Just leave me alone,” you said as you took a step back. A part of you wanted to turn your head and try to catch Jack’s attention, try to ask for help. Another part of you didn’t want to look away from this man. You didn’t trust him.

He huffed out a chuckle. “Don’t be like that—”

“She said no. Fuck off now.”

A mix of relief and surprise washed over you when you felt a body settle behind you, and you didn’t need to turn your head to know it was Quinn standing behind you, but you still did just to settle the tightness in your chest.

His face was set in a blank expression, but you recognised it well enough. When he got angry—truly angry—he didn’t have a frown on his face or a crease between his brows. His face just looked…blank. Like he was so lost in his own rage that no expression could really encapsulate how he felt.

You rarely saw it. He rarely showed this side of him.

His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as his eyes never left the stranger’s. He tilted his head to the side when the man opened his mouth again, and that seemed enough to shut him up again.

“Go.”

The man decided to do the smart thing and scuttle into the crowd of people, disappearing with a blink of an eye until neither you nor Quinn could see him. But even with him gone, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your chest.

A second passed before Quinn moved, now standing in front of you with your face in his hands as he tore your gaze away from the crowd to look at him instead. His brows were furrowed together in concern, his lips turned downwards as he glanced over you to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, you with me?” He murmured, his voice soft and comforting and you clung onto it.

“Mhm,” you nodded, flashing him a shaky smile.

His frown deepened. “Don’t lie to me—”

“I’m not,” you told him honestly, your hands fisting the material of his shirt like you were scared he was going to step away. “I just…you make me feel better.”

His face softened and the last of his resolve went out the window as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close until you were pressed into his chest. You nuzzled your face against his sweater, letting the familiar smell of his cologne wash over you and calm the last of your nerves.

And when you opened your eyes, you found Jack standing a few feet away from you. Quinn hadn’t noticed he was there and Jack made no move to announce his presence. But he gave you this smile, one that was kind and knowing and felt like a stamp of approval you didn’t know you wanted or needed from the middle Hughes brother.

But Jack smiled at the sight of you and his older brother, raising his shot glass like a promise to keep your secret and knocking it back without a moment of hesitation.

…

You had no plans on telling Luke about you and Quinn the night it actually ended up happening.

There was a mutual agreement between you both that you couldn’t keep it from Luke any longer. It wasn’t fair on him to be left in the dark, it wasn’t fair on you two having to sneak around and it wasn’t fair on the people who already knew having to keep your secret.

And with the normal season coming to an end, it felt like a clock was running against you to tell your best friend you were dating his brother before you were all locked in the lakehouse for the summer together.

When you had imagined the moment in your head, it was the three of you. You would sit Luke down, explain your feelings and hope that he wouldn’t feel too betrayed. You imagined he would say something stupid like ‘yeah, I already know, losers’ and you could live your lives happily ever after.

It was probably never going to happen like that, but you certainly didn’t expect it to happen like this.

After a rough season and a streak of rough games for Luke in particular, the news of the Devils’ head coach stepping down felt inevitable and, truthfully, it was a relief when you saw the news come through. Luke had called you, far too smug and giddy for someone whose team was technically without a key member—but you guessed it was mostly second-hand from the other boys.

You swore you could hear Jack and Nico talking about popping open a bottle of champagne in the background when he called.

It felt like an unspoken agreement for you to fly out when Luke told you about a huge party they were throwing that weekend. Not for the recent retirement, obviously. If anyone asked, it was a simple bonding experience for the boys to motivate them through the last leg of the season.

And somewhere between the beer pong game Luke dragged you into and the really strong margarita Simon made you, you had snuck off into a small bathroom to call the one person your drunk self craved to see.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You grinned at the sight of your boyfriend’s face on your screen, his hair tucked under a beanie as he walked around his apartment. “Hey, baby.”

He took in your flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, snorting a little. “Having fun?”

“So much fun,” you giggled before letting out a heavy sigh. “I wish you were here.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, like he was counting the days. He probably was. You knew you were too. “Spring break, remember?”

“Hmm, I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” you mused, sinking back against the wall of the bath you were currently leaning on. “I’m sick of sharing my boyfriend with Petey.”

Quinn laughed. “I thought you loved Petey.”

You sighed deeply. “I do love that big, blond Swede.”

He shook his head in amusement. “I’ll let him know. I’m sure he loves you too.”

You perked up a little. “Really?”

“Really, baby.”

“Woah,” you breathed out, your eyes falling shut as you leaned against the cool ceramic of the bathtub. “I know I said it before…but I really wish you were here.”

Quinn’s face softened. “Me too, babe. Me too.”

You opened your mouth to say something, probably some random drunken thought that you felt the insistent need to share with your boyfriend before knocking on the bathroom door interrupted you.

You froze when you heard Luke calling your name on the other side.

Quinn frowned at the way your face paled a little. “Baby, what’s happened? Who is it?”

You heard shuffling on the other side before Luke’s muffled voice sounded through the door. “Are you talking to Quinn?”

You could have hung up. You could have told him you were talking to someone else entirely. You could have done a million and one other things that made more sense. However, for some fucking reason, your drunk brain panicked.

“I don’t know a Quinn!”

Quinn furrowed his brows in confusion.

There was a pause on the other side of the door before Luke tested the handle, finding the door unlocked. He let himself in, standing by the entrance as he stared down at you curled up beside the bathtub with a frown.

“Why are you hiding in here? I need another beer pong partner and Holtz sucks so—”

And because the universe liked to fuck with you, it seemed like there was some sort of lag on Quinn’s side because his voice was echoing through the small bathroom before you could even warn him about Luke’s presence.

“Baby, what’s happening? You’re starting to scare me.”

Your eyes widened as silence suffocated the small room. You looked at Quinn before looking at Luke, who was looking at your phone with a mixed expression.

“Did…did he just call you baby?”

“No?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Why are you on the phone to Quinn? And why are you hiding in the bathroom? And since when do you talk to Quinn?”

You flashed him a sheepish smile. “Since we’ve been dating,”

Luke blinked before he snorted. “No, I’m being serious.”

You swallowed. “So am I.”

Luke let out another laugh, but this one was a little less convincing. “I…no, you’re messing with me. Jack put you both up to this, right?”

You stayed silent.

“Right?” Luke asked again, a little more desperate.

Your eyes shifted down to Quinn—the lag thankfully gone—before you looked back up at Luke with a nervous expression. You shifted so your phone screen was now facing him, watching as his eyes dropped down to his brother’s face.

“We wanted to tell you—”

“You,” Luke sneered, his eyes narrowed. “You have been planning this.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“He’s been planning this!” Luke said with such confidence, though that might have been the mix of rum and tequila talking. “He’s been planning this since the sour patch kids!”

Quinn shot his brother a look. “You think I’ve been planning to date your best friend since you were seven?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know Quinn was rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

“How long has this been going on?”

“A while.”

“That’s not an answer,” Luke frowned before looking at you.

“Since last summer,” you whispered.

“Summer?!” Luke spluttered. “You two have been dating for eight months and no one knew?”

You winced.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Who knows?”

“Just Trevor,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

He deflated, blinking. “Oh, well I guess—”

“And your parents and my parents and Ethan and Rutger and Mark and Jack,” you blurted out quickly, your cheeks heating up as Luke stared at you like he didn’t know you.

“So everyone but me?”

“Luke—”

“Everyone but me knows?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“This is just a bad dream,” Luke murmured to himself before nodding his head, a little more confidently. “No, yes. This is a bad dream influenced by Nemo’s shitty bartending skills. A bad dream where my older brother is stealing my best friend. It isn’t real at all.”

You blinked. “Luke—”

“Just need to play out the rest of the bad dream and I’ll wake up,” he continued muttering away as he reached for the door handle, ready to leave the small, cramped bathroom. “Just a bad dream.”

“Luke—”

But he was already gone before you could say anything.

“Well, he’s gonna have a brutal reality check in the morning.”

You turned your phone to glare at your boyfriend. Though, much to your surprise, he was grinning in response.

“Quinn, this is serious.”

“Baby, I know.” His face seemed to soften a little, but the smile remained. “But now he knows. This is what we wanted. And now we don’t have to hide.”

Your annoyance melted away at his revelation, a warmth settling in your chest that only Quinn seemed to bring. “Stop being cute.”

“I’m being realistic, baby. Now you can come up any time you want.”

You snorted. “I still have classes.”

“I’ll find a way around those too. You can’t stop me, baby, gonna tell the whole world how much I love you.”

Your face softened with a smile. “I love you too.”

Quinn’s smile mirrored yours. “Now go make sure my brother doesn’t do something stupid whilst he thinks he’s in a dream. Mum will kill me if his face is plastered on a tabloid in the morning.”

“Pretty sure Jack will go out of his way to make sure that happens.”

“Please don’t let it happen.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”

He shook his head with a fond expression. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I love Petey.”

Quinn snorted. “Yeah, I love him too. Get in line.”

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

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A bitty bit and a poll... cw: post canon typical violence, blood, offer of smuttiness ship: Danny/Jason

“Danny.”

“Hood,” Danny said, pushing his hair back as he turned Jason’s way. His thumb ran over the shaved side of his head. A streak of blood trailed behind by the motion.

“What did they want?” Jason asked. He kicked at the side of one of the groaning thugs for emphasis as he strode over to Danny.

Danny just shrugged. “The usual.”

“Not supposed to be the usual in my territory,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, well,” Danny said with that crooked grin of his. There was something all the more feral about the grin that night between the blood and the way the harsh magenta neon that adorned the outside of Danny’s shop broke through the light rain. “I’m in that grey zone; not in one place or the other.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re my mechanic so you’re my territory.”

Danny’s grin widened and he had the audacity to wink. “Kinky.”

“What did I say about shutting up?” Jason asked as he started to look Danny over for injuries.

