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whytheylosttheirminds · 7 months ago

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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally.

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was.

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :)

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here.

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission.

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could.

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill.

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously.

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window.

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt.

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter.

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

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tojisbbygworl · 1 year ago

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He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk smut #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x reader smut #black reader

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inkblotsinkblots-alt · 9 months ago

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My experience with [band]

My experience with [band] and [band]'s management starts in April 2022. I had emailed the band's business email that used to be in their bio in December 2021, and in April 2022 I got a response. I had been asked if I was available within the next couple of weeks to come down to Brighton and do a photo shoot with the band. Management really liked my work, and wanted to work with me. I was asked to provide my rates and any expenses that would incur. I had asked if I would be at least credited for these images on social media (tagged etc ...), and management said that they could not commit to that at that time. This photo shoot did not happen.

I worked with [band] for the first and only time in January 2023 and photographed / videoed their set.

I was completely blindsided by the fact that this could’ve been a huge opportunity for me, and it could change my career completely. When I got the email inviting me to work with the band, I screamed and actually worried my parents for a few minutes. I agreed to terms that I shouldn’t have (not a full written agreement, but various statements in emails). In hindsight I had no clue what some of them meant (and I think the band’s management knew that).

There was no formal contract, only emails. The band would own my photos 'in perpetuity' and when I asked what that meant, they (management) said that 'the band have the freedom to use them however they please'. Making money off of my photos, and putting them on merch that they would then sell out of, was not mentioned. I was under the impression they would only be using the photos on social media as I did not get any clarification, even though I asked for it. I wanted to press for a more detailed answer, but I was afraid that I'd lose the job.

This was never about the money that I'd potentially make from having my photos on merch, it's that I didn't even know it was happening. I was also 'allowed' to upload '3-4' photos to my social media from the gig, even though they were my photos. I was stupid enough to agree with this. Again, I felt as though if I challenged this I would lose the job.

At the end of the show in January 2023 I was promised at least a couple of shows on the upcoming tour, as '[I was] great to work with. Such a pleasure.' I have no evidence that I was offered shows during that tour as it was said to me in person. I was then let down at the beginning of March (after multiple follow up emails) with 'I don't think there is the additional need for your services also' when I asked about discussing the tour. I was devastated.

I was offered photo passes* to subsequent Manchester gigs and I took them as they had no strings attached, and the band would not own my images (that's why you've seen a lot of them on my socials).

I met a bunch of well-known creators, musicians and photographers while working with [band] and they were all so very sweet. Some of which I am still in contact with today, and some I am good friends with. I am very grateful for this.

I fully support Shelby, she is so incredibly brave for talking about her experiences, and it's because of her bravery that I felt confident enough to share my experience - although very different in nature.

I fully believe that [band]’s management wanted to take advantage of fans who wanted to photograph [band]’s gigs. And pay them as little as possible with no consistency in pay between photographers or how many photos they were allowed to post. (This is my own opinion)

I am not the only one that has had a negative experience with [band] and their management as a photographer / creative, but those are not my stories to tell and if they want to comment then they will. Please don't speculate on who these people are or harass them on social media, they have every right to not want to talk about their experiences. Please respect everyone involved.

Massive love, take care of yourselves.

(*Photo passes are offered to press photographers and non-touring photographers. They shoot the first three songs from the photo pit and then leave. Either to go into the crowd for the rest of the gig, or leave the gig entirely.)

please do not edit this post or reblog, do not take screenshots and post this on twitter or any other social media platform, thank you.

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heraldofpassion · 2 months ago

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Annabeth's Joy

Hi folks!

This here is my first ever birth fic that I write and share!

I’d love your honest opinion and criticism, but please keep in mind I’m new at this, that English isn’t my first language, and that I’m a virgin who knows nothing of sex.

That said, I sincerely hope you all enjoy, and hope it will make you feel hot and bothered ;).

Take care

Herald of Passion

Tags: Pregnancy kink, labor kink, birth kink, sex, sex in labor, orgasmic birth, threesome

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Annabeth was the sexiest girl of our year in college. It became even more true when she got pregnant.

No one knew who knocked her up, but everyone had their own theory. The football captain, the English teacher, pretty much anyone with looks and charisma. But I was going to learn two very important things about Annabeth: she didn’t care about status, and I didn’t care who got her pregnant; I only wished it was me.

We had biology together, and soon got to talking. She and her friend Melanie were inseparable but made place for me at their table. I was the new guy in this college, and they wanted to learn more about me.

How to describe Annabeth? Well, she was stunning, with long flowing brown hair falling down her back, a perfectly chiseled face and piercing eyes. She had pretty big breasts, barely covered by her crop top, her nipples sometimes pointing out. That girl wasn’t afraid of her body and sexuality and encouraged others to do the same.

Every time we were sitting next to each other, she would laugh and touch my arm, and look at me with interest when asking me about my girlfriends and experiences. She almost couldn’t believe I was a virgin.

“Aww sweetie. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a girl to fuck you soon.” She told me with a wink, while my cheeks started to burn. I was already imagining bending her over the desk, caressing her growing belly and kissing her neck, our moans mixing as we reach climax.

…

A few months later, she invited me to a fun evening with her friends. We were maybe a dozen, chatting, partying, having fun, and soon, most of them left or were too drunk to stay awake, leaving only me, Annabeth, and Mel who didn’t drink (Anna for obvious reason).

Speaking of obvious, Anna came back to us in a short bikini, clearly dating from before getting pregnant. Her belly was coming out so large in front of her, and her breasts were barely contained by her bra. She told us to get into our swimwear and to join her in the pool, turning around to go outside, my eyes fixed on her perfect ass and rolling hips. Mel gave me an amused look, before taking off her clothes, leaving herself in her bra and panties, before jumping in the water. A bit more self-conscious, but not wanting to miss this opportunity, I got into my underwear too and got into the pool.

There, we chatted and swam for most of the night. I hoped my erection wasn’t too apparent, but the girls’ cheeky look and shared laughs told me it probably wasn’t. I decided to follow Anna’s lack of shame, and simply took off my swimsuit, leaving myself naked. Anna whistled and winked and didn’t make a joke about it. She really was the best girl ever.

…

People were following Anna’s growth and development, and she wasn’t shy with telling everyone about her progress, which meant everyone knew she had been overdue for a week at the point of our last biology session.

“Great news everyone!” exclaimed miss Berkeley as she stood in front of us, a large couch covered with soft covers between us and her. “This year, for our final project, you will assist to a live birth and then write an essay about what the experience. For this, we are very lucky to have Annabeth with us, who graciously offered her birth as a class project.”

Anna smiled and waddled to the front of the room while everyone looked at her. She finally let out a sigh and groan, probably having held them all day at this point. She turned toward Mel and me.

“Will you help send me into actual labor, and then birth my baby?” She asked in her sweet tone as a contraction took her, gripping onto the desk.

We didn’t answer, but I looked at Mel, and we were in harmony. We joined her in front of everyone and started kissing her. Mel and she exchanged a deep and passionate kiss, while I was caressing her big overdue belly. My cock was already making a bulge in my pants, but I wanted to focus on Anna for now. I freed Anna’s breasts from her tank top and placed my lips around her nipple, while Mel took the other. Anna had already started lactating, as she had showed us before, but drinking her milk was ten times better then I could have imagined. Annabeth was moaning and panting, caressing my hair and pulling us closer.

She sat on the desk and spread her legs, revealing her lack of panties. Her pussy lips, wet and puffy, were already soaked with her pleasure. “Lick me, please….” She almost whispered, as she threw her head back to endure another contraction.

I smiled and obliged, my tongue gently sliding between her folds as she moaned, before exchanging a steamy kiss with Mel. They were clearly both liking it, since they took off their clothes and started to caress their breasts, rubbing their nipples between kisses.

While that was happening, I was licking Anna’s lips and circling her clit with my fingers. I could feel her shake from pleasure, but also the pressure and pain building inside of her. My cock was throbbing in my pants, and I just wanted to fuck her and feel her water breaks all over me.

Anna placed her legs over my shoulders and pulled me closer. Mel was gently pulling on her nipples, milk leaking out like faucets over Anna’s contracting belly.

“Ah… Ah… God please… please fuck me… both of you… Ah… make me cum!” Anna panted, jerking her hips to find my mouth.

I placed the tip of my cock between her pussy lips while Mel sat over her face, her hands fondling Anna’s heavy milk-filled breasts. We exchanged a look, and I slid all the way inside in one stroke, sharing a moan with the girls. My first time having sex, with the sexiest girl, actively in labor! I started to move in and out, while Mel and Anna were teasing and touching each other like there was no tomorrow. I could feel Annas contractions as I fucked her, her birth canal pulsing around me as she was slowly dilating, her cervix opening to let her give birth.

Anna was moaning, grunting, and panting, not caring about our classmates watching her at her most vulnerable which, in my mind, was also at her peak of beauty and sensuality.

“You’re so bea… fuck… beautiful Anna!” I groan, before jerking my hips forward again, grinding against her clit, both of us seeking our pleasure.

“…Gonna cum… gonna cum…” she whispered back as both Mel and I caress her large pregnant belly, covered by a sheen of sweat and milk.

“Cum for us darling, let that pregnant pussy of yours gush for all to see…” Mel moaned in Anna’s ear, loud enough for me to understand. Those words were enough to push us all over the edge, cumming and screaming our respective orgasm. Mel grabbed onto Anna’s tits and tried to close her legs, shaking from head to toe, while I was emptying the biggest load of my life deep in our pregnant friend’s pussy, my body jerking on its own, seemingly trying to impregnate the girl actively giving birth. As for Annabeth, she was screaming her heart out, not caring about volume, her cries of pain, discomfort, and sheer pleasure mixing together as her water broke like a floodgate, drenching me in squirt and amniotic fluid.

“Oh god… oh god… my water broke… did my water really break?” She asked, still a bit out of breath, trying to look at me over her pregnant belly, Mel having jumped off her face.

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow with humor, my waist and torso still wet, cock softening slowly, but staying aloft for now.

“Yeah, I think your water broke. Do you need to change position?”

“Maybe… I’ll try standing UPPP!” She shouted, her legs wanting to give out, but Mel and I were quick enough to grab her arms. Anna dropped to a squat, her slit starting to bulge out and part.

“I feel like pushing… fuck! Fuck I need to push!” She shouted, her belly hardening as a contraction wracked her body. Her face scrunched up and she pushed, her lips moving further and further apart under the amazed looks of me and the rest of the class. With me not actively fucking Anna, I was able to split my focus and look at my classmates. Those that weren’t fucking each other or touching themselves were among the minority. The room was filled with shed clothes and moans of pleasure. Anna’s moaning brought me back to the present as she squatted lower, the head peaking out of her pussy. Her nipples were still leaking, ready to feed her baby, but Mel latched onto one of them, while I took the other into my mouth. We drank her sweet-tasting milk as she pushed her baby out, the head now crowning between her legs.

“Fuck it feels good! Keep going… keep going I’m gonna… cuuuuuuuum!” Anna groaned as she squirted the head out, a gush of fluid following her baby making its appearance into the world.

“You’re so hot mama, you’re doing so good. Almost there, ok?” Mel whispered while stroking the future mother’s hair and kissing her neck.

Anna almost purred at the touch, and wrapped her arms around me, squatting low, forcing me down with her. My arms were massaging her hips and offering counterpressure, her belly moving against me.

“Need to push… need to push… need to push…” She was repeating, almost in a trance. Even with her body covered in sweat and her hair sticking to her face, she was the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.

“Do it love, push your baby out. We all believe in you. I know you can.” I told her, kissing her neck and shoulder, before she pressed her lips against mine.

We kissed for what felt like an eternity, before she moaned louder into my mouth, her body shook again, and she finally gave birth into my waiting hands, who started to cry. Mel supported and helped Anna sit down, and I gave her the baby she pushed out with so much effort and grace. She started to nurse, exhausted, but beaming. Motherhood suited her so well.

Miss Bekerley, trying to readjust her skirt, soaked through with her juices, cleared her throat.

“Good job Anna, and congratulations on your bundle of joy! That was… quite a presentation. How will you call her?”

She turned to look at Mel and I, smiling softly, before turning to our newborn daughter.

“Like you said… Joy.”

#pregnancy #pregnancy kink #belly #belly kink #labor #labor kink #birth #birth kink #preg #lactation #lactation kink #orgasmic birth #mine #Story

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batbusiness-schooldropout · 4 months ago

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Unfortunately, I'm low on inspiration for our Girl's Night adventure. I shall leave off with what Bruce thinks is happening and what is actually happening. Feel free to take the story and do whatever you want with it, just tag me or something.

Bruce's Idea:

Conner ran afoul of some magic and is now up the duff with Tim's kid. Tim, being a paranoid gremlin, has called in a favor with Barbara and she is having a facility built for the purpose of caring for mother and child (Yes, Bruce does get a new gray hair everytime he thinks about what Tim and Conner have done).

