#I should clarify that no one is dying!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wileys-russo · 1 month ago

Text

pass outs and paperwork II fresa putellas (oc) x solstråle engen (oc)

the people have spoken - a little fresa x sol fic set in the future after they’ve gotten together written by @girlgenius1111 and i for your enjoyment! pass outs and paperwork II fresa putellas (oc) x solstråle engen (oc)

“and you’re sure i have to do this?” sol sighed heavily, refusing to make a move from the passenger seat as mapi cut the engine off, having parked right outside the clinic. “sí mi sol, unless you would rather go back to the doctor and-” the norwegians seatbelt was undone and she practically flew from the car making mapi chuckle.

“can we get a coffee first? we should get a coffee first.” sol tried to run and was stopped in her tracks by the shorter spaniard in front of her. “no you have to fast you know this nena. i reminded you, ingrid reminded you and i know fresa reminded you. clinic first, coffee later, i will even buy you lunch after.” mapi patted her back, turning her around and lovingly pushing her forward toward the clinic.

“oh wait, my phone! i left my phone in the car mapi i have to go back and get it." sol scoffed again trying to turn back as mapi hummed knowing it was a lie, shaking her head and turning her back around, a slightly harsher shove forward this time.

sol couldn’t even take her time entering as the doors were of course automatic, opening by themselves the moment she was within a foot's distance, mapi’s hands on her shoulders still walking her forward despite their obvious height difference the defender was stronger than she seemed.

“vamos solstråle, that nurse there is cute eh? should we go talk to her?” mapi teased making sol roll her eyes, the norwegian's girlfriend not having noticed them come in yet as she sat typing away at the front desk.

“she’s not technically a registered nurse yet actually she-'' sol started, words dying in her mouth as fresa heard her voice and looked up, smiling in their direction as the older girl's knees buckled making mapi snort with amusement and mutter some sort of teasing remark under her breath.

“bon dia! i will not lie maría, i really did not think you would get her here." fresa grinned as the pair arrived in front of her, only three other people sat in the waiting room. “hey!” sol frowned as her girlfriend sent her a wink, reaching under the desk and grabbing out a clipboard with a new patient's form and a pen.

“fill this in then bring it back over and we’ll head back, don’t lie on it solstråle.” fresa warned, a perfectly manicured finger held up menacingly as her girlfriend's eyes rolled and she grabbed the clipboard, the younger girl blowing her a kiss and turning back to the monitor in front of her.

“dios mio you really see the alexia in her as she gets older don’t you? i thought it was bad when she was a niña but now she is so bossy, just like her hermana!” mapi tutted as the pair sat down in the waiting room, sol starting to fill in the new patient sheet with a hum.

“translate please.” the norwegian gave in with a defeated sigh after struggling through the first two questions, shifting the clipboard onto the defender's knee and handing her the pen.

it shocked her that mapi barely had to check anything with her, near flawlessly filling in all of her health details and only clarifying a few small things here and there when the defender wasn’t sure.

“acabado. now go give it to that cute bossy nurse!” mapi handed her back the clipboard with a smirk anna wink as sol shot her a dirty look. “yeah yeah she’s not a nurse, now hurry up i’m hungry!” mapi mocked, shooing for her to go, pulling out her phone as the girl stood.

“you’re hungry? i’m the one whose fasting! you ate two dinners last night!” the younger girl scoffed as the spaniard just impatiently waved her off toward the front desk.

“gracias amor!” fresa sang out, plucking the paper from the girl's grasp, setting it down in front of her and beginning to quickly type everything into their system to set her up with a clinic profile.

“you look very pretty today.” sol smiled charmingly, resting her chin on her fist as her girlfriend glanced up in amusement with a small smile.

“you look pretty everyday.” “you look prettier.” “you’re the prettiest.” “you look prettier than the prettiest so-”

“excuse me this is a work environment not a bar, be professional putellas no flirting with the patients!” fresa rolled her eyes as one of her coworkers, carmen, joined her, watching with a grin as sol's face flushed bright red in embarrassment and she quickly straightened up from where she’d been leaning against the front desk.

“ignore her cari. she is just joking, jealous and hopelessly lonely.” fresa teased her friend with a sarcastic pout who pulled a face back, the catalan sending her girlfriend a wink as she finished inputting her information into their system.

“vale. ready?” the younger girl pushed back out of her chair, swapping out with her coworker who sent sol a kind smile and took her seat at the monitor, fresa moving out from the front desk. “no.” the norwegian mumbled nervously under her breath, following slowly after her girlfriend as mapi joined them, the trio heading out of reception and toward the collection rooms down the hall.

“go into this one here. solstråle mi amor up on the bench and take your hoodie off por favor, mapi you sit down in that chair, and i will be just a minute." fresa slid open a door on the right and gestured inside. “oh and don’t touch anything maría, i mean it.” the youngest putellas warned seriously, closing the door again and leaving the pair alone.

“see! diablillo. so bossy, just like alexia.” mapi scoffed, though the norwegian kicked her gently as the older girl immediately reached out to grab a 3D model of a heart from the desk in front of her. “well she has a point.” sol chuckled as mapi huffed and crossed her arms, dropping the model back down on the desk. though seeing sol's face pale as she looked around at the posters and shrugged off her hoodie mapi sat up properly knowing she was needed now.

“hey. mi sol you will be fine nena, you are in the best hands possible you know fresa would never hurt you.” mapi promised softly, a hand settling on the younger girl's knee as she sat up on the bench with a shaky nod, chest tightening with anxiety as her left leg bounced lightly up and down.

the norwegian jumped suddenly as the door slid open again and closed with a small bang, her girlfriend returning with an armful of vials and a box of gloves, setting them down and messing about grabbing out a few more items from the drawers beneath.

“did you touch this? i said no touching, tonta! why do you have such big ears if you cannot use them to listen?” the brunette narrowed her eyes, smacking mapi on the shoulder and moving the 3D heart back where it came from as the older girl whined about abusing clients in the workplace making fresa roll her eyes.

“now cariño do you want me to explain exactly what i am doing as i go, or do you want me to go ahead and have the bocaza distract you?” fresa stopped right in front of her girlfriend, hands on her knees and a kind smile on her lips as she jerked her thumb toward the tattooed defender beside her.

mapi scoffing in offence at the nickname she muttered something under her breath, resisting the urge to sweep the youngest putellas’s legs out from beneath her.

“i don’t know.” sol answered quietly, fresa grabbing her hands where they nervously fidgeted in her lap. “okay. well first i am going to get this band and wrap it around your bicep, then i will pump it with air and that will feel strange but it is to cut off the blood flow so it is easier for me to find your vein.'' fresa explained softly, sol nodding in understanding.

“aquí bebé, fiddle with this but try to sit still, then we can get this done faster!” the younger girl messed around with the tie on the woven bracelet on her wrist.

sol knew it held a large amount of meaning to her girlfriend, given to fresa by her sister alba to help with her own nerves when she was much younger, the girls older sister now always replacing it with a new one she’d make when the strings would fray and fade.

managing to untie it fresa wasted no time tugging it off and slipping it onto her girlfriend's wrist, tying it back up with a smile and softly kissing the taller girls palm as mapi fake gagged, a loud smack echoing as again fresa’s hand collided this time with the back of her head.

“bocaza, distract her.” fresa ordered addressing mapi this time with a click of her fingers as she grabbed out the band. “no please? no manners? your hermana raised you better than this.” mapi tutted as fresa rolled her eyes. “stop feeding alexia’s delusions that she’s my mami, she is already too protective.” the girl huffed, grabbing her girlfriends arm and wrapping the band around before starting to pump the air which sure enough felt strange as sol grimaced.

“do you think when ale has kids they will call you tía or hermana?”

“maría, you are supposed to be distracting sol, not annoying me. or one of these needles might slip and fall into your leg, or maybe your forehead. ya sabes i am not trained in botox but…” fresa threatened as her girlfriend cracked a genuine smile and mapi’s jaw fell open in shock.

“if we were not in your place of work, diablillo…” mapi inhaled with a shake of her head, the younger spaniard smirking and sending her girlfriend a wink. “i can take you anyday león. i have before!'' fresa reminded as mapi’s face blushed red at the memory. “you cheated and i was drunk! that does not count.” the defender huffed.

“when barca won the champions league a few years ago we went to a big party afterwards with all the family and friends. mapi had a few too many shots and tried to lift leila onto her shoulders, she fell over and thought i pushed her and then tried to tackle me-” fresa recounted, sols eyes never leaving her face nodding along with the story.

“-but she missed and tackled a pot plant instead. then she tried again but tackled alexia because she could not see straight, and la tonta can show you the photo of the black eye which followed.” fresa finished, grinning at the melodic sound of her girlfriend's laugh. “that is not how it happened putellas!” mapi scoffed incredulously, shaking her head.

“i was minding my own business just trying to celebrate with the team. then i tried to hug your sister, diablillo stuck her leg out and tripped me over out of nowhere, and sent me flying into a table and i smacked my face on the corner." mapi’s hands flew around the room determined to defend her honour.

“not what happened.” fresa whispered to sol as mapi continued to rant and rave behind her. “has mapi told you about the time she and leila looked after me for the weekend when i was little?” fresa spoke up again as the norwegian shook her head.

“she tied us up and tortured us for two days!” mapis hands flung up into the air as sol grinned watching her neck and ears turn red with frustration. “i told you both i was in charge, you did not listen. you should be embarrassed, letting an eleven year old tie you both up.” fresa shook her head as mapi scoffed. “you tricked us! you pretended to be sad you were left behind and said you wanted to-”

“and done!” the norwegians eyes widened in shock at her girlfriend who interrupted. “what? already?” even mapi was stunned into silencing her stories, both girls wide eyed as fresa nodded.

“sí. i told you, i am the best!” fresa shrugged, unwrapping the pressure band and setting it down beside sol on the bench as she grabbed out a marker and started to fill in the labels on the eight vials of blood she’d taken while her girlfriend was distracted.

“you even got a lollipop because you were such a good girl.” fresa smiled smugly, holding out the jar to her girlfriend and relishing in the way the girl's entire face blushed beet red at her words and she hastily grabbed one.

with the norwegian the tall and tattooed individual she was everyone always assumed the dynamic between the pair would sway in her favour, which was occasionally true (when fresa allowed it), though really fresa enjoyed nothing more than watching how easily she could get the seemingly more dominant girl to crumble, knowing in reality most of the time she was anything but.

“wait, are those all from solstråle?” mapi asked wide eyed as fresa's head whipped around to glare at the defender, sol’s own eyes dropping to the vials of blood. “por qué preguntas eso, estúpido idiota!” fresa hissed, mapi’s mouth opening and closing trying to find an answer.

though their pending argument was cut off by a loud thud, sol having passed out and fallen to the floor collapsed in a heap, mapi dropping to her knees right away to lay her down properly as fresa let out a loud groan, burying her face in her hands.

“por el amor de dios! maría do you know how much extra paperwork i have to do now because she passed out? i had a near perfect patient record until this, and i just came off my probationary period!” fresa groaned dragging her hands down her face with a sigh.

“mi sol? sol? nena? solstråle?” mapi repeated, tapping gently at the norwegian’s cheeks with the back of her hand. “fresa make her wake up, i hate when she does this.” the girl demanded with a scowl.

“well whose fault is it that she passed out maría? you just had to point out the blood didn’t you? idiota!” fresa bit back and rolled her eyes at the spaniard’s panic, knowing well enough by now that this was a normal occurrence for her girlfriend any time she saw blood.

“this happens when she pulls on a hangnail too hard and see’s a drop of red, how are you not used to it by now mapi?” “well fresa i do not like my girlfriend’s hermanita looking lifeless on the ground in front of me, would you like to call ingrid and tell her what has happened?”

at those words fresa paled and dropped to her knees, admittedly quite terrified of her girlfriends older sister despite the fact ingrid had never really given her a reason to be, mumbling a quiet “no thank you.”

with a light touch to her cheek and soft encouraging murmur from the younger girl, sol was blinking her eyes open, a glazed over look finding its way onto her face as she recognized her girlfriend hovering above her.

“oh hi fres.” the norwegian mumbled, smile only growing when the girl above her smirked back. “hola dopey, did you have a nice nap?” the spaniard teased with a wink, tracing sols jaw with her thumb.

“sol! ay dios mio nena, you have to stop doing that.” mapi exhaled dramatically, clutching at her chest as if the poor girl had just attempted some life risking feat and not fainted at the sight of her own blood.

“you should not have pointed out the b-l-o-o-d and she would have been fine!” fresa snapped, though her touch remained gentle as she ran her thumb across sol’s cheek and forehead, tracing across the taller girls worry lines which she knew from past experiences helped to ground her again.

“i can spell.” sol interrupted. “i know you just spelled blood, i’m not stupid.” “of course not mi amor, maria is the only stupid one here. do you want another lollipop?”

“yes please!” sol replied excitedly, effectively distracted, though it meant she sat up much too fast. “uh oh.” the girl mumbled, head spinning at the sudden movement.

sol shut her eyes tightly, reaching out to grab on to the nearest stable object; that just happened to be mapi’s arm. with a sigh, the defender lowered the girl back down onto the ground mumbling something inaudible and encouragingly squeezing her shoulder.

though whatever was said seemed to reach fresa’s ears who smacked the footballer on the shoulder with an unimpressed glare before getting back up to her feet to finish labelling the vials, handing mapi the jar of lollipops as sol blinked groggily.

“i will be back. once she is a little more stable can you try to get her back up on that bench? legally i am not allowed to let her leave until her heart rate is normal and i test her blood sugar levels.” fresa sighed, collecting the vials and addressing mapi who nodded.

stepping out fresa made her way out back where only staff were permitted, bagging up the vials and slapping on the sticker of her girlfriends details, carefully placing it into the storage fridge and hurrying through to reception where carmen still sat typing.

“can you print me off an incident report please?” fresa asked quietly. “what? did you try to have sex with your girlfriend in one of the rooms and get caught?” the older girl teased as the younger girls ears burned red in humiliation. “carmen! cállate.” fresa hissed looking around to make sure no one heard as carmen rolled backward to grab the paperwork from the printer.

“relax chica i am only teasing. is everything okay?” the girl asked, much kinder this time handing fresa the stack of papers who nodded. “sí, está bien. solstrale is not good with blood, she took a look at her vials and passed out.” fresa sighed as carmen smiled.

“and you know to-” “monitor her heart rate, check her blood sugars, keep her till i am happy with the results?” fresa recounted in a somewhat questioning tone as carmen nodded happily. “perfecta.” the older girl praised filling fresa with pride as she nodded.

“oye fres? when you are done, take your break. go get some lunch with tu novia!” carmen informed as the spaniard frowned.

“are you sure? you started before me so you take your hour first?” fresa questioned as carmen waved her off. “oh sí, i just have to check with the manager…” she paused looking around for a second until her eyes fell down to her nametag on her scrubs.

“oh look, that is me! and i say it is fine, now go before i change my mind amiga.”

“sol will drive you home?” eli questioned as she parked outside the apartment building where her youngest daughters girlfriend lived. “sí mami, and i will be home before ten. gracias!” the girl leaned across the console to kiss her mamis cheek, unbuckling and stretching over to grab her bag from where it sat on the backseat.

“mija do not forget to tell her about family dinner on friday, i will make her favourite!” eli called after her youngest who frowned. “why do you always cook her favourite? you used to like me more than my girlfriend, eli.” the girl scoffed, paling instantly at the hardened look at the use of her mamis first name.

“lo siento mami, i will tell her.” fresa apologised quickly, waving goodbye again before using the key given to her by her sol and letting herself into the building.

stepping out of the elevator fresa barely knocked twice at the front door before it swung open, a squeal leaving the girls mouth as her feet were no longer touching the floor, her girlfriend tossing her over her shoulder.

“solstråle! put me down tonta, ya mismo!” fresa laughed hitting the taller girl on the back who ignored her, kicking the door closed and carrying her further into the apartment making a beeline for her bedroom.

“hi fresa!” ingrid called out with a small smile from the kitchen where she was making dinner, mapi out walking scout to burn off his extra energy since he’d been home alone all day.

“hola ingrid!” was all the girl could get out before sol made it to her room, dropping her girlfriend very ungracefully onto her bed and closing the door. “door open solstråle!” her sister yelled out in warning as sol groaned but opened it just ajar again.

“mi amor no i need a shower por favor i still have my scrubs on and-” but the catalans protests fell on deaf ears, her girlfriend flopping down on top of her without a care. “you can shower later.” the norwegian decided for her, hand patting her cheek lightly as she wriggled around to get comfortable.

“there is blood on them.” but at that she shot bolt upright, rolling off fresa who grinned and pushed herself off the bed. “hey no there isn’t!” sol scowled looking her girlfriend and her seemingly clean scrubs up and down and crossing her arms, fresa only sticking her tongue out and grabbing her bag off the floor, making a beeline for her girlfriends ensuite.

“do you have to do all of that?” the norwegian groaned, dragging herself into the bathroom as fresa made her way through her post shower skincare routine. “you already look pretty all the time babe, even without all this shit on your face.” the girl mumbled, hugging her shorter girlfriend from behind, hunched over and scowling.

“sí amor, quiero.” fresa chuckled, patting sols hands which rested on her stomach as the girl huffed, unwrapping herself and taking a seat on the lid of the toilet. “i am done anyway cariño, your turn!” fresa cheered as sol threw her head back with a loud groan, her girlfriend moving her legs apart so she could stand between them.