Danny pliantly, and almost with amusement, let Jason check him over. When Jason found a cut on the other’s arm, he huffed, tossed the bloodied tire iron Danny was holding away, and started to roll up the sleeve of the black over shirt.

“It’s fine Hood, it’s nothing,” Danny said as he peered around Jason.

Without letting go of Danny’s arm, Jason pulled out a gun and twisted enough to point it at the thug who was helping the one Jason had kicked off the ground.

“This street is off limits.”

“Ain’t Crime Alley!” the one said, spitting blood. “Old Gotham is—”

“Right over there. This street? It’s mine,” Jason said. He cocked his gun for emphasis.

“It ain’t—”

“It ain’t worth dying over! Leave it!” the other thug hissed and tried to pull them away. “If fucking Red Hood says it’s his then it’s his! Now come on.”

“Make sure you take the rest with you,” Jason ordered. He kept his gun trained on them until they were long out of sight.

“Do I still have to shut up?” Danny asked cheekily into the silence. “Because I can think of some fun ways for you to make me.”

Jason turned slowly to look at Danny. “What.”

It wasn’t exactly a question. Jason knew what Danny was implying, but what?

Danny just shrugged, still with that smile. “Can’t a man thank his knight in leather armor? I mean, totally feel free to turn me down. I’m not going to pressure someone into that sort of thing, but I figured it didn’t hurt to offer. You seem like you’re a little tense—”

As if they weren’t just in a fight.

“—and could use the release. I’m not going to pretend that I would mind being between those thighs. So what do you say, wanna let me blow you?”

Danny might as well have hit Jason with that tire iron for how his thoughts scrambled at that offer. Who the fuck did that? Danny had no reason to. Jason already made clear that Danny was under his protection. Jason had also been ramping up the amount of work he gave to Danny versus handling himself. It wasn’t like the guy needed to offer sexual favors.

Jason shook his head, as if that would clear his confusion. “Next time or something. I’ve got work.”

“Sure, wouldn’t want to keep you,” Danny said and took a step back.

“Wrap that arm.”

“What arm?”

“Danny.”

Danny laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets as he backed up into his shop. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wrap it. Go out there and take on the big bad night, hero.”

“I’m not a fucking hero,” Jason called after him. “And lock your damn door!”

Danny gave a cheeky salute before disappearing into the shop.

Brat.

---

AN: NOW, you all know by now, I'm sure, that I love playing around with how balanced Danny is as a half and his hair color and things like that. This is the new idea I was whining about earlier. It's going to be about as pwp as I'm able to get and supposedly a one shot. Danny is very, very forward, Jason is very, very confused (and later very, very satisfied). So all that said...

#dp x dc #dead on main #offering on a chance

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taesanrot · 10 months ago

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[found you] sungchan x f!reader | 0.7k words fluff, a little angst but not really, brother's best friend!sungchan, mutual pining, college au kinda... note. reader is eunseok's younger sister and a sophomore not sure if that was too clear. hope u guys enjoy! one two three

you crossed your arms loosely and began the short walk to your apartment. checking your phone, you see a couple texts from your friends, asking how your dinner date had gone. you sighed.

sungmin was sweet; he was cute and respectful and he should’ve been everything you wanted. but somehow, you felt nothing with him. your friends, the same ones who had set the two of you up, convinced you to give it time, but after your second date you ended things, smiling at him softly and telling him you didn’t think it would be a great idea for the two of you to keep seeing each other. he almost begged you to let him walk you home; it was starting to get dark. but you honestly just wanted to get away from him and stop rubbing salt on the wound. so here you were, walking to your campus apartment in a comfortable silence, staring at the ground and filing through your own thoughts.

that silence didn’t last too long as you heard someone call your name confusedly. “y/n?”

you looked up and squinted, barely registering the tall figure that had called out to you. they jogged towards you and you sighed in relief as your eyes focused on the mystery figure's face. jung sungchan. 3rd year student also attending your uni. your brother’s best friend and roommate. and unfortunately, the reason you even went out tonight. he was the person you wished so desperately that your heart would forget.

“hi sungchan.” you managed a weak smile. you could barely look him in the eyes, you face felt like it was on fire every time you looked at him. you felt your pulse jump as he looked you up and down, eyeing your outfit. “going somewhere?” he tried his best to fake surprise. he already knew exactly what your plans were — eunseok had mentioned it earlier that day.

“y/n’s seeing that guy again.” eunseok rolled his eyes after checking his phone. he didn’t understand why you were suddenly going on dates. "i thought he was boring?" seunghan, their third roommate replied, looking up from his cereal.

sungchan walked past the two boys and opened the fridge, grabbing a protein shake. he turned and leant against the countertop, twisting the cap of his drink open. “huh? what guy?.” sungchan tried to sound as unbothered as possible. he wasn't doing a great job at it. eunseok raised an eyebrow at the taller boy. seunghan bit back a laugh.

“some senior yunjin set her up with. park sungmin…. you know him?” eunseok smirked, pretending not to notice the way sungchan’s jaw tightened slightly. "i'm going to the gym" sungchan huffed out as he finished the last sips of his drink, crumpling the bottle with more force than necessary before tossing it.

you looked down at your skirt and blouse, laughing dejectedly. "yeah, dinner actually. i'm on my way home now." although he was over the moon to hear that things with you and sungmin were clearly going nowhere, his eyes softened at the sadness in your voice. "didn't go well?"

"not really, i just wasn't into it, ended things tonight." you looked down, toying with the end of your sleeve. he grimaced. "is that why you're walking back alone?" you nodded. he scanned the area around the two of you. "you could've called me, you shouldn't walk alone so late"

you chuckled softly. "it's okay, i'm a big girl. i can make a five minute walk alone." he broke into a smile and you swear you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. he checked his phone quickly before looking back at you.

"well, me and guys were gonna watch a movie at our place tonight, wanna come along? seems like you could use some company."

you bit your lip in contemplation. you honestly thought spending more time with the one person you were avoiding was a terrible idea. but you also couldn't bear the thought of being alone in your apartment. what's the worst that could happen anyways?

"sure. are you heading there now?" sungchan smiled happily at your answer. "i was gonna pick up some snacks first, there's a convenience store around the corner."

"let's go."

[bonus]

as the front door shut and the tall boy left the apartment, seunghan looked up at eunseok again, chewing the remainder of his cereal. "doesn't it bother you?" eunseok finally let out a laugh. "that he likes my sister? no, i think it's pretty funny, maybe he'll do something about it for once." eunseok's phone chimed with a message from yunjin, a response to him asking where his sister was going tonight. "plus... i'm pretty sure she likes him back."

#jung sungchan #sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #sungchan fic #sungchan fluff #sungchan angst #sungchan smut #riize fluff #riize fics #riize angst

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artydonsgf · 6 months ago

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Hey love💕 could u do an arthusband! fic??

hi sweets! i’m in the process of writing husband art but i didn’t wanna keep you waiting so i wrote out a headcanon list! i also included a small nsfw portion for my own delusional giggles, enjoy~

Art Donaldson as your Husband

- when yall start dating, it’s apparent that you’re his first real girlfriend

- he’s fooled around with people before but the eagerness of his kisses and how quickly your touch sends him over the edge makes it clear it was never serious

- you like it though, it’s cute how embarrassed he gets when you stare at him and call him handsome

- amazing bf, top tier communicator

- you discover early one that art does not play about you so he really tries his best to avoid any arguments that aren’t constructive

- extremely gooey and tells you that he wants to marry you in the future like a week into your relationship

- despite how good of a communicator he is, he also gets in his head very easily

- constantly worried that he’s somehow not enough for you and you’ll find someone better

- these worries die down pretty quickly but it sits in the back of his mind sometimes

- said i love you first and he said it after 6 months

- he later told you that he knew after a month but didn’t want to scare you away

- after a year of dating, he gives you a promise ring and swears that he’ll propose to you the moment you guys graduate

- two years in, you guys move in together

- six months later and true to his word, he gives you his grandmother’s ring while you’re both still in your caps and gowns

- the wedding happens quickly since neither of you wanted something big

- your wedding day is the best day of his life, something he tells you a million times throughout the day

- he cried like a baby when you walked down the aisle

- in all of your wedding photos, he’s looking at you like you are the center of the universe

- art settles into married life with ease

- in his mind, you guys have already been married since the moment you agreed to be his girlfriend

- sharing a last name with you is the best thing ever in his mind

- sometimes he’ll call you mrs donaldson just to hear you respond to it

- laughs into his hand when you respond but you already realized what he was doing forever ago

- a true romantic

- leaves flowers and other cute trinkets at your bedside table when he comes home from traveling for games

- he’ll be dead asleep beside you but you’ll always find a small bouquet, breakfast, and a souvenir from whatever town he passed through

- constantly thinks about you

- facetime warrior, he will call you at any time just to hear your voice

- if he’s lucky and you’re able to come with him to games, he spends any spare time curled up in your arms and ask you to just speak

- loves it when you run a hand through his hair, he’ll twist himself into an uncomfortable position if it means you’ll keep scratching his head

- the annoying guy who mentions his wife at any given moment

- “ah yes, my WIFE, also enjoys hiking”

- his idea of a date is dinner and cuddling the whole night

- seems to forget that he can kiss you whenever because he always asks if he can kiss you

- needs you like he needs air, bro is insane about you

- patrick knew about you before he even met you because art spoke about the beautiful girl with the kind eyes and sweet smile for a month before he actually asked you out

- bro was yearning like crazy

- his biggest issue is his jealousy

- starts plotting murder whenever a man speaks to you for too long

- or woman, he’s equal opportunity jealous

- ofc he doesn’t have to worry because you’re always quick to flash your ring and name drop him as your husband in convos

- he’s a very good husband who loves you an insane amount and makes sure to communicate that to you 24/7

NSFW

- legit will do anything you ask of him, so he’s very into experimenting

- your pleasure > his every time

- he enjoys oral but doesn’t really ask for it since he’d prefer to give

- submissive by nature and is happy to let you take charge

- only really dominant after a particularly tough day on the courts

- aftercare KING, he’ll get you cleaned up in two seconds flat so he can keep you in his arms for the rest of the night

- very needy in bed, he wants your constant attention

- total praise kink, he can hardly breathe when you tell him he’s doing a good job

- he had to learn how to control his pace because he used to come immediately

- despite his quickness at finishing, he has insane stamina and will keep you up the whole night

- it’s always you >>> any of his obligations

- more times than you can count, you’ve had to pry him off of you because he had important things to do the next day

- loves quickies

- likes it when you pull his hair

#challengers #challengers headcanon #challengers fic #challengers imagine #art donaldson #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson headcanon #art donaldson fic

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 8 months ago

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,,Little Bit”

-M.S

Synopsis: Matt agrees to go to a strip club with his friends, to help ‘relieve his stress’. What happens when things take a turn, and Matt actually takes some interest in this horrible fiasco?