Phantom is mostly likely hired muscle and a go-fer for the group. After the information about the pregnancy gets out, Tim receives a phone call, most likely about a health concern given his behavior and leaves. Probably to resolve whatever issues arose before returning and bold faced denying anything to do with the plot outside of threatening to explain in great detail how Conner's condition came to be

What is actually happening:

Someone was able to get a message to Oracle asking for help for 2 metas, one being very sick and the other injured. They said that they were being hunted by the government and that they needed to keep a low profile. (Ellie could also be heard shouting that if they were bringing a pity party, to not come at all) Oracle calls up her most trusted enforcers, Steph and Cass, who decide to disguise the mission as a Girl's Night that just took too long. Dick was invited because the "cruiser but secretly a bruiser" is a stick shift and only hipsters and old people know how to drive those.

After picking up Selina and the Fentons, they split into 2 teams with members coming and going to keep any one person from having a clear idea of what's going on.

One team is working on turning an abandoned building of some kind into a one room hospital. (Not important but they had to go out of their way to get old equipment because no one wants to risk any ectoplasm or magic mixing with new technology in unexpected ways. You wouldn't want the bed to start raising itself after all)

The other team is working on gathering intel on the GIW and sneaking any ghosts out that they can. The goal is to have everything ready to execute a raid within hours, if not minutes of the Anti-Ecto Acts being repealed.

Out of fear that the Justice League and its members might be traced back to the operation and jeopardize everyone's safety (if Vlad finds out what's happening, there's no telling if he'll possess a hero or not) Oracle tasks Tim with the civilian side of things. Some concerned reporters happen upon the Acts and write about them, and some equally concerned billionaires throw their opinions (and money) into the conversation, and public concern grows, and you know how this song and dance goes.

For better or worse, she also tasks Tim with ensuring that everyone, including the man himself, is too distracted to notice Bruce's finances. Since he's bank rolling the whole operation, even if he doesn't know yet. Tim decides to call Conner to unleash their greatest distraction plan. The old-fashioned "Teen Pregnancy Scare" tactic. The fact that they are both male barely slows them down or convinces anyone that they're lying.

Everyone looking at them is like, "I'm pretty sure you're lying, but with all the shit you all get into, I can't rule out honesty"

(Also maybe Ellie has to revert to a core and she needs someone to "carry" her. Before anyone else can process the information, Conner sees an opportunity for more chaos and volunteers. The absolute flabbergasted look on Clark's face when he sees a medical record detailing his progress was priceless)

#batfam #just siblings being siblings #dp x dc #girls night

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year ago

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What a bore

AN: Beginning the birthday festivities with ChanCheol. I had a more ambitious birthday fic in mind but, figuring out the logistics of sex with six men was a nightmare lol so, I settled on the top two for this year. Maybe I'll tackle the whole line next year.

Synopsis: Your coworkers are mostly palatable people, really, they are. Except for Yoon Jeonghan, who has quickly become the bane of your existence in the months since you've transferred. He thinks you don't do anything beyond work and stay in your apartment, and he has no problem telling you that. You're more than happy to prove him wrong with the help of your willing coworkers: Seungcheol and Chan.

General tags and warnings: Choi Seungcheol x Fem! Reader x Lee Chan, Non-Idol AU, coworkers to coworkers who fuck, they all work within a company with a pretty prominent drinking culture so, alcohol and alcohol consumption and Jeonghan is an asshole in this (there are elements of peer pressure and he's pretty passive-aggressive but, he does get somewhat better).

Smut tags: petnames, not exactly sex in an elevator, but there are moments of Chan and Reader getting hot and heavy in an elevator, they all have sex after drinking (no one is drunk, and everything is consensual), dirty talk, possessiveness if you squint, praise, nipple play (f. receiving), strength kink if you squint, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), overstimulation (f. receiving), Seungcheol licks Chan's fingers, piv sex without a condom, hair pulling, mild degradation, objectification if you squint, creampies, manhandling and aftercare.

Word count: 12.3K (*clown noises*)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Thursdays, typically, are days you don't care for. They're a stepping stone to the true hero of the week: Fridays. However, at Martinz, you've come to learn over the course of your past two months here, Thursdays were the best day of the week. It's in the way everyone glances at the clock, waiting for 17:00 to roll around. Almost everyone in the office practically jumping out of their poorly supported chairs as soon as the clock strikes. Hurriedly tugging on their jackets and making their way Jun's for drinks on the company's dime.

You've opted out since you've started here. Not really seeing the appeal in getting drunk with your coworkers when you still need to report for work the next morning. Especially knowing you don't exactly have the same tolerance you did when you were much, much younger. You're more than content to spend your Thursday nights bundled under your favourite blanket and catching up on your shows for the week.

Seungcheol, Chan and Jeonghan always extend an invitation without fail. Two sets of pleading eyes begging you to join them for the night while one is knowing but, he extends an invitation along with your other two coworkers nonetheless. You always decline. Appreciating their desire to include you but, you've never really been the type to interact with the people you work with more than necessary. It's how you operated at all of your previous jobs so, you don't see why anything would be any different here.

Seungcheol and Chan are understanding. To the point where guilt does twist up your insides a little but, their megawatt smiles help assuage any of it. Jeonghan, however, is not one to let things go easily as you've come to learn.

"Oh, going straight home again?" He asks while the four of you pack away your items for the night, his eyebrow raised as he observes you over the wooden dividers between your desks. Frankly, they should be higher in your opinion. You enjoyed the sight of the stunning man when you first started but, now his smug face and permanently raised eyebrow grate your nerves in a way that would be impressive if he wasn't so aggravating.

"Jeonghan," Seungcheol interjects, shooting you an apologetic look on the other man's behalf. Sometimes, you don't understand how someone as kind as Seungcheol can put up with him but, the two men are practically two peas in a pod. From your peripheral, you can see Chan shuffle uncomfortably in his seat. Not that you blame him. This is why you try to not interact with Jeonghan more than strictly necessary. The tension grows to uncomfortable levels even for you sometimes but, you have always been stubborn, as your best friend, Seungkwan, is fond of reminding you.

"What?" Jeonghan asks Seungcheol in a way that masquerades as innocent, "I'm merely making polite conversation with our colleague. That's all," he finishes, shooting you a look as though he's seriously waiting for you to answer his question when all four of you can likely recite your answer by heart by now.

"Yes, Jeonghan. I'm going home," you grit out, your fingernails digging into the faux leather material of your bag. Your jaw only clenching further when a grin speards across his face. It's all venom and, all three of you seem to brace yourselves for the words that leave his mouth next,

"Oh, of course. I suppose I should expect that from you. You are the more reserved type, after all."

You'll never admit it but, those words echo throughout your head all the way to your apartment. They remain in your mind and play on repeat while you change into your pajamas, order dinner for yourself and settle onto your couch. They continue to haunt you even during your attempt to distract yourself with trash reality television. You know yourself. You have no issues with the person you are. You're not going to let some asshole who hasn't even known you for three months rattle your self-image. You know how to have fun and enjoy yourself. That part of yourself just isn't any of your coworkers' business. Separating work and fun is a philosophy that has saved you from many headaches and much drama over the years. Jeonghan doesn't know shit.

Even with those assertions, it's difficult to forget his words for longer than you care to admit.

Thursday rolls around once more. You can already feel the migraine building behind your eyes when Jeonghan looks at you. Seungcheol and Chan, for their parts, choose to focus on their computers. You know they aren't actually working on any sales. They both have the subtlety of an elephant hiding behind a telephone pole. You do understand their lack of willingness to involve themselves unless Jeonghan pushes too far. Which you don't think will take him all that long.

"So, will you be joining us tonight?" He asks with that knowing smirk you want to wipe off of his face. His face resting in his hand while he waits for you to answer.

"Jeongha-"

"Don't you have work to do, Jeonghan? Is all you think about going out for drinks?" You ask with a faux curious tilt of your head, the saccharine tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by the three men. Seungcheol looks surprised that you not only cut him off from pulling the other man back in line but, that you responded to him at all. You suppose you've finally had enough. Being the bigger person gets exhausting very, very quickly.

Jeonghan looks intrigued by your response. Opting to bite, he says, "I finished my work over an hour ago. Plus, it's almost time to close up for the day anyways. I simply know how to balance work and enjoying myself. Perhaps you should take some notes out of my book," he finishes with a glint in his eyes.

What a fucking dick.

"You know what? Yes, I will be joining everyone for drinks tonight. I think I've earned it after how grating this week has been," you respond and maybe you feel too smug for your own good that surprise colours his face for a moment. However, Jeonghan being Jeonghan, it disappears nearly as quickly as it morphed onto his face.

"Hey, you know you don't have to come. Jeonghan's just being a dick," Chan chimes in, shooting you a reassuring look. Jeonghan pouts dramatically at being referred to as a dick but, he doesn't refute Chan's assertion. Given how he's treated you, he seems to have the self-awareness to know better.

"Yeah, we know not it's not for everyone. Hell, Jihoon maybe comes out like three times a year and, one of those is for his birthday," Seungcheol adds, big, warm, brown eyes looking at you softly. His full lips spreading in a smile that's meant to soothe the tension in the air. You appreciate the two of them. Honestly, they've been far kinder than you than you probably deserve but, this isn't about them right now.

"No, I want to. Don't worry. I'm curious to see what the excitement is about since Jeonghan can never quite stop talking about it," you respond with a miniscule upturn of your own lips. It's not much but, you hope it's enough to ease any concerns the two men have. They exchange a glance with each other while Jeonghan smiles with far too many teeth and his head resting in his hand,

"This'll be interesting."

Anxiety simmers in your bloodstream as you join your hoard of coworkers at Jun's. It's not a massive bar by any means but, you think you understand why it's become the go-to spot rather than anywhere else around your offices as soon as you step through the door. The atmosphere instantly feels welcoming, a stunning, giant of a man who you learn is named Mingyu greeting you all as you flow through the entrance. The booths and tables are quickly filled by the people from your office and, you scan the area looking for a place to sit that isn't outside or close to the bathrooms.

"Come on," Seungcheol says with a gentle nudge to your shoulder, the smile he gives you under the lowlighting of the bar heats your system in a way you think would be unwise to dissect right now, "We usually sit in booth number 8. We kind of have unofficial dibs on it," he says with a chuckle and you see Chan nod in agreement. Jeonghan doesn't say much, much to your surprise, as the four of you settle yourself into your seats.

Chan sits beside you while Seungcheol and Jeonghan opt to sit next to each other and across from the two of you. Shrugging off your coat, you briefly wonder if it would've caused you less of a headache to sit next to Jeonghan instead of looking at him for the entire night but, Chan's presence next to you is more than welcome. Plus, you can just look at Seungcheol instead, which isn't a terrible alternative. Not in the slightest.

"So, what would you guys recommend?" You ask in an attempt to crawl out of the shell you've crafted for yourself. You may have come out tonight mostly to spite your dick of a coworker but, you aren't opposed to having a decent time with your other coworkers. Plus, free alcohol and food are offers you know better than to say no to. Your parents would be disappointed in you otherwise.

"The soju here is really good," Seungcheol pipes up, glancing up at you over his menu. "The beer's great too," Chan says with a smile that disarms you a little seeing it so up close. Heat rushes to your face and you hide your face in your own menu, pretending to scan the items while you use the time to calm yourself down a little. Really? Getting flustered just because you're with your, admittedly, good-looking coworkers outside of work? Good lord. Get a grip.

"I'm going to be honest, I think beer is kinda gross," you say sheepishly and you nearly laugh at the affronted looks on both Seungcheol and Chan's faces. Hell, even Jeonghan cracks a smile that you'd consider a smidge genuine.

"Beer isn't gross," the older man protests with a pout that you're not used to seeing on his handsome face. It suits him. You wonder if you'd see it more if you came out with them. Maybe it makes itself known more outside of the confines of the office.

"Yeah, you've probably just had shitty beer," Chan argues with a nod so assertive you're a little worried he might hit his head hard on the back of the seat in your booth. You giggle at the two men nonetheless. Clearly your coworkers are avid beer drinkers and defenders.

"Or, consider, that beer just sucks," you argue with a smile and you have to bite back a laugh at the sincerely affronted looks the two men send your way, "Soju is okay. It's a little too bitter for my liking but, I don't mind it. But hey, why are you guys drinking soju on a Thursday?"

"Maybe because we're not killjoys and we can handle our alcohol," Jeonghan finally pipes up. You knew it was too good to be true. You knew you couldn't just have a decent night out with this man in your presence. The somewhat pleasant atmosphere that the three of you have managed to create is completely evaporated by Jeonghan's commentary and, you wonder if he's just like this or only like this because you're out with them tonight.

"Anyways," you continue on, choosing not to rise to his bait this time and scanning the various alcoholic beverages that span the menu, "I think I'm going to order a glass of red wine. I'm a bit of a lightweight too so, that should be a safe option," you say with a small smile to directed to the two other men in the booth, "I'll probably also get some fries because drinking alcohol on an empty stomach is no-no I learned the hard way."

"Wait, how'd you learn that lesson?" Chan asks, an amused smirk spreading across his handsome face while he glances at you. Seungcheol looks curious about that particularly story too. You're not sure if they're desperate to avoid you and Jeonghan spitting venom at one another or sincerely curious but, you indulge them nonetheless.