“no i don’t wan-” but before she could even finish her sentence sol grimaced and quickly closed her mouth, moisturiser already being smeared across her face as the older girl deflated with defeat, allowing fresa to do as she wanted.

though when finally fresa was done and sol was ready to pull her into bed, ingrid called that dinner was ready and her girlfriend was already up and headed out, the norwegian groaning and begrudgingly following after her to the table.

“no we don’t want to watch a movie, no we don’t want to play a game, no we don’t want to hang out with you both but great dinner so good so delicious one of your best thank you bye!” sol rambled out quickly once they’d all finished their food and fresa had of course insisted she help clean up, grabbing her girlfriends hand and practically hauling her back toward the bedroom, ignoring mapi’s teasing remarks yelled after them.

“finally!” sol exhaled, ever so carefully closing her door with the softest of clicks, waiting a moment and when ingrid didn’t yell for it to open again she let go of the handle.

“wait what? what are you doing?” sol frowned as fresa was knelt down rummaging through her backpack, not making herself comfortable in the middle of the bed like she normally would be, scout already curled up on the end waiting patiently.

“studying amor, i have a unit due at the end of the week!” fresa frowned as she pulled out a textbook, mumbling something to herself in spanish as she hunted for something else and sol groaned loudly, dramatically back flopping onto her bed. “nooo!”

“you should be studying too! your history paper, did you finish it?” the spaniard asked, standing up with an armful of school supplies and staring her girlfriend down who shook her head. “did you start it?” fresa asked, giving the taller girl a hardened look who scoffed. “yes! don’t give me that look putellas.”

“well then don’t lie to me engen. oh did you buy more lego?” fresa realised as she tried to clear some space on her girlfriends desk, noting a few new additions to the norweigans very large and very proud collection as the girl sprung to her feet eager to show them off. “yes! look i got the jaws set, and another succulent and then mapi finally found the add ons for my-” she fell silent seeing the amused smirk on the younger girls face.

“don’t laugh!” sol scowled, crossing her arms and glaring down at the shorter girl who placed her books down on the desk. “i am not laughing mi amor, it is muy adorable how much you love your little legos.” fresa grinned, hugging her and staring up at the stone faced norwegian, stretching up to peck her lips a few times.

“solstråle!” fresa yelped as once again she was picked up off her feet. “i told you to stop manhandling me!” the girl warned, her accent when she spoke english making her girlfriend grin as once more fresa was dropped on the bed, scout jumping off and making himself comfortable in his own bed in the corner.

“no no bebé i told you i need to-” but fresa sighed as her girlfriend again collapsed on top of her causing her to grunt. “you need to cuddle me.” the girl demanded tiredly, fresa wanting to argue but unable to stop the smile curling into her features at the sudden softer shift in sol when she was needy.

“you are such a big baby.” fresa teased, the two of them moving around for a second until both were comfortable, sol grabbing her girlfriends hand and moving it to tangle in her hair, fresa already knowing exactly what she wanted as the taller girl turned on the tv.

“can i pick? you will be asleep in ten minutes.” fresa chuckled knowingly, sol grumbling something in norwegian and refusing to give the remote up making her girlfriend roll her eyes, fingers messing about with her hair.

“another nature documentary?” “they’re interesting!” “sí, for old people.” “fresa!”

“bien. watch your stupid tree show!” fresa gave in with a sigh, admittedly far too comfortable using her girlfriend as a makeshift weighted blanket to be bothered to argue. “well i did go through a horrible experience today, this mean nurse stabbed me and made me pass out!” sol sighed, laughing as her girlfriend scoffed in offence and tried to push her off to no success at all.

“oh lo siento, poor bebé.” fresa pouted sarcastically and rolled her eyes, her feisty attitude part of what had solstråle so attracted to her in the first place. “mmm i think i need spanish kisses to make it better.” the girl grinned wolfishly, tapping her lips as fresa sighed deeply as if it was a chore, sol pinching her softly and shuffling up the bed a little.

“lucky you are cute sometimes engen.” “only sometimes?” “si, you are also very annoying amor.” “so charming putellas.”

“i love you.” sols features softened as she pushed herself up to hover over the younger girl a little whose hands moved from her hair to cup her face, perfectly manicured fingers tracing her jaw. “i love you.”

“i love you more.” “i love you most.” “i love you more than the most.” “i love you-”

“ay dios mio i have had to hear this all day! you two are disgusting give it a rest!”

#🍓☀️#woso x reader #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics

877 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 76 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.

####

Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"

"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."

"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.

They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."

Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."

Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."

Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"

Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"

Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."

Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"

Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"

"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."

"What?"

"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."

"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.

"Can you uncurse it, though?"

"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.

Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"

Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"

"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."

"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."

"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.

Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."

That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.

But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.

Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"

"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."

To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.

It was something a person would do.

Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.

####

Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.

Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it.

He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.

"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.

To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.

"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.

After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.

"Thank you."

It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?

Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.

He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.

As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.

"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.

When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.

"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."

As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"

The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"

Ford stopped the tape. Huh.

Huh.

####

As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"

Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"

"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."

Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"

"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"

"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."

"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.

Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.

Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.

####

Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"

"Yep. Just going to bed?"

Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."

"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"

"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."

"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.

And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.

Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.

"Bill."

"Hm?"

He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."

Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"

Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"

Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."

Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)

But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.

"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."

Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"

"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not.

Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"

"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."

"Is this your emergency stash?"

"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.

"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."

"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.

Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."

"That much?"

"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."

All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.

As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"

Ford glanced back. "Yes?"

"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."

He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."

"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.

####

Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"

She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"

She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"

"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."

"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.

Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"

"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.

"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.

"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."

Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."

"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"

"Nobody. Everyone hates him."

She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"

"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.

"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"

Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"

"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."

####

"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"

"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."

"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."

Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"

"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!"

"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"

"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."

"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"

Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.

####

"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"

"Okay, but why you?"

She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."

"They really don't."

"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."

"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"

"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."

What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."

She was quiet a moment. "I know."

"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.

####

After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.

The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.

The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."

He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.

All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.

Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."

The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"

"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"

The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"

"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"

While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"

"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"

"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"

"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"

"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"

A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.

"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"

The book immediately fell still.

Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.

He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."

"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.

"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"

"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."

"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."

As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.

He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.

But how did it know?

Could it have warned him about Bill?

Ford would never find out now.

The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."

The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—

That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.

After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.

####

In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.

Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.

On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.

The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.

And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.

Journal 2's pages rustled.

####

(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎

Thaaat's right. 😎😎

An unrelated flashback chapter!!!

Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)

#mabel pines #dipper pines #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(Dec 12 edit: chapter has been renumbered)

623 notes · View notes

kykyonthemoon · 4 months ago

Text

Under The Weather

Zayne came to visit you when you were unwell, and turned out, you were not the only one who needed special care.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader|MC

♡︎. Tags: fluff, sweet, soft domestic fluff, tender loving care, established relationship, sickness, seasonal flu and usage of medication.

♡︎. Word count: ~1k

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

In a dreaming state, you woke up at midday. The doorbell rang, and you had to force yourself to move your painful, fatigued body.

Zayne was waiting for you outside. At that moment, you immediately recalled something really important.

You had stood Zayne up.

That Saturday morning was supposed to be your date at the cinema with Zayne. But in the early morning, you had a fever and ultimately fell asleep. You turned to look at the wall clock inside the room and felt even more guilty.

Zayne, though, remained silent. Just by looking at your current state, he could tell why you did not show up at the cinema. The first thing he did after entering your flat was take your temperature.

“S-Sorry, Zayne…” You mumbled while he got you some medication. “But… How was the movie?”

"I don't know." His voice echoed from the kitchen, where he was pouring a cup of water.

“Huh?… Didn't you watch it?”

Zayne appeared in front of you. In one hand he carried a few pills, and in the other a glass of warm water. He spread both of them in front of you, bending down slightly to be within your reach on the sofa.

“I bought two tickets. If I only used one, the remaining would feel very lonely.”

Despite your feeble grin, it seemed as though a bit more life had been infused into the flower that was your heart.

“Sorry that I made you wait…” You replied after taking the medication. All of a sudden, you could picture Zayne sitting by himself at the cinema, two tickets in hand, soft drinks and popcorn beside him. You were filled with guilt. You felt so guilty. “You can just call me next time, if something like this happens again.”

“I did make a call.”

"Huh? I don't remember receiving any call..."

You quickly found the phone on the table and turned it on. There were dozens of calls and messages from Zayne with no response. You must have fallen deep asleep, as you did not know anything.

Zayne lowered himself in front of you with one knee bent on the floor. He looked up at you, his hand gently ruffled your hair.

“"It's fortunate that you didn't get yourself into any trouble scarier than a fever.”

You grinned. Zayne treated you with gentleness as always. Even when you had stood him up, he did not get angry and came to your place to take care of you. All of a sudden, you were dying to kiss him. Yet when you softly closed your eyes and leaned towards his direction, your nose started to itch, causing you to sneeze violently and collapsing into Zayne instead.

He held you in his arms, caressing your soft hair. Just as you were about to sneeze again, Zayne snatched up a tissue from the table and carefully put it to your nose. Your hair was disheveled and your whole face reddened. You were still in your jammies with snowmen on them. You were so embarrassed to let him see you looking that unkempt. Zayne, though, only gave you a soft stroke on the face, saying that you should rest some more. He would take care of lunch. You drifted off into another dream right after Zayne carried you back to the bedroom.

When you woke up, he had finished preparing porridge and a light meal. Since you still wanted to make it up to Zayne for that movie both of you had missed that morning, you suggested another one at home. You curled up on the sofa, leaning against him. Remembering what he had mentioned during the meal earlier that there had been a seasonal flu epidemic in Linkon recently, you quickly rose up and moved far away from him, all the way to the other side of the sofa. Zayne rolled his eyes at you, wondering why you were acting so strange.

“I don't want to give Doctor Zayne my flu…” You clarified.

Zayne smiled, shaking his head slightly. He gradually moved towards you until you were both sitting side by side like earlier.

“I have a strong immune system. I am capable of taking care of you in every way without becoming sick."

Undoubtedly, you took Zayne's word for it and allowed him to look after you for the next few days. However, by the time you recovered, he was the one to get sick.

“I thought Doctor Zayne was so confident about his immune system.” While taking his temperature, you could not resist teasing him more.

Zayne lay on the bed without responding. His nose tip was red from excessive sneezing, and his body was heated from a fever. You took the opportunity to poke his cheek several times. His face reddened even more, and he appeared uneasy while lying still. Doctor Zayne seldom became so submissive and tolerated your bothering him to this extent.

You assisted him in taking his medication and urge him to get more rest.

“You should… go home… I'll be fine again tomorrow…” Zayne said.

"I'm not leaving. You caught the flu from me, didn't you? It is now my responsibility to take care of you until you fully recover!"

Zayne met your determined gaze. He smiled softly.

“Heal me then, Doc-tor.”

You leaned down, about to kiss him, but Zayne quickly put a hand on his lips to stop you.

“That is... not something we can do right now…”

You grimaced before giving his knuckles a tender kiss.

"So you have to make it up to me later once you get better, Doctor Zayne," you said.

558 notes · View notes

therealcocoshady · 9 months ago

Note

Hi, coco!

You could make a third part of Eminem x Young Actress Reader, where the reader accompanies him to a game in Detroit and the cameras can't stop focusing on them because Em has never been seen so smiling and affectionate with someone. For the rest you can add what you want. By the way, I love your work and I love that you write about Eminem since almost no one does.<3

Family Game

Eminem x Younger Actress Reader

Part 1 : Daddy’s Spaghetti

Part 2 : Red Carpet Appearance

AN : thank you for your request ! I hope you liked it. I added my own little twist to it 🥰

Ever since your remarked outing at the Oscars, everyone knew you and Marshall were dating, much to your delight. Sure, you would gladly do without the press coverage, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a tiny bit satisfying to have everyone know that Eminem, hip hop’s most eligible bachelor was spoken for, by yours truly, no less. After all, you were not the first (nor the last) public figure to thirst over him and it felt nice to have the “competition” know that they should back off. Especially when you were in a long distance relationship : him in Detroit, you in LA. Sure, you trusted each other and often traveled to make it work but, still, it’s easy to get jealous, especially when both parties are public figures. Marshall was well aware of your status as Hollywood’s rising star and, since he had been your crush for years, you knew for a fact that he has tons of ladies throwing themselves at him.

In spite of the distance and a couple of jealousy episodes, the two of you managed to make your relationship work, however. Marshall frequently flew out to LA to record with Dr Dre and other artists and to visit you and, whenever you weren’t shooting a movie, you joined him in Michigan. Your relationship was now in the serious state of « we’re both hope at each other’s place ». Your living room table was full of CDs and notepads and his living room was made cozy with your favorite crystals (which he always made fun of), scented candles (which he secretly loved) and fuzzy blankets (which he stole whenever you weren’t around). The whole relationship, despite trials, felt cozy and domestic. And it was made even better by the fact that Marshall had finally managed to ease up. You tended to blame it on the good critical reception after the Oscars : as soon as the two of you had been spotted together, holding hands, Marshall happily gushing about you to the press, both your fans and his had showered you with love and showed nothing but support. Whenever you were positing, fans (most of the time, respectfully) asked about him and they seemed truly overjoyed by the relationship. From what you gathered in the social media comments, they were also dying for the two of you to be spotted together again. Marshall was pretty much an hermit and not the kind to go out and about when he knew he might be spotted but, on one occasion, he had to oblige the fans.

His beloved Detroit Lions were playing your Los Angeles Rams at Detroit’s Ford Field Stadium and there was no way in hell you would miss the occasion to attend. Knowing how protective of your relationship he could be, you made plans to attend on your own, with a couple of friends who would fly in for the occasion, but Marshall surprised you by actually requesting your presence.

Don’t you want to go with me ? He asked.

You mean… on a date ? You clarified.

I mean there would be other people around, like family, friends and shit but we could be together, he said with a smile.

You mean you would agree to being spotted with me ?! You asked jokingly. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in Lions apparel !

What I mean is that I’d be proud to hold your hand, even if you’re wearing that stupid Rams hoodie, he grinned.

Ok, you giggled. As long as I’m not forced to cheer for your team !

You ended up attending the event in a private suite with a lot of other people. Of course, his children were in attendance, as well as a couple of D12 friends. You had met everyone previously. A couple of months into the relationship, Marshall had organized a dinner for you to officially meet his daughters and everything had gone smoothly. You absolutely loved them, and same went for the friends he had introduced to you on different occasions. At the game, you were also joined by a couple of your friends, that you not so secretly planned on setting up with some of his. In your mind, there was no doubt that Alicia and Porter were meant to be and the Game seemed like the perfect occasion. It was joyful and everyone was really happy to be here. You were donning your favorite Rams apparel, much to Marshall’s dismay, but that didn’t prevent him from casually holding your hand.

For how much would you wear Lions apparel ? Your friend jokingly asked.

Nobody in this room can afford it, you replied with a grin.

Oh really ? Marshall asked with a smirk.

How about if you guys get married ? Porter asked. Would you be willing to support the Lions ?

That would require a HUGE rock, you giggled. But yeah, sure, if we ever get married, I’ll wear Lions gear for all games, except the ones against the Rams.

Your friends erupted in « oooohs » and « aaaahs ». The rivalry between your two teams was enough to fuel a dozen of conversations but, other than that, everyone around you had to agree that you were kind of the perfect couple. Your best friends always pointed out that Marshall was good at keeping you grounded and reminding you of the things that mattered - besides all the LA glitz and glamour - and Marshall’s circle seemed happy that you encouraged him to go out of his comfort zone.

He was usually stressed out whenever there were tons of cameras around. It was unsettling to you, at first, because it was part of the job, but as your relationship progressed and he came with you to some events, he seemed to ease up. Still, he wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but you didn’t mind. You enjoyed his company nonetheless and you didn’t need him to kiss you in public or even hold your hand to be happy to be with him. In settings like football games, though, he was himself - the man you knew and loved in everyday life. He could be seen clapping, shouting, cheering… a far cry from the stoic face he arbored on red carpets and magazine covers. And you absolutely loved to see him enjoy himself and have fun. You were enamored with his smile and happy demeanor and you didn’t care too much about the 60 000 other people, you only had eyes for him. Obviously, though, as a Detroit native and global superstar, he was one of the centres of attention when Lose Yourself started playing before the game and everyone started singing/rapping along to the lyrics. Everyone in your group watched Marshall, who was definitely in a good mood. So were you, to be honest, and you couldn’t help but rap along, this song being one of your favorites ever. As the song ended, you could see Marshall sitting right next to you, trying not to laugh.

You’re adorable, he chuckled.

What ? You asked with a giggle. It’s the ultimate stadium song ! And my boyfriend is the one who wrote it !!!

I love you, he simply said before cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

That was the last tender moment the two of you shared before the end of the game. When your two favorite teams played each other, there was no romantic involvement anymore. It was all betting, taunting and calling each other names. For the first two quarters, the Rams seemed to dominate, which you gladly shoved in your boyfriend’s face, but when the Lions ended up winning, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Despite it all, and in spite of you being a sore loser, Marshall behaved like the perfect boyfriend and pecked you on the cheek, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you exited your suite. His team winning always put him in a celebratory mood and he was more affectionate than usual, not giving a damn what people would see or think. He even went so far as to kiss your lips.