Pairing: Switch!Matt X Fem!Stripper!Reader

Warnings: Pure smut. Don’t read if you don’t wanna, no ones forcing you. Unprotected p in v, degradation kink, praise kink, strippers & strip club, choking, oral (m receiving) , cum in pants.

Matt let out a sigh of annoyance as Chris slammed his car door, exiting their ‘shared’ S.U.V. As much as Matt didn’t want to be there, his friends told him it would help him ‘loosen up’, and they were all tired of ‘Tough Guy Matt’.

Matt followed Chris out of the car, almost immediately agreeing upon hearing the blasting music from the club.

“Chris, are you sure this isn’t weird? You’re my brother, I feel awkward going to a strip club with you.” Matt caught up with Chris, who just simply shook his head. “But..” Matt started, and Chris cut him off.

“Look, Matt, we can’t force you to be here, it is completely up to you. No, its not fucking weird, you’re acting like were the ones stripping. Go home if you want to, kid.” Chris sighed, as he continued walking to the door. Matt paused to think about what Chris said, and he eventually agreed.

What was the harm? Plus, he was bound to go to a strip club at least once in his life, so why not just go with people he trusts? He knew Chris was there, and a few of his other closer friends were already waiting inside for the pair, and that is why Chris was trying to make his way to the door quickly.

Matt let out a shaky breath, before jogging back up to Chris, as they both got stopped by the bouncer, for obvious reasons. They were both given the ‘good to go’, and they headed inside, Matt sticking to Chris as close as possible. Loosing Chris would cause him much more anxiety than what he had already built up.

Chris and Matt both walk up to the bar together, where their other friends had been seated. The spot gave them all a clear view of the stage, crowded with loud people, mostly men, seemingly in their mid-twenties, or maybe even early thirties. Him and his friends seemed to be part of the younger people there.

Matt let his eyes wander to the stage. There were only two girls stripping at the moment, one of them was you. The way you walked around the bar, your hands ever so slightly twisting around it, mimicking the exact motions you’d do if you were stroking his cock. The way your back arched, and your legs wrapped seductively around the silver pole, Matt was loosing his mind, just looking at you.

He cursed at himself for letting his mind picture such disgusting images about a woman, let alone one he had never even spoke to before- let alone seen before. Matt’s eyes were glued to your body, almost shamelessly. He felt horrible for thinking such vile thoughts, but you wouldn’t know. There was a very little chance you’d see him staring at you, since there were already so many men doing the same exact thing.

To Matt’s avail, he jinxed it. You looked in his direction before winking. His face immediately flushed crimson red, as his eyes widened. You continued to work your magic on the pole, Matt’s eyes wandering to your ass. Even though the wink was no doubt to him, he tried to play it off like it was for someone else. It would make him feel less guilty about his actions.

His eyes stayed sharp on your ass, pressed tightly against the leather of the material you were wearing. You were wearing such a short leather skirt, with a black lace bra, allowing people to only wonder what you had under the skirt. Every once in a while, your skirt would slightly lift up, giving a few people a view of the black lace panties you had on, that matched the bra you had.

Matt felt himself start to grow hard under his restricting jeans. He felt disgusted with himself. There had to be a bathroom, right? He could just run to the bathroom and back, before anyone even realized he left. They were too drunk and occupied to realize anyways.

Matt quickly stood up from his seat, and snuck into the crowd of people. He honestly hated being there. The place was crowded, loud, overwhelming, and now he was throbbing. He just wanted to go home. He tried staying as close to the walls as he could, assuming the bathroom would be connected to the wall. After walking for what seemed like forever, Matt was about to give up when he accidentally bumped into someone, much shorter than he was.

“Oh, fuck, ‘m sorry,” He mumbled, his voice quickly trailing off when he realized it was you that he bumped into. His eyes were no doubt trailing up and down your perfect body.

“That’s alright, pretty boy. Maybe if you kept your eyes where they belonged, you wouldn’t be running into people, hm?” You tilted your head, your hand finding its way to his chin, lifting it up, to make his eyes meet yours. You let out a small giggle as you realized just how flustered you made the boy. “Are ya lookin’ for somethin’, or just wandering around?” You asked curiously.

“I.. uh…” Matt trailed off, his eyes shamelessly looking down at his own jeans, the bulge clearly visible in his pants. “Bathroom..” He mumbled.

“Oh, baby..” You hummed. “That looks like it hurts so bad… Follow me, I’m sure I can make that pain go away,” You mumble, pressing your hand firmly against his pants, making him jolt under your touch. The way he was reacting let you know this poor boy was touch deprived. It wasn’t often that you would invite people to the back with you, it was usually them initiating first and offering money, which you almost never turned down. But this guy was different. He was hot as fuck, and he seemed to be around your age.

The boy nodded quickly, and you let a smirk cover your face. You took his hand in yours, as you swerved in and out of the large group of people in the crowded building. Matt was tense, and you could tell. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, though.

As you led him into one of the rooms in the back, his eyes widened. The room had LED’s lit red, and a pull out couch that was set up into a bed.

“Lay down for me..” You demanded, but then waited for him to tell you his name.

“M-matt,” The boy stuttered, as he laid down on the creaky bed.

“Okay, Matt. Good boy.” You cooed, looking at the boys flustered state. “Do you want me to fuck you, pretty boy?” You asked, as you got on the bed, beginning to hover over him, wanting to get permission before you do anything more.

“God, yes, please..” The boy whined, looking up at you with wide eyes. You nodded, and you took the opportunity to straddle his lap, your ass going right onto his boner. This caused the boy to let out a loud groan, as he gripped the sheets below him.

You leaned forwards, grinding your hips on the whining boy, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Want me to mark you up, baby?” You offered, and Matt hummed in response. You let a small giggle out, at the fact that Matt wouldn’t even open his mouth, or he’d moan. God, he’s so sensitive.

You moved your lips down to his jawline, placing small kisses there. As you continued to move down to his neck, the kisses became more and more rough; leaving dark marks behind. You continued to move your ass over Matt’s dick, and the boy was still moaning beneath you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was still a virgin, but you were still slightly surprised that he’s lasted this long already, by the state he was currently in.

“P-ugh, please-“ Matt moaned as his hips bucked up. ‘There you go’, you thought. You pulled his lips away from his neck, which was now basically half purple.

“Please what baby?” You teased, slowly running your hands along his clothed chest.

“I- Please, I need to..” He mumbled. He was so shy, it was so fucking awesome. You could tease him all day.

“Hm?” You hummed, and he whined loudly. You let out a small giggle, deciding you can be done teasing the helpless boy beneath you. “You need to cum, Matt? Is that it? Already?” You pouted, and Matt nodded. “In your pants, baby? Such a naughty boy.. Go ahead.” You permitted, and Matt groaned as his head flew back. He bucked his hips into you, and you began to feel a wet spot through his pants.

“Oh, god,” Matt moaned, as you stood off of him. He was out of breath, his chest heaving with his uneven breaths. “Fuck, you’re amazing.” He huffed.

“What? Never had sex before or something? Wait, please tell me you have-“ you started joking, but you quickly began to worry. Matt being a virgin isn’t an issue to you, nor does it bother you, you just definitely didn’t want to be his first time unless he wanted you to.

“Oh- No! I’m not,” He chuckled awkwardly. “I just.. recently broke up so.. haven’t done anything recently. Thats why i’m here, too. And im usually more of a dominant guy, so, thats why I said you’re amazing.” Matt sighed.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, sweetheart. Breakups suck.” You shook your head. How could someone break up with someone who’s heart was so pure? He was cute, too. You didn’t want to keep the conversation going, in case it would upset or make him uncomfortable. “Ya don’t seem to dominant to me, though, Matty.” You tilted your head and shrugged, placing your hands on the waistband of his pants and boxers, slowly tugging them down.

“I-I usually am-“ Matt faltered, as he lifted his hips off the bed, giving you much easier access to slip his unwanted clothing off.

“Yeah?” You teased, knowing you were clearly the dominant one here. The boy just nodded, and you yanked his pants and boxers all the way off. You stared at Matt’s cock in awe. It wasn’t the biggest you’ve ever seen, but it was pretty big, and girth. But unlike all the other one’s you’ve seen in the past, his was oddly.. pretty.

“W-why’re you looking at it like that.?” Matt asked confused, starting to get insecure.

“It’s pretty,” You chuckled. “and I dunno if I wanna suck it or ride it.” You hummed, and Matt whined.

“Please just ride me- I-I need to feel you,” He pleaded, and your eyes met his.

“Dominant. Huh.” You hummed, standing off of him.

“No- please, I-“ Matt fumbled, his hard cock leaking precum and its tip a throbbing red.