That's how you tell them about one night in your second year of university where you and Seungkwan were short on cash but, wanted a night out. The semester had been kicking your asses and you two thought you'd earned a night of flirting with cute boys and taking shots of tequila. So, pooling the little money you two had, you spent it all on and drinks and nothing else. Being too young and dumb and desperate for a good time to think about having dinner before hitting the clubs. Suffice it to say, you two paid handsomely for your choices.

Seungcheol and Chan remain invested throughout your story. Hiding their laughter in their mugs of beer that were set on your table along with your wine while you regaled them with the tales of your time in university. At times, electing to laugh out loud freely. Both of their laughs triggering giggles of your own. Embers of fondness flickering inside of you watching their faces contort with joy and, drinking in the way Seungcheol's dimples soften his face and the spread of Chan's smile adds to his already magnetic draw. Jeonghan only sneaks in a few jabs. Perhaps the alcohol is mellowing him out a little, his remarks not enough to distract you from the, surprisingly, good time you're having with your other two coworkers.

"Wait, he paid you to chug your beer in under three minutes? And you actually agreed?" You ask with a loud laugh, taking a generous sip of your second glass of wine.

"It was the principle of matter!" Seungcheol argues, his beer sloshing in his mug as he juts his hand out to emphasise his conviction, "A little cash didn't hurt too," he finishes off with a laugh, taking a swing from his glass.

"He did it though, and Soonyoung had to pay up. A lot. It was on him. What kind of idiot bets so much money on someone being able to chug beer?" Chan adds with a snort of his own.

"Soonyoung apparently," Seungcheol responds with a chuckle.

"Hey, a win is a win and, it sounds like you got quite the bit of cash out of it," you say with a small smile, warmth blossoming in your cheeks at the boyish, prideful grin Seungcheol shoots your way, "I don't think I have any uni stories about chugging drinks and making bets, unfortunately."

"Yeah, you don't seem at all like the adventurous type," a voice you'd be thrilled to never hear again chimes in before he smirks that insufferable smirk of his and sips from his own mug of beer. And you've just had it. It's been easy, for the most part, to ignore Jeonghan and focus on your more pleasant and handsome coworkers. However, maybe it's just that you've reached your breaking point or the alcohol flowing through your veins but, your aggravation reaches a fever pitch.

"What is your problem?" You finally turn to the source of your foul turn in mood, "What have I done to offend you so personally that you've been a pain in my ass since I started working with you? Or does my mere presence just bother you that fucking much?"

The entire table goes quiet at your outburst. You do feel a little bad about Chan and Seungcheol having to sit through this. For the nth time. However, the man across from Chan is just so insufferable and seems to enjoy needling a reaction out of you. Well, you hope he's satisfied with the one he ripped from you now.

Jeonghan appears taken aback by your response. His eyes wide and blinking at you while his mouth opens and closes repeatedly. He looks stupid. Good.

"I was just teasing. It was just some light hazing," he finally manages to spit out but, his answer just adds a generous heap of gasoline to those sparks of irritation in the pit of your gut.

"Some light hazing? Really? That's all you have to say for yourself? Being a dick to me for months is just some ha ha funny teasing? We all know you're too old to hide behind such a shitty excuse, Jeonghan," you retort with a smirk that likely looks like the ones he's fond of sending your way. More teeth and venom than anything else. His eyes flash then and perhaps you touched a nerve. Whoops.

"At least I'm not a bore that barely has any social skills," he spits in reply. Really, it's a horribly weak response and you could've easily been the adult here and let it go. Continue pretending he's not here and listening to more of Seungcheol and Chan's stories. You could have done all of that but, you're so tired.

"You think I'm boring huh?" You ask him with a smile that's far too saccharine, it even hurts your own face with the effort it takes from you. Turning to face Chan, you decide to make a choice. Is it incredibly impulsive? Absolutely. Is it incredibly stupid and reckless? Absolutely. Will it be worth it? Potentially.

"Chan, do you think I'm boring?" You ask the man with a bat of your eyelashes and a pout on your lips. Chan doesn't even hesitate before he's tumbling over his words to respond to you, "No-no, not at all!" His earnestness is cute, "Don't listen to Jeonghan. He's just being an asshole. His words don't mean jack shit."

"Thank you, Chan. I appreciate it. Really, I do," you respond with a more genuine uptick of your lips before continuing, "If I asked you to kiss me, would you?"

That causes his eyes to nearly bulge out of their sockets. You don't miss Seungcheol and Jeonghan's noises of surprise either but, you're focused on the younger of the three men at the moment. Typically your nerves would be more on edge but, interestingly, you're calm. Patiently waiting for the blonde to respond to your question while you take another swing from your glass.

"Are you- are you drunk?" Are the words he's finally able to stutter out, fingers tugging on his tie a little in what you can only assume to be nervousness.

"Chan, I know I said I was a lightweight but, two glasses of wine aren't enough to completely knock me out of my senses," you reply with a giggle. You likely wouldn't act this way without the liquid in your veins but it acts as a nudge at best. You'll show Jeonghan who's boring. "You don't have to say yes, of course," you assure him, "but, I think you're cute."

The blush that colours his face only adds to his attractiveness and, to your shock, he nods. You didn't expect him to truly agree to your, frankly, insane suggestion but, he well and truly nodded just now. You shift closer to him and ease your hands onto his handsome face. It's difficult to tell who closes the gap first but, in the grand scheme of things, you don't think it matters all that much. Chan is a good kisser. He might even be great. He presses his lips firmly to your own but, not to the point of being stiff. Any earlier hesitation he had has vanished without a trace. His mouth meeting your own eagerly and with skill that makes you the tiniest bit lightheaded.

You pull away first. You're not sure how far this would've gone and, you don't want to push your luck here. Cracking your eyes open (when did you close them?), you're greeted with a sight that sends your insides into a tizzy and prompts your thighs to rub together. Chan watches you through lidded eyes, his gaze zeroing in on your freshly kissed lips while he chases every bit of you he can on his lips with his tongue. Easing your hands off of his face, you turn to face the two speechless men. Jeonghan looks like you just shattered his entire world view. Seungcheol, however, looks stunned for an entirely different reason. Perhaps you're projecting but, you're certain you see traces of the look the younger man gave you moments ago reflected in Seungcheol's gaze. Your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes drift to your mouth not so subtly.

You can't help the smile that's threatening to split your face in half. Men. Predictable.

"Seungcheol," you drawl in a voice a little foreign to your own ears but, based on the visible shudder you see run over the built man, he doesn't mind the change all that much, "Would you like to kiss me too? Or are you worried I'm just as boring as your colleague over there asserts?" You ask with a faux innocent tilt of your head while you gesture leisurely towards the man beside him who still hasn't said a word.

Much like Chan, Seungcheol looks like he can't quite believe what you're offering. He exchanges a glance with the other blonde at the table and whatever discussion the two of them have helps him come to an answer. The knots in your insides that were beginning to twist themselves just from kissing Chan grow significantly more complex just from the weight of Seungcheol's gaze and the nod he directs your way. This time, more maneuvering is required on your part but, Seungcheol is more than happy to meet you halfway. This time, his hand reaches across to cup your jaw and you find yourself growing the slightest bit stupid just from the way his thumb drags itself along your skin.

"For the record, I've never thought you were boring," he mutters before encompassing you in bliss. Seungcheol's lips, you discover very quickly, are just as soft as they look. It doesn't take him long to take the lead in this liplock. Guiding your head just slightest bit so, it's angled exactly how he wants while every brush of his mouth makes you seriously contempt whether you require oxygen at all. You think you could just live off of him instead.

Much to your dismay, he pulls away first and you painfully understand the disappointment Chan felt earlier when you parted from him. You could kiss the two of them for hours, you think. It's your turn to stare at him in a daze and the self-satisfied smirk he shoots at you does horrible, terrible things to your heart and panties. The two of you part after that without much fanfare. The table is deathly silent for a moment while you stare down Jeonghan who still appears to be coming to grips with what just transpired before his very eyes.

"I suppose you still think I'm a bore who never does anything outside of my comfort zone," you say to him, leaning on your palm and delighting in his inability to respond, maybe a little too much. Seungkwan has always chided you for your affinity for spite. "I hope you don't take offense to my not being interested in kissing you, though."

"Okay, fuck," he finally breaks, dragging an elegant hand over his face in a way that is a far cry from the smug man you've come to know, "I'm sorry. I was being a dick. You didn't deserve any of that. I guess I just felt threatened by you and I was lashing out."

That bewilders you. A lot. Out of all the reasons for you to earn the ire of Jeonghan, you don't expect that to be his explanation. "Threatened by me? Why?" You finally manage to ask, staring at him like you can't quite believe this is all even real. What the fuck is your life right now?

"You're the first person in a very long time who's been real competition for me at work," he chooses to ignore Seungcheol and Chan's interjections and huffs of protest, "I didn't think I was a competitive guy until someone who was actually a challenge came around and, I felt threatened. I'm sorry. I know that probably won't cut it for all the jabs and remarks but, I think I owe you that much at the bare minimum."

"You're not the first insecure man I've had to deal with in this line of work and, you won't be the last," you snort, reacquainting yourself with your glass, "Yeah, you'll have to forgive me if it takes me some time to warm up to you but, I do appreciate this being a start. Who knew kissing our coworkers would be the way to get you to be honest?" You muse behind said glass, smiling at the way all three men blush. You can deal with the ethics of all of this tomorrow.

"I misjudged you," Jeonghan responds with a disbelieving laugh, "I would've never thought you'd do something like this."

"You know what they say about assuming," you retort but, there isn't as much venom in your voice. You suppose you can't be in too foul of a mood after kissing the two men who think they're being subtle with the glances they sneak your way.

After that, much to everyone's relief, the tension between you and Jeonghan dissipates significantly.

Without being on edge awaiting Jeonghan's next jab, you're more relaxed than you have been since you started working with the men. Laughing freely at his own stories of horrible night outs and last minute submissions from university. Smiling behind your glass when he shares especially embarrassing tales featuring Seungcheol and Chan, much to their dismay. The atmosphere is calming. Sneaking your own glances of the two men under the low light and appreciating the way it creates a halo effect on both of them. Not that they needed much aid with their looks as it is.

You don't fail to notice how Chan's thighs brush against yours or the way Seungcheol's foot accidentally bumps yours underneath the table. Seungkwan's voice chooses now to echo through your skull. His nagging about how you don't think things through before acting on your pettiness being a particular hit with every silent touch, nudge and look between the three of you. The ghosts of their lips haunting you and it's only been a few hours. Maybe you're more fucked than you realised, you think when Seungcheol sends you another brief weighted gaze before drinking from his mug and, Chan chooses then to rest his hand precariously close to your leg.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," Jeonghan says after a brief but, not unpleasant lull in conversation, "It's getting late and I have a shit tonne to do tomorrow," he finishes with a sigh for dramatics before sliding out of the booth and grabbing his jacket. You don't know him well enough and it might be a trick of the light but, you swear you see his eyes practically twinkling with an emotion very, very close to amusement as he takes his leave.

"Goodnight, get home safe," you offer in the tentative peace the two of you have built over the evening. He shoots you a smile that almost looks misplaced on his face. This one is much softer than any he's given you before and you think maybe you and Yoon Jeonghan may be begrudging, civil coworkers yet. Seungcheol and Chan provide their own farewells to the man but, otherwise don't make any moves to slip out of the booth along with him. You're not sure what to expect. Part of you assumed they tended to call it a night together but, based on the way they sink into their seats while the other man walks off to hail a cab, your assumptions are misplaced.

The silence in the booth is deafening and the air feels decidedly tense. Not tense in the way that had become a staple of your interactions with Jeonghan. No, this isn't nearly as awkward and uncomfortable. You'd think the same bravado that had prompted you to kiss the two men who you now remain in the booth with would continue to carry you for the night but, without Jeonghan here, you find your face growing warm with the gazes you know are being leveled at you. Electing, instead, to keep your eyes locked onto your empty glass and ignoring Chan's body heat radiating mere centimetres away from you.

"So," Seungcheol is the first one to break the silence. Of course, it would be him. Against your better judgement, you glance up at him out of curiosity and you almost instantly regret that decision. His eyes look glazed with what you suspect to be desire but, perhaps that's projection and the wine on your part. However, it's difficult to shake that suspicion when he just keeps looking at you like that. Full lips parted while his eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips long enough to leave you squirming in your seat and reminding you of the state of your panties, before settling somewhere beneath your neckline. You have eyes. You know Seungcheol is attractive. And knowing, that on some level based on the way he kissed you and the way he is essentially undressing you with his eyes, he thinks you're attractive too is a lot.

"It's been quite the night," Chan pipes up and you honestly don't know if you have the resolve to look at him right now. You can already feel yourself coming apart at the seams being the focal point of Seungcheol's attention, you don't think you can handle adding Chan into the mix. He's already too close and his cologne has steadily drifted into your space enough to further muddle your brain and turn your throat remarkably dry. "I'm glad you and Jeonghan sorted everything out. Well, sort of," he laughs and that does make you feel lighter. You've always thought Chan had the most endearing laugh, "Plus, we got to see a different side of you tonight too."