Of course, in the following hours, the Internet went absolutely crazy over the pictures of the two of you at the stadium. While some accounts were raving about your outfit (because you did put some effort into making that Sports apparel work !), most of them were gushing about Marshall’s display of affection and how in love the two of you looked.

« Look at his smile 🥰 » commented one, or « Look how in love he looks when she’s rapping his song 😭❤️ » were a few of the comments you could see under the videos of the event. It was extremely cute and, in moments like these, you felt like the luckiest woman on earth. However, a swarm of other comments started to appear, focusing on… Marshall’s daughters. The three of them were sitting on the row just behind you and they could be seen laughing at your nonexistent rapping skills (all fair, really) and mocking their father’s display of affection. You didn’t take offense at all - you’d been there yourself and you knew how icky it could feel, seeing your parent being affectionate with someone in public, but the press and social media accounts seemed to turn it into a family feud. If the headlines were to be believed, neither Alaina, Stevie or Hailie approved of the relationship and thought you were too young for Marshall. They apparently despised you and saw you as the most evil and wicked stepmother who was more than likely after their Dad’s fortune. Of course, reality couldn’t be further from the truth. Whenever you were in Detroit, you spent a great deal of time with Marshall’s daughters and you considered as friends. So much so that you even made plans of your own, that did not include him. It wasn’t rare for the four of you to have dinner or go shopping. On occasion, they even visited you in California and you soon planned to go on a girls’ trip in Morocco. So, when Hailie showed you the headline on your phone, everyone burst out laughing.

« Evil stepmother », Stevie chortled. That’s hilarious.

Is that because of the face you made, Hailie ? When Y/N was rapping ? Alaina chimed in.

I was making a face because they were corny ! She laughed. Look at Dad’s face on the video. He’s all cute and lovey dovey. Of course I wanted to puke !

Marshall rolled his eyes. He was no stranger to his kids making fun of how in love with you he was but, honestly, he didn’t care. For the first time in forever, he was happy and thriving in a relationship. A healthy one, at that. Whenever you were around, he could barely contain his joy and good mood and he often thought he would do anything to make you smile. He hated public attention but he simply loved showing you off and enjoying life with you. However, he had to admit he was a little annoyed by the comments involving your relationship with his daughters. He knew there was no truth to it whatsoever but that didn’t make it less annoying. First of all, he hated seeing his kids’ names in the media, especially if it was negative and, secondly, he hated the idea of lies involving all of you, the people he loved the most on this earth. However, the four of you were grown women and he knew better than to say something so he figured it would be best to wait for it to die down.

Unfortunately, though, the rumors did not die down and the whole thing got blown out of proportion. It wasn’t only on social media : press and other media outlets got ahold of the story and even dug up some obscure social media posts and took them out of context. They really made it seem like there was hatred between the girls and you were a mean gold-digger who wanted to estrange Marshall from his children. Nothing could be further for the truth though, and you even celebrated the holidays together. After years spent in the public eye, you tried not to let it get to you but it was hard. Even if some of your past relationships had been publicized, this one was on a whole other level and you had a hard time dealing with the scrutiny. Especially when some people were starting to wish for the end of your career with comments like « What a b****. Hope no one casts her ever again 🙄 » or « Hope she enjoys her Oscar because she won’t last much longer in Hollywood 💀 ». You tried not to let your feelings show. Marshall was already annoyed and you didn’t want things to get worse. After all, you knew how overprotective he could get over the people he loved.

A few weeks went by and the attention seemed to die down around the holidays. You had been with Marshall for a year and a half and it was your first time celebrating together. You would spend the days leading up to Christmas in Michigan, go back to your family in California for the holidays and then jet off to a private Island lent by a friend for some vacation time just the two of you. Marshall would even join you in LA to spend some time with your family who was definitely approving of him. They absolutely adored him and considered him a part of the family.

In the week leading up to Christmas, you were on Christmas tree decoration duty with the girls while Marshall was letting you do your thing. Hailie had come up with some ornaments as merch for her podcast and you thought it would be cute and funny to take a selfie with one of them that said « Shady or Nice ». You posted it to your Instagram account with some cheesy caption and didn’t pay it too much attention. When you checked the comments, a day or so later, you were surprised at the reaction. What you thought would be a cute nod to your boyfriend and his daughter’s podcast ended up in a shitstorm, with people basically accusing you on sucking up to Hailie to get to Marshall. In their mind, you were a master manipulator. Of course, these were just a bunch of people commenting and the rest seemed rather supportive and happy to see you acknowledging your relationship, something you rarely did on your social media account. Still, you were a little bugged off when you went to bed.

What’s up, babygirl ? Marshall asked as he laid next to you.

Nothing, you shrugged. Just these mean trolls.

What are they saying now ?

That your daughters hate me, you summed up. And that I’m trying to suck up to them.

That’s stupid, he scoffed. The girls love you and you know it.

And I love them too, you know ? You replied. But I don’t know… I don’t like people getting the wrong idea. And I see people commenting about me in their posts and it breaks my heart.

It’s not your fault, he said before kissing your forehead. Let’s not think about that, ok ? Just focus on the holidays and the great time we’re going to have.

I’m going to miss you for Christmas, you pointed out.

Three days, he chuckled. And then I’m joining you in California. And after that… you, me, a private island and your tiniest bikinis.

You nuzzled his neck and enjoyed the warmth of his embrace, making you forget all of your worries. The next day, you were set to hop on the jet to go back to California and enjoy some family time with your brother and your parents. Before that, you enjoyed one last brunch at Marshall’s place, with his daughters. Hailie got everyone matching ugly Christmas sweaters and you were absolutely moved that she got one for you. You took corny pictures in front of the Christmas tree posing with your boyfriend’s daughters while he was rolling his eyes at your dumb poses. You even got Marshall to pose with you. He wasn’t big on taking pictures but he knew how important these were for you and the girls so he obliged with a smile on his face. A few hours later, you were on the jet, scrolling social media and noticed that Alaina had posted the picture of you, her and her sisters in front of the Christmas Tree with the caption : « Happy holidays from our FAMILY to yours 💕 ». You thought it was the sweetest thing ever that she considered you as family. Of course, trolls were still in the comments, but you tried to stay positive. A few hours later, Hailie updated her last podcast episode of the year, with Stevie as guest.

So, before we begin this episode, we wanted to address something, she began.

Family matters, Stevie specified.

Right, Hailie nodded. You guys have been commenting a lot on last episode’s video and on my Instagram account…

All our accounts, her sister corrected.

Yes. Everyone’s account. It seems like Internet is going crazy about a certain video that was taken at the last Lions Game, so I thought… we thought we should clear things up, Hailie said. I understand that there are always going to be rumors about our family, and we can��t help it at this point, but it’s the Holidays and I don’t my mood to be ruined by negative attention and lies. So… Stevie, do you want to comment on the video ?

Basically, we were at the game, enjoying some family time and people filmed our reaction to Y/N… our Dad’s girlfriend, rapping Lose Yourself, Stevie explained. And kissing afterwards. And what really sparked the whole thing is the face Hailie made.

Yeah, I pretended to puke, Hailie giggled. And no, guys, it’s not because I hate Y/N or anything like that, it’s just… we’re a normal family, guys. Whenever you see your parents being cheesy and corny, you want to puke, right ?

Right, Stevie giggled. So, let’s not dwell on this but for the record : we love Y/N and she is not what people make her to be. We see her as family, you know ?

Yes ! It’s the Holidays, it’s a family time and we all know I love Shady stories but… nothing Shady here. It’s all love, Hailie chuckled.

Too much love, Stevie joked.

This warmed your heart even more. The girls absolutely didn’t have to jump to your defense but the fact that they did warmed your heart and you couldn’t wait to spend some time with them again. You sent texts to thank them and wished them happy holidays, saying you were looking forward to seeing them soon. You also texted your boyfriend, telling him how amazing his kids were and that you loved him and his family.

MARSHALL’S POV

Marshall was eating dinner with his daughters when he got a text from Y/N that immediately put a smile on his face.

You girls are amazing, he said with a smile.

No idea what you’re talking about, Alaina said with feigned innocence.

I think you do, he replied with a grin. Seriously, you didn’t have to do that but… thank you. It means a lot to me.

We weren’t going to let people think we hate her, Stevie said.

Not when she is actually about to become our stepmother, Hailie said with a smirk.

Marshall immediately let his fork fall on his plate, a look of surprise on his face.

I… erm… wanted to talk to you about it first, he said. How do you even know… ?

I found the ring sketches in your office last time I went there, Stevie said. I was searching for one of your old CDs.

And you had to go yapping to your sisters about that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Are you really going to propose ? Hailie said with excitement.

I mean… I’ve been thinking about it, yeah, he admitted. I wanted to make sure you girls were ok with it first but, if that’s fine with you, I’d like to propose to her over the holidays.

The girls erupted in cheers and immediately gave their blessings, commenting on how they never thought this day would come. Of course, they quizzed him about his plans.

Were spending a couple of days with her family before going on vacation for NYE, so I was planning on asking for her father’s blessing, he explained.

Isn’t he like… almost your age, though ? Stevie chuckled.

It’s a matter of respect, he shrugged. I appreciated when Matt and Evan asked for my blessing so I thought I’d do the same. Can’t hurt to have your future father-in-law on your side.

And… as for the proposal ? Alaina asked.

I know it’s not super original but I was thinking of doing it on the private island, over a nice dinner on the beach, at sunset or something like that, he said.

It’s so cute ! Alaina said. I love it.

I think my Dad’s gone corny, Hailie joked.

You think it’s corny ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

Oh definitely. But she’s just as corny so she is going to love it !

One question though, Stevie said. If you guys get married, she’ll move to Detroit, right ?

That’s sort of the plan, yeah, Marshall said. She’d move for work quite a bit, depending on where movies are shot, but she’d live with me. Why ?

So… she’d have to turn into a Lions fan eventually, right ?

I’m counting on it, he said with a smirk.

Is that why you’re proposing ? Alaina joked.

Maybe, he chuckled. I swear to God, I’m putting a ban on Rams apparel in the prenup.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #eminem imagine #daddy's spaghetti

819 notes · View notes

daydreams-after-dark · 9 months ago

Note

Haii babes

Hear me out okay. Younger neighbor living next to DILF Chan and he's having a BBQ with all his middle aged friends like Minho, Changbin and Han and he invited you over. Obviously you have to dress your best (to get fucked) and it turns into a gun activity amongst the 5 of you 😫. PLEASE IM DYING ABOUT THIS

Holy shit! This ask came in and it instantaneously unlocked something in me! I was about to go out and meet a friend for coffee and the whole drive over I was thinking about channie and his friends fucking reader!!!

The idea of middle aged Chan and his friends, using younger reader like a little whore has got me rather turned on. Maybe it’s the voyeur in me wanting to see her getting absolutely ruined by the mature men? I don’t know and I’m not going to question it.

I just want to write something downright filthy (because this is the after dark blog). 😈😈💀💀

Just to clarify, the asks is meant to say “fun activity” not “gun.”

Oh and I just have to mention that this is basically 3Racha plus Minho…. Which I’ve always said is my ultimate dream! 🫠🫠🫠🫠 i'M SUCH SLUT FOR THEM!!

Ready? Here we go. Buckle up, it’s going to be pure filth!

CW: age gap - chan and co are in their forties (but very energetic) and reader is 22, implied consent, objectification, praise, name calling, unprotected vaginal and anal sex, double pen two holes, gangbang, blow jobs, cum eating (m and f), cream pie, slapping, spanking, hair pulling, rough sex, nipple play., videotaping

Your neighbour, Chan, is a filthy man. At first glance he is quite polite, very good looking, and a wonderful resident of the neighbourhood. But it's just an act. You know this from the way he sits on his upstairs balcony watching you whenever you sunbathe in your backyard.

It feels thrilling knowing he's watching, and the next time you sit in your backyard to sunbathe, you take your bikini off entirely. He doesn't even pretend he’s not looking.

You wonder if he'd come over and fuck you if called out to him? Probably. He seems like that kind of man.

One glorious spring day, Chan invites you over for an evening barbeque. "I'm having a small gathering of a few of my close friends, and they'd love to meet you." he smiles kindly, crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. But there's a deviousness behind them.

"Of course! I'll be there."

From what you’ve seen, his friends are hot too, and so of course you're ringing Chan's doorbell in your shortest sundress, tiniest panties, and tallest heels you own, balancing a platter of finger food in your hand.

“Y/n! Thank you for coming. Everyone has been waiting for you.” He guides you through his home to a closed in outdoor entertaining area at the back of the house.

“These are my friends.” He gestures to the three men sitting in outdoor couches around a low coffee table.

“This is Changbin, Han and Minho.”

You smile and wave at each of the men, exchanging pleasantries.

There are snacks spread out on the table in front of them, along with empty glasses. “Chan, shall I help poor drinks?” You offer. He smiles and tells you where to find the wine.

As you go retrieve the bottle of wine you take a moment to catch your breath. They are all so fucking handsome. You think to yourself, and you’re glad you decided to dress cute-slash-slutty.

“Here she is.” Smiles Chan as you walk back out.

“Drinks, boys?” You chime, holding up the wine, and all four men hold their empty glasses ready for you. You make your way around, being sure to bend over and stick out your ass to give each of the other men a view up your short dress, whilst smiling innocently at the man you were pouring a drink for.

You hear a few mumbled “fucks” and you know they’re eyes are glued to your ass cheeks poking out from underneath the dress.

“Y/n. You should come sit down. Take a seat.” said Chan.

You stand up and look around, but there isn’t a chair or space for you to sit.

“I think Chan means go take a seat on his lap, princess.” The one named Minho chuckles.

You turn to Chan who’s sitting with his legs wide and his arms outstretched along the back of his chair.

Oh. That’s exactly what he means. You can see it written on his smug face.

Quietly, you make your way over to Chan and carefully perch yourself across his lap.

He sucks in a breath and wraps an arm around your back. His other hand comes to your knee and squeezes it gently. “I was just telling the guys about what you and I get up to on the weekend.” He smirks.

“W-what do you mean?” You ask.

“Oh you know perfectly well, babygirl.” He says sternly. “How you put yourself on display for me.” He inhales the skin on your neck, causing you to shudder. “And they want you to show them what you show me.”

You look around at the men. Han is snacking on some crisps like this is an everyday situation, Changbin has the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen, and Minho looks like he wants to eat you.

You gulp.

Chan slowly unzips the back of your dress and pulls the sleeves down your arms until your tits spill out. He immediately attached his mouth to a nipple, then he pulls off with a loud pop. “So young. So supple.” He says approvingly groping at your breast.

“How old are you, y/n” Changbin asks curiously.

“T-twenty two.” You squeak.

“Perfect age.” He licks his lips.

“Old enough to fuck rough, and young enough to teach a lesson.” Minho stated.

“Hear that, babygirl? They want to play with you.” He whispers low.

Fuck! You bite your lip and grind ever so slightly on Chan’s thigh. He notices the small action. “You like that idea, don’t you? You gonna be our little whore for tonight?”

His hand slides up your dress to find your soaking panties. “Thought so.” He chuckles, pulling them to the side and pushing a finger into you.

“Fuck! Oh god… Chan.” You choke as he thrusts his fingers into your tight wet cunt.

“Hmmm… I think you mean daddy.” He corrects you. “Now bend over. You deserve a slap for that insolence.”

You looked at him questioningly, and the other men snicker.

“I said bend over, you need to be spanked.”

You move to lay across his lap, and Chan lifts your dress to reveal your ass.

"Hmm, scrumptious piece of meat." ogles Changbin.

"Bin, pass me the cheese knife...thanks, mate."

Your eyes squeeze tight and your breath hitches as he carefully traces the knife up the back of your thigh, before using it to slice your tiny little panties right off.

He tosses the knife back on the table and spreads your cheeks so the other three can see your glistening pussy.

"She looks like she'll be really tight." mumbled Han, his mouth full of food. "Do you think she'll be able to take us all? You know what we're like once we get started."

"She looks trainable." said Minho.

"Now, I think five spanks, should be enough." Chan concludes, and you secretly smile to yourself. You've can easily handle way more than- "Ahhh...Fuck!" you cry when a hard slap lands directly on your pussy. His hand comes down again. Slap! and another one. God, that stings.

"Just three more." Slap. Slap. Slap.

He pulls your dress down your body and slides it off your legs and tosses it to the floor. "Up we get, babygirl. Sit up now." Chan cooes.

You sit up with tears down your cheeks and look at the three other men. They all have their cocks out and are stroking their lengths.

"What do you have to say for yourself." Chan caresses your thighs and nuzzles into your breasts.

"S-sorry, d-daddy." you whisper.

"That's it. Good girl." The praise makes you feel good, and it makes you want to please him more.

"Now, I need you to go and suck Han's cock." He helps you onto your feet. "Go. He's waiting for you." he urges you on.

Naked, except for your heels, you make your way to Han. You feel wobbly on your feet from the shock of being spanked, but at the same time you've never felt more turned on in your life.

"Here, doll." Changbin stands up and directs you to kneel where he had been sitting and lean down and take Han's cock deep into your mouth. "Yes. This way we can have a bit of fun with you at the same time Han is fucking your throat." he adds.

"Baby, ahhh...ngh... fuck your mouth..." Han hums as you give him the best head of your life, taking him all the way into your throat. "Mmmh...you've sucked cock before haven't you, baby. ahhh...like a fucking pro." he holds your head down and thrusts into you, making you choke. "One of my favourite sounds." he adds.