“Calm down, baby.” You chuckled, as your hands slipped to your back, allowing you to unclasp the lace bra you had on.

As Matt watched this action, he calmed down and went quiet. He nodded, and watched your tits spill out of the bra, the second you took it off. You threw it off to the corner, slipping your skirt off as well, leaving you in only your panties.

You crawled back onto the bed, and Matt’s hands immediately flew to your hips. You slipped his shirt off, so it wouldn’t get more sweaty than it had already been. He looked up at you with doe eyes, but then allowing his eyes to trail down your body.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking gorgeous,” He huffed, and you let out a small giggle.

“I could say the same for you.” You stated, your hand trailing down to his cock. You slid his tip through your soaked folds, causing you both to let out a small moan.

You sank slowly down onto the boys’ cock, letting out a loud whine as you did so. You slowly started to bounce, Matt grabbing harshly onto your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight-“ He mumbles, his head falling back.

“Holy shit, baby, you fill me up so good,” You hummed. Usually, you’d keep your dirty talk to a minimum (not that it stopped your other few customers here and there), but for Matt, you could make an exception.

Matt let out a small whine at the remark, and you knew the boy loves being praised. You could tell by the small almost inaudible noises he’d make after every sweet praise that would roll off of your tongue so sinfully.

His back arched, and he let out a loud groan as you continued your fast-paced bouncing. He let out strings of curses, his eyes finally meeting yours once again.

“P-please-“ Matt groaned, and as much as you wanted to make him beg for it, you didn’t know his boundaries, and you don’t want to push him. He releases inside of you, letting a loud moan loose. You bounce a few more times, before getting off of him.

“What..?” You ask him, as he gives you an odd look.

“You.. Um… You didn’t cum?” Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh- No! It’s nothing with you, I swear. Most men just.. Don’t care about female pleasure. They just use me for whatever and then want to leave, so that’s what I let them do.” You shrugged, used to the feeling by now.

“No, no, no.” Matt shook his head, standing up besides you. “I am not one of those men. You will not leave this room until you cum. Understood?” Matt grabbed your chin, making your eyes meet his.

His sudden chance in demeanor caught you very off-guard, and it honestly turned you on. How could such a whiny and needy boy turn into this within the matter of seconds? Nonetheless, you nodded, squeezing your thighs together subtly, trying to not let Matt notice.

He pulled your jaw closer, making your lips meet his. The two of you kissed, and you simply allowed Matt dominance, as he pushed you backwards to the bed you were just on moments before.

He pushed you back onto the bed, hovering over your much smaller body. He never broke the kiss once. His hands traveled down your body, gently rubbing along your sides and stomach, your thighs and arms. Everyplace he could touch, he was.

He pulled away from the kiss, flipping you over harshly, causing you to be laying on your stomach. He reached down, and pulled your ass up in the air, causing your hands and knees on the bed, your back perfectly arched,

“Fuck, ma, gonna take my cock like a needy slut? Huh?” He growled, slapping your ass harshly, causing you to let out a yelp in both surprise and a slight twinge of pain.

“Yes- just please, hurry up,” You whined out, causing Matt to chuckle.

“Needy little whore, can’t even wait a few minutes?” Matt tutted, gripping onto the base of his cock, sliding it through your slick folds a few times. Each time, he let his tip linger at your entrance, leaving you to wonder when he was really going to push in.

You so badly wanted to just push yourself backwards, forcing yourself onto his cock, but you know that would only end in a punishment for you. You let out a frustrated groan, and Matt took this opportunity to slam himself into you.

You gasped, and immediately became a moaning mess for him. His pace was much quicker than what you were bouncing on him at, and he was also hitting much deeper and in the right spots at this new angle.

“Fuck! Matt, Matt, Matt!” You chanted his name like a mantra, as he fucked deeper and deeper into you, keeping such a hard grip on your hips, you were sure it would bruise by the morning- or possibly even later tonight.

“Fuck, that’s it. Just keep taking my cock, like the slut you are, hm? Fuck, yeah. You’re taking me so, so well.” Matt mumbled, his hand following your leg, reaching your throbbing clit. He began rubbing in circular motions as he pounded into you at a relentless pace, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t had your last orgasm since a while ago, which was quite surprising, since ‘this’ was your job. You felt a slightly familiar knot tie in your stomach, this knot continuously getting tighter and tighter by the second, and you tried to warn Matt, knowing it would snap at any moment.

“M-Matt, cum!” You moaned, and without permission, you let yourself loose on Matt’s cock. He quickly pulled out, replacing his cock with his tongue, allowing you to ride out your high.

He had came as he was pulling out, and you pulled quickly away, as his tongue was quickly overstimulating you. He stood up, chuckling as he watched you collapse onto the bed, him doing the same next to me.

“I’m still technically at work, but.. I’d love to do that again sometime.” You shrugged, looking over at a cheesing Matt. “Why’re you smiling like that?” You questioned.

“You said most men don’t make you cum. I did,” Matt grinned, winking at you. “And, hell yeah. I’d fuckin’ love to do that again sometime.”

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

me cause im so so so incredibly bad at endings LMAO😭😭 but thank you sm for reading, and SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO ACC FINISH I LOST MOTIVATION HALFWAY THRU BUT I RLY LIKED THE IDEA SO I DIDN’T WANNA JUS GIVE UP😭

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #angst

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urhoneycombwitch · 7 months ago

Text

in sickness, to cherish

foreword: so excited to release this lil’ babe into the world. PTSD and trauma healing is of special interest to me, I hope you enjoy 💖 (p.s. from my limited research I don’t think they would have used a heart monitor for low-risk patients but it is literally integral to my plot so I’m breaking my anachronistic purity rule. soz)

wc: 3k

cw: descriptions of seizure, PTSD + hospital/medical trauma for the whole gang, brief mention of non-consensual drugging, R is referred to once as “Mrs” & “girlfriend”, angst w/ comfort

___

The mounted clock on the wall of the dingy Hawkins Memorial waiting room ticks over to nine PM, a brutal reminder that time (for everyone else, at least) has not, in fact, stopped.

Nine o’clock. As you pace from one end of the plastic chair-lined aisle to the other, you run the numbers in your head, fingers spastic at your sides- it’s nine right now, and Steve was admitted just after six, which means they’ve been running tests for three hours, even though the charge nurse said it should only take one…

”You wanna step outside for a smoke?”

Eddie speaks up from his seat at the end of the row, catching your bleary gaze before you’re turning on your heel again to complete your looping track.

His voice cuts smoothly over the buzzing fluorescents, the old television in the corner droning with last week’s news cycle; it’s enough to disrupt Robin from her half-sleep against Eddie’s shoulder, blinking into consciousness and stretching her stiff limbs as you respond.

“No, thanks.” Your hands slip to the inside of your elbows, squeezing through layers of soft cardigan in a near-bruise, feet continuing the rhythmic pacing. “You can go, though- I’ll make sure Robin comes to get you if anything happens.”

Eddie clears his throat, sinking back into the hard plastic, rings clicking at the armrests. “Nah, I’m good without one. Just thought you’d want a change of scenery, maybe some fresh air would calm-”

“I’m staying here.”

There’s a sharpness to your voice, a rarity- Robin winces, fingers in her lap twisting and fidgeting as she tries to change the subject. “God, Steve’s gonna be spitting mad when he wakes up. He’s the most doctor-adverse person I know.”

Eddie latches on to this with a humorless chuckle- “Stubborn bastard. Wouldn’t let those lab goons go near him, even after last year-”

“Fuck.” The swear comes from the bottom of your toes, even as you swivel on the balls of your feet to loop back in front of your friends; their faces snap to you, a blur of motion as you pass them again- “You’re right. Steve fucking hates doctors. I should’ve-”

Your next breath comes stilted, fingers a vice-grip on your own arms as you pace, pace, pace- “I should’ve treated this like taking a dog to a vet. Crushed up some pills in his food, or something- he never listens to me when I nag him about his hearing getting worse- do you know how many meals, how many glasses of water we share, every day?”

From the corner of your hazy vision, Robin’s gone still and pale, her voice tremulous- “I didn’t mean to imply- this isn’t your fault, you know-”

But you’re not ready to hear that, guilt surfacing like a sick wave, tears pooling, moments away from spilling over, voice trembling with anguish- “Could’ve been so easy, tell him we’re going for a ride, load him up into the passenger seat, he goes to sleep and I could’a passed him right off to a doctor, to someone who could have prevented this-”

Eddie rises from his seat to stand in the middle of your path, hands lifting to soothe and appease, but you’re still in flight mode, like a bird beating its wings against the confines of its cage.

You flinch away from his touch, standing with your back turned to them both, staring out the dark window, unseeing. “You know what Steve said to me? Right before he hit the ground? He said, ‘Don’t panic, I’m gonna pass out, try not to let my hair get too messed up.’”

An edge of misplaced humor draws a dry laugh from your throat. The dark window reflects your own face back- tear-streaked, red veins encroaching on the whites of your eyes- as you shake your head in disbelief. “He made a joke. To try and distract me from the fact that he was about to hit the ground and go all… all spastic-”

Unbidden flashes of memory surge to the forefront of your mind: victims of last spring. Twisted forms snapped at the bone, Max’s arms and legs bent at horrifying angles, plaster casts from head-to-toe, freckled face still and sallow against the starch-white hospital sheets-

A leather-jacketed form in the reflection behind you, Eddie’s hand solid on your back against the shuddering breaths wracking all the air from your lungs. You don’t flinch away this time.

Your beautiful boy. Steve. With his eye-crinkling smiles and sharp wit and gentle heart, stiff as a board in the middle of your living room, eyes rolled back in his skull like a downed deer, unreachable, just three hours ago.