All of the less carnal thoughts you had briefly are quickly extinguished by the way his mouth curves around the word 'different' and Seungcheol's answering laugh. It's much deeper and drawn out than the cute giggles you've grown accustomed to from him and, your insides burn.

"I didn't think I'd end up with a kiss from my gorgeous coworker but, I can't say I'm complaining," Seungcheol adds and your heart stutters in your chest when 'gorgeous' registers in your foggy brain. Your hands clenching against your thighs, fingernails biting into your skin through your thin stockings.

"Same here," Chan replies and you can hear the grin in his voice clear as day. God. What is this night turning into?

"What's wrong? You haven't said anything since Hannie left. Cat got your tongue?" Seungcheol asks with a tilt of his head and it hits you in this moment why he and the other man got along so well. A glint you've only seen in Jeonghan's eyes shining clear as day in his while one corner of his mouth lifts up, his dimple making an appearance. You're so fucked.

"I'm not- I don't," you huff in frustration when the words you're looking for don't quite find you, "I'm fine. Just a little hot but, I'm good," you finally manage to spit out. Only feeling mildly embarrassed at the effort it took but, all things considered, you're proud of yourself.

"Hot huh?" Chan asks in a way that causes the pit of your stomach to drop. Considerably. That drop continues when he shifts closer to you and leisurely slings are a muscular arm over your shoulder. You hope against hope neither man hears the soft gasp that leaves your mouth at the contact. Your grip on your thighs growing harsher when you comprehend his broad body pressed into your side. It takes all of your strength not to rub your thighs together when his scent hits you more viciously this time.

"Would you like our help cooling off?"

That forces you to look at Chan. Mouth parting while all you can think to do is stare at him before turning towards Seungcheol who doesn't contest Chan's usage of 'our.' His eyes darker than they were minutes ago while he waits for your response. From the way Chan's fingers absentmindedly trace patterns you can't discern onto your shoulders, he's waiting for a response too. Surely they can't be suggesting what you think they're suggesting. Definitely not. There's no way. This is just a wine, touch starved induced daydream. That's all.

"Well?" Seungcheol prompts you with a raise of his stupidly attractive eyebrow. Is everything about this man just hot?

"Well what?" You attempt to spit back but, any stability in your voice is severely undercut by how breathless you sound. Fuck.

"Do you want our help cooling off?" Chan asks once again and there's no mistaking what he means by the way he's pressed against you and the dip in his voice. His words drifting into your ears like something akin to music. You can't believe you're getting flustered by the same guy who accidentally stapled his tie to his paperwork. Twice. In the same day.

But really, what do you have to lose? Ethics pretty much took a nosedive off of a steep cliff when you asked to kiss the two of them and they agreed. It's clear they want you as much as you want them. So much for promising yourself to never, ever sleep with a coworker. Here you are contemplating letting two of them fuck you. Your younger self would be aghast. However, you're here now. And you can already feel how sticky and uncomfortable your panties are with every second that ticks by. What's the worst that could happen?

You nod. Biting your lip in the process and trying your best not to dissolve into a puddle in Chan's arms while you wait for them to respond or react or just do anything.

"You'll have to use your words, sweetheart," Seungcheol drawls and the tinge of command in his voice makes your stomach perform an entire gymnastics routine. "Yeah, we can't know what you want unless you tell us, baby," all of these petnames are going to make you lose your mind. Especially coming from both of them.

"I-I want you both to help me," you finally say. You're sure Chan can feel the heat radiating off of your face in waves but, you just hope that that confession is enough for them.

"Well, we shouldn't keep you waiting then," Seungcheol says with a grin that borders on wolfish. Yeah, you can definitely understand why he and Jeonghan are such close friends. It all makes sense now.

"There are a few hotels we can choose from down the street," Chan comments, the brush of his blonde hair against your skin sends a shudder down your spine. It really has far too long since you've been touched properly if his hair brushing against your skin is enough to cause you to react so strongly.

"I'm down if the two of you are," you muster, using every last bit of your nerve to glance at both of them to emphasise your seriousness. They both look like the way to eat you alive and, yeah, having both Choi Seungcheol and Lee Chan's gazes on you at the same time is incredibly overwhelming to put it mildly.

"Fuck, let's get out of here," Seungcheol practically groans, grabbing his jacket before shimming out of the booth at break neck speed. Your body moves before your brain can catch up. Sliding out onto very unsteady feet, coming into contact with Seungcheol's incredibly solid frame while he steadies you. You choose to ignore the knowing grin that spreads across his face while Chan grabs both of your respective possessions and joins the two of you.

"Shall we?" The younger man asks as if the three of you are getting ready to grab coffee with each other and not book a night in one of those inconspicuous hotels.

"We shall," Seungcheol responds and you truly cannot believe how cheesy they are. You're not sure what it says about you that these are the two men who caused you to make a mess in your panties and wobble on your feet. Thankfully, they choose not to drag things out after that exchange. The few coworkers who haven't taken Jeonghan's lead and headed home too wave you all off when you pass their tables. Oh. If only they knew.

It all feels real now. It's one thing to impulsively kiss your coworkers and flirt over drinks. It's a whole other matter to walk out of the bar and walk down the street to a hotel that blends in seamlessly to all of the other businesses. You're too busy being sandwiched between the two muscular men to catch the name. Not that it matters all that much in the grand scheme of things.

"Hello, could we please book a room for the night? We're not particular on what kind," Seungcheol asks the receptionist. Your face warms when they scan the three of you and raise their eyebrow marginally before typing away at their computer. Chan rubs your side and gives you another one of his blinding smiles while Seungcheol handles the details of whatever room the three of you are going to tumble into. Fortunately, they don't take long to wish the three of you a good night and hand over a room key. You all chorus your thanks in return before making a b-line for the elevator.

Chan is on you as soon as the doors shut. A surprised gasp from you echoes loudly in the tiny box when he nudges you against the cool wall. His lips pressing featherlight kisses along your jaw while his hands grasp your hips. Groping and fondling every part of you he can while Seungcheol watches the two of you in a mixture of amusement and desire. Your walls clench when your eyes meet over Chan's shoulder and he sends you a lopsided smile that shoots straight to your clit.

Much to your disappointment, the doors open in what feels like seconds later and Chan separates from you with such ease that it gives you whiplash. You're sure you already look like a wreck and here he is walking out as though he wasn't peppering your throat with kisses while his erection rested against your thigh. Seungcheol has the audacity to laugh at the pout on your lips but, he pulls you out of the elevator with ease. It doesn't take much scanning before the three of you stumble into room 259. It's a pretty luxurious suite. You're a little worried about just how much Seungcheol swiped away nonchalantly when paying for this room but, the two men are on you as soon as the door shuts behind them and before you can think about the cost of tonight further.

This time, it's Seungcheol's lips that descend upon you. Unlike the younger man, he opts to take his time. Kissing you as though he has all of the time in the world. His large hands reaching up to cup your face and drag his thumbs along your cheeks. Chan does not share the older man's affinity for patience. You throb harshly when you feel his cock pressing against your ass. Gasping into Seungcheol's mouth with every grind and kiss he sears into your neck. His hold on your hips is unrelenting. Keeping you in place while he finds relief in your body and the two men push you towards insanity. It doesn't help that you can feel the beginnings of Seungcheol's hardening cock prod your stomach too.

Before you're aware of what's happening, both men push you towards the monstrous large bed. Seungcheol laughs when a whine is ripped from your throat when you separate from the two of them, "We're going to take care of you, baby," he soothes while he kicks off his shoes and makes himself comfortable on the bed, "Don't worry."

"Yeah," Chan chimes in after some time, the throaty quality of his voice turns the storm of butterflies in your stomach into a hurricane, "Just need to get you in place first. Want to taste you," he mutters while he watches Seungcheol tug you towards him with heavy eyes. Situating you between his thick thighs while his lips occupy Chan's previous position and his hands drag along your body. Between every brush of his large hands and the outline of his cock resting against your lower back, it's all so much. However, then your brain is finally hit by Chan's words.

"Taste me?" You whisper, watching the younger man when he opts to position himself between your thighs. Your heart rising to your throat and close to bursting while his hands leisurely stroke your legs. Even through your stockings, his touch only adds to the sticky mess at the apex of your thighs. "Mhm," Chan hums in affirmation, carefully taking off your work heels and kissing along your left leg while his hand shoves up your skirt, "Been thinking about this for weeks," he mutters, meeting your eyes as his kisses reach higher and higher.

"When you wear these tight skirts that cling to your ass and shirts that hug your tits, how could we not?" Seungcheol mummers in agreement with Chan directly into your neck and a shiver runs from the top of your spine straight to your pulsing, neglected clit. His fingers shift to unbutton your blouse, more and more of your cleavage spilling out with every steady movement. Your brain is reeling from their confessions and every touch they imprint onto your body. Whimpers all you can think to respond with when Chan reaches your inner thighs and Seungcheol impatiently tugs your shirt off of your shoulders.

"Tempting us for months now," Seungcheol continues with a teasing edge to his voice into your shoulder while his hands knead your breasts over your bra. Chan hums in agreement against your thigh. Tugging your skirt further up your waist and, you throb when his lidded gaze finds yours between your thighs. "And that little show you put on for Jeonghan," Seungcheol chuckles while his fingers drift from your breasts to fiddle with your clasps. Between your breasts finally being free and Seungcheol wasting no time in cupping them in his large hands and, Chan pressing his face directly onto your covered slit and groaning, you can already feel yourself growing overwhelmed.

"Well, maybe it wasn't just a show," Seungcheol says between kisses to your neck that prompts goosebumps to rise with every brush of his lips, his thumbs dragging slow circles against your hardened nipples that force mewls from your throat. You'd shut your thighs if Chan wasn't firmly slotted between them, honestly.

You're brought out of your haze when a ripping sound hits your ears and cool air hits your drenched panties. A startled gasp leaved your lips when you look down to see that Chan ripped your fucking stockings. You're not sure if you're more annoyed or aroused right now.

"Chan," you hiss, though you doubt you sound angry enough since Seungcheol's fingers are still toying with your nipples and his strong hands eagerly knead as much of your breasts as he can fit in his palms. He even has the nerve to laugh against your shoulder. The fucking audacity.

"I'm sorry," he certainly doesn't sound all that sorry, "I just got impatient. I'll buy you a new pair. Hell, I'll buy you as many pairs as you want," Chan says, his eyes solely focused on your now exposed, wet panties. Before you can think of a retort, he moves them out of the way and wastes no time in lapping at your soaked slit.

If Seungcheol didn't have you firmly pressed to his broad chest, you think you may have crumpled on the spot.

Chan is a passionate man. It bleeds into his work and, he's one the hardest working people you've ever met. Apparently, those characteristics are not only part of his work persona. He doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. Moaning into your pussy while his hand presses against your thigh to make sure you remain spread for him. Keens ripping from your body when he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, alternating between licks and sucks. Experimenting to see what prompts the best reactions from you. Watching you under his lashes when he licks particularly hard and your hips jolt into his mouth.

"Is Chan making you feel good, baby?" Seungcheol whispers into your ear, a whimper leaving you when he bites down on your lobe and his fingers tug a little harder on your nipples.

"Ye-Yes," you moan, one of your hands weaving into Chan's blonde locks, not sure if you want to shove him closer or push him away. Fortunately, his hold and mouth make the choice for you. His tongue dragging patterns your hazy mind couldn't hope to discern while one of his hands joins him. A quiver running over your entire body when two of his fingers tease your entrance.

"Both of y-you. Both of you are making me feel so goo-good," you manage to hiccup.

"Fuck," Seungcheol grunts, one of his hands reaching up to cup your jaw. Thick fingers pressing into your cheeks fiercely while he angled your face towards him, slamming his mouth against yours and greedily drinking in every sound of pleasure you let out. The kiss is messy and poorly coordinated. It's more tongue and spit and desperation than anything else and you love it.

Chan chooses then to stop toying with you. Gingerly pushing two of his fingers into you, you're more than wet enough to take it but, you still shift marginally to adjust to the stretch they provide. Your tugs on his hair grow more incessant and you barely have the presence of mind to kiss Seungcheol back. You feel no better than a baser creature right now. The obscene sounds of just how wet you are for both of them bouncing off the walls with every careful movement of Chan's fingers. A far cry from the way his mouth is determined to devour you whole.

"You taste so good," Chan groans against you briefly before diving back in, curling his fingers faster than before and allowing them to push further into your tight heat. A wanton, broken moan leaves your bruised lips when you and Seungcheol finally separate for air when Chan finds the most sensitive part of your walls. You would roll your eyes at the smirk he presses against you if you could. Really, you would. However, you can already feel your thighs starting to shake and more of your wetness gushing down his palm with every brutal curl of his fingers and lick of your clit.

"Are you getting close, sweetheart?" Seungcheol's question forces your eyes open (when had you even shut them?) and the heat in his eyes makes your walls clamp down on Chan's fingers.