Changbin spreads your ass cheeks and rubs the pads of his fingers around the entrance to your pussy, making you moan around Han. Then you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Changbin. Split her open for us." Minho says.

"Is our little toy ready to be played with? hmm?" Changbin chuckles as he pushes his cock into you. You let out a muffled cry as Changbin's girthy cock stretches your pussy open. He's so thick, but you're so wet, and once he is fully seated inside you, he starts to fuck you.

His thrusts are slow, deep, measured, and so powerful that you really are being forced to choke on Han's cock. Together, two men use you like a fleshlight, like a pretty toy to fuck into. Their hands explore your body in a rough, animalistic way, and you're fucking loving it.

You know that Chan and Minho are watching you from their chairs, probably jerking off and dying for a turn of you.

"Fuck...your pussy...so fucking tight..." he digs his fingers into your hips and slams your ass back onto him. "That's it...fuck...show me how you fuck yourself..." he releases his hands from your body, and stops thrusting entirely, making you back yourself onto him over and over again.

You can barely breathe, your makeup would surely be ruined by now, between the sting of the spanking and choking on cock, your face is surely a mess.

"Fuck. Coming." choked Han and you feel spurts of his hot cum hit the back of your throat. "Take it, baby. Such a good slut." he pants, emptying himself in your mouth.

Changbin abruptly pulls out, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness, and he pulls your head off of Han by your hair. "Open, quick." he grunts and bullies his cock into your mouth. Three harsh thrusts and he's coming on your tongue too. "Show me, doll. Good girl." He nods in approval when you show him you swallowed every drop. “Belly full of cum.”

Han gets up off the couch to find a snack and a drink, and you almost collapse face first into the cushion. You feel Chan move behind you, spreading your cheeks again for a good look at your used hole.

"Babygirl didn't get to cum did she?" he mocked. You shook your head whimpering. You are so close, and your core feels so tight that you are going to snap at any moment.

You hear the sound of a cap from a bottle and then a familiar feeling of cold lube being applied to your asshole. They're going to fuck your ass.

"Shh... Daddy's just going to loosen you up." he purrs as he begins to prep you for his cock. You rest your head on the cushion and give yourself to Chan, letting him finger fuck your ass until he is three full fingers deep. "Taking me so well. Now for you to feel my cock, yeah? It’s gonna be a tight fit.”

He removes his fingers and presses his cock to your hole.

“That’s it…Good girl…Look at you taking daddy’s cock so well.” He praises as he pushes into you slowly. “Your tight little hole loves to be stretched… doesn’t it. Answer me.”

B-yes…loves to be stretched.” You pant.

“This is what you think about isn’t it? Me deep in your ass.” He starts to fuck you, withdrawing slightly, then pushing in deeper on each thrust. You can’t help but cry out, moan and whimper as his thrusts steadily become faster.

“Next time you’re out in your backyard naked, I’m gonna come around and fuck your ass….just like this…” he pants.

“We’ve managed to hook it up.” Changbin says excitedly.

“Babygirl. Look.” He whispers. You look up to the wall mounted flatscreen to see a close up of your ass with Chan’s enormous cock fucking into you. You turn your head back to see Changbin videoing the action, then your eyes return to the screen to watch your hole being abused.

Han comes to your side to reach underneath you to play with your clit. “You gonna show us how you come, baby?” He smirks.

“Oh fuck! Fuuuuuccckkk!” You squeal, coming hard.

“Good girl! Now daddy’s gonna fill you up. Ready, sweet thing?” His hand comes down to slap your ass.

“Yes, daddy. Fill me up. Need your cum.” You plead.

Chan groans as he releases himself deep in your ass and withdraws himself.

“Princess. Over here right now.” Minho snaps.

You haven’t even a chance to recover from your orgasm, as you stumble over to Minho. “Sit on the coffee table. Spread your legs for me.” He pushes you down to sit in front of him and shoves your legs open. Then he’s suddenly kneeling between them and lapping at your cunt.

You throw your head back and moan. The man knows how to eat pussy, and you’re not sure you will ever be go back to go back to lacklustre oral.

Minho’s mouth moves down to catch the cum leaking from your ass. Now that’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever witnessed.

“Which hole you gonna fuck?” asks Changbin.

Minho pulls away from your pussy and lazily fingers your cunt. “I wanna DP her. Han. You haven’t fucked get yet.”

Minho sits back in his chair, pulling you on top of him and spreading your legs over his. He pulls your heels off and instructs you to press your feet into the cushions beside him and lift yourself up. You do as he says as he lines his cock up with your ass and slowly lowers you onto him.

“S’deep.” You choke.

“Mmm… you feel perfect, Princess. Such a pretty little cockslut for us aren’t you? Gonna be filled with so much cum by the end of this. Full of cum and your holes fucking gaping.” He smirks against your cheek. His hands squeeze your tits as you grind on his cock.

“Come on, Princess. Not getting tired I hope? C’mon, bounce on me…put on a show for the camera.” He hisses.

You’ve forgotten they were recording you. You muster all the energy you can to bounce up and down Minho’s cock and watching the screen to see your hole swallowing it up with ease. Fuck! You are a slut. And you’re fucking loving every second of it.

“Han. Come on.” Minho growls.

Han positions himself in front of you and lines his cock up with your cunt. “Have you done this before, baby?” He asks you.

You don’t answer, you’re about to come again.

“Hey!” He slaps you across the cheek and you come hard around Minho’s cock.

“Fuck, she just came. She’s clamped up. Fuck… quick… Han, fuck her now.” demands Minho.

“So our little lady likes to get roughed up. Huh?” Han shook his head In disbelief, and then groaned low as he pushed his cock into your pussy.

“Oh!!” You groan. “So…full… you’re splitting me in two… shhhiiittt.”

You’re not new to anal sex whatsoever, but you’ve never taken two cocks like this.

“Babygirl…” Chan tugs you by your hair and you turn your head to the side to take his cock in your mouth.

Changbin is on the other side taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock. He’s still holding his camera, aiming it from above, and managing to catch everything that is happening.

All four of them are using your body at the same time. Minho fucking your ass, Han your pussy, and you alternate between Chan and Changbin as they fuck your face.

Your hair is being pulled, someone has a hand wrapped around your neck, your nipples are being pinched and slapped, and Han is spitting on you.

They pull another orgasm from you before moaning and growling as they fill you up with their cum.

Eventually, they pull themselves out of you, they say their farewells, leaving you and Chan alone.

He carries you bridal style to his bathroom, runs you a bath and tucks you into his bed so you can rest.

“Such a good girl for daddy.” He whispers as he slips in bed beside you. “We need organise another gathering soon.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23

#skz smut #chan smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #changbin smut #sorshas fic #sorsha after dark asks

791 notes · View notes

tsuvvy · 10 months ago

Text

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 5

Poison Constriction

Cassandra explores her feelings of having a new little sibling while the others work to get information on where the seemingly invisible father might be. Instead, they find someone heavily involved in this situation and discover a disgusting truth.

Warning: Talk of a controlling serum being put into y/ns blood, mentions of bruising and blood, the poison serum has been an idea cultivating in my mind for awhile, pls just let it cook 😥

Word Count: 3.4k

“Miss Cassandra,” Said woman turned around, seeing Alfred with a tray of little sandwiches. No doubt for you. “While I have you here, Master Bruce asked to see you. He is paying the garden a visit, he asked that if I should see you I should invite you for him.”

“Oh..” Cassandra’s lips parted in a small surprise. Bruce wanted to see her? Why? “Okay, thank you Alfred.” She gave the man a soft thankful smile.

Alfred returned the smile with a gentle one of his own. But before he could walk away, Cassandra spoke up.

“He didn’t say why, did he?” She asked abruptly.

“I am afraid not,” His soft smile turned a bit apologetic.

“Alright, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Thank you again.” Alfred gave her a nod before walking away.

Cassandra stayed where she was for a moment, watching as Alfred walked down the hall with the tray still in hand. She might have needed a moment to build up the courage to go speak to Bruce, or maybe she needed to come up with what she would say to the man. Either way, her nerves were aflame before and while she made her way to the garden where Alfred said Bruce was.

She spotted him on a bench. He was calmly sitting still, almost mistakable for a statue.

Bruce looked at Cassandra, an uncharacteristic subtle smile reaching his lips at the sight of her. It was odd, even if it was common. Bruce saved that smile for only those he cared for deeply. His adoptive children and Alfred getting it most often. Though it was still rare, especially for someone like Jason who made it his own part time job annoying and angering the man. Dying and coming back to life sure didn’t change that habit, if anything it made it worse.

“Cass,” Bruce called out, pulling her out of her thoughts, “Sit.” He didn’t need to gesture to the empty spot next to him.

Cassandra listened. She moved to sit next to the man.

The two sat in silence for a while; silently watching over the flowers and listening to the soft wind and how it would shake the branches of the trees.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked abruptly. Cassandra looked at him, staying silent for a second.

“I’m okay..” Her voice was soft as she looked to the ground.

Bruce nodded slightly at her comment. “But that isn’t true, is it?” He looked down at her, his subtle smile gone now. It was never a luxury anyone close to him could ever witness for a very long time. You had to savor it for the small amount of time it was there.

Cassandra didn’t say anything to his comment. He already knew her lies were just that, lies.

“How are you feeling about everything?” He asked instead.

Cassandra thought about his question for a second. “I don’t really know how to feel.”

“Understandable.” Bruce responded.

The two sat in silence for a little while.

“Y/n,” She looked up at him, and he looked back, confusion written subtly on his stoic face, “Their name.” Cassandra clarified. She saw his eyes widen slightly, “Their name is Y/n.”

“When did they tell you this?” He asked.

“They got out of the room, they picked the lock when Damian wasn’t there,” She told him while turning back to look out at the flowers and delicately crafted and cut bushes. “They weren’t looking for a fight, pretty much all we did was.. Talk,” She shrugged her shoulders lightly, “They asked why I’d left David, and…” She paused.

Bruce gave her a second before pressing her to continue, “and?”

“And they.. I told them they were safe. They didn’t know what it meant. So I. I taught them what the word safe means. And they told me their name.

Bruce nodded his head lightly, turning to look at the flowers and bushes himself.

“That's a start, they’re starting to trust you and Damian a bit, however surprising it may be.” Bruce said. He lifted up a hand and gently placed it on Cassandra’s head. “You did good, Cassandra.”

Her eyes widened at the contact and the praise. In a sense, she was still a lot like you. No matter how long she’s been with Bruce and the Batfamily, she might not ever get truly used to being in a healthy environment. Not fully, anyway.

“Bruce…” Her voice was soft. He didn’t do anything to tell her he acknowledged his name slipping from her lips, but she knew he was listening. “I don’t..” She hesitated, “I don’t know how to be a big sister..”

Silence overtook the two, apart from the gentle wind rustling the nature around them.

“It’s not something you can just know, Cassandra.” He told her. Cassandra didn’t respond to that.

A silence once again overtook the two.

“There's this feeling in my gut, like a weed growing in it.” Cassandra abruptly spoke through the silence.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen him for a year!?” Jason yelled.

“Red Hood calm down!” Kate yelled at him.

The two were at Ace Chemicals in their vigilante suits. They hadn’t expected to find someone that has been involved with David in the past.

“I mean exactly that!” The guy yelled, a desperation in his voice as the Red Hood shook him by the collar of his shirt. After his statement, the vigilante dropped him and he fell to the ground.

The man rubbed his neck, trying to soothe the pain of how his shirt was so tightly held.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Kate, or Batwoman, asked him.

“No, he just straight up vanished,” the guy said.

Batwoman looked to Red Hood who had taken a few steps back.

“Mind if we look around?” Batwoman looked back at the man.

“N-No! Go ahead!” He quickly answered, almost fearful of what either vigilante might do to him if he said he did actually mind.

“Great,” Batwoman answered, “Glad you don’t.” She commented, an amused smirk on her face as she moved past him.

She started looking around; not that she had anywhere to specifically start.

And for the first about 14 minutes, nothing was found by either vigilante.

“This place has nothing,” Jason said, making sure to keep the man he was once interrogating in his view.

“It’s gotta have something,” Batwoman sighed, looking behind a few tubs of chemicals. She hadn’t met you yet. All she knew about you was pretty much the extent of what everyone else minus Cass knew.

Red Hood crossed his arms, huffing in annoyance as he looked at a few jars on some random desk. They looked poisonous. Probably gas too. One wiff would probably kill you.

“I’m gonna check further in,” Batwoman said, coming back out from behind the tubs of chemicals she had found nothing out of the ordinary behind. “Stay with him,” She told Red Hood.

“Yeah, alright,” He said.

Batwoman began walking into a back area of Ace Chemicals. There was a door into one room and then stairs leading upward to a few more rooms that were all next to each other.

She decided to go into the room on the bottom first.

Batwoman cautiously turned the rusty old knob, keeping her guard up. Ace Chemicals is known for criminal activity, I mean, it’s quite literally the birth place of Harley Quinn. It’s where Joker had pushed her into that vatt of chemicals all those years ago. You had to expect anything in this place.

“Ugh,” Batwoman cringed, bringing a hand to her nose, “Jeez, it smells like three month old eggs in here.”

She stepped into the room, keeping a hand over her nose as she began to look around.

There was really nothing to note in the room. It was obviously some type of hang out area no one had been in in probably years. A lounging couch that stank of rat poop and an assortment of other things that were just rotting under the cusions. Then there was a counter with a sink. One that had piles of dirty dishes in it. She had found a few rats licking off the plates; she didn’t bother them, but she did cringe. Then the fridge. She didn’t even want to open the thing. She could already tell that’s where the smell was coming from. And sure enough, inside the fridge was a variety of disgusting, old, moldy, and rotted food inside.

“Don’t think Kelsey is gonna want this muffin anymore,” Batwoman commented, looking at the container with a chocolate chip muffin inside and branded with the name Kelsey on the lid of the container. It was all moldy and gross.

“Blegh,” Batwoman gagged, closing the fridge with her foot.

She looked in the old wooden cabinets, behind and under the tables. Everywhere she looked, nothing but rats and their feces and disgusting bugs were found.

“Well that was a waste,” She grumbled as she walked out of that room, closing the door behind her. Now it was time to look in the two rooms upstairs.

Batwoman walked up the stairs, deciding to go to the first room. She read the plate next to the door that read, ‘lab room.’

“This should be fun,” She sighed, opening the door and cautiously peeking in and looking around. From first glance, there didn’t look to be anything in here of note. “This better not be a waste of time,” She grumbled as she stepped in.

“Alright, I brought a new kind of food this time.” Damian said as he entered the room.

You hadn't turned to look at him from where you sat kneeled on the floor, your head resting on your arms that rested on the window sill.

Damian didn't move, you knew he didn't. There weren't any footsteps coming farther into the room.

“What are you doing?” He asked, and you finally heard him start walking, and soon you heard something being placed on the nightstand.

“Out.” You said, finally turning to look at the boy and raising one of your hands to tap on the window. He was standing staring at you near your nightstand, his hands in his pockets.

“Outside?” He questioned as he finally started moving throughout the room closer to you.

You had turned back to look out the window once more once he was standing at your side.

Damian's gaze rested downward on you. You looked so calm staring out the windows. Though your blank face looked as if you were displeased, he knew you weren't. He was the same way with his own blank face.

“What that?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by your voice. He looked at what you were looking out the window at.

Your pointer finger which rested against the window pointed towards two creatures in the air, gracefully maneuvering through the gentle breeze.

“Birds,” Damian said bluntly. “They’re birds.”

You looked up at the boy, “Bi..” You paused, unsure of if you were going to say it correctly or not.

“Birds.” He said one more time. “They’re flying.”

“Bird.” You finally attempted.

“Mhm,” he nodded.

You looked out the window once more. Watching the birds fly through the air. “Want that.” You said.

“Want that?” Damian repeated in the form of a question.

You nodded, “Want that.” You pointed to the bird.

Damian wasn’t quite sure if you meant you wanted a bird or if you wanted what the birds had. Freedom.

“Bird is…” You paused, watching the bird in awe.

“Pretty?” Damian questioned after a few seconds of silence. You nodded.

“Yeah..” He agreed softly, looking away from you and out the window at the birds again. “They are.”

“Dami.” His eyes widened a bit and he looked down at you again. Dami? Dami..? You were looking up at him, your face a blank one like his.

“Yeah..?” He managed to ask.

You pointed to the free spot on the floor next to you. “Sit.” You told him. Not in a commanding way like most would hear from your tone. He knew you didn’t mean it like that.

He listened and sat down on the floor next to you.

For you to actually invite him to sit next to you, and so close, was honestly a big step. He noticed you’d opened up a bit quickly with him, but he assumed it was because of the age difference between the two of you. There wasn’t really a big one.

“Dad..” You said softly. He looked to you, waiting to see where you would go with this, “You hate him.” It was more of a statement than a question. You didn’t look at him. You had rested your chin back down on your arms that rested on the window sill.

Damian stayed quiet, keeping his gaze on you for a moment before letting it drop down to the surface of the window sill and then out the window. “Yeah.” He answered. Though he knew you already knew that. “I do.”

A quiet fell over the room. The two of you staring out the window.

“He scares me…” You admitted.