“I thought it was Vecna. It’s been so long but I thought he’d come back, somehow, I was this close to running upstairs and grabbing our Walkman-”

”But you didn’t.” The hand at your back is joined by another at your arm as Eddie pulls you to face him, his gaze locking on your own, brown eyes full of grave compassion. “You heard the nurse. She said tipping him on his side was the best call you could’a made, sweetheart- you saved him.”

”But I didn’t know,” you insist, “I didn’t know that’s what would help, I just did it ‘cuz I was worried he was going to choke on his own tongue-”

“Semantics. You intuited it, then.” One of Eddie’s hands leaves your arm briefly to make a dismissive gesture through the air- “Which, in my book, is all the more impressive.”

Unconvinced, your voice small and tightening along with your chest- “What if this happens again, and he’s alone, this time? What if he’s working one of his three closing shifts a week, without Robin- what if he’s driving?”

You can’t help the spiraling of your thoughts, what-if scenarios jumping in line, each one more horrifying than the last.

Robin rises to stand beside Eddie, opens her mouth- to deny, to comfort, it’s unclear- but is interrupted by a new nurse who’s just appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Harrington?”

This snaps you back to earth, a bit, another watery laugh as Eddie takes a step back, allowing you to swipe at the mess of tears on your face before turning to the nurse- “Yeah. As good as, I guess. How’s he doing?”

With a last look at your friends, the nurse leads you down sickeningly-bright corridors while reading from a clipboard- most of it’s medical jargon, your foggy brain struggling to keep up as you stay on her heels.

What you gather, as you’re led to his room, is nothing new- Steve’s had a seizure, likely due to the trauma his brain incurred from the ‘earthquake’ of ‘86, and it’s unclear what triggered it, or if it’s likely to happen again.

“We’re going to keep him overnight, just to monitor his condition.” The nurse stops at a door labeled Room 202, hinges squeaking as she pushes it open. “He was really lucky, this time. Must’ve had a good guardian angel looking out for him.”

Heart thrumming thick in your throat, you almost ask the nurse to wait, to give you a second- maybe a quick bathroom break to splash some cold water against the tear-tracks, or even an extra few seconds to pretend at being stoic- but she’s already ushering you in with a kind smile.

The nurse pulls the door shut, and you’re left alone with the boy in the bed.

He looks exhausted, dark circles pulling at the soft skin below his eyes, which are full of relief, trained on you as you approach.

“Hey, there’s my girl.” There’s a scratchy quality to Steve’s voice, on its way to being lost.

You were doing really well, no crying or anything, before he spoke. But hearing him, paired with the awful sight of a medical cord wrapping around the width of his broad chest, has your face crumpling in an instant.

“Oh, shit. Aw, honey. C’mere-” Steve reaches for you, halfway to sitting up off his supporting pillows, and you quickly close the gap, sitting near his hip on the bed.

“No, hey- stay down,” you chide through the tears, pushing at the shoulder of his white hospital tee. “Don’t put any stress on your body.”

“Cut the stress, she says,” Steve grumbles, leaning back against the stack of pillows but compromising by pulling you in closer. “My baby’s crying, and she tells me no stress?”

His left palm slips over your cheek, thumb swiping away tears, while his right hand- IV taped flat over the back of it- slides to rest on your waist.

”Gonna tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

Under different circumstances, you’d laugh at his question- christ, where did he want you to start: but with that amber gaze so full of empathy, desperate to fix what’s making you sad, you’re stripped raw with sincerity.

”I was just- I was so scared, Steve-”

Steve pulls your face towards his, needily, a breath away from begging for a kiss before you lean in for one.

He tastes salty, like sweat and tears, lips plush and softly seeking against the seam of your own. Between the kisses, he’s mumbling apologies, “sorry, so sorry”, broken by the need to be as close to you as all the medical gear will allow.

There’s a soft noise from the back of his throat, and you pull away just enough to bump your nose into his, hands running up to push through the soft strands of his hair.

Steve practically purrs under your touch; you’re careful not to disturb the tubing wrapping around the length of his chest, leaning your weight into his shoulders instead.

A vein of hilarity spikes as you remember Steve’s last words before he went under: and here you were, fingers pulling at his dark roots, breaking his one request. When you start to giggle, Steve’s eyes pop open, baffled, hair sticking up at the ends when your fingers leave his hair. Both hands now squeezing at your hips, he feels left out of the joke- “What?”

“I just- nothing. Never mind. I’m really glad you’re okay.” It’s the truth. You frame his lovely face with your hands, kissing his forehead once before sitting up fully. “I don’t wanna fight about it here, okay? Let’s just focus on you feeling better, and then-”

“See, now, wait a minute-” Steve holds up a finger to interrupt. “You don’t get it. I’ve been hoping and praying for hours now that my pretty girlfriend would come in here just so we could have a good fight.”

He tweaks at the skin of your hips (with the IV-hand, so you can’t just smack it away, dammit), smiling up at you far too dreamily for someone reclining in a hospital bed.

Settling against the length of Steve’s torso, your arms cross over his stomach just under the tubing as you start, carefully- “You know, Max had one of these- when she was in the hospital?”

”Yeah, you’re right.” Steve’s hands worm their way under both your cardigan sleeves, seeking out the comfort of skin like a magnet- “Think it tracks heart rate. Or something.”

“Mm-hm. And… you know how she had to go to physical therapy three times a week? For, like, half the school year?”

Steve’s thumbs swipe absently at your wrists, a line pinched between his brows, trying to piece together your angle. “…yeah?”

“Takes a lot of time, to heal from something like that.” Your eyes drop to his chest, throat swelling with the effort of holding back a sob. “And I’m just- just thinking of all the times you might be alone, and how we could have prevented this, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey- shhh…” Steve soothes, shaking his head. “Honey, it was inevitable, okay? Nothing we could’a done. The doc told me this shit can happen, like, years after a big event. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Fighting against the wall of emotion that makes speaking harder, you return his head shake, desperate for understanding- “But you can’t promise that, baby. You had a seizure- an actual, medical emergency, and… we don’t know if it’ll happen again.”

With a purposeful straightening of your spine, you state, resolutely: “I want a different promise.”

Steve presses the crown of his head back into the pillows, melodramatic, resurfacing with a tsk. “So stubborn. What promise you want, then, huh?”

”I want you to promise that you’ll see a doctor- a real one. A head guy. Not some… family medicine quack.”

Steve grins, charming even while unusually pale- “I love it when you talk medical, really gets me going-”

He decides to bail on the rest of that sentence when he sees the flare of irritation on its way to real anger in your face, raising both hands in appeasement- “Okay. Hey- I promise to see a real head doc. I don’t intend on putting you through this again.”

WIth a sigh, you surge forward again, mumbling “Thank you” into Steve’s lips, a kiss of relief and gratitude. Best news you’ve heard all day.

His groans vibrate through you, hands running down the length of your side, near the bottom of your cardigan; you squeak at the intrusion of his cold palms on the bare skin of your waist but they warm quickly, and you’re willingly distracted as his tongue presses against the seam of your lips.

Perhaps not exactly hospital-appropriate, but as it’s been an evening full of adrenaline-filled panic and heartache, you figure some making out might be a good cure for the both of you.

“Won’t scare you like that again,” Steve says, lips already pink and spit-slick, intense and breathless as he clings to you between kisses- “Gonna be okay. You saved me, angel. Love you s’much…”

Your hand, previously resting on Steve’s knee, automatically slides up at his words, notching into the soft expanse of his inner thigh over the thin sheets- “Love you too, so much…”

A bright, electronic noise jolts into frantic beeping- the monitor that Steve’s hooked up to is loud enough to startle you into sitting up.

There’s no time to process or even rearrange yourselves before the nurse from earlier bustles into the room to glare at the machine’s screen; best you can do is a swipe across your mouth, hopefully hiding any evidence of moments-ago spit-swappage as you stammer out, “Um, yeah, sorry- h-he was trying to sit up and that set it off, I guess…?”

Steve lies placid and amenable against his pillows, giving the nurse a gold-medal grin, which unfortunately does nothing to allay her suspicions.

“Uh-huh.” The monitor alarm is stopped short with the press of a few buttons, and she gives Steve a sideways look, clipboard tucked under her arm- “You ready for your other visitors, Mr. Harrington, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Bring forth the party, Patricia.” Steve folds his hands behind his head, wincing when his IV gets bumped but covering it with a wink.

Nurse Patricia leaves. You cover your heated face, mortified- “Oh my god. She probably thought I was giving you a handjob or something, jesus, Steve-”

He’s outright laughing at you now, unable to help it- “Come on, no she didn’t. And even if she did…”

Steve is momentarily distracted, frowning down at his chest, following the monitor’s line to the machine; you watch through cracked fingers, his face lighting up, triumphant. “See, I bet if we unplug it from the wall same time as disconnecting it from here, we might be able to fit a handy under the radar, after all!”

Robin and Eddie enter the room just as you’re swatting Steve’s shoulder; over your subdued and mildly horrified laughter, he groans in faux-pain: “God, you two got here just in time. She’s beating me up for no reason.”

As Eddie settles into the plastic chair under the opposing wall’s window, you scooch down the mattress, patting the side closest to Steve with an encouraging smile at Robin.

She takes the seat, appreciative, her clammy hand slipping into yours for support as she addresses Steve: “Y’know, if you did this to get out of doing inventory this weekend, you could just say so.”

“You caught me, Robs,” Steve says, thumbing over her knuckles fondly. “Finally gonna join my conspiracy to make Keith’s life hell?”

You’re about to cut in, emphasizing that no one else should be making any hospital visits, when a metallic screech has the three of you on the bed whipping around.

Eddie’s managed to crack the barred window- judging by the sound, it hasn’t been opened since the 70s. He freezes with all the attention, then speaks around the cigarette clenched between his lips, suave again- “Pardon the interruption. Anyone else care for a smoke?”