"Uh huh," you whimper, using all of your strength to keep your eyes open to look at the older man while he rubs soothing circles into your cheek and his other hand gropes one of your breasts. "'M so close, Cheol. Wanna cum so bad. Channie's mouth and fingers feel so good. Please," you doubt you're making much sense at this point but, it can't be helped when you feel that familiar knot in the pit of your gut growing tighter and tighter. Your words motivate the younger man further. His fingers happily exploit the weakness he found along your walls and he sucks on your clit vigorously.

"Well, then cum for us, baby. Want you to make a mess for us. On Channie's face and fingers."

Well, that does you in.

You're once again thankful that Seungcheol is bracing you against him because you would have dissolved into a puddle the moment your orgasm barreled into you. He kisses you through it. It's not as fierce as his earlier kisses but, you appreciate it nonetheless while you moan and whimper into him. Chan keeps going through it all. Licking along your slit to lap up as much of you as he can while his fingers continue to work inside of your spasming walls. Not giving you the slightest chance to shut your thighs and making you take every, single sensation while you try your best to ride out one of the most intense orgasms of your fucking life.

"Ch-Channie," you whimper, pulling away from Seungcheol and tugging on the younger man's hair in an attempt to separate him from your poor, throbbing pussy, "Too much," you heave, shaking in Seungcheol's arms. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he gives you a few more kisses before unlatching himself from you. He eases his fingers out of you slowly and it feels like a fucking lifetime before you're painfully empty once again.

You're panting and heavily slumped against Seungcheol who happily lets you rest against him. Chan rests against the backs of his legs once he comes up for air too, his chest heaving just as heavily as yours. His face is flushed and the bottom half of it is drenched in spit and your juices. His tongue peaking out to chase as much of your wetness as it can reach, his eyes glazed with desire. God, you don't think you'll ever forget the sight of him like this.

"You should taste her," are the first words he speaks, the scratchiness in his voice shooting straight to your near overstimulated clit, "She tastes fucking heavenly. Honestly could've kept my mouth on her all night," he borderline moans to the older man over your shoulder.

"Based on the way you were humping the mattress and nearly came in your pants, I bet she does," Seungcheol laughs from the depths of his chest, his body vibrates with it. Chan scowls at the older man, "I didn't nearly cum in my pants. It's not my fault she tastes good and I got fucking hard," he pouts and, god, him pouting while his mouth is still covered with you should not be so hot.

"Here, taste for yourself," Chan retorts, lifting the hand that is still covered in you towards the older man. That catches you off-guard. If Seungcheol wasn't behind you, you'd be staring at the man unblinkingly to see how he responds. How he reacts. However, you can't see him or what expression he's making at Chan's offer.

"Fine," and like that you hear the sound of him lapping at the younger man's fingers with the same enthusiasm Chan had when he was between your thighs.

These two want you to fucking die.

"See?" Chan asks with a smug smirk spreading across his face, pulling his fingers back. The knowledge that they're now wet with Seungcheol's spit significantly worsens the ache between your thighs.

"You're right," Seungcheol grumbles from behind you, strong hands moving to run along your sides, "I need to get a taste for myself later," he muses, grasping at your hips and squeezing them hard.

The thought of his mouth on you causes you to whimper. And, unfortunately for you, both men hear you based on the heavy looks you can feel on you right now.

"Greedy," Seungcheol laughs behind you and you ignore the heated rush that courses through your veins, "Wonder how long you've imagined having both of us like this," Chan muses, watching you through his bangs and god, you don't understand how he manages to look so fucking hot. Maybe Seungcheol is right. Maybe you are just insatiable for both of them. Your lust is a bottomless pit.

"Since the first week I started working with the two of you," you breathe and your noise of surprise is muffled by Chan. Your eyes widen and your brain takes a second too long to kiss him back but, you eventually do nonetheless. Melting into him when the taste of your cum hits your tastebuds. Desperate hands clutching at his previously pristine work shirt while he licks into your mouth.

"You should've told us. We could've had you like this for weeks," Seungcheol whispers into your ear, shallowly rutting himself against your ass while Chan continues to messily make out with you.

"Fuck," you moan into the younger man's mouth at Seungcheol's words, the throbbing starting to teeter on painful once again, "Please. Fuck me, please. I want both of you. I'm so empty, it hurts," you whimper, touching and attempting to grasp at both of them simultaneously. Anything to relieve the endless desperation you're drowning in.

"Poor baby," Chan coos once he's pulled away from you, his eyes watching the way his thumb drags along your bottom lip before looking at Seungcheol once again. Whatever exchange they have this time doesn't take long before Chan's eyes are on you once again, "Be a good girl and bend over, sweetheart. We'll take care of you."

It's all a scramble of limbs and hurried movements from there. You miss the warmth and safety of being caged by Seungcheol but, the promise of being filled motivates you more. The sounds of clothes rustling catches your attention and your breath stops in your lungs as you watch Chan hurriedly shrug his shirt off to reveal years worth of hard earned muscle. Saliva pooling in your mouth when he unbuckles his belt and kicks off his boxers and dress pants, his cock slapping against his stomach and making you clamp down hard.

"Like what you see?" He asks and this time you do roll your eyes at him, "Shut up," you respond and Seungcheol laughs from his position against the headboard.

"Quite the mouth you've got there, sweetheart," Chan says as he comes up behind you, his hands grasping your stockings and hurriedly pulling them and your ruined panties off of you. Leaving you completely nude and exposed to both men. "Let's see if you'll still be mouthing off to me in a bit," he says, kneading your ass. His blunt fingernails biting into your skin and sending lightning from the top of your spine to the very base.

A strangled gasp bounces off the walls when he rubs himself against your ass, groaning at the friction and watching you grow wetter and wetter with each grind of his cock against you.

"Chan, please," you whine, pressing back into him in search of any kind of relief.

You expect him to give you a tougher time. Tease you. Toy with you until frustrated tears brim your eyes but, fortunately, he seems just as pent up as you are.

"I've got you, baby," he practically moans, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock. Ensuring he's sufficiently coated in your wetness before he carefully starts to push into you. Your combined sounds of pleasure quickly fill the entire room, your eyes fluttering shut with every centimetre he sinks into you. You're so wet. Wet enough that it's smeared your thighs but, the stretch is still overwhelming. Your fingers clawing at the sheets and your mouth hanging open as your walls try to accommodate Chan's girthy cock.

"You're doing so well, pretty girl," Seungcheol soothes you, reaching for you and cupping your heated face. You'd honestly forgotten about him for a moment. However, his touch and words are more than welcome. They help you relax as much as you can until Chan bottoms out. Cracking your eyes open, you moan at the sight of the older man watching you with a mixture of softness and desire. Your eyes dropping to map as much of his skin with them as you can. You don't know when he removed his shirt but, you weren't complaining in the slightest.

Your walls clench and unclench around Chan's cock sporadically, trying to grow accustomed to the thick intrusion while Chan's hands continue to knead your ass and Seungcheol helps you relax as much as you can.

"Ch-Chan. You can m-move," you finally whimper out when the discomfort subsides substantially. He hums in affirmation before slowly pulling out of you halfway and thrusting back in just as slowly. It's still a fucking lot and, you can already feel the strength to hold yourself up leaving you. A broken moan leaving your bruised lips and Seungcheol chooses then to kiss you. One of his hands drifting to your hair and tugging on it lightly while Chan continues to shallowly work you open. His cock deliciously dragging along your slick walls while he moans softly behind you.

"Is Chan's cock making you feel good?" Seungcheol asks teasingly, his eyes glinting when you shut your eyes as Chan gives you an especially deep stroke, his hands spreading your ass so he can watch the way you cling to him and coat his cock. Your brain is quickly turning to liquid in your skull as his pace picks up a bit. Not too much but, enough for the sounds of his balls hitting you to become more audible.

"I asked you something, baby," Seungcheol says, the darker edge to his voice unconsciously making you tighten around Chan who groans louder than he previously had, his hips snapping into you hard enough to push you towards Seungcheol.

"Ye-Yes, Cheol. Ch-Channie's dick is making me feel s-so go-good," you finally stutter out. You have an inkling the other man knows what he's doing because it doesn't take much after that for Chan to fuck into you with very little hesitance. Thick fingers moving to hold onto your hips and keeping you firmly in place so you couldn't squirm away from him. That finally evaporates any strength you had left. Seungcheol happily lets you rest against his thigh and his cock, straining against his boxers, joins your line of sight.

"Che-Cheol," you whimper, trying to collect all of your brain cells that aren't currently mush right now. Reaching for his cock and needily palming him over his boxers, prompting a grunt from the man from the very back of his throat.

"God, you're so fucking cock hungry," he grits out, his hips pressing into your hand to help alleviate some of the pressure. "Chan's already fucking you and here you are trying to get my dick out," he groans, looking down at you through his damp hair.

"I think she likes when you talk to her like that," Chan laughs breathlessly behind you, leaning down to press a kiss against your back while he continues to fuck into your warm, wet walls, "Our little cockslut."

The word makes you whine into Seungcheol's thigh. Much like Chan, he seems to be a little too fond of being a bit mean to you too based on the way he chuckles. "Don't be shy," he coos, reaching down to cup your face and make you look at him. You're sure you look like a fucking wreck right now. "If you want to suck me off, you could've just asked, baby," he says, his fingers brushing along your bottom lip and following the movements religiously. A quiet curse that falls from his plump lips as he watches you. That's more than enough motivation for him to pull his hands away from you and tug off his boxers. Tossing them to join the mess you've all made on the hotel room floor.

Seungcheol is big. No, big is putting it mildly. Seungcheol is fucking massive. The sound his cock makes when it hits his thigh is enough to intimidate you further. Not that it required much since the sheer size of him was enough to prompt your eyes to widen, mouth to salivate and pussy clench viciously around Chan.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he says once you've ogled him sufficiently, his eyes shining with concern and his hand toying with your hair.

"No, I want to. I want you in my mouth, Cheol."

His cock jumps at your words and you think his reaction is going to supply you with enough confidence to last at least a lifetime. "Fuck, okay. I'll go slow," he groans, wrapping his hand around his cock and you didn't think it could look any more appealing until now. True to his word, Seungcheol does very, very slowly push into your mouth. He tastes a little salty but not unpleasant. It does take awhile for you to adjust to his size and you can already feel the ache developing in your jaw. However, it's worth it. It's so worth it the way Seungcheol groans when he's halfway in your mouth. It's worth it when his fingers weave themselves in your hair and tugging on it gently while he shallowly fucks your mouth.

Between the way Chan molds you around his cock and the way you drool around Seungcheol's, you aren't really capable of much else than letting the two of them find pleasure in your body and taking the pleasure they give you. Your body jolts when the fat head of Seungcheol's cock hits the back of your throat.

"Shit, 'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?" He asks, his warm, brown eyes looking down at you with concern. You try your best to nod with him still in your mouth. Conveying to him that it's okay and he once again thrusts into your mouth. This time around you're better prepared to handle the brush of his cock on the back of your throat. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight. You love being our little toy to use huh?" Chan moans, his hand snaking between your slick thighs to rub heavy-handed circles into your clit. Your pitchy moans are muffled by Seungcheol's cock, spit dribbling down your chin while your body shudders as Chan drags you onto his cock and pushes you closer and closer to another orgasm.

"You're taking my cock so well, sweetheart," Seungcheol praises, his pace picking up slightly until the sounds of you choking on him join the litany of noises that fill your hotel room. You can already tell that your throat will be raw tomorrow but, you don't care. You can't when he looks so stunning fucking your mouth and copious amounts of his pre-cum join the mess slipping past your lips.

"Fuck," Chan grits behind you, his thrusts quickly shifting from precise and brutal to sloppy and bordering on uncoordinated. Based on the way his cock twitches inside of you, you wager that he's close. You're proven right not long after that when he chokes out your name before pressing his hips flush against your ass, his cock throbbing as rope after rope of his cum floods your eager and awaiting walls. Between the warmth that floods your pussy and his continued rubbing your clit, you tumble over the proverbial edge soon after him. All your whimpers and mewls turn to vibrations around Seungcheol's cock, overstimulated tears streaking down your face as your body spasms along with Chan's.

"Fuck, pretty girl, you should see yourself," Seungcheol grits out, easing his cock out of your mouth while you try to gather your bearings as Chan holds onto you to steady himself. Your walls still spasm around his softening cocl through the aftershocks and that just prompts him to dig his fingers into you and, moan quietly.

"Are you two okay?" Seungcheol asks with equal parts concern and amusement, eyeing your respective fucked out states.

"Yeah, just needed a moment," Chan responds first, gently pulling out of you. You can't help but, cringe at the feeling and the sudden emptiness. Your body finally collapsing onto the sheets since Chan isn't holding you up any longer. Your thighs feel little better than jelly at the moment and your breathing is still laboured.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you reply once you start to come back to yourself, blinking up at Seungcheol who shoots you a gentle smile and strokes your hair. You notice that he's very much still hard and part of you wonders why he didn't just cum in your mouth. You'd be more than happy to let him.

"You haven't cum yet," you say, glancing at his wet, very hard cock before looking at his face.