He looked at you. Your expression, still blank, had grown a bit more solemn. Like a little puppy that had just been yelled at or hit for just trying to get love or have a bit of fun. It broke him to see you like this. So young and yet already so broken and wounded.

“Ugh,” Batwoman groaned as she walked out of the room she had just been looking in. “Theres nothing in this disgusting dump..” She grumbled, looking down at all of the chemical pits and barrels that Ace Chemicals held. “I doubt there’s anything actually here all these chemicals haven’t hidden.” She sighed, now making her way down the stares and back the way she came.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap!” Red Hood exclaimed. Batwoman started walking a bit faster, hoping to get there before he would probably kill the guy the two found.

“Please, please,” The man cried desperately, “The guy is going to kill me!”

Batwoman was met with a familiar scene. Red Hood holding the man in the air the collar of his shirt. But this time, the man’s face was bloodied. Blood ran down from his nose, he had a busted lip that was bleeding, and an array of cuts on his face.

“Red Hood!” Batwoman yelled, “What the hell are you doing!?”

“Tell me!” Red Hood yelled, shaking the man within the air. Tears were bubbling in the guy’s eyes.

“He.. He’ll kill me!” The man repeated. Red Hood scoffed.

“And if you don’t tell me what the hell you know, I’ll kill you!” He told the man, his red helmet growing an eary and angry sense to it.

“Fine! Fine!” The man screamed, his legs flailing around in the air, “Please, I’ll tell you! Just put me down!”

“Red Hood put him down!” Batwoman demanded.

Jason dropped the man, letting him fall to floor with a thud.

“Well,” Red Hood demanded himself, looking down at the man on the floor, “Go on!”

The man winced at his commanding and angry tone, “The guy you’re looking for. Cain or whatever.” His voice was shaking in fear, and he was looking down at the floor in shame. Of himself, or maybe something else. “He came here a few months ago after his disappearance. Vanished for about 3 months, came to me. He had some..” He sounded unsure. “He was asking for some weird stuff,” he shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Said he needed it for some project, I didn’t ask what. But he did have this weird sense of pride to him. One he never usually had.”

“Can you get to the damn point!” Red Hood demanded.

“Hey,” Batwoman said sternly, “Let him speak.”

The man recieved a nod from Batwoman, telling him to go on. “Cain wanted some type of like.. Serum. Said it needed to enhance and quicken the development of metahuman abilities. Then he had a thought to make another serum that would make someone more…” The man paused and sighed loudly, “Hell, I’ll just say it. More easily manipulable.”

Batwoman and Red Hood stood silent for a moment. Batwoman’s lips parted as she took in the information, and her eyes widened behind her domino mask. The two vigilante’s exchanged a glance.

“Hey,” Batwoman started, looking towards the man.

“Y-Yeah?” He looked back, a bit nervous of what might happen to him.

“Do you have any samples or spares of that?” She asked.

The man sat for a second.

“Well!” Jason exclaimed, making the man jump.

“Yes! Yes, I do!” The man scrambled to his feet, walking to a station a little ways away behind some tubs of chemicals with the two vigilantes close behind him.

“Damnit..” The man muttered as he scrounged around in the desk, throwing papers and gadgets sloppily in his hunt for the serum. “Here!” He announced, pulling out a green liquid serum in a small tube. He handed it to Batwoman.

“Not a lot, huh.” She commented, swishing the liquid around in the enclosed tube.

“Sorry,” He apologized, his expression growing a bit solemn, “I tried to save at least a bit, but. The recipe was tricky.” He began to scrounge through the desk once more before pulling out a paper with sloppy handwriting on it. “The ingredients were hard and illegal to get, then the only perfected batch he took immediately. It was hard to even steal that tiny bit out of it.” He handed the paper to Batwoman as well. “That’s the recipe for it.”

“Alright.” She nodded, turning on her heel and beginning to walk away with Red Hood next to her.

Batwoman stopped however, turning to look at the man and Red Hood went ahead, “C’mon (nickname).” She said, gesturing her head for him to follow and speaking like it was the obvious that he come along.

“Huh..?” His brows furrowed.

“Hurry it up!” Batwoman called. “You have vital information about this stupid serum and we can’t have you getting caught by the wrong people.” The man was startled into pace. He began to catch up with the vigilantes, still confused and quite bewildered by what the hell is happening.

“Damn, this just keeps getting messier and messier..” TIm groaned, running a hand along his face and moving it up to run through his hair. He was tired, anyone could tell at a glance. “Alright, give it here.” He spoke, putting a hand out to take the serum from Batwoman. “Who’s the straggler?” He asked as he got up and walked towards a machine.

“Hm,” Batwoman turned to look over her shoulder at the man.

“Um.. My name is Sullivan Bishop.” He answered her unsaid question.

“He’s got connections with Cain. Helped him make the serum.” She said as she crossed her arms, watching Tim carefully pour the bit of serum into a compartment of the machine and clicking a few buttons. Soon, it started up and started analyzing the liquid.

“Do you know what he used the serum for?” Sullivan asked. Everyone was silent. Sullivan visibly curled in on himself in defeat. He was terrified. He was in the batcave, surely not going to be let out anytime soon. And he was so lost. He had no clue what was happening. He’d never wanted to get involved with Cain to begin with. He knew he was shady, knew that Cain would get him in trouble. But this? This serum that was testing positive for countless things on the Batcomputer. This serum that could be considered a poison.

This was beyond anything shady he’d heard or expected from Cain. Whatever he used this serum for was downright psychotic.

Tim stared up at the computer, honestly at a loss for words.

“What the hell did you use?” Tim’s voice was breathless. But the look he gave to Sullivan sent chills down the man’s spine. “Toluene, lead..” His voice trailed off. “No wonder the kid was so set in killing Cassandra. This serum makes it so she can’t think for herself.”

“What the hell..” Red Hood’s voice trailed off.

“We can only imagine how long this was being administered into her blood stream.” Tim finished.

“I..” Sullivan’s eyes bubbled with tears, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know.. I… I didn’t know what he would use it for. I… Please I. I didn’t know..” He was rambling.

“You didn’t know?” Jason questioned, his tone growing angry and threatening.

“N.. No. No I didn’t I promise!!” Sullivan’s waorks were jumblings up as they tumbled from his mouth in fear of what Red Hood might do.

“Red Hood!” Batwoman stopped him from walking toward the shaking man with a hand on his chest, “Take a walk.” She made eye contact with him through his helmet when she ordered him.

<- Chapter 4 Chapter 6 ->

@redh00dsbf @02006 @shikanosn @rainnyydaysworld @notsaelty

579 notes · View notes

yanderemommabean · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere red room idea

The Red rooms. It’s not something He really thought he’d find himself using but here he is, walking up the corridor with a key card in his pocket. It’s definitely a secret society type of deal, code words, secret hand gestures, one use keys, all the security one could imagine. The first time he even heard of such a place like this, he assumed it was dark internet fetish mumbo jumbo.

But after he found you, well, the right people found him and led him to the right place. Not a room of pain, but one of pleasure, to show his darling all of his intense love and emotion and then some.

He hasn’t even booked a room yet, he’s here as a sort of consultation visit. To see if he really has the balls to do this and show that yes, he adores you, and that his love outweighs anyone else’s.

Sliding the card into the door brought him into an empty room besides a desk, a few chairs, and two large filing cabinets. He takes a look around, quickly surveying the area, before stepping inside fully and sitting in the chair facing the large office chair in front of him. Before he can let his shoulders relax, a man follows in behind him, followed by a woman as well, both dressed professionally and seeming very…happy.

“Ah! It’s good to see you, Mr-”

“Lee, you can just call me Lee. And you are?” He asks, gesturing to the woman standing beside the man in the suit as he begins to open a manilla envelope, spreading the papers out on the table.

“Victoria. We can leave it at that. I can tell that you know secrecy and customer privacy are our top priority with this business” She says with a knowing smile, sliding the papers over to face them towards the doctor.

“Now, Lee, What we have here is a very basic outline of what we can do for you and that love bug you’ve found yourself. We celebrate rather than punish our loved ones here, and want them to understand that to their core! We find that the red room experience helps!” The man exclaims with excitement, but has yet to really introduce himself.

Lee was told to expect that however. The leader behind this all was kind enough to reach out but he wasn’t to expect anything too personal. “All business” was his very aura, and Lee could respect that. He nods along as Victoria took the reigns, explaining some of their core beliefs before getting to what Lee really wanted to know.

“We can make the room however you please, lease it for up to four days at a time with personnel who checks in every four hours with their own special keys, for the darlings sake. As much as we wish to fully trust our customers, we will not take the risk of them dying or being seriously injured in any way. As stated, this is a way to show love and we give you the tools to do so! “ Victoria then spreads apart the papers, pointing here and there as she explains a bit more, intriguing Lee with every bit. “We have romantic layouts like at a hotel, we have BDSM specialist rooms, we have very highly rated toys and devices that we inspect and clean before each room is ready, and we have a live stream option if you’re the type who thinks everyone should see the pleasure you’re darling is receiving! I personally recommend the tribbing machines with the black rose theme if you prefer the dom and sub type of vibe, but we can personalize however you like!”

Huh. Wow. They’re very thorough aren’t they?

The business man nods, sitting back in his seat as he adjusts his tie. “I started many companies in my life, all based on bringing smiles and joy, and it’s my personal belief that there needs to be a company looking out for your lover! Love, adventurous or more mellow, is a beautiful thing that our darlings need to be showered in as much as possible. If you’d like, this can also be set up in a way to just calmly express your love to your darling, but I will clarify that it isn’t guaranteed to go well…I advise getting our crews to pick them up and deliver them for you, with every person being given a background check of course! Safety and security is what comes first for your darling”

Lee was a bit flabbergasted to say the least. They talk so professionally, have such a strange ethic to them, and they act as if he’s about to buy a company or large house rather than finally get ahold of the love of his life. It’s…Odd but charming. He can’t say he’s turned away from this, in fact he has a few ideas for his own red room.

“Are they CPR trained and do they have basic first aid knowledge?” Lee asks as he looks over some more of the photos, liking the array of toys they had up for use to add to the room, each one costing extra of course but for what he had planned…it wouldn’t be too bad.

Victoria smirks, laughing lightly in amusement “I can see we’ve caught even more of your attention. We can make sure these personnel are trained for the pick up, but our permanent staff are already trained in first aid help and some, even small surgical emergencies. You know, always needing to be prepared and all”.

They talk a few more things out, Lee deciding that if these people were serious, then he could trust them. If they crossed him in any way, he’d easily rid at least a handful of them. He didn’t get that gut feeling he usually does when people are lying to him however. This felt thorough and legit and well…Professional.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you Mr Lee. We’ll be getting in touch with you shortly! You wont regret setting this up-” the business man says with a firm handshake, smiling in an almost uncanny way. “And remember, when you’re in a bind, one of our smiles will ease your mind"

-Mommabean (This was so silly but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!)

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #mommabean #yandere CEO #yandere red room #yandere male #Victoria my oc #CEO my oc #Dr lee my oc #Doctor lee my oc #lovely smiles corps

801 notes · View notes

ihaveforgortoomany · 5 months ago

Text

Reverse 1999 and child soldiers (just rambling) (global friendly)

It doesn't take long for anyone to realise most of the cast (excluding awakened, entities like Voyager and AlienT, and people like Eternity) are young: ranging from most being 17-16 with adults around their 20s and Shamane currently being the oldest (excluding the above) at around 40. (Edit hes 45 thanks for clarifying)

Alright you say, this is a gacha game ofc the characters would be around these ranges and we hope every patch to get character that is above 40 (wdym someone like Tooth Fairy isn't 30? Same for Kakania and Isolde, how are they 19 and 18 respectively?For example). Hey I would like more older characters too, but I think the ages are partially intentional if we look into lore on a thematic level.

Ok. We already know the Foundation, Laplace and now Zeno (though it was ofc from Lilya) they produce child soldiers, workers and scientists:

Vertin is the Timekeeper at 12

Sonetto probably became a field investigator around 14-16 at best (correct me if we have a better frame of reference)

Ms Moission in her character profile apparently was a field investigator at 14. (I spelt her name wrong I think)

Mesmer Jr started working at the age of 12

As of the release of the Zeno anecdote we know Lilya around 14 was already in field missions and has seen the state of war.

(Probably could include X, Horrorpedia here but I don't have much info)

What am I getting at? Characters being young in their fields of work is completely intentional, one due to the Storm in the case of the Foundation as the first had taken nearly the entire workforce (plus Child Labour Laws) so in desperation to maintain numbers and order the age to become investigators, soldiers and scientists became much lower. I don't know if the SPDM existed before the Storm but the way it functions primarily serves to replenish those lost workforce.

And two: the perception of arcanists and the importance placed on the manifestation of their arcane skill as young as possible.

We see this in the case of Mesmer and Isolde/Trista.

Mesmer Jr once she was tested to see if she had her arcane skill immediately was set to manage mentally unstable patients at the age of 12. (She alongside Vertin probably needs the most therapy)

For Trista this was the seance her mother brought to at the age of 3, dying as a result and leading to her mother with Isolde to delay by 3 years. (Acting as if that was a mercy which it really is not)

There is an emphasis on an arcane families and arcanists maintaining their societal status/ relevance through children developing their arcane skills as soon as possible plus the idea of childhood and working is flipped on its head with the presence of arcanum.

Ok idk if worded that bit correctly but in short: our idea of when a child should be working (which is never) or the time someone should be in teaching before they get into a profession (TF, Kakania and Madam Z) is warped and absent in R1999. For Kakania, shes 19 but I would argue this is because of how she had dropped out and decided to be an unlicensed doctor. Most characters being younger is the result of arcanum being present in the world.

Moreover there is a general theme of lost childhoods/ forced to grow up fast in the younger cast. Exclude characters like Ezra, Matilda (so far) and Spathodea since they are relatively fine/ not deeply traumatised. Everyone else, Vertin, Sonetto, Mesmer Jr and characters like Eagle, Monlicht, Oliver Fog were forced to grow up fast despite their young age.

Summary: characters being in younger age ranges either being literal child soldiers or certain adults being relatively young is the result of the devastation of the Storm alongside the different perception of age in the arcanum world, there the manifestation of your arcane skill seems to be used as a sign of maturity and readiness to be thrown into work (Mesmer and Isolde being put om their respective career paths at a very early age) (or your Constantine celebrating the erasure of Child Labour Laws)

#reverse 1999 #ramblings #r1999 #vertin #analysis #vertin reverse 1999 #isolde #idk to tag everyone here thats long lol #still i would like older characters than the i look 40 but actually 20 thing #idk if i explained properly here

164 notes · View notes

brokenmenswhore · 7 months ago

Text

betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

part 3

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: angst (a lil from everyone)

a/n: are you guys dying for the smut are you just dying for it i promise we’re almost there

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“This is your fault!” Aegon screamed, bursting into the small council room, doors swinging shut as he slammed a thin piece of paper down on the table in front of Aemond.

Aemond remained level-headed, eye traveling down to the paper in front of him as he began to read.

“You,” Aegon stomped forward, an accusatory finger pointed at his brother, “you granted her access to a raven. She must have asked him to come. This is on you.”

“Speak plainly, Aegon,” Alicent snapped, elbows resting on the table as she wiped her fingers across her eyes in frustration, “we do not understand your hysterics.”

“The precious prince allowed his newly betrothed to send a letter to Dragonstone,” Aegon spat, “without clearing its contents.”

“I do not understand,” Alicent spoke.

“Our beloved nephew has requested to visit,” Aemond spoke, completely unphased by the rage exhibited by his brother, “he is aware the Stark girl is here.”

“Jacaerys requested an audience with you?” Alicent clarified, bewildered at the boldness of the young prince.

“He must only be so bold by request. She must have requested he ask such a thing. He would not do it on his own. I dare say his cock is not big enough.”

“Aegon!” his mother scolded, taking a deep breath, “I assume we are all in agreement that this is not permissible?”

Lord Wylde, Master of Laws, raised a hand, “if I may, Your Grace, denying this request may only worsen things.”

“How?” Aegon asked.

“If the boy does not intend to commit an infraction against the crown, denying him travel may seem like an act of fear. The false queen may believe you see her as a threat that cannot breach the castle walls, for if she does, she will take the throne.”

“And you think her capable of doing such things should she be in my presence, Lord Wylde?” Aegon said, standing at the head of the table, palms flat against the wood.

“Your Grace, I mean no offense-“

“We are talking about Jacaerys, not the false queen, Lord Wylde,” Aemond interrupted, “and he would not dare try anything rash. He knows he would not survive a battle against my sword.”

Aegon raised a hand and gestured toward his brother. “Are you saying you think the crown should allow this visitation?”

“I do not see why not.”

“Are you simply trying to absolve yourself of guilt, brother?” Aegon’s tone began to calm down, “for you are the one to blame here.”

“Why don’t I simply ask the girl if she requested his presence?” Aemond suggested, sighing through the words in annoyance at his brother’s temperament.

“She would not tell you,” Aegon replied.

“I believe she would. She is many things, but she has not yet proven herself to be dishonest.”

“If she is so trustworthy, why did she insist on sending a letter without clearance in the first place? What do you possibly think her writings contained? A declaration of her love for you?”

Aemond slammed a hand on the desk and stood up abruptly, his chair sliding back on the stone floor behind him. Aegon was taunting him now.

“If you think yourself incapable of holding ground against our nephew, then by all means, brother, deny his request. I, however, know that no destruction could come from the hands of Jacaerys. I believe him too weak. Do you not?”