Everyone in the room blinks at him, in various stages of disbelief; Steve starts laughing, first, which gets Robin going, and eventually you, too, until Eddie’s grinning around the cigarette, lighter halfway to his mouth as he chuckles- “Well, can’t say I didn’t offer…”

Robin makes a comment about nicotine fumes, which quickly devolves into her and Eddie fiercely bickering.

The elevated chatter of your friends fades into the background as Steve takes your hand atop the sheets, head tilted to get you in his line of sight again- love you, he mouths.

Love you, too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader

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lynzishell · 4 months ago

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The Past 💛 Atlas

Now that I’ve spoken it out loud, I can’t ignore the strangeness around Ash anymore. The nightmares, the flashes of memory that don’t belong to me, and now, what feels like someone else’s words coming out of my mouth.

I’ve decided to keep some distance until I can figure this out, even if the very idea of it has me twisted up in knots.

As usual, when I arrive at work, he’s already there, joking around with Evan and Lex. I make a point to walk back by the windows to my desk, so I won’t have to face him. I know I’ll need to talk to him eventually, but I have no idea what I’m going to say, and now doesn’t seem like the time or place to say it anyway.

So, I avoid him. I avoid the situation. I avoid myself.

I sit at my desk, put my earbuds in, and I retreat to a familiar place deep within. And I work. I work through lunch despite the protests from my stomach. I don’t stop working until six o’clock, long past when Ash usually leaves. I don’t know if he tried to say hello or goodbye. I don’t even remember the day.

When I finally look up, the office is nearly empty, and the sun has just started to sink toward the horizon.

Rather than taking my usual route home, I take a right out of the building and head toward the gym. No one else is going tonight, but that's fine. I just need to think, and I think best when I'm climbing or running.

But I only make it two blocks before I hear his footsteps behind me, moving quickly along the wet concrete as he tries to catch up. I hadn’t even realized it rained today. The sky is clear now, but the moisture has left the air feeling sticky and unseasonably warm.

My heart jumps when I feel his hand tap my shoulder even though I was expecting it. I take a breath and turn to face him.

“Hey,” his greeting is like a hand reaching into a dark well, reaching down to try and pull me up from where I’ve retreated deep inside myself. His eyes search the darkness in mine. I can’t tell if he can see me or not.

He squints slightly and I know then that he can’t. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” I say automatically.

“Everything’s fine?”

“Yeah.”

He squints harder, and the corners of his mouth pull down into a frown, “Did I do something wrong?”

The confusion in his voice twists at my stomach and I have to focus on staying upright, on keeping all the muscles in my face and shoulders relaxed. It’s not easy, but I’ve had two decades of practice and I’m better at it than I’d like to admit. “No,” I say simply. Keeping my answers short to keep the emotion out of them.

Then it happens. I watch as his eyes harden like stones. This is it. This is when I fuck everything up. I can feel it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But maybe it’s for the best. I can’t risk him getting close to me.

“Atlas, what the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Do you think I’m stupid?”

The sharpness in his tone makes me flinch, cracking my armor, and I feel my brows pull together, “No,” emotion sneaks into my voice, drawing out the word.

“Atlas, I—” he seems to struggle for a moment. I wait, desperate to reach out to him, to put my hand on his arm and reassure him, but I’m trapped. My armor has become a cage, as it so often does. Helpless, I listen as he tries again, “I like you, a lot, and we had a really great time the other night, but… you said you’d call and you didn’t, which is fine, like, people get busy, it’s whatever… but you’ve spent the entire day acting like I don’t exist and now you’re telling me everything is fine, acting as if nothing happened, making me feel like I’m fucking delusional or something. Do you have any idea how awful that feels?”

Yes. I feel myself deflate, a wave of shame pouring over me. I don’t think I can hate myself more than I do in this moment, realizing that I am indeed my mother's son. “I’m sorry,” I try to infuse as much sincerity into the words as I can, but they still fall flat.

“Right. You wanna tell me what’s going on then?”

“I can’t do this, Ash, I’m sorry. I think we should just be friends.” I let it out in a rush, unable to look him in the eye.

“Friends?”

I nod.

“You know, a ‘friend’ would’ve had the decency to talk to me about this rather than avoiding me.”

“I know, I’m—”

“Sorry. Yeah. I got that. Can you tell me why?”

“Because…” I sigh, grabbing on to the only explanation I can think of that makes any sense, “because we work together. I just… I don’t date people I work with.” It’s not necessarily a lie. I usually don’t consider my co-workers part of the eligible dating pool. But maybe if things were different, I’d’ve made an exception.

“You don’t date people you work with?”

“That’s right.”

He scoffs, “This would’ve been good information for you to share with me a lot sooner. I really don’t appreciate being led on.”

“I know, I didn’t mean… I got caught up. I shouldn’t have. I really am sorry.”

His head drops away from me, “Yeah, me too,” he says to the ground more than me, nudging a rock with his shoe. “So, friends then? That’s what you want?”

No. “Yes.”

He nods, still looking at the ground as he takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He finally looks back up at me, his eyes shining, not with their usual playfulness and excitement, but with tears threatening to spill over. I’ve hurt him. “Okay,” he says again, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He turns around abruptly before I can respond and starts walking away.

I stand there for a moment, stunned. Everything about this feels wrong. I want to take it back. And I nearly call out to him, tell him to wait, that I didn't mean it. But then he reaches a hand up, wiping his face, and I stop myself. I've done enough damage already.

I was wrong earlier. It turns out I can hate myself more.

Prev // Next

#i hate it here #is he being noble or a coward #i can't decide #ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt4 #past #atlas stephens #asher goode

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theficpusher · 26 days ago

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They Just Don't Know You by mukeandziamgotmelike | nr | 1306 //So, oh, tell me, tell me you won't break my heart. That you won't tear my world apart. That you'll be there when I need, cause I wanna tell them they just don't know you, they just don't know you, they just don't know you, they don't know you like I do.// -OR- Liam has been dating Zayn for months, and still, for some reason, no one approves of him. It's annoying, and Liam wishes they would stop. He doesn't know why they don't trust Zayn, but he just wants to tell them that they just don't know him like he does.

Screaming But Daddy I Love Him by Wishingforloushair | E | 21873 Harry has always tried to be the perfect Christian boy his religiously fanatic mother demands him to be. At seventeen he's never eaten fast food, drunk coffee (unless it was decaffeinated) or touched himself. That is until he meets Louis, one of the church's youth musicians. With his 'I Heart Jesus' stickers on his beaten up guitar case, his band (The Redemption Riffs), and his taste for good quality coffee, Louis' relationship with God is entirely different to Harry's, and Harry is positive that Louis is either a divine vessel, or Heaven-sent. Prepared to worship at Louis' feet, Harry is ready to learn a whole different way of worship and devotion with Louis' help. “That’s coffee,” he remarked, pointing at the dark substance in the other boy’s cup. “Yes, it is,” Louis said, taking a sip from it, his eyes fixed on Harry. “Is it decaffeinated?” Louis raised an eyebrow, putting his mug down. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you it is?” “Lying is bad.” “Then, no, it’s not decaf. I don’t drink decaf coffee because it tastes awful.” “But,” Harry swallowed, glancing over his shoulder before leaning forwards. “Drugs are bad,” he whispered.

What Side Of Love Are You On? by FallingLikeThis | T | 25000 Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. Suddenly, Harry’s heart is being pulled in two very different directions. On one side is the sweet, caring woman he has fun with, but doesn’t know his mother chose for him. On the other is a man who seems to be his mother’s worst nightmare, but makes Harry’s heart flutter in ways he’s never felt before. When all is said and done, maybe they’ll all learn that when there is no clear path to go down, the best option is to follow your heart. A Because I Said So Au with a bisexual twist.

but daddy i love him by wanderlou | nr | 28924 Someone cleared their throat and they all turned to the person; Charles. “I cannot and will not support this marriage.” “But Daddy…I love him,” Louis pouted. Or the one where Harry and Louis are getting married and Louis' dad hates Harry. Harry does everything to try and earn his respect during the wedding weekend.

adrenaline by reveries_passions | M | 38208 “Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay. ~ louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline. harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school. or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

Counterbalance by YesIsAWorld | E | 44777 Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

your memory over me by shimmeringevil | E | 64355 Three years have passed since Louis last saw him, but all it took was a few minutes in Harry’s presence for him to be relegated to the desperate twenty-one year old that was practically begging his boyfriend for an ounce of reassurance that he still cared about him. Harry shouldn’t be here. He’s brought too many unresolved feelings with him, that Louis thought he’d never have to face. It’s Harry’s apparent apathy that’s the most difficult to come to terms with. Anger, he could handle. Regret, he would welcome. But Harry’s amiability, and carefree demeanor can only be born from indifference. He’s moved on. He doesn’t care. And that is something Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever be strong enough to face. - OR - The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

Of Mates and Men by bananaheathen | E | 630460 In which, Louis and Harry meet as best men for their best friends' wedding... well... sort of. Or, the one where Harry's just moved back from New York and Louis doesn't believe in romance. Or, I guess... the one where Zayn and Liam are getting married.

#parents #Of Mates and Men #bananaheathen #your memory over me #shimmeringevil #counterbalance #yesisaworld #adrenaline #reveries_passions #but daddy i love him #wanderlou #What Side Of Love Are You On?#FallingLikeThis #Screaming But Daddy I Love Him #Wishingforloushair #They Just Don't Know You #mukeandziamgotmelike

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brainddeadd · 14 days ago

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baby devil just so confused because she remembered how sweet and kind matt is to her and her friend once but now he is being a jerk to her team but still nice to her. maybe after one of the devils rangers games he waiting for her outside the locker room and he asked her to come with him and they get food or something

Rivalries and Dinners

Y/N has always had a great relationship with Matt Rempe. He was sweet and friendly when they met through mutual friends, even helping her out during her early days in the league. But lately, things have gotten tense during games, especially as Matt plays for the rival Rangers. His attitude on the ice is completely different—he’s rough with her teammates, instigating fights and playing the role of an enforcer for his team. What confuses Y/N is that despite his aggressive actions toward the Devils, Matt still treats her kindly whenever they interact. During the last game, she caught him staring at her, a concerned look in his eyes, but when it came to her teammates, he wasn’t holding back.