He laughs and Chan snorts behind you, "I didn't want it to be too much for you. Don't worry. If you're tired, I can just take care of myself and we can call it a night."

You can't help but pout and reach for him, wrapping a hand around him and delighting in the hiss that leaves his lips, "I'm not tired and I want you to cum too, Cheol. Do you want to use my mouth or cum inside too?"

You probably shouldn't find the way his jaw clenches so attractive yet here you are.

"Told you she was a cockslut," Chan pipes in and you shoot him an annoyed look over your shoulder briefly. You doubt you look all that mad at him since you take a moment to appreciate the way his blonde locks stick to his damp forehead and a thin sheen of sweat makes him look even more mouthwatering, "Shut up, Chan," you retort before turning back to the other man and waiting for his answer.

"You're trying to kill me," Seungcheol jokes, sounding short of breath, "Can you roll onto your back for me, baby?"

You comply so fast that you're surprised you don't give yourself whiplash. Chan grins at you before moving out of the way without much fanfare. Taking Seungcheol's previous position against the headboard and being content to spectate this time around.

It's one thing to see Seungcheol while Chan was rearranging your spine but, the vision he makes between your thighs will be the stuff of your fantasies for years to come after tonight. He's longer than Chan. You can tell as much just from looking at him and feeling the younger man inside you. It's going to be an adjustment but, you're more than ready to take him.

"Are you ready?" He asks, glancing at you through his bangs while he grinds against your wet slit. Sneaking a few peaks to watch the way you cover him in your wetness. You would giggle at his complete lack of subtlety if you weren't itching to feel him.

"Seungcheol, yes," you whine, grinding back against him so he knows you're more than certain about this.

"Never hurts to make sure," he tuts but, grabs himself in his hand nonetheless. Guiding himself to your wet entrance and very gradually sinking into you. Your mouth hangs open as a gasp leaves your lips at the sensation. Fortunately, the stretch isn't too overwhelming. Chan certainly made sure of that. However, Seungcheol is still big and it takes you a while to grow accustomed to the way he pushes into you.

"Chan was right," he groans, watching your face and body for any signs of this all being too much, "You're so fucking tight and wet, baby."

All you can do is moan in response. Pitchy whimpers being punched from your chest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. Your eyes drift from drinking in the way his face contorts beautifully to glancing down to watch him split you open and tightening around him at the sight.

"Taking me so well," he mutters, leaning down to press a frenzied kiss to your lips before he starts moving. Your hands find themselves on his broad back, your fingernails digging into it with every deep stroke he gives you. He eagerly swallows your gasping moans when he shoves your legs back, using his strength to keep them pressed to your chest and cursing against your bruised lips when he sinks impossibly deeper into you.

"I'm going to be honest," he pants against your mouth as he fucks into you, his cock dragging against your walls, a combination of your wetness and Chan's cum beginning to leak out of you and dribble down your ass with every jolting thrust he gives you. "I don't think I'm going to last that long," he pants, nuzzling your neck and lavishing your throat with licks, nips and kisses.

"'Is okay," you squeak when he brushes against the sensitive patch against your walls, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your skull. "Want you to cum. Want you to cum inside, Cheol," you whimper, clutching him as close to you as humanly possible. Not caring in the slightest at the sweat you can feel dripping onto your skin.

"Fuck, baby. Don't say that," he moans against your skin between kisses, his hands gripping your thighs for dear life while he continues to chase his release. God, he's so fucking deep you're certain you can feel him in the pit of your stomach where that all too familiar knot begins to tighten once more. The obscene squelching of your pussy combined with his breathy curses seared into your skin only fueling the simmer building in your gut. You're not sure if you can cum again right now but, based on the way his cock bullies your pussy, you're not sure how much of a say you have in the matter.

Seungcheol, unlike Chan, catches you off-guard when he falls apart. His strangled warning of 'cumming' is the only signal you receive before he gives you one brutal thrust and completely remains inside of you to cum as deeply as he possibly can. You wouldn't be surprised if you found bruises on your thighs tomorrow from the way his thick fingers clutch at them while he rides out his climax, his cock pulsing nonstop inside of you. It's like he cums endlessly and you kiss the side of his head as he shudders on top of you, his breaths fanning over your heated skin.

Seungcheol barely has enough strength left but he uses it to pull out of you (you don't think the feeling will ever stop being unpleasant) and rolls onto his back to catch his breath. You don't blame him. You're about five seconds from passing out and you can already feel the mess of combined cum smearing your thighs. You are genuinely a little worried about how you're going to get your legs to cooperate with you.

"Nope, no passing out," Chan says, leaning over you. He's so handsome. Even when he's annoying you and you want nothing more than to shove him aside and crawl under the covers. "We have to get you all cleaned up first," he tuts, booping you on the nose. It's difficult for you to reconcile this man with the one that made you almost cry from pleasure not too long ago.

"I'm tired," you whine, flicking him lightly on the forehead and smiling at the splutter you receive in response, "Plus, my legs feel like jello. I don't know if I could get up if I wanted to."

"We'll help you. It's our responsibility after all," Seungcheol mutters, looking as tired as you feel but sending you a reassuring smile all the same.

You're barely awake as the two men help you to the bathroom. Helping you clean up while doing the same for themselves until the three of you are no longer a sweaty, gross mess. You don't remember much before you find yourself wrapped up in the soft hotel covers, snuggling into one of them. You're not sure who and, you honestly don't care beyond whoever it is incredibly warm and solid beneath your touch. Sleep finds you within minutes after that.

Your groan when the (unfortunately) familiar sound of your alarm violently drags you out of the land of the unconscious. You blindly reach for it but, come into contact with something muscular and hot instead. That wakes you up. Blinking your eyes open, you're met with someone's back instead and that's when the events of last night come slamming into you.

Oh god. So that really happened. You really had sex with your two coworkers. That wasn't just some surreal dream.

"Whoever's alarm that is, shut it off," a tired, scratchy voice grumbles behind you. Using the arm he'd slung around your waist to tug you closer to his broad chest. Seungcheol.

"I need you to let go of me first," you respond sheepishly, the rough quality of your voice surprising you but, then you remember the way the man behind you used your mouth last night and you suppose this is to be expected.

He only grumbles minimally before eventually letting you go. You're sore. Unsurprisingly. However, you do try your best to crawl to the foot of the bed until you find your purse, thankfully, within reach. You hit the dismiss button quickly before crawling back to your spot. You have no clue how Chan can sleep through that. The man must be a fucking rock.

"We need to get ready for work," you whisper to Seungcheol with a frown, resting your arm across your forehead and sighing.

"Or," you nearly jump out of your skin when the younger man turns to face the two of you with a grin on his face, "We could just call in sick," he offers with a shrug. Typically you'd protest the idea more but, you're so exhausted and you highly doubt you'd be able to get up on your legs right now even if you gave it your all.

"I second that," you respond, glancing at the older blonde to see his reaction. He looks pensive for a moment before replying,

"Well, it's settled then."

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

#choi seungcheol smut #lee chan smut #s.coups smut #dino smut #seungcheol smut #chan smut #seventeen smut #scoups smut #s coups smut #choi seungcheol x reader smut #lee chan x reader smut #seventeen x reader smut #s.coups x reader smut #dino x reader smut #scoups x reader smut #chan x reader smut #s coups x reader smut

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otdiaftg · 10 months ago

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The King's Men - Chapter Seven

Day: Wednesday, January 17th Time: 8:30 PM EST

"And he says it isn't a righteous streak," Andrew mused, more to himself than to Neil. "If it was righteousness I'd ask you to give up drinking and smoking, too," Neil said. "I'm only asking for this one thing. It doesn't have any effect on you anyway and it's an unnecessary risk. You don't need a third addiction." "I don't need anything," Andrew reminded him, right on cue. "If you don't need it, it'll be easy to give it up," Neil said. "Right?" Andrew thought it over a minute, then flicked his cigarette at Neil. It singed the material where it bounced off his shirt. Neil ground it out under his shoe when it hit the asphalt. The cool look he flicked Andrew was wasted; Andrew's gaze had already drifted past him in search of something more interesting. "I'm going to take your temper tantrum as a yes," Neil said. "I'll bring the money by your room tonight." "Will you?" Andrew slid his stare back to Neil's face. "Rather, can you? Aaron doesn't want you in the room anymore, Nicky says. Something about you inviting yourself to fights that aren't your concern?" He waggled his hand in a so-so kind of gesture. "This phone tag nonsense has left the message a little unclear. Perhaps you'll explain to my face why you're suddenly so interested in my brother's life." "I'm not," Neil said. "Without the lies," Andrew added. "I'm not," Neil said again. "I can't stand him, but we're out of time. I told you last October we can't make it to finals if we're a fractured mess. You two are holding us back. I had to start with one of you. Since everyone bets on Aaron and Katelyn, I thought he'd fight you for her." "Wouldn't that be an interesting change of pace," Andrew said. "See also: a waste of energy and effort. He might try, but he won't win." "You have to let him go." "Oh," Andrew said, as if this was news to him. "Do I?" "You'll lose him if you don't," Neil said. "He'll keep pushing Katelyn away if you tell him to, but he'll resent you for it. He'll count down the days until graduation and when it comes you'll never see him again. You're not stupid. I know you can see it. Let him go now if you ever want him to come back." "Who asked you?" "You didn't have to. I'm volunteering my opinion." "Don't," Andrew advised him. "Children should be seen and not heard." "Don't dismiss me for lying to you then ignore me when I tell the truth." "This is not truth," Andrew said. "Truth is irrefutable and untainted by bias. Sunrise, Abram, death: these are truths. You cannot judge a problem with your obsession goggles on and call it truth. You aren't fooling either of us." "If you ask for half the truth, you'll only get half the truth," Neil said. "It's your fault if you don't like the answers I give you, not mine. But as long as we're talking about obsession and Aaron's life, what are you going to do about his trial? She's going to be here for it, isn't she? Cass, I mean," Neil said, though he was sure Andrew knew who he was talking about. "You're going to have to face her." "Seen and not heard," Andrew reminded him. He sounded bored, but Neil knew a warning when heard one. Neil let it slide and went back inside.

Art used with permission by ouijacine. Thank you @ouijacine.

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irislunace · 1 month ago

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I Love Us

Honestly, I'm so, so very glad AvA is the first fandom I've actually been an active participant in.

LONG RANT INCOMING

Throughout the years, I have "been in fandoms", but I never felt like posting my own art or works, commenting on vids (i didn't have a youtube account back then, still don't), or being anything other than a silent observer.

Back in March, when I came home from that math competition, and found AvMath in my recommendeds, and just clicked on it, I did not expect to get dragged into a fandom about stick figures, of all things. I remember watching AvPhysics directly after, then finding "Wanted", and watching it with no context. I remember going to the wiki, seeing all of the content that was made, and and binging AvM and the actual shorts and literally everything else.

And most of all, I remember thinking, "I wish I could just erase all of this from my mind and experience the magic all over again."

In May, I took a chance and went to Ao3. I knew it was a site to post fanfiction, but it had never been something I was interested in. But I was just curious, to see if fanfiction about this amazing fandom really existed. I didn't have an account, no; I think I just wanted to see.

There were about 1600-1700 fics on there about AvA, during that time. I didn't know how hits worked or kudos worked, but I just remember scrolling down until I could find something that looked like a lot of people had liked it.

And even then, I clearly remember the first fic I touched. "Identity", by LeenaFreeBird (I'll link it at the bottom). I absolutely loved it. I spent the rest of the month simply reading, and consuming all of the cool hcs, learning what fan terms meant, having an idea for my own fic that I thought, back then, I could never write.

Because I didn't.

I never made an account or wrote. I never left comments because part of me though people without an account wouldn't be able to, and that was just habit, at this point.

And even though I stepped slightly away from there in the months of June and July (we were in the process of moving halfway across the country, I had just watched the new Demon Slayer season, and upon recommendation had binged all of Haikyuu in a week), I always made sure to keep updated on whatever new AvA/M videos had been posted.

In August, I went back on Ao3.

SO MANY AMAZING FICS HAD BEEN WRITTEN IN THE SPAN I WAS AWAY.

I remember binging all of them for the month. I sat alone at lunch (as I was new I didn't have any friends), just reading them on my phone and getting sucked back into there.

In September AvI began. On a whim I logged back into my tumblr account that I had made like 5 years ago in 4th grade to post random rambling stuff about my life (I tagged nothing but my username wth), and redid my entire blog. I was sooo happy when one of my posts reached 100 notes.

I felt way stronger, and way braver. I joined the invite queue for Ao3, because I decided I DID want an account, and I DID want to post my own fics.

And everyone was (and is) SO NICE about it. They love my fics and posts (which I still consider really crappy, btw) to pieces, and always give me good comments. Even my bad fanart (another thing I got the courage to post during this time). Shipping wars never happen here (if they did, I wouldn't know about it). Rarepairs are appreciated, and we unanimously know the ships that should be completely illegal (not naming ship names here).