Aegon sighed in frustration, trying to remain discreet with his eyes as he glanced to the members of the council, all staring at him in wait.

“Mother?” he spoke, head turned toward Alicent, awaiting her input.

“It is rather dangerous,” she began, her mild slightly changed, “but I believe it may be taken as a sign of good faith. We simply must be diligent in our protective measures upon his arrival.”

Aegon dropped his head. He did not want Jacaerys to come to King’s Landing- he hated his young nephew. Jacaerys was Rhaenyra’s heir, making him a direct threat to Aegon’s crown, and Jacaerys was the reason everything with you had become so difficult. Aemond was not a great help, but if Jacaerys had not proposed a betrothal upon hearing Aemond’s announcement of his intentions to wed you, Aegon would not be in this predicament.

Denying this request was an assurance of Aegon’s safety against the Blacks, but could also be taken as a gesture of war, a true strife between a broken family. Accepting this request put Aegon’s livelihood in danger, but he did not want to appear weak enough as to think Jacaerys could be a legitimate threat to him or his power.

“Does no one think the boy may have ulterior motive?” spoke Ser Tyland Lannister, Master of Coin, “we are discussing inviting the enemy into our walls. There should be no question about what decision is best. He should not come.”

“What do you believe he is capable of, Ser Tyland?” Aemond asked, almost mocking.

“For one, how are we to ensure only he will arrive? Granting him access to our city may spark a chain reaction. Other Blacks may think it okay to come here. Rhaenyra herself, for one.”

The small council remained quiet, debating upon Tyland’s words. Many of them had not considered the possibility of Rhaenyra taking the opportunity to come, likely on dragonback.

“We should be worried about Rhaenyra always, not just if her son were to come,” Ser Criston Cole chimed in, “if she intended on bringing herself and Syrax here, she would have done so. She does not need a formal invitation. I believe her capable of doing as she pleases, when she pleases. The threat of her arrival is always imminent, I do not believe it more prominent should we allow your nephew to come, Your Grace.”

“Ser Cole is right,” Aemond agreed, “the same applies for our young nephew. If he wanted to, he could simply arrive of his own volition. He, instead, had the courtesy to request an audience with us, lest he decide to take it by force instead. We should take this request as a gesture of good will.”

“Does no one understand how detrimental this would be?” Aegon said, clearly becoming frustrated with the council he was receiving, “we are at war. There is a tremendous deal of pressing matters to attend to and we are here, discussing if it is wise to allow the enemy into our home.”

“None of us believe this war could have been avoided,” Alicent’s tone was calm, pulling Aegon out of his head, “but I believe there are those of us that wish it different. He is still your family, and he truly may just want to see the Stark girl. Maybe this will render our situation capable of change.”

Aegon took his mother’s words to heart. He was perhaps the only one who truly wanted a war, he was angry, and he wanted to spill blood, but he trusted his mother. Catastrophes may have been avoided if there was still a sense of family amongst the Targaryens.

“Tell him to come,” Aegon said, “but only come alone.”

✶

Aegon had considered storming into your chambers, voice raised and demanding to know the contents of your letter to Jacaerys, but he had not seen or spoken to you since his moment of vulnerability. He did not know what to say or how to act in your presence, and he thought it better to avoid placing himself in any circumstance that would require him to think of it.

Instead, he found himself beside Aemond, watching from atop the Red Keep as Vermax’s wings came into focus, a hint of green visible in the distant sky when the sun hit at just the right angle.

When Aegon felt comfortable that it was only Jacaerys who was approaching, he retreated to the throne room, Aemond maintaining his position to assist in security measures should the King’s Guard need him.

Jacaerys landed Vermax directly in front of the Keep doors, the wind from the dragon’s wings nearly knocking over guards and smallfolk alike.

The moment Vermax calmed, Jacaerys left his mount, feet not on the ground for a moment before the King’s Guard rushed him and began to pat him down. His hand remained tightly secured to the hilt of his sword, at is always had, as the men stepped away, gesturing him forward. Jacaerys nodded, entering the keep and directing himself toward the throne room. He expected nothing less of his uncle, knowing his desire to appear powerful would manipulate his choice of placement.

He marched forward, the guards desperately attempting to keep up with his footing, as he swung the doors to the throne room open, finding Aegon sat upon the mess of swords, expecting his entrance.

Jacaerys did not bow, the only reason he stopped at the steps of the throne being a gesture of good faith, an assurance he did not intend to charge his uncle, sword in hand.

“It has been quite a while, uncle,” Jacaerys spoke, matter-of-factly.

It bothered Aegon to no end that he did not speak first. “As it has.”

Jacaerys and Aegon exchanged a glance for a brief few moments, neither sure of how to initiate a conversation.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, fighting with every cell of his being to remain calm. “You know why I am here, uncle. Where is she?”

Aegon smiled, his posture resting in a casual position on the throne. “You already know her whereabouts. Is that not why you’ve come?”

“Let me see her.”

“No.”

“Let me. See her,” Jacaerys repeated, a pause between the words.

“Or what?”

Jacaerys cocked his head to the side, trying to control his breathing. He refused to be the reason any hostility was initiated.

“Do you think I’ve traveled all this way for a bickering match?”

Despite Jace’s better judgement, he could not mask his bitter tone.

“You asked to come. I do not remember ever promising you an audience with the Stark.”

“Her brother misses her dearly.”

“I am sure he does.”

“As do I.”

Aegon did not expect anything remotely close to a genuine confession from Jacaerys. He searched Jacaerys’s eyes for any hint of regret, but to no avail. Jacaerys had meant to toy with Aegon’s heart; there was hope that if Aegon could view him as human, as family once again, he would he more lenient with granting requests. He knew Aegon had a somewhat tender heart underneath his cold exterior.

“She is not a piece of property, Aegon, tell me where you are keeping her.”

“Soon she will be wed to Aemond, in which case, she will be more my family than yours. She is not property, sure. She is Aemond’s.”

“We do not hold family hostage.”

“How is your mother? Hm?” Aegon started, beginning to play with the fabric on the hilt if his dagger as he shifted the subject, “still crying over a lost throne?”

Jacaerys’ nostrils flared in annoyance, the muscles on his neck flexing as Aegon laughed, happy to have garnered a reaction from his nephew. He loved to tease Jace, annoy him, get him all worked up, and force him into a rage. Jacaerys knew this, and fought against it as hard as he could.

“Be nice, brother, Jacaerys is family after all,” Aemond interrupted, a confident walk taking him across the room until he was standing but a few feet away from Jacaerys. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to see the girl? She is all too pleasurable to look at.”

“Mind your tongue, uncle,” Jacaerys snapped back.

“You are rather possessive of my betrothed,” Aemond teased.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, bowing his head briefly to reset his temperament. “Where is she, Aemond?”

“In her room, where else?”

“It is not her room if it is not her home.”

“Aemond will be her home soon,” Aegon chimed in, “and I’ve already told you you may not see her. She is not permitted to leave her chambers.”

Jacaerys’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as he looked back and forth between his two uncles. “First you kidnap her, and now you do not even grant her the courtesy of leaving a singular room?”

“Though I will say, Aemond seems to have no issue letting her out at will,” Aegon spoke, resentment evident in his voice.

“Meaning what?” Jacaerys asked for clarification.

“Meaning nothing,” Aemond said, rushing to get the words in before Aegon could elaborate.

The three Targaryens exchanged glances, unsure how to continue. The conversation was going nowhere, and Jacaerys was concerned about Aegon’s previous comment. What was Aemond doing to you?

“I did not come all this way for nothing,” Jacaerys stated, “let me see her.”

“What do we get in return for granting you an audience?” Aemond bartered.

“The gift of keeping your life.”

Aemond snickered. “You could not beat me if you tried.”

“I do not wish to. I, however, will do whatever it takes.”

“You would dare draw your sword at us just to speak with your Northern whore?” Aegon threw your scandalous reputation at Jacaerys, hoping it would strike a chord and cause him to act irrationally.

“I would,” Jacaerys focused on Aegon, “and if she is truly a whore, you should exhibit no true possessiveness toward her.”

Aegon stood, ready to combat his nephew’s words, potentially with his dagger.

“Under supervision, of course,” Aemond spoke, cutting off Aegon’s thoughts and actions, “I’m sure such a thing can be arranged.”

“I do not answer to you,” Jacaerys spat.

“Then why did you ask permission to come here?”

“I will not be responsible for worsening a war.”

Aemond gave Jacaerys a slight nod. Aemond’s greatest gift was his inability to be manipulated. Each and every decision he made was cold and calculated, never faltering on his own personal plans.

“I’m sure you expect conditions.”

“I do not need a handmaiden present to speak to my future wife.”

“You will not have a handmaiden present,” Aemond sighed, “but I require to be present for anyone who expects an audience with my betrothed.”

Aegon sighed and threw his hands up. Aemond had a habit of negotiating, despite never seeking Aegon’s authority to do so.

Jacaerys remembered your letter. It is imperative that he believe me good on my word. He was angry, and unafraid to contest your betrothal to Aemond, believing you to still be betrothed to him. He would call you his betrothed to the ends of the earth, but he was cautious to not mentioned your promise to him in your letter.

“Fine.”

If it meant he could see you, he would bear more time spent with his uncle.

Aemond showed Jacaerys to your quarters, silence befalling them both. They had much to say to one another, but neither of them wanted to fight. Aemond just wanted Jacaerys to leave, and Jacaerys just wanted to see you.

Aemond gave a small knock to your apartment door, something he never did.

The unfamiliar sound caught you off guard. “Come in,” you called toward the door, expecting to see an inexperienced handmaiden enter.

When Aemond appeared, you stood up abruptly, nervous as to why he was here in the middle of the day. Was he revoking your access to the streets? Had Aegon discovered your secret? Was he aware of your business in the streets? Were you being further punished for existing?

Every worry, every thought, every nervous feeling swiftly left your body as Jacaerys walked through the door, stopping short the moment he saw you. Your breathing caught in your throat, a sharp gasp lost before it could be completed.

Jacaerys’s features softened the instant he saw you. He nearly forgot how beautiful you were. The crown had only given you lavish green dresses, forcing you to look as one of them. Despite Jacaerys’s internal recoil at the sight, you wore the color well, and he knew it was not your choice. He believed that you would look beautiful in any color, even that of the enemy.

“Jacaerys,” you spoke, so softly he wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t giving you his complete attention.

“Hi,” he spoke, both of you completely frozen in place.

Aemond noticed the way you looked at his nephew. Your eyes was softer than they were when they were focused on him, your gaze usually cold and callous, unable to show any vulnerability in front of him. When you looked at Jacaerys, your features relaxed so much, you nearly cried. It bothered Aemond. He did not realize how much you truly resented him until he saw how you gazed upon someone you did not resent.

“W-“ you choked. You were nearly crying from overwhelming disbelief, and a lack of trust at the situation, “what are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” Jacaerys said, moving his feet toward you in desperation to touch you, “I had to know you were alright.”

Jacaerys took your hands in his own. His voice dropped, low and soft enough to signify his words were only meant for your ears, not Aemond’s, “and I missed you.”

A few tears fell from your eyes as you disconnecting your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. Jace’s hands wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly as he pulled you as close to him as he could. Your bodies melted together, the comfort of one another consuming you until your eyes blinked open and you saw Aemond, the sudden reminder that you were not alone, and you were not as safe as you felt in Jacaerys’s arms.

You pulled away from the hug, turning away from Jacaerys and taking a seat in front of the fireplace. Despite the early hour, the fire was lit, the dancing of the flames the only entertainment and stimulation for you during your days.

Jacaerys followed you, kneeling down on the floor in front of you. “Are you okay?” he counciled.

You discreetly gestured toward the door, reminding him that Aemond was present, and therefore you had to act differently than you would if you were alone.

“He insisted on supervision,” Jacaerys explained, disappointment in his voice.

“Nothing more pressing to attend to?” you called toward the door, turning slightly so Aemond knew the question was meant for him.

“You know I like to keep an eye on you,” Aemond responded, referencing him escorting you at night, hoping the mystery of his words would bother Jacaerys.

Jacaerys took a sharp breath. “I want you to come back with me.”

Your eyes widened. “I do not wish to remain here, Jace, but Vhagar is capable of melting much more snow.”

You could both hear Aemond snicker behind you, but neither acknowledged it.

“If you stay here, I fear they can force your hand,” Jacaerys pleaded.

“They have already forced my hand,” your voice broke, fighting any sadness or tears in your confession.

“You have promised yourself to me,” Jacaerys whispered, hoping Aemond was not intent on listening, whispering almost inaudibly “or did you not mean your written words? I will not allow them to force you to abandon me.”

There was no volume low enough to avoid Aemond’s impeccable hearing, especially when he was determined to hear every word his nephew spoke. Aemond stomped over in a rage.

“You what?” Aemond snarled, eye focused on you.

“What?” you responded, playing dumb with a confidence that had him almost believing you.

“I trusted you,” Aemond was furious, “I trusted you to do the right thing, and instead you sent a raven saying you intend to honor your betrothal to him? Did we not have an understanding?”

Despite his anger, Aemond mostly felt betrayed. He thought there was an unspoken understanding of trust between you two, and he was jealous of your affections toward Jacaerys.

“Have I given you any reason to relinquish your trust in me?” you combatted.

“Do you think me a fool?” Aemond spat, “I heard your little catch-up.”

You stood, Jacaerys following suit and standing guard next to you as you began to raise your voice at Aemond. “What did you expect of me? You hold me captive, begin to burn my house, force my hand in marriage, confine me each and every day, and only let me free to pursue your own exploits. Did you think me growing affectionate toward you for simply unlocking a door that I do not deserve to have locked? You and your brother have been nothing but cruel. The only kind thing you’ve done for me in my time here is allow me to see Jacaerys, and I am sure you have your own reasons for such things. You should not dare take issue with me, Aemond.”

“Our agreement, lest you forget, included you renouncing him and acknowledging your betrothal to me. You did not follow through, and therefore there is no understanding between us anymore. I’m sure you will find the dungeons quite comfortable.”

“Try as you will, you are simply mad that she cannot be controlled,” Jacaerys defended you. He knew you didn’t need it, but he would try regardless.

“Mind your tongue.”

Jacaerys unsheathed his sword, pointing the tip at Aemond. The room stilled for a moment.

Aemond made a swift move to mimic Jacaerys’s actions, the two men armed, your body the only thing between them.

You desperately wished you had some sort of weaponry as defense. You always wanted to learn the skills of the sword, but the men of the Watch never let you participate, only allowing you to spectate.

“Do it,” Aemond taunted.

“You do not have the authority to banish someone to the dungeons, for you are not the King,” Jacaerys matched his tone.

“Strike me, nephew. If you truly dare.”

“Would you both please sheath your weapons? Aemond, I am nothing more than your prisoner. The dungeons cannot hold my temper the very same way this room cannot.”

“Then you shall not mind the change of scenery.”

“You underestimate me,” you threatened.

“You underestimate us both,” Jacaerys huffed in anger.

“Well well well, I see this is going well,” Aegon smiled, strutting into the room, “I expected nothing less.”

“She must be taken to the dungeons, brother,” Aemond informed.

“I told you as such upon my arrival,” you reminded them.

Aegon approached you. “Shall we?”

“I would hope you know me better than to simply go at will.”

Aegon called the King’s Guard stationed by his side at all times to enter the room, four different men swarming you and holding your arms behind your back. Jacaerys dropped his sword down, looking for any entrance to help you, but found none. You jumped and kicked and clawed, adamant on not going down without a fight. You elbowed one of the men straight in his nose, blood rushing down his mouth and chin as he stumbled backward at the sudden pain. You took the opportunity to twist the arm he was holding back in front of you, punching the man directly in front of you. As your fist approached his face, Aemond caught your wrist, gripping tightly as he shoved the arm behind your back again, his other hand occupied with the sword that was now at your throat.

You remained cautiously still, but refused to show any sense of fear.

“Do it,” you spat, “it would be a great relief from spending the rest of my days with the likes of you.”

The blade pressed harder into your neck. Jacaerys stopped closer to you, but Aemond shot him a look. Jacaerys raised his sword again, the tip facing Aemond again. “Drop it.”

“Make me,” Aemond replied.

Aemond shoved his body into your side, nearly making you fall as you stumbled closer to the door, the men of the Guard seizing the opportunity to walk you out of the room and toward the dungeons, Aemond keeping his hand around your wrist.

Jacaerys and Aegon were left alone in your (now previous) chambers, the sun beginning to fade from the windows.

“You may take your leave now,” Aegon said.

“You do not expect me to just leave when you’ve impriso-“

“Take your leave.”

Jacaerys sighed. He needed more strength, more dragonfire, more support. He knew his talents, but he knew himself not capable of defeating both of his uncles on his own. He hated Aemond, but he would be a fool to not admit Aemond’s capabilities when wielding a blade.

Jacaerys stomped out of the room, ignoring anyone in his path as he marched back to Vermax.

✶

When you were placed in your cell, the men immediately locked the door and left, leaving you trapped with Aemond peeking into your cell as if you were a caged animal.

“Feel safer, do you?” you taunted, “is a woman truly so much of a threat to the one-eyed prince?”

“You are here by your own volition,” Aemond told you, “it did not have to come to this.”

“I could have spoken those words to you the moment you commanded Vhagar upon my home.”