The guys—Jack, Nico, Luke, and Dawson—are wary. They can sense something’s off with Matt’s behavior, especially when he seems to be trying to get Y/N’s attention. After one particularly brutal Devils-Rangers game where Matt picks a fight with Jack, Y/N watches helplessly from the bench as tensions boil over. Matt was once kind to her, but seeing him throw punches at her teammates makes her stomach twist.

After the game, as Y/N heads to the locker room, she’s surprised to find Matt leaning against the wall outside, waiting for her. Her first instinct is to turn around, but curiosity gets the better of her. Before she can say anything, Matt gives her a small smile, his earlier aggression completely gone.

"Y/N," Matt says softly, stepping closer. "You wanna grab a bite? Just the two of us. I figured… we could catch up."

Her eyes narrow, feeling conflicted. Why is he being so friendly now? He was just fighting with her teammates not too long ago. The conflicting personalities—gentle with her but a jerk on the ice—leave her in a haze of uncertainty. “I don’t know… It’s kinda weird with how things have been,” she admits, fidgeting.

Matt shrugs, unfazed. "I promise, no hard feelings off the ice. It’s just part of the game, Y/N."

Despite the awkwardness, she agrees to go, mostly out of curiosity but also to get some answers. They walk together to grab food, and as they talk, Matt’s kindness returns, leaving Y/N even more confused. He’s acting like the guy she knew before—sweet, attentive, joking about old times. But in the back of her mind, she can’t shake the image of him going after Jack and Luke earlier in the game.

Meanwhile, the Devils’ locker room is buzzing with worry. Y/N didn’t return with them, and after some checking around, it’s clear she left with Matt. The guys exchange worried glances. Jack is pacing, his jaw tight. "Where did she go with him? That guy's a jerk on the ice—what if he’s pulling something?"

Luke leans back in his chair, equally concerned. "We can’t just let him get away with it if he’s messing with her. What if he hurts her? Mentally or…"

Dawson crosses his arms, already planning a search party. "We gotta make sure she's okay. Someone has to call her."

Nico, the team captain and arguably the most level-headed, tries to calm everyone down. "Look, Y/N’s smart. She’ll handle it. But we need to let her know we’ve got her back. If Rempe’s just messing with her head, we’ll make sure she knows who to trust."

As Matt and Y/N sit down for dinner, she finally decides to confront him. "Matt, what’s the deal? One minute you’re fighting my teammates, the next you’re being nice to me. It’s confusing."

Matt sighs, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, it’s the rivalry between our teams. I don’t have anything against you or your guys personally, but I’ve got a job to do on the ice. It’s different off the rink though. I don’t want that to get in the way of us… you know, hanging out."

Y/N nods slowly, still unsure. She likes Matt as a friend, but the tension between him and her teammates is impossible to ignore. "It’s just hard to separate the two sometimes. They’re my family, Matt. It’s not easy seeing you act that way with them."

Matt gives her a sympathetic look, reaching out to touch her hand gently. "I get it, Y/N. I’m not trying to make things hard for you. But if you ever need a break from all the rivalry stuff, you can come to me. No pressure, okay?"

Y/N eventually returns to the team, texting Nico, Jack, and the others to let them know she’s safe. When she steps into Jack's apartment, and the concerned expressions on their faces say it all. Jack is the first to speak up, crossing his arms with a frown. "So, how was your little date with Rempe?"

Y/N rolls her eyes. "It wasn’t a date, Jack. We just talked."

Luke steps forward, looking serious. "You know we’ve got your back, right? If he’s messing with you…"

Y/N smiles softly. "I know, guys. He’s not. It’s just… complicated. But thanks for worrying about me."

Nico nods, the tension in the room easing. "We’re your family, Y/N. We’ll always worry about you."

As the group settles down, Y/N realizes how much the Devils mean to her. Despite Matt’s confusing actions, her bond with the team remains unbreakable. They’ll always have her back, no matter what.

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candyskiez · 1 year ago

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fuck it. belos and grimwalker analysis time. before this starts, I wanna make this clear that this is a "belos is horrible bad terrifying" post. if you're looking for "belos is a sad pained man who deserved a redemption arc", you are REALLY in the wrong place. got it? great, good. let's get started.

I think, at the end of the day, the reason belos made the grimwalkers was to simulate connection. he wanted to fill the urge of someone taking care of him like caleb did when he was "good." he wanted someone with all the "good" traits caleb had, all the "right" parts of him, the perfect version of him he'd created that he believes evelyn "stole" from him. but making the grimwalkers like caleb wasn't the only reason.

he wanted someone to like him. who takes care of him, who feels bad for him. hes trying to simulate a close relationship he can't have with demons or witches since in his twisted world view, they're not people. they're horrible and sinful. so are grimwalkers, but they're slightly more bearable. he's essentially using them as a substitute for human connection as well as trying to 'save' caleb. to take care of him, to feel bad for him, to compliment him more personally, to spend time with. he was essentially trying to fill the void he himself created by being a piece of shit. he's trying to make someone that loves him "unconditionally." but his definition of unconditional isn't "I will never stop loving you." it's "I will believe you're always right." which is insanely unrealistic and insanely unhealthy. he essentially wants someone who spoon feeds him constant reassurance that yes you are perfect and do no wrong. he wants someone to constantly validate his horrific world views and tell him hes good , so he never has to stand still for too long and think about what he's done.

onto the "saving caleb" part.

his definition of saving caleb isn't saving him from danger. it's making him Perfect. it's making him hate witches, it's making him prioritize HIM above all else, it's making him not have a life outside him, it's essentially getting rid of all his flaws. whether it be actual flaws or things literally only belos considers flaws. his idea of perfection is unattainable. and also massively fucked up, but you already knew that. he wants a caleb that never fails, never disagrees with him, takes care of him, adores him, protects him, has no life outside of him, and will never ever leave. he never grew at all from the world view he was raised in, despite having centuries to do so. he separates the "good" parts of caleb and the "bad" parts of caleb into two completely different people. he tries to recreate "good" caleb. he has no care for the consequences or "caleb's" mental or physical well being. only if "caleb" is with him and agrees with him.

he has no care for the consequences of committing genocide against an entire world. only if it means that everything was worth it and caleb was wrong and philip was right. only if it means he's right. he's tunnel vision and a horrible bigot and so so in that deep end.

he didn't get redeemed because he chose to never ever admit he was wrong. he had no desire to admit he's wrong or to change. all he cared about, all he ever cared about, was two things.

1. being right.

2. his brother agreeing that he was right.

he doesn't care about anything else except for himself and the made up version he has of his older brother. he refuses to let his brother change, because that means considering if he has to.

belos is so horrifically fucked up and that's what makes him such an excellent character.

#toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #owl house spoilers #the owl house #toh #owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #caleb wittebane #grimwalkers #candy meta

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astorytotellyourfriends · 10 months ago

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First off, sorry you're having a bad brain day for anything. Secondly, maybe Hellcheer have been on the same bus and totally *not* noticed each other but then “We’re on the bus and I’m really not trying to take up your space I’m sorry I just have really really long legs” Use any of that you like. :D

aww thank you!! i appreciate u 💛 and as a fellow long-legged individual, i relate to eddie's struggle lmao

also this turned out way longer than i expected so enjoyyy

Eddie's relieved to have snagged the last empty row of seats on the already-crowded bus. He knows this route well enough to know his stop is far from the busiest, so getting a seat at rush hour is close to winning the goddamn lottery.

Every person who got onto the bus after him purposefully avoids taking the seat next to his, which amuses him more than it offends him. He knows someone is eventually going to be brave enough to sit down next to the scary guy with long hair, but maybe he'll get through a stop or two before it happens.

For the time being, he takes advantage of the space and stretches his right leg into the footwell of the empty seat. He lets out a soft groan of relief and rolls his neck from side to side, already thinking about how good it's going to feel to collapse into bed when he gets home.

When the bus rolls up to the next stop, Eddie doesn't move his leg. Anybody who spots the empty seat takes one look at him and hurriedly looks for somewhere else to sit, bringing a grin to his face.

His plan's working out pretty fucking well, actually.

Until someone gets onto the bus who doesn't look away. She makes her way down the aisle and up the steps so quickly that Eddie just barely has time to move his leg to let her sit down.

"Thank you," she whispers as she pulls her bag off of her shoulder and sets it on her lap.

"Y-Yeah," he says, offering her a smile as he struggles to fit his stupidly long legs in the small space between his seat and the one in front.

Fuck, have they always been this small?

Eddie clears his throat and looks away from her, propping his arm up on the ledge next to the window and trying to focus on the outside world rather than the pretty girl next to him. He's seen her before on this bus, but only in passing. He's tried not to stare at her, not wanting to get caught being a creep, but there's just something about her that keeps drawing him back in.

He tries to look at her out of the corner of his eye, his curiosity piquing when he thinks for a moment that she might be looking at him, too.

No, she's probably looking out the fucking window, you idiot!

Eddie turns his head as nonchalantly as he can, and to his surprise he catches her looking right at him. She blushes and drops her eyes down to her lap, but Eddie's so taken aback that he completely forgets how to function. His right knee knocks into her leg and they both jump at the collision.

"Shit, sorry!"

"I-It's okay, really--" She laughs a little as he tries to twist himself up like a pretzel to give her more room. "You don't have to."