Everything and everyone is loved, and this is like the one little corner of the Internet where mostly all is safe and your opinion is valued. Sure, your fan theory may be wrong, but people here don't go and tell you "that's so stupid lol, no way that's true". They'll give you actual feedback, explain the evidence that falsifies it, or add to it because they like it.

Even on YouTube, if someone posts a yellue ship video, for example, they'll get hate, or "the color quad are just siblings lol", or "they r stickmen why are u shipping them". If someone HCs Blue as a girl (ik that's been debunked where we are at rn), they'll get a comment saying "it's stickman for a reason".

Like, let people have their opinions. Alan has never confirmed the color quad as siblings, or their origin story. I know he has said that he would like to avoid romance by not making female characters, but it's not like the people who ship yellue or grapeduo barge up to his door and demand he makes it canon. They're just peaceful, and everything that you're saying is fanon. For all we know, four different animators could have collabed on the sticksfight website and each animated a different character (not saying that's true, but we don't know).

And even with hollowhead pairs. Alan created them, yes, but how does Creator transfer to father in this scenario? We don't know, because he hasn't confirmed the hollowheads as siblings either. They still get hate on YouTube.

But Tumblr just loves everyone. The AvA community, for example, will always make you feel like you posted something good. They lift you up, not put you down. They appreciate your headcanons because it provides a new way of looking at things.

They appreciate you.

I feel so much better about putting myself out there, and I know I will do so more in the future. I now cannot comprehend how someone can see all of this content and think "they are just stick figures". No they aren't. They are stick figures with trauma, feelings, pain, heroic qualities, fatal flaws.

You, tumblr, makes me feel this way.

Thank you so much.

(I did not expect to rant about my entire journey when I was supposed to be talking about how amazing the AvA tumblr fandom is, but now that I have I'll just keep it. Here's the fic I was talking about)

#animator vs animation #my journey #first actual fandom #animation vs minecraft #irislunace #ava blue (mentioned once)#rant post

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therealcocoshady · 5 months ago

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Recovery - Chapter 39

Synopsis : Simon comes over for dinner and Reader makes a mistake.

Tags : angst

Author's Note : I want to take a second to thank my dear @shady-577 who has the role of Very Important Reader ❤️. I usually run my ideas by her and she kindly reads my stuff ! Thank you so much ❤️

Y/N’s POV

Your friends made you delete the social media apps from your phone, for your own good. In hindsight, you were grateful, because seeing everyone comment and bring back your photos was doing a number on your mental health. Another thing you were grateful for was the presence of everyone who took the time to check in with you. Everyone around you made sure to show their support, even Marshall’s close friends and his family. When they first called or visited, you half expected them to encourage you to talk to him and patch things up but they didn’t. Porter even suggested that you let him bask in it for a couple of days. They were truly disgusted by the track and it made you feel a little better. It didn’t really change anything - what was done was done - but at least you felt valid in your feelings.

The incident even prompted an unexpected reunion with none other than… Simon. Since the whole thing had gone viral, you weren’t surprised that he heard about it but you did not really expect him to call you. However, he did and he was really sweet. He showed support and even sent you a big bouquet of peonies to cheer you up, as soon as he learned that you were staying at Talia and Jamal’s. In fact, he called you practically everyday and made sure to get your mind off things. Every time you mentioned the incident, he encouraged you « not to think about it » and you had conversations about everything else. Back when you were first dating, you were impressed by the fact that he was very well-read, knowledgeable on a lot of topics. You spent at least an hour on the phone everyday, discussing politics, art, movies… what you enjoyed the most, though, was his humor and the fact that, even after all this time, you had a couple of inside jokes left. Talia saw what a breath of fresh air it was for you, and decided to extend a dinner invitation to him. She thought it would be good for you to socialize with someone you knew, that wasn’t a close friend or acquaintance of Marshall. Jamal wasn’t too keen on the idea, though. He had made his opinion of Simon quite clear in the past, and didn’t care for the way your ex had treated you, especially after the miscarriage. That being said, his fiancée didn’t give him too much of a choice on the matter and he ended up agreeing that, at least, it would be good to see you smile.

When you brought it up to Marshall over the phone, you could tell he wasn’t too happy. However, he was in no position to tell you who to hang out with, after what he had put you through.

Simon… Your ex, Simon ?! He asked.

My friend Simon, you said in an annoyed tone. He’s been cheering me up.

Ok, he sighed. So… when can I see you ? We need to talk.

I don’t know, you replied. I think we should talk but… I don’t think I want to see you.

There’s stuff I need you to see, he said. So that you… I don’t want to say you’ll understand but, yeah, i guess it’ll provide context.

I guess I’m intrigued, you admitted.

So… can I come and give it to you ? He asked tentatively.

I don’t think it’s safe for you to come, you said. If Talia sees you, she will lose her shit. So will Jamal. Can’t you just… e-mail it to me ?

I guess I can send it over, he said. Y/N, I… I miss you. So much. The cat misses you. Please come home. I need to see you. I need to talk to you, to-

It’ll depend on what you send, I guess, you cut him. I have to go. I have to get ready for dinner. Tell Wiz I love him.

Sure, he mumbled.

And hum… thanks for the public apology, I guess.

You hung up the phone before he could respond. At first, you had been willing to call him but as soon as you heard his tone, his ever so apologetic voice… you were back to feeling angry. He was the one who had betrayed you and you were not about to give in to his own pain. You missed him, though. In fact, every night, you cried yourself to sleep and hated yourself for wishing he was by your side. But you were even angrier at him for what he had done. You knew he would hate the idea of you having dinner with Simon. And perhaps, on some level, it was exactly why you had been so quick to accept, when Talia suggested to have him come over. After all, Simon had been here for you this week. He had been the one to make you smile, laugh and regain a sense of self. He was the one who did what any loving boyfriend should have done.

Dinner with Simon was fun. So much so that even Jamal laughed at his jokes and engaged in the conversation, in spite of his initial reluctance. No one spoke of the track that mentioned you, or pronounced Marshall’s name. It was just the four of you, talking about anything and everything, just like it had been, years ago. Talia and Jamal were your friends but they had always gotten along with Simon, for the most part, and you all shared some fun memories of your days in university. After dinner, Simon suggested the two of you go for a walk, after learning that you hadn’t really been out since the track leaked.

I don’t feel like being the laughingstock of the neighborhood, you pointed out.

It’s 9PM, there’s barely anyone out, he replied. And as long as you care about it, you’re not winning.

I guess we can go out, you sighed.

Talia seemed elated that you would finally go out. You went for a walk in some remote part of the neighborhood that had a small trail where people could go on walks. During the day, it was full of people who jogged or families with strollers. But at this time of the night, there was no one in sight. You walked in relative silence when Simon finally spoke.

I had a lovely evening, he commented. Talia’s cooking is even better than I remember.

She is quite skilled, you agreed. I had a great time too. Thank you for coming. And thank you again for reaching out.

You don’t deserve what you’re going through, he said. You deserve the world. Nothing less.

I doubt it, you sighed. I must have done something awful. If not in this life, a previous one.

No one deserves what he did to you, Simon insisted. You deserve love, respect, safety…

That’s what he gave me, you know ? You rambled. When I met him, after you broke up with me… Marshall became my safe space. He made me feel loved, seen, appreciated. He is the one who helped me overcome addiction… I thought I had found a good man.

You deserve to find one, he commented. You know… not a day goes by without me regretting what I’ve done to you. I should have been your safe space. I often wonder where we’d be if I had been there for you. If I had given you what you needed after you lost our baby…

Married with a kid on the way, perhaps ? You wondered aloud.

Boy or girl ? He asked.

A girl, I guess, you shrugged. I always wanted a little girl. And to call her…

… Emma, he recalled.

You remember ? You asked in surprise.

Of course I do, Simon said. I remember everything. You are impossible to forget. I’ve been on dates with ladies but none of them compare to you. No one ever will. I know that now.

Don’t say that, you said softly.

No, it’s true, he said. No one is as funny as you. No one is as smart, as caring, as loving as you are. That’s why I can’t find anyone else. And that’s why I can’t stand to know he hurt you like this. I’m fine with the idea of you being with another man, but knowing that he is not worthy of you… it’s driving me crazy. I want to beat him up.

You don’t have to defend my honor, you know ?

I know, he said. I guess I just… I wish to give you what you need. What you deserve.

That’s nice, you said shyly. Thank you, Simon. But I don’t think you could.

What do you need ? He asked as he looked at you.

I want to feel like myself again, you explained as you looked down. I want to feel loved and seen. But now… I feel dirty and ashamed.

Simon stopped walking and cupped your cheek, before coaxing your chin so that you’d look him in the eyes. His thumb stroked your cheek and you felt an oddly at peace. He was staring at you with an affectionate gaze.

You have nothing to be ashamed of, he said. And I’m here if you need anything.

Thank you, you whispered underneath your breath.

You stared at each other for a split second and you pressed your lips to his. Half of you hoped he would push you away and the other one hoped he would kiss you back. He did the latter, giving it his all. His lips were soft against yours and, for a split second, you didn’t feel as unworthy, as dirty or as ashamed. You could feel his affection for you, his desire, even. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his tongue found yours, the kiss growing passionate. It had been two years since the two of you last shared a kiss but you felt safe. It was comfortable, familiar. After your mouths parted ways, he grabbed your hand and looked at you.

I should walk you home, he said.

I’m sorry, you replied. I-I shouldn’t have…

I’m happy you kissed me, Y/N, he clarified. But something tells me that what you need is a friend, right now.

That’s right, you said. I’m mortified, Simon, really… that was wrong. I’m… with Marshall.

You are, he agreed. For now.

Yes, you said breathlessly.

You weren’t too sure of what you wanted. Ten seconds ago, you had wanted to kiss Simon. You wished you could play dumb and say it was an accident but it wasn’t. You had initiated this kiss. You had asked for it. Simon walked you home in relative silence and you were almost mortified. As minutes went by, you absolutely regretted kissing him. Because, regardless of how good and familiar it had felt, it was still cheating. And no matter how mad at Marshall you were, cheating on him broke your heart. Maybe somewhere deep down, you hoped that kissing your ex would erase your feelings for your boyfriend and that you wouldn’t see Marshall as the love of your life anymore. But this didn’t have the desired effect and it only felt more wrong. Once you reached the front door of Talia and Jamal’s house, he kissed your cheek and promised to call you soon on Talia’s phone. It was the only way people could reach you since you’d had the excellent idea of throwing your phone in the staircase after reading one more headline about Marshall’s track.

When you walked inside the house, your friends were waiting for you in the living room, with a big box sitting on top of the coffee table.

What’s that ? You asked.

It was delivered while you were gone, Talia explained. Marshall’s security dropped it off.

He… Sent my stuff ? You asked anxiously.

No idea, Jamal said. Might very well be yet another bouquet… As if the whole house wasn’t full of them already…

You anxiously opened the box. You expected to find your stuff, thinking that maybe he had interpreted your silence as a breakup. But instead, you found a bunch of CDs and stacks of paper, as well as an envelope that read « Open this before the rest. ». Inside, you found a letter, in Marshall’s perfect handwriting :

« Dear Y/N,

I sent over the stuff I wanted to show you. I figures that maybe it would be better if you got to go through it alone. In this box, you will find everything I have ever written about you since we met, as well as some letters I never sent while we were apart. I know it doesn’t change what happened with the track that leaked but I hope this will show you that you are always on my mind, always have been. When I wrote and recorded that silly track, I was sure you were going to leave and what you heard is my me venting on the microphone, letting my mid go to the darkest places, not because I actually think or mean everything but because it’s how I blow off steam. I know it doesn’t make the lyrics any more acceptable, but this is just me, being unable to get you off my mind for one second and trying to deal with it as best as I can. I never planned on you, nor anyone, hearing any of it. I realize this is not a healthy way to deal with my feelings, and I promise I’m never doing this again. Anyway, here is everything : things I wrote, stuff I recorded… I’m here if you want to talk about it.

I’m sorry I hurt you, more than you’ll ever know. I miss you. (Wiz misses you too).

Please come home.

I love you,

Marshall »

You sighed nervously and handed the letter to Talia, so that she could read it. Once she was done, she handed it to Jamal. After everyone was done reading the letter, you agreed that you should have a look to the content of the box. Your friends offered to give you some space but you were feeling a little overwhelmed. It was painfully obvious that your boyfriend was trying his best to make things bette with you and you had just repaid him by kissing your ex. You spent about three hours looking at every item the box contained. You got to read some letters Marshall had written to you while you were in France, that had your address on the envelope but he never sent them. I here, he was telling you about how much he missed you, how gloomy life was without you and how badly he wanted you to be happy, even if it meant that he would have to stay away from you. He also mentioned a couple of trips he had taken, mainly to California for some work, and how he wished he could have taken you on his travels. People, including himself, had told you how miserable he was while you were apart, but to read what he wrote during that time was gut-wrenching. There were so many writings that it was clear that you had not left his mind for a minute. Some of them even dated back to when you were dating Josh ! You were in tears by the time you were done reading the letters but the worst was yet to come. You listened to the CDs, that were full of tracks you never knew about. They were all about you and you could clearly see the pain in Marshall’s voice. By the time you were done listening, you were bawling like a baby.

Are you ok, Sis ? Jamal asked.

I… Guys, I… I don’t know, you hiccuped.

Come here, babe, Talia said as he took you in her arms.

You should call him, Jamal said. You guys need to talk.

You looked at him, taken aback. In the past days, Jamal had not exactly been secretive regarding the disdain he had for Marshall, and you definitely did not expect him to encourage you to patch things up with him. What you read and heard definitely made you want to see him and talk to him face to face, but you knowing what you had done earlier in the night made you sick. You couldn’t face him and tell him you had cheated on him. Not when you knew he had spent months writing the most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking things about his love for you, how being without you was a fate worse than death.

I don’t know, you said in a croaky voice.

Baby, I know we’re still mad at him, Talia said. But… You’ve heard these songs, right ? You’ve read these letters… Shit, I’m crying too !

She’s right, Jamal said. He loves you. He’s an obsessive fucking moron but… It’s Em. And I know you love him.

I thought you were mad at him, you pointed out.

I am, he said. But he sent me an email to apologize, as well as a check. He’s stupid but he’s trying to make things right. You have to give him a little credit, Sis. And I know that you guys have been through a lot and I’m sure you can work things out.

His last sentence has you burst in tears. After reading and listening to everything, you wanted nothing more than to « work things out », but you were afraid that you had ruined everything. How ironic. He was the one whose actions had led to you leaving the house but he would be the one breaking up with you because you were too dumb. Tears were streaming down your cheeks and you were crying so much that it made it difficult to breathe. It wasn’t just guilt or sadness, it was panic, as you realized you would have to tell Marshall what happened with Simon.

Baby, what’s wrong ? Talia asked as she stroked your back.

I… I fucked up, guys, you said.

What ? No ! Jamal said. What he did with that track sucked, you had every reason to leave for a few days !

No, it’s not that, you hiccuped. I-I… I kissed Simon…

NO YOU DIDN’T ?! Talia almost screamed.

You were virtually unable to stop crying, to the point where you were unable to form a coherent sentence and ended up hyperventilating. It felt like you had the weight of the world on top of you. Talia took you in her arms and tried to get you to calm down but you were having a full blown panic attack. You heard her talk to Jamal but, even though you could hear the words, they weren’t making much sense. You were trying to talk but only French words would come out of your mouth.

Il va me quitter, you cried. Je l’ai trahi… Oh mon Dieu. J’ai trahi Marshall !

What…? Jamal asked confused.

She’s having a meltdown, Talia sighed. We can’t leave her like this, babe !

What do we do, then ?

Let’s call Em, she directed.

Non ! You pleaded. Please… Non.

Talia took your hands in hers and tried to reason with you. In her opinion, it was better for you to tell Marshall and have an actual conversation with him, about both the track and you kissing Josh.

I fucked up, you cried. Oh my God. I fucked up.

Look, Sis, Jamal said sheepishly. Cheating sucks, and I’m not going to say Em deserved it. But… You know. You probably wouldn’t have done it if things had bee alright in your relationship.

True, your best friend chimed in. You were feeling betrayed and vulnerable.

He’s going to kill me, you sighed.

He’s not, Jamal said. Look, I already texted him. He should be here in about 20 minutes. We’ll let you guys talk but we’ll be right next door, in the kitchen, alright ? No matter how mad he is, I swear, you’ll be alright.

But… I’ll have to move, I-

If he kicks you out, you’ll just move back in with us, babe, Talia said reassuringly. We got you. Always.

You thanked them and tried to pace yourself by taking deep breaths. It was the middle of the night but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone. Twenty minutes later, Marshall was here. As soon as he spotted you, curled on the living room couch, reading one of his letters, he rushed to your side.

Y/N, he said.

Hi, you said as you tried to avoid his gaze.

Have you… Been crying ? He asked as he took a look at your face ?

You nodded sheepishly. Your stomach was in knots and you felt as if you were about to throw up. He was inches away from you, looking at you intently. You nervously glanced at him and it was safe to say that he looked absolutely terrible. From the looks of it, he had been missing on a lot of sleep. His face looked gaunt and had worry all over it.

Is it the letters ? He asked. God, I didn’t mean to make you cry… I-I…

They’re beautiful, you said in a creaky voice. A lot to take in. But beautiful.

And I meant every word, he assured you. These letters, these songs… that’s how I really feel about you. How I have always felt about you. Not that stupid leaked track.

Yeah ? You asked.

Swear to God, he said. That’s just… My mind goes to this dark place, sometimes, you know ? When I’m sad, when I’m hurt… I know it’s creepy as fuck, and I know it’s not… It’s not ok. I know it. But I swear, this is just fiction. No different than a book or some drawings, you know ? But it has nothing to do with you. It’s my feelings, my dark thoughts… None of it should matter.

But you name-dropped me, you pointed out.

I shouldn’t have, he said. That was fucking wrong of me. I thought no one would ever hear it. It’s just… that’s the only way I know how to get things off my chest, you know ?

You nodded. It hurt to be on the receiving end of it and to be the one who inspired such deranged lyrics but you could sort of see where he was coming from. After all, he had always resorted to music as a coping mechanism. He sat on the couch next to you and took your hand in his. The contact between you - the first in a week - almost made you shiver. He seemed to notice it and immediately placed his jacket on your shoulders.

I know it sounds easy to say but… I recorded that before I agreed to do therapy, you know ? He said tentatively. I went and told my therapist about it the other day, and… I’m going to do better, Y/N. I promise. I know I’ve hurt you, but I need you to know that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. And I want us to get through this. I’ll book more therapy sessions, I’ll work on myself, we can do couples therapy if you want… I’ll do anything for us.

Marshall, I-, you began.

Y/N… You’re the love of my life, he continued. You make me want to improve myself, put in some actual work so that we can have a future together. There’s nothing I want more than this. I need you with me. I know we can get through this. I just know it. Because it’s us.

You were overwhelmed. You had told him he was the love of your life several times before but it was the first time he said it back. Tears started rolling on your cheeks and he pulled you to his chest.

I’ll never hurt you like this again, he said. I love you, and if you still love me, we can get through anything.

Marshall, I need to tell you something…, you started nervously.

Do you love me ? He asked as he ignored your sentence.

I do, you replied. Of course I do, but-

No but, he said. I swear, I’ll do anything you want, honey. I have already gotten rid of the studio equipment but if there’s anything I can do, anything you want… I’ll do it. Just come home, and we work things through, ok ?

I need to tell you something first, you said nervously.

Ok, he said as he still held your hand. Anything, baby.

It’s�� It’s about Simon, you started with tears in your eyes.

What about him ? He asked. It’s not like you cheated, right ?

You knew he was resorting to humor to try and diffuse tension but you immediately started crying, giving everything away. You immediately saw the color drain from Marshall’s face, his eyes instantly turning dark.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #recovery fanfiction #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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canonicallyobserving911 · 1 month ago

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So... something's been bothering me since 8x1 and I know only two episodes have aired but if it doesn't get addressed before Gerrard and T.K. get the boot, I want to know what TM's reason was for bringing these problematic characters back.

Negativity about Gerrard and T*mmy under the cut!

In season 2, they were both racists and bigots but for some reason, neither of them have been called out on it. No one, literally NO ONE has said anything about what they did to Hen and Chimney and it’s really pissing me off. Their problematic pasts need to be addressed and not swept under the rug. Sure, there are 16 more episodes left in the season but the way both of them were reintroduced, it seems like it won't be mentioned by anyone.

In 8x1, Hen told Buck they did get Gerrard fired but she never explained why. Also, I'm a firm believer that the 118 TELLS EACH OTHER ALL THEIR BUSINESS and that’s a CANON fact (seasons 3, 5 and 6 are examples) but it appears they seriously want the audience to believe Buck doesn't know how T*mmy treated Hen and Chimney back then. I don’t believe that for one second especially since Buck told them everything about the first T.K. Before someone tries to come at me and say they forgave him... THEY DIDN'T! T*mmy was just the guy they tolerated until he left and went to the 217. Everyone has coworkers they say hi and bye to but won't invite them to the cookout and T*mmy is that dude. He went to the bar with them but in 3x16, Hen said they wouldn't call the people they used to work with friends. Chimney is Buck’s brother-in-law and they were like brothers way before Maddie arrived in season 2, so why hasn't he been chosen to say something to Buck about him? It's T.K. 1.0 all over again because they never reminded Buck about her either. 🙄 She literally filmed them while they were dosed in 2x6 and she was planning to air the footage but no one told him it was a bad idea to date her.

Also, Gerrard was reintroduced as a hard nose captain but the things he used to do were done in a way that made him a coward. He said things to Hen that were horrible but he would say the quiet parts out loud in a way where only she could hear him.

This may be an unpopular opinion but I want their pasts to be addressed because if they aren't then WTF are they doing?

DON'T COME INTO MY INBOX OR REBLOG THIS POST WITH AN OPPOSING OPINION BECAUSE IF ANYONE DOES, THEY’LL GET BLOCKED. I'M A PROACTIVE BLOCKER AND I DO IT BASED ON FILTERED TAGS. CREATE YOUR OWN POST ON YOUR OWN BLOG IF YOU LIKE GERRARD AND TOMMY.

#911 abc #911 on abc #911 speculation #911 spoilers #911 season 8 #911 season 8 speculation #evan buckley #hen wilson #chimney han #maddie buckley #anti tommy kinard #anti taylor kelly #anti vincent gerrard #Canonically Observing 9-1-1 Speaks #anti bucktommy

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rreeaahh · 1 year ago

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Green eyes VS green badge | R. A. B.

Second chapter of "One way ticket" | Ch. 1

pair> regulus black x lestrange! reader | > mentions of james potter x reader | > james potter x lily evans

summary> the hate between y/n and regulus is hidden from anyone else, but maybe his actions combined with a heartbreak aren't the best outcome for y/n

word count> 2.7k

warnings> regulus being a jerk, again? reader being kind of a teacher's pet? mentions of discrimination based on blood purity; nothing else, in my opinion, feel free to tell me if i should add anything!

a/n> THIS WAS WRITTEN IN ONE GO, HOLY SHIT. I DID NOT PROOFREAD IT. thank u guys for all the support showed here<3 its crazy, honestly. the tag list is open for this series, so feel free to send me an ask or a comment of you want to be added! also, i have a thought and idk, i'd make this idea more detailed but on wattpad, and keep it a little shorter here, what do you think?

There were four simple rules that Y/N needed to follow since she could talk and understand what she was being told.

The first one was that she could never, ever in her whole life disobey her father – he was the only one who cared for her, for her future, for her dignity and he was the only one who wished to see her become a strong and powerful witch; that’s what he claimed, at least.

The second one was that she was not allowed to ever question the Dark Lord’s word – her father said that Tom Riddle, his old friend, was the one who told him to keep her, to raise her and protect her as a father should. In other words, she has a dad because a bald snake-looking man said she was worth the effort.

The third one, one with a great significance, was that she should not interact with Mudbloods more than necessary – which was, in her opinion, pretty confusing, given the fact that Voldemort himself was a Half-blood. But, she could not put that problem to a question because she would break rule number one and rule number two at the same time.

The last one was simple – don’t be a disappointment, don’t ruin the family’s image.

And that’s how she lived her life until her first year at Hogwarts. That’s when she started to disobey her dad by giving up on rule number three and talk to all her colleagues – nothing more than acquaintances, though, because the other Purebloods could mock her for doing so. She learned that everyone should be treated equally, no matter the blood that was running in their veins – they were all wizards, after all. That’s a reason she got close to James Potter last year, in her fourth one. The older boy was shocked to see a Slytherin act that politely towards a first-year Muggleborn Gryffindor and jokingly asked her if she was sick. He said she was not like the others. He said she was quite nice.

They had a few other accidental meetings in the hallway, and without realizing Y/N started to get nervous around him; her heart would beat faster when she’d hear his voice in the Great Hall and her cheeks would burn when she’d wake up from another dream about him – that was her first crush ever. While at the final party of the year, where only a few Slytherins were invited – it was hosted by the Marauders, after all – Y/N was kissed by James. The party was at the end, she wanted to leave and he offered to walk her back to the Dungeons. It was the best night of her life, she finally felt seen, heard, liked. Maybe it was because of their encounters, maybe because James could see behind her social mask or maybe it was simply because of all the firewhiskey and beer, but he kissed her. He really kissed her, right at the door of the Slytherin’s common room. He grabbed her waist, cupped her cheek and even groaned against her lips when she gathered the courage to put her hands in his dark curly hair. He smiled at her and wished her a great summer, and then walked off backwards, still watching her.

That’s why she was excited all summer to get back at Hogwarts. That’s why she was determined to learn more about Muggleborns, to change her life and morals. That’s why she started fighting her father when he’d open the topic of marriage – James was, of course, a Pureblood, as Cyrus wished for his only child, but he was also a blood traitor. She never told her dad about him, but she wouldn’t even once let him get the idea that she was willing to marry one of his friends’ sons. They were all pricks, and she was only thinking about James.

That’s why her heart broke on the train – he wouldn’