Aegon dropped his head. “What will it take for you to not be so combative?”

“I will never stop being combative, especially so long as you treat me like this.”

“I would not have to treat you like this if you stopped acting like this.”

You began to raise your voice. There was no point in holding back now. “This started when you decided to announce a betrothal to the realm that I did not consent to! I had no reason to ever know you until your idiot brother saw no other way to secure an alliance in the North but to strip me of my right to choose a proper husband! I never wanted any part of your war, Aemond, and now you are punishing me for it.”

Aemond slammed his hands against the cell door, the metal violently banging and clashing. “I have never, in all my years-“

“That’s enough,” Aegon interrupted, “leave us, will you brother?”

Aemond desperately needed to calm down, his breathing erratic, his cheeks red. “I was in the middle of-“

“Leave us.”

Aegon was serious now, glaring at his brother until he was out of sight.

“You stupid fucking whore,” he spat at you, “it was my brother’s own fault for trusting you.”

“You’re the one who allowed Jacaerys to come here, are you not? I had no part in such.”

“Did you not request his presence? In your special little letter to your prince?”

You gave him a confused look. “You believe I told him to ask for such things?”

“I would not trust if you denied it, so do not even bother,” Aegon sighed, taking a seat on a guard stool a few feet away, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together.

“So what is your plan? To keep me captive forever? To only let me out on my wedding night and force me to carry your brother’s seed? To hope that I die in child birth and allow your men to find my newborn crying on this floor?”

“What do you expect me to do with you? I need your house on my side.”

“I’d rather you have asked nicely, to speak plainly.”

“And you would have bent the knee if I had?” Aegon questioned.

“Absolutely not.”

“So you see why I must resort to force.”

“Did you ever question whether or not you are deserving of my House’s allegiance? Do you truly think yourself worthy of any noble house’s support? You resort to pain and force and threats, but never bargain with any Lord or Lady for how their allegiance to you may benefit them. You are not fit to be a king.”

“I am!” Aegon yelled, shooting upward and approaching your cell door, “I am fit to rule, and I am ruling! You shall wish your brother bends the knee to me. You will be terrible collateral damage should he not.”

“You have imprisoned me in your dungeon, Aegon, is that not damage enough for you?”

“Winterfell has not yet raised my banner.”

“Winterfell will never raise your banner,” you stated.

“We shall see.”

“You will not see,” you fought back, “my brother is much too smart to bend the knee to you. He knows me capable of caring for myself, even with your constant bitching and bombardment.”

Aegon sighed. He put his face as close to you as the bars would allow him. “I have never loathed another as much as I loathe you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Aegon stomped away up the stairs and out of your sight, leaving you abandoned in your prison cell. You began to scan the room, looking for any way to escape. No windows, makes sense. Solitary, no one else around, not that they could be much help. The lock can be picked, but there’s nothing here I can use to unlock it. They would not be so stupid as to leave something that I could use to-

As the thought crossed your head, your hands clasped your stomach, and you felt the multitude of adornments on your gown. The King and his brother had made one grave mistake: they locked you up in one of the finest gowns you had ever worn, which included a Targaryen house symbol pin sewn into the center of the navel area fabric.

A pin.

────── ☾ ──────

tags: @torchbearerkyle @dracaryxzs @hangmanscoming @callsignwidow @velvetcrowbarcherry @kravitzwhore @darlingisntit @not-neverland06 @albionfay @cluz1babe @flusteredmoonn @sab-falco

322 notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki

Pairing: Gojo x girlfriend!reader; dad!Gojo x Megumi and Tsumiki

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Warnings: fluffness overload, there's absolutely not enough content for the dynamic between Gojo and his kids in the manga so we'll make our own, a little bit of spicy mentions especially in the bonus material so be prepared for cheeky Gojo

„I thought I told you I don’t want you to dress up as Santa in bed, Satoru. How many times do I have to tell you that this doesn’t turn me on at all?”, you moan, eyes roaming all over your beloved boyfriend.

There he stands, wearing a bright red costume, a way too big hat and the worst fake looking beard you have ever seen. What the hell has gotten into him again?

He turns around, sly grin beaming your way. At least that pants seem to fit him pretty well, they really bring out his strong legs and well, that special part between his legs. Huh, maybe it doesn’t look as off-turning as you thought it would…

“For once, I’m not doing this for you. Don’t you ever think about the kids, (y/n)?”, he teases you.

The kids? Does he talk about Megumi and Tsumiki? No, he absolutely can’t. Out of all people, your boyfriend should know best that Megumi will probably leave and never return if he sees Satoru dressed up like this. And Tsumiki? Well, she might not be as harsh as Megumi, but even she will just stare at him bamboozled. Yes, those kids aren’t particularly joyful when it comes to Satoru’s goofy side and everyone knows.

Except for him, apparently.

“The kids will hate you for this”, you clarify, fingers getting stuck in the fake hair of his beard.

He draws you closer, arms wrapping around you tightly while the poor fabric of his costume scratches against your cheek.

“You just can’t accept that they love me more than you. Just watch and see the magic in their eyes.”

A huff escapes your lips, head shaking by itself. Oh, you’ll definitely watch as he makes a fool out of himself in front of the kids. This will be fun.

-later-

“Hey (y/n), where is that freak?”, Megumi greets you, neatly dropping his schoolbag into the same spot as usual.

“Come on, Megumi-chan, don’t call him that”, you softly reply.

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him since morning.”

“(y/n)!”, Tsumiki cries out and runs into your open arms instantly.

What a sweet girl she is. Despite the fact that both her mother and father are gone, she always wears a wide grin on her face, embracing you in a hug whenever she lays her eyes on you. Megumi on the other hand, just stares at you from afar with his arms crossed in front of his chest. How is it possible for siblings to be this different?

“Why do you talk about him this way, Megumi? Don’t you know we would have never met (y/n) if it wasn’t for him?”, Megumi’s sister reproves him in an instant.

“Huh, you’re right about that”, the petite boy mumbles to himself, eyes set on you.

“Ho ho ho children.”

You blink a few times, the voice behind the closed door being pitched so ridiculously low that your cheeks redden. He told you he’ll surprise the kids today, you should have seen it coming after he tried on that strange suit this morning. But to be honest, you hoped it was just to mess with you, that he was just playing around a little.

Until the door swings open and reveals Satoru Gojo in a Santa costume, wearing his iconic pair of sunglasses.

“You can’t be serious about that”, Megumi mumbles in the corner.

You don’t know what to do. Dying of laughter or dying of embarrassment? By the way he steps into the middle of the room with boots that look way too similar to the ones you just bought a few months ago, you have no time to think about that.

“Since I know (y/n) is always naughty, I’m here to check if at least you kids have been good this year”, he announces.

It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth from shooting up and to suppress the little giggle that creeps up your throat. But there you stand, smiling like an idiot while shaking your head, watching the priceless drop on Megumi’s cute little face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

Tsumiki lets go of you, blinking over and over in an attempt to understand what’s going on. Everybody just stands dead still in their tracks, staring at what’s definitely Satoru Gojo in front of them.

“I see, you’re a feisty one, little man. Watch how you speak to someone my age!”

“You’re 18.”

“I AM NOT! LOOK AT MY WHITE BEARD.”

Tsumiki is the first one to break with a squeal, holding onto your body for hold while shaking uncontrollably in laughter.

“This isn’t funny, young lady!”, Satoru’s low voice speaks out harshly.

He sends you over the edge. Your little giggle escalates into loud laughter, making your stomach ache so badly that tears run down your cheeks.

“You look ridiculous. Take that off.”

With a swift motion, Megumi pulls down the fake beard that was set in place by a cheap elastic, exposing the pout of pure outrage on Satoru’s lovely face. Oh, how much you love that man. The man who lost it all last year, the man who cared about those kids he didn’t even knew enough to basically adopt them, the man who does everything to make Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s life as pleasant as possible.

Even if it means dressing up as Santa.

“Huh, how did you get it was me?!”

“Are you kidding? You’re even wearing your sunglasses, idiot.”

“HOW DARE YOU TO CALL YOUR DAD IDIOT, I RAISED YOU-“

“Raised me? You know me since last year!”

“He would never admit it, but I know that he really admires Satoru from deep down”, Tsumiki suddenly hushes into your ear.

You wipe your tears away, observing the scene laying itself out in front of you with a wide smile. It’s not a secret to anyone in this room that life has its ups and downs, that everything is shitty from time to time. But precious moments of joy like this that make even Megumi turn away with an ever so slight grin make you realize what life really is about.

“I think you were quite convincing”, you comment sarcastically.

“You…It was your fault! You told them about my surprise!”, your boyfriend cries out overdramatically.

It takes him not even seconds to be by your side, grabbing you by your waist and tickling your over-sensitive spots he knows so well.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!”, you shout between multiple giggles, tears of joy streaming down your face all over again.

“B-but…I like that suit better than I thought.”

His hands stop immediately, eyes darkening in an instant.

“Is that so, huh? Maybe I can show it off better in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Come on, Megumi. Time to go”, Tsumiki hisses, dragging her brother out of the room by his small hand.

-dirty bonus-

"Tsumiki?", Megumi mumbles muted.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Do you think (y/n) is okay?"

Tsumiki blinks into the darkness around her, trying to understand what her little brother means by his words.

"She definetely was when Satoru dressed up as Santa. Why?"

"When I went to the toilet, I heard her screaming. She even screamed his name. I guess I'm just a little...worried. Do you think we should go check-"

"NO", Tsumiki interrupts him immediately, her face heating up in an instant.

Oh god.

"Absolutely not. Just stay here and try to sleep."

"But what if-"

"NO. And never tell me about something like this again!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

918 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

Text

Storm's End 2

HOTD Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, mentions of a minor in a pleasure house, maiming, blood, violence, victim blaming, self blame, and other very dark things.

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4,7 k

Notes: Ufff It seems I can’t do one shots anymore, I think this required another third part because I didn’t want to make it so long.

They say that when you are dying, all your life passes right through your eyes, making you relive all those moments, and the way you felt

Now you are able to say, that it wasn’t that accurate

Because all you could see was HIM

His head on your lap while you read to him in High Valyrian under the heart tree

You turning to him with a smile on your face the first time Karnax obeyed your command, the way he smiled back

The time you grabbed his hand and patted Karnax’s snout making him purr

But suddenly you were that frightened little girl in that tunnel in Driftmark

“no! stop it!”, you screeched, as Aemond had your older brother grabbed by his vest and he held a rock in his hand

“stop it!”, you begged him again, he threw his hand back to gain momentum and he hit you in the face with the rock

You wailed and cried, your face burning, a warm liquid filling your mouth with a metallic taste, blood pouring from your nose

Because of you your brother grabbed the knife, to avenge you, because of you baby Lucerys jumped at Aemond and slashed his eye off of his face

Soon you were not the only one crying bitterly

Soon some gloved, adult hands grabbed you and lifted you from the ground and took you to a maester

Soon you were seated across from Aemond, as the maester sewed his missing eye shut, his remaining eye didn’t leave your face, his mouth twisted in a dark mock

He didn't even blinked, he barely reacted when the needle pierced his skin over and over

While you only got a bloody nose.

Deeper into the night, after the maester sneaked you a bit of milk of the poppy, you woke up when you could no longer breathe, feeling a weight over your chest, when you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Aemond’s scowl, the slash on his face still bright red.

“Aemond?”, you called, then he took a knife off his belt, you screeched but he placed his hand in your throat, “what’s happening?”, you cried, “I want my mom”

“Why was I the only one who lost something?”, he asked bitterly, “the only one scarred”

“You have Vhagar”, you whined

“I didn't stole her”, he clarified

“I know”, you said

“perhaps I should scar you too”

“You mom scarred mine”, you whined, a tear falling down your cheek, “please don’t”, you cried

Aemond looked down at you, you didn’t know what he was thinking, you only stood still, afraid. Your uncle seemed to ponder about something, thinking, analyzing, and then , with the hand that hold the dagger, he grabbed the covers and retired them, you were sleeping only in your loose nightshirt,

You were eight and he was ten, he grabbed the dagger, you were so scared you didn’t even move, you only cried and whined when he carved an “A” into your thigh

“Now you are scarred like me”, he said with an even voice, and an uneven stare, looking down at you like he was bored.

Even though you thought the Red Keep was your home, you were so relieved when your mom told all of you that you were going to live in Dragonstone from now on. You were now scared of your own uncle, of your friend, and therefore you managed to conceal your mark, never showing it to your parents

The next part of your memories were only a few weeks back, when you return for the first time to the Red Keep, to defend your own right to inherit Driftmark

You were lucky you were the only one that looked like a Targaryen

But Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s words still hurt

As he screamed bastard and whore to the entire court, you couldn’t help but look up at your uncle, feeling his gaze on you.

And before that in the training yard

That is when the uneasiness began, his gaze on you, that same smirk, like he was mocking you, and Jace, you were barely a year younger than your brother, he was only a year younger and yet, it seemed like Aemond was ages your senior, in abilities, in knowledge, in maturity, in everything

Perhaps that is why he was so amused

He seemed to mock you, to pity you, to be amused of how much of your childhood you still carried with you

You hugged yourself as Vaemond cursed you and your mother, and you felt his gaze on you the entire time

But then Daemon slayed Vaemond in front of all of you, Jacey, before you could see anything, he grabbed you and hid your face on his chest, to prevent you from looking at your now dead great uncle

Soon the impression on Aemond passed, as he watched in anger that bastard touching you, protecting you

He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else other than him.

That’s why he asked his mother, to ask Rhaenyra for your hand that very afternoon, right before the dinner

You couldn’t even eat, not with his gaze on you, you kept looking up at him, as he drank you in your black leather dress at the same time he drank from his cup. He didn’t not even for a second, let his gaze off of you.

You mother saw this, and grabbed your arm gently, and whispered to you what he wanted, that he asked for your hand

When your face twisted in fear and anguish, your mother’s changed to that of concern, then you both looked at Aemond across the table, and he could see in your faces, what the answer was going to be.

So fueled by anger and resentment, he stood from his chair and toasted to the health of his Strong nephews, and he looked directly at you when he said this.

“To the health of my nephews and sweet niece, my the gods keep them handsome, wise and Strong, she will need her strength, to bear my children after we are married”, he said with a smirk, and the entire table shared concerned looks

“WHAT?”, growled Daemon, looking at Rhaenyra

Whole hell broke loose

You tried to stop Jace, but he wouldn’t hear of it, he went for Aemond to defend your honor and he pushed him away like he was a doll

“Stop it!”, You begged him, after helping Jace on his feet you put yourself in between them Aemond walked towards you and grabbed you by the neck, he didn’t squeeze, he didn’t choke you, but you could see the anger in his eye

“You think you have a choice?”, he whispered to you, “I think you should see the scar in your leg to remind yourself of who you belong to”, But a leather hand grabbed Aemond’s arm roughly, you looked to the side and there was Daemon

“Get your hands off my daughter”, he whispered dangerously, and in the background, you could hear everyone screaming in desperation, specially Alicent

You were already crying, but he released you, smiling wickedly.

He had a face to face with Daemon, who put you behind him to protect you

“Over my dead body you will marry her”, he promised, Aemond only looked at you, and then he exited the room

Your mother send you home with your siblings that very night, scared of her own brother

And then as you took to the skies in the night you were suddenly transported to the last time you saw him

Aemond standing in front of you,

You were still in Storm’s End Hall, but there was no one else besides the both of you, you were alone. You wanted to speak, but couldn’t

“My beautiful, bastard, niece”, his words made you wince

You didn't know why you were here, is this what it was like to die? it felt like you were dreaming

“Why?”, you whispered, he tilted his head, amused, “Why do you hate me so much?”, you manage to ask, “I never did anything to you”

“I don’t hate you”, he said simply, “I’m just treating you like you deserve to be treated”, you frowned, “you are just a bastard, mine to toy with, mine to torment”

“Nobody deserves to be treated like that”, you fought, “is not my fault”, you whined, he only smirked, with a smooth movement he retrieved from inside his leather vest the dagge

“You are nothing, only the bastard daughter of a pretender who will never be Queen, strutting around the keep, with your bastard siblings”, a tear fell down your eye

“Is not my fault”, you cried, you believed him, a sadness taking a grip on you, you gasped for air as an inexplicable sorrow took a hold on you, “is not my fault!”, you cried, soon you couldn’t breath, you felt someone had a tight grip on your throat, you couldn’t breathe

You gasped for air, but something was preventing you from taking the oxygen you needed, you dried heaved, until you managed to throw up

Your body convulsed trying to expel the water from within your lungs, you tossed and turned until you finally manage to turn in the sand and threw up the salt water from within you

That is how you came to your senses again, disoriented, feeling sick, and clouded, and cold

So so cold

“So cold”, your voice sounded like a broken bagpipe, you tried to grab onto something, but your hand grabbed rocks and sand, you could barely see around you, it was all dark, it was late, and it was cold

You were soon aware that you were back in the land of the living, if you were dead, you wouldn't be in pain, you wouldn’t be so aware of your numb extremities, from the cold, the adrenaline, and the fact that you felt like you had been ran over by a herd of horses

You took your time to gather your bearings, to take deep breaths and expel the salty taste from your mouth, so sharp it clouded your mind even more

For some reason, even the stranger had forgotten you

once you managed to regain the mobility of your arms and legs, you turned around

“Karnax?”, you called, as you whimpered, feeling your loss in your chest, making it tight and hurt, as memories of the last moments coming back to you

“KARNAX?”, you called desperately, but you knew it was of no use, your dragon had been ripped apart by Vhagar, and it was a miracle that you were still alive

Then you stopped, maybe shouting and drawing attention back to you, wasn’t the brightest of ideas. But as you looked into the stormy sea, bitter tears fell down your eyes

Your baby dragon was gone, the one who had been with you since you were born.