"Don't wanna encroach on what little space you have," he says with a chuckle, somehow sounding way more cool than he feels right now.

She offers a little shrug his way and smiles. "I'm pretty tiny, so. Feel free."

Eddie laughs. Is she serious?

She twists to the right, offering him half her leg space, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Really, I'll survive."

"I don't mind," she insists.

Eddie sighs, laughing softly as he admits defeat. "Okay, okay."

He moves his right leg, groaning a little as his knee pops. She presses her hand to her mouth, probably to hide a laugh, and Eddie chuckles under his breath.

They both stay quiet as the bus makes another stop, and as someone passes by their seats, the girl's leg presses up against Eddie's. He doesn't say anything and neither does she, but he figures once the bus starts moving again, she'll pull away.

But she doesn't.

"I'm Eddie, by the way," he murmurs, ducking his head and leaning towards her. She turns her head and smiles as she offers her hand.

"Chrissy."

"Nice to meet you," he replies as he shakes her hand.

"Likewise. I, umm, I like your rings."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie lets go of her hand to show off his right, wiggling his fingers as she laughs.

"Yeah. They're cool." Chrissy gently touches his fingers to admire the rings and then looks up at him with a smile. "They suit you."

Eddie grins. "Thank you."

He doesn't pull his hand out of her grasp, and it takes a minute or so for her to seemingly remember she's holding it. She blushes even more than before, and now Eddie finds it impossible to look away. He compliments her sweater and they fall into a simple, easy conversation as the bus continues on.

Eddie's so wrapped up in talking to Chrissy that he almost misses his stop. He just happens to glance up at the front of the bus as it pulls up to the curb, and he curses under his breath.

"I gotta--" he says, gesturing to the door as people around them start shuffling around to let other passengers off.

"O-Oh," Chrissy says as she rushes to get up. Eddie's loath to leave her, but he squeezes past anyway.

"I'll, uhh, see you around," he says, wrapping his hand around the nearest pole to stay upright amidst the wave of people climbing off the bus.

"Yeah," she says with a smile. "I hope so."

Eddie offers her a wave as he joins the shuffle out the door, kicking himself the moment he steps onto the sidewalk.

You could've just stayed on the fucking bus. What's a couple more stops to keep talking to a pretty girl? You'll probably never see her again now, you fucking--

"Eddie?"

He whips around, hardly having gone more than ten steps away from the bus stop, and there she is.

"Do you, umm..." Chrissy hitches her bag up onto her shoulder and laughs bashfully as she tucks her hair behind her ear. "Do you maybe want to get coffee?"

A wide grin spreads across Eddie's face.

"Hell yeah, I'd love to."

#hellcheer #eddissy #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer fic #answered #darcylightninglewis

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femoso-seben · 1 year ago

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Immortal Shenanigans

Chapter 2: Bullets and Pots

pt.1 pt.2, pt. 3

You stare at them. And they stared at you. You grow and twist your arms until the rope becomes loose. You really had to remove the bullet from your head. You violently dislocated your shoulder and pulled your left hand free.

You throw your head forward dislodging the bullet in your head. You reach into the hole pull out the bullet and drop it onto the ground. You rotate your neck before freeing your other arm.

“You know it’s impolite to shoot someone from that distance.” You hum as the hole in your head begins to close. “Next time shoot me up close, so the bullet doesn’t get stuck.”

You reach down untie your feet, stand up, and walk toward the group. “What with those expressions? It seems like you're seeing a zombie—“

Bang!

Another bullet hits you point blank in the face. You fall backward as they lay more bullets into your body. They quietly stare at each other before leaving, your eyes open and you stand up in the empty… where were you?

It didn’t matter you picked up your bag and left. As you leave the large room you hear a low voice talking. We’re they still here? Might as well scare the shit out of them.

“Hey,” you round the corner as a bullet hits you in the heart. You stare down at the hole in your chest. “That’s not very nice.” You look up shaking your head.

“How the fuck are you still alive?”

“I’m immortal.”

“We killed you.”

“You tried.”

They stared at you with horror in their eye. You were still alive. I looked down at their map, they were planning something.

“Mmh, colonizing shit, you make your ancestors proud.” You look up at the British military men. They give you a cold look.

Ghost raises his gun, “Don’t waste your bullets on me.” You say not looking at him. “We both know it won’t work.” He slowly lowers his gun and looks down at you.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m Egyptian…. I’m from Egypt. This is my home territory.” You’d rate the obvious.

“How old are you?” Soap folds his arm curious about the answer.

“About 5,000 years old.” You casually stare looking down at your ruined clothes. “I was born a little after Egypt was unified. So about 5,000 years old.” You looked him in the face.

“How are you still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“How don’t you know?”

“We didn’t have science back then!” I shout at Soap.

“I’m older than your Goddamn country, show me some respect!”

“You act like a bratty child.” Ghost hums looking at you with annoyance.

“I am still 20, there’s a dichotomy, between my age and my mental age. I’ve been through a lot and processed it like a 20-year-old.” You explain. The mustache man nods somewhat understanding.

“You do act your age.”

“What you guys doing?” You stand on your tippy toes trying to catch a glimpse of what they're doing. They move to block your view.

“This is private information.”

“Geez ok,” you put your hands up, “it’s not like I’m gonna retain that information. It’s not important to me.”

“Why do you wanna know then?”

“Because I’m nosy,” you shrug. In this decade you decided to be the most immature person ever, to truly act your mental age. A little dumb and completely insufferable.

“Anyways I need to head back… I’m thinking the lady I’m staying with is looking for me.” You begin to walk off, humming a tune so old it was ingrained in your very soul.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“Back to my Airbnb,” you turn around spreading your arms to the mustache man. “Don’t worry I won’t mention you, all four of you aren’t worthy to be remembered.” You give them a bow and Waltz out.

You have rented the Airbnb for a month. you open the door and set your bag down. If the police are looking for you, you're going to have to call in and clear up the misinformation. You take a shower and change to less damaged bloody clothes.

“Hey is this the police?… this is yn… I wasn’t missing just went on a spiritual journey without my phone… sorry for the inconvenience… of course, I’ll tell someone next time.” You hung up, bored and slightly numb.

You should call in that temple site, and get your pots in a museum; not the British Museum, but a local one. You found the right phone number of an old colleague.

“Hey is mister Renfield there? Yes, this is Sofia, Mary’s daughter. Me and my mother stumble across a hidden temple.” News travels fast and you soon we’re back in your temple this time willingly and unstuck.

“Sofia,” you look up.

“Look at these pots, they are your specialty,” Benjamin said. He was an archeologist from America helping with the dig.

“These are in great condition,” you hum, of course, they are. Nobody touched them but you. “These artifacts might tell us more about this temple.”

“This site gonna be a new tourist attraction.” You smile but deep inside you hate the idea of random people ruining your sacred temple.

You walk the street at night. You didn’t need sleep, you didn’t need food, you didn’t need water. But you like those things, they make you feel more mortal more human. You found it ironic you wanted to be human again when for many years you’ve seen yourself as a god amongst men.

“These pots look expensive.” You froze and looked to your right.

“We can sell this to the British Museum.”

Hell no!

You begin to walk down the alleyway, those pots— must have come from your site. Those were your pots, nobody else but yours. You found three men packing them into boxes.

“What do you think you're doing with my pots?” You coldly asked in Arabic. They turn to you like deer in headlights. One pulls out a gun and threatens to shoot. You stare at them coldly arms folded.

“Back off bitch!”

“Why?” You walk closer and they frown. They turn to each other and begin to speak another language.

You could understand them. They were talking about your looks. They could sell you. Or harvest your organs. You frown if they discover your immortality they keep you as a slave.

“Human trafficking?” They froze and turned to you horrified. You knew the second language too. You pull out your tactical whip and hit the one with the gun. You took the gun and turned it on them.

“Take me to your hideout.” You demand. You will take all the artifacts they have stolen back. They slowly took you to an abandoned warehouse at the end of the city. They tried to take the gun back but your whip took good care of their attempts.

It hurt like hell and it culled their attempts to fight you. You knocked out both men, with one hard punch and tied them up with the rope you carried in your bag. You enter the abandoned warehouse. It was mostly empty, besides the shit tone of guns, but you didn’t care for that.

“Damn, what is this? An incels’ wet dream?” You mutter staring at the boxes of guns.

You walk around taking in all the stuff. Most of it was military, not your problem. You found your artifacts all in a single box with little care put into it. You deer in frustration. You pull out your phone to call in the stolen items and the military-grade gun.

“Hello, police?”

“Price over here.” Your voice does as you slowly lookout to find those four military men. You end the call and stand up.

“Hey.”

Bang!

“Hey, these pots are old!” You yell back trying to protect the box.

“What are you doing here,” mustache man roars in anger.

“Stolen museum pots!”

“How can we trust you?” They all had their guns pointed at you. You roll your eyes.

“I’m an archeologist first, a historian second, and a bitch lastly. I don’t give a shit about your damn mission only these pots!” They turn to each other. Was she for real? They look at you. Yes, she is.

“Alright you're here for pots, how did you get here.”

“Two looters try to steal my temple pot.”

“How did you take out two men?”

“Tactical whip,” you hold up your metallic whip. Soap sighed and the mustache man simply covered his eyes.

“Does it work?”

“Very well.”

“I’m going to call the police—“

“No, we’re going to call the military.” Mustache man interrupted you. You sigh and stretch your arms.

“Alright, when they get here just tell them that box is historically important.” You pick up your stuff and begin to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“You guys got this handle, and I still need to report another problem.” You wave your hand.

“Let’s not meet up again.” You state as you leave the warehouse.

You called in the temple pot theft and your colleagues explained the frustrating situation. Looters are the first enemy of knowledge and history.

Bang!

You fall forward and your world turns black.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #cod #call of duty #141 #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #pots because archeology

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