You couldn’t stand on your own legs, you tried to, but failed.

You shivered, and tried to hug yourself

it was some miracle that the waves and current had dragged you to a small piece of beach with dark sands, rather than the rockery all around you

But you soon realize it wasn’t a miracle

You saw something, someone moved in your peripheral view, and you got a feeling…

Aemond walked towards you slowly

It had stopped raining but he was still wet as you were, his wet silvery locks stuck to the edges of his face and his clothes, all leather, protected him from the rain, he had taken off his eyepatch, and the sapphire gleamed even in the dark

You haven't yet recovered the feeling to your legs, but scared out of your mind you tried to crawl back, away from him. he smiled, wickedly, as he walked towards you

“Get away from me!”, you whined, but he stopped on your leg meanly, preventing you from advancing away from him. He only hummed, entertained

He looked like a creature that had come from the bottom of the ocean, front he pits of hell, he had resurfaced just to drag you back with him. He had come from your deepest nightmares

He leaned down towards you, you tried to fight him off, but he wouldn’t budge, he grabbed you tightly, roughly, tears fell down your eyes when he dragged you to him in a wicked embrace

“NO!”, you screamed squirming, trying to get away from him, “Why would you do that?”, you cried, bitter tears that burned your cheeks fell down your eyes, “My Karmax, my dragon, he was gentle, fair tempered, he never hurt anyone! He was good! Why did you do this? HE LOVED YOU AS HE DID ME! YOU KILLED HIM!”, you screamed, desperately fighting against him, to release yourself from his grasp

“He was weak and small, so are you”, he mocked in your ear

“WHO CARES ABOUT THAT?”, you felt physical pain in your chest, “he was my soulmate”, he manhandled you until he was face to face with you, he grabbed your jaw forcefully

“You have other things to worry about”, he growled, and you whimpered in his hold, trying to get away from him, but still you couldn’t, he was stronger than you, and you were completely destroyed

“please”, you whimpered, “you killed my dragon…”, his eye darkened even more, his expression was now the one of a man enraged

“Don’t you dare to even think we are even”, he growled, he then smirked darkly, “but after this we might”

The night was awfully calm, strangely so, and it was ridiculous you would think about something like that in a moment like this, but here you were

Because you knew what was about to happen

You only cried when Aemond threw you on the sandy floor, the hit numbing you partially, more than you were already. Aemond looked down at you for the very first time, in all this years, you saw him smile, he didn't smirk, he smiled widely, openly, you could see his teeth

“Please”, you begged him, to just leave you alone

“I love it when you beg”, he ceremoniously removed his long leather jacket, and left it gently on the floor

“I never did anything to you”, you whined, tears kept falling from your eyes and he finally jumped you, like a lion to his prey.

You tried to fight him off but you were so tired, so drained of all your energy, you couldn’t

You whined against him, but he didn't care, he never did, why would he do now?

He took the dagger off his belt, and for a fraction of a second you felt relieved, he was going to slice your neck and be done with it, but no, he sliced your riding pants instead, you tried to kick him, but barely moved him.

He got tired of your antics and grabbed you by the neck roughly

You whined and trashed, but he wouldn’t let go, soon the inability to breathe make you dizzy, losing the little strength you had left

“Please Uncle”, you managed to let out, cheeks wetted with your tears, the salty air making your skin burn

But he wouldn’t let go, he looked down a you with a sick satisfaction that make you whimper once more, as you were bare from the waist down

You never had high expectations regarding your first time with a man, you had heard from the Septas that it was your duty as a wife to please your husband in that matter, they had also said that it won’t be pleasant, that pleasure is not something you must seek

That the act of bedding was only to produce heirs

But with your sibling, Jace in particular, you had seen and read things, fueled by your curiosity, and you found out that it was quite pleasurable, for people that worked in the skin trade anyways…

You knew you had no expectations, but still

You never expected this

He undid his pants, releasing his manhood, it was big, thick, long, the tip red and angry, and even looking at it make you cry even more

“No please”, you managed to say, Aemond could see you were running out of air, so he released you just a little

He needed you conscious

“Please don’t do this, please”, you begged and begged, and he rebelled in it, he placed himself between your thighs, making you hurt

But the worst part was yet to come

“Why wouldn’t I?”, he mocked

While he still had you by the neck, the other went between your legs, yout thighs shook when you felt him, trying to introduce one of his fingers, it was uncomfortable, and it burned

You were dry

And he seemed to enjoy it

“Noooo”, you babbled, as you started hiccuping because of your distress, he only hummed. Pleased, with the situation, with you, or whatever

He fisted his cock only a couple of times, and gave you no reprieve.

He give you no space to move, no space to escape,

You shrieked in pain, the burn felt like nothing you had experienced before, you cried out as he ripped you open for him

“No! it burns, please”, you begged, “it hurts!”, you cried, you scream bloody murder

“Fuck”, he cursed, a sick smile on his lips

“Why?”, you cried, tears falling, whimpers being drawn, “Why?”, he paid no mind to you, only retrieved yourself and you almost thought that he was going to free you from this torment

Only for him to thrust into you even more roughly than before

You shrieked, as Aemond looked down for when your bodies were united and smiled when he saw the blood pouring from you. But he almost caught a glimpse of the mark he had drawn in your skin all those years ago.

“Now you are just a whore”, he said, satisfied with himself, again thrusting into you, “do you think Cregan Stark will want you now?”, he mocked

He kept fucking you, raping you, and the only thing in your mind to distract you from the pain was… why? Why did he hate you so much? if your dreams were to give you any clarity… which you doubted

“I’m sorry uncle”, you whispered, as he retrieved himself from you and then pushed again inside you, making you cry out

“I don’t care”

“I’m sorry”, you repeated again, and then again, like a mantra while he defiled you, while he took you against your will in that beach

“Come on, come for me, like the little wanting whore I know you are”, but you were far from it, you were still in pain, and your body reacted accordingly, trying to soothe you, lubricating itself to help you cope. He found your clit, pinching it and rubbing it roughly, too rough to be pleasurable, but it still helped.

Your head fell to the side, looking at the waves, so far yet so close, you wanted to get lost in them, as the rough sway of Aemond against you, you saw the waves coming and going with almost the same speed.

Until he grabbed your jaw and make you look back at him

The unhinged look in his eye, his growls and gasps

You grabbed the wrist of the hand that had you by the neck and you looked into his eyes, almost defiantly, and what you found in them scared you even more

You felt him deep in your belly, your insides were on fire you wanted to throw up, but the salty taste of all the sea water you drank was still present, giving you no reprieved

“Please stop”, you begged one more time, “please uncle, it hurts”

“Shh”, he only shushed you, he leaned in and kissed you, for the very first time, ever

His wet lips were a welcoming distraction, but not even in the kiss you felt relief, feeling only dread, desperation and anger

He bit on your lower lip, apparently the blood of your maidenhead wasn’t enough, he needed to taste it in his mouth too

You thought it was never going to end

Until finally his movements became sloppy, his eye rolled and he grabbed your neck even tighter

You felt him, deep inside you, ropes of his seed filling your womb

You cried even harder, moving more than before

He stood planted deep inside you for endless minutes, looking down at you, analyzing your face, and every expression on it, you only cried softly, your body tight with pain and trauma.

“i have to make sure it takes”, he mocked, and your shrieked shortly, “I told you I was going to give you my bastard”

You looked away from him, barely imagining how it was going to be like to bring shame to the family in that way.

Weak

You had let him do this to you

If only you were stronger

He finally released you, you whispered one more time when he took himself off of you

You felt a thick substance leaking off of you, and you could only imagine what it was

Aemond stood up, as he fixed his pants, you barely could roll to the side, hugging yourself, to look at the waves

You felt dizzy, nauseous, in pain and cold

And if you had something in your stomach you would have throw it out

But you didn’t

You felt his gaze on you again, you tried to ignore him, thinking faintly on how you are going to survive this, how you were going to go back home

To your family

They were going to love you no matter what, you knew this, and if Aemond tried to say the opposite, you were not going to believe him

Aemond didn't move, he only looked at you, the soft, musty wind hit your face, making you whimper in cold, but still, you laid there, unmovable, you could feel him moving, placing his jacket back on him, taking his time, and yet, you didn't move. Then he leaned in, and you tried to squirm away, but he grabbed you easily

“You either come with me, or I leave you here”, he whispered in your ear, you didn't move, you just stayed there, laying in the sand, he came into your frame, as you stared down at the beach. You were not an idiot, if he left you here, it is probable you were not going to make it, you were far away from everything, you had no dragon, another storm was coming

But going with him is unthinkable

Yet you didn't move

You saw his boots walking away from you, and then, they stopped

He looked back at you

You were stubborn

“Your Grace”, greeted the woman shakily, bowing to the Queen. Rhaenyra had unshed tears in her eyes

Daemon barely managed to get her out of her chambers. They had no news of you, and that is what scared them, they assumed the worse

“You are Lady Alyne Felwood, are you not?”, she asked, she did not mind to present herself like this, she hasn't brushed her hair, she hadn't even bathed, she wasn’t wearing her crown, still crying in front of that woman, a woman whose family was of the Stormlands, sworn to House Baratheon

“I am, indeed”

“Are you not sworn to House Baratheon?”, spitted Daemon by her side, looking as imposing now that his sweet wife couldn’t

“I was”, you whispered, “I was a part of the court of House Baratheon, and I was there that day when…”, Rhanyra’s gaze that had been on the table looked up at her, alarmed

“You were there?”, she asked, tears falling freely, the lady barely nodded

“I was”, she whispered, she looked within herself, to tell the tale as softest as she could, she did not want to bring her more pain, “I was there when the princess entered the Hall, unfortunately, Prince Aemond…”, she stopped to see their reaction, Daemon grabbed the pommel of his sword tightly, and Rhanyra whimpered, “had been there for hours when she arrived”

“It was him?”, she asked, Alyne barely nodded

“She made her case to Lord Borros, but one-eye had already made his own, offering his own, or his brother’s Daeron’s hand in marriage”, she said, “Lord Borros mocked the princess when she had nothing of the sort to offer him, and that is when…”, she paused, she might lose her head for this, in a “kill the messenger” situation, but she came her for a reason, “Aemond interrupted”

“What was said?”, asked Daemon impatiently, tired of the pauses

“He said that her brother had a debt to pay, that he wanted her to pay instead”

“What debt?”, she asked

“He said that he wanted a payment of blood”

“He slayed her…?”, cried Rhaenyra, but the lady shook her head

“He said he was going to take her maidenhead, and send you their sheets with her blood in it”, Rhaenyra whimpered, grabbing onto the painted table, “he tried to go to her but lord Borros intervened, he commanded her to be taken back to her dragon, she exited hastily, but so did he…”

“He demanded her maidenhead? And they let him go after her?”, she cried

“The guards on the battlements told Lord Borros that they have heard shouting, laughs and screams, and… a shriek of a Dragon”, Rhaenyra covered her mouth in an attempt to swallow her cries

“my little girl”, she cried, and Daemon hugged her tightly, hiding her face on his chest

“Why?”, asked Daemon, angry at this woman, who brought Rhaenyra sordid details about that day

“I’m a mother to a girl too”, she whispered

Then she was dismissed

“My girl!”, Rhaenyra cried, when they were alone, “my little girl”

“Shhh, my love, we will get her back, whatever it takes”

Taglist!

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle

#misguidedhotd #misguidedhouse #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction

958 notes · View notes

magiturge · 15 days ago

Note

How did Hank and Sheriff first meet? And develop their relationship further?

well.. for their first meeting, you know. it left an impression.

with hank momentarily hesitating on the trigger to relish in the success of their rampage, just to lay with their brains on the table. it’s a lasting image.

in terms of developing their relationship more i need to back things with more context lest i wake some day, read this and feel a harrowing emptiness.

so if you’ll take a seat, pardon me, it’ll be long.

hank killing sheriff left a lingering grudge on him, printed on his mind for the years to come and as a result, hank became the target of almost any anger that came of the sheriff. even if more of sheriff’s mental strain and break came from jeb, his anger would funnel towards hank because his wrongdoing was more cut and dry than what jeb did to him.

the grudge festers and it’s almost as if it’s been put on a pedestal, kill hank j wimbleton, get your get back. give them the bullet you owe them, straight to the dome. you’ve got a force of men behind you, a fortress of some kind so do something with it. get that revenge.

and yet, those feelings aren’t reciprocated, because it was never that personal for hank.

the question here is “what does it mean to be recognized and acknowledged by hank j. wimbleton?”

what does that mean?

it’s what the sheriff wants, or atleast thinks he wants. for hank to get it into their head when he finally takes the shot that the sheriff is above them. you’ll see that i reign above you, that i’m better than you and you won’t get that jump on me again. you’ll answer to me, i’ve got the edge over you.

it’s just that hank doesn’t care.

even hatred isn’t reciprocated.

..so when they cross into the industrial sector, perhaps on their way to a different mission, and a particular grudge bearing cowboy puts his boot down, with years of actually toughening up under his belt, things are different.

somethings are the same though.

because when they have a spat on the wall of the industrial sector, and despite sheriff’s grand improvement in his capabilities in combat, when he gets slipped under and hank gets the upperhand, what does it do?

it relishes on the trigger, just the very first time.

because hank doesn’t respect anyone, hank doesn’t respect the sheriff.

and that’s how it gets its victory rugpulled out from under it, because he isn’t a defenseless coward anymore, he’s a coward that’s got a tougher shell and knows a way around a gun.

this should feel good, that he gave hank that bullet to the dome he owed him, but it doesn’t. not because he feels guilt, or remorse but that feeling that clarity that.. he’s watched hank clearly die in front of him long ago, and they came back. they always came back. even in a more grody, wretched shape they came back.

what made this death any different. and what stops them from coming back and chasing him down for this loss.

you’re acknowledged, at what cost.

one thing i like to clarify with hank, is they don’t have an issue with dying itself, but they have an issue with the way they die. if it was a stupid reason, a win stolen out from under it, bullshit that makes it all an inconvenience.

and that was all 3.

this is where i like to imagine they begin to have reoccuring spats between the two of them, across the industrial sector. ending in tight draws, be it from mutually sustained injury or sheriff ducking under the bullets of his own men into safety, a scummy tactic to escape his own loss.

hank is fragile. even in their hulking, tall and ominous frame they’re fragile. a network of bodies that don’t belong to them but they bear anyway. skin that isn’t theirs, grafted onto injuries. a heart that beats oddly, an inorganic jaw, muscles meeting the end of recruitment.

they’re a skilled killing machine, but they’re not immune to bodily exhaustion.

when you’ve got a score to settle, a petty useless on and off fight, with an equal parts FRUSTRATING target to catch. a practical moving turret, a once aimless useless coward knowing his way around a revolver, it gets exhausting.

so even when you’ve got the motivation to fight on, at some point, your frankenstein’s monster of a body will fail.

i’ve neglected to mention throughout this on sheriff’s side, he’s been continuously ruminating on just getting hank to buzz off again. that anger got washed away in victory and the clarity of this useless, resource wasting spat comes in.

so when hank’s body gives out in exhaustion, and they’re staring at each other. instead of gunning him down he..

..runs.

instead of keeping it up, he runs. instead of making sure hank is dead, even knowing as he glanced that the body is still moving, he runs.

..something about hank, is that it views many things through the lens of how optimal it would be in combat.

and the choice of a coward, turning his back on them, choosing to not shoot him dead like any reasonable mercenary would, his ‘stupidity’ was intriguing.

that’s how it begins.

because one of you is a script, and the other an actual entity. there are differences to be worked with.

their relationship develops more in the way of trial and error as hank is a rather independent, socially avoidant person in the sense it has little use for small talk, talking to people in general, sparking a conversation. sheriff also holds a certain image of hank in his mind as a killing machine incapable of grasping things like affection, friendship, even the idea of caring for someone, being considerate.

hank doesn’t have faith in anything, it just does.

sheriff has little expectation, but hungers the most.

it’s all still a cat and mouse chase, still with knives and guns but with an addition of chasing down thoughts and emotions.

a curious, intrigued desire to understand.

because you’re peculiar, and you did something stupid. you’re not the same as i last remember you being, a coward that put up so little of a fight and ran. you know what you’re doing now, and that irritates me.

sheriff is the most human of the cast to me, having had a social life, a job, a rational and completely reasonable fear of someone chasing him with a gun with intent to kill. a seldom seen sense of self preservation. he’s jaded and he’s desensitized but he doesn’t forget.

those kind of human treats, those luxuries of affection, of consideration and care.

hank doesn’t know that by default, it’s taught, it’s learned, it’s attached.

they never stop fighting, but they also never stop exploring each other.

they never normally vocalize their want of the other but they never stop digging their nails into each others skin when the embrace isn’t tight enough.

it’s a rocky, unpleasant and jagged path they’re walking..

and it feels good.

#my art #my asks #madness combat #hank j wimbleton #sheriff #sherhank #sheriffhank #marshmallowpie #still a lot omitted from this answer…..

99 notes · View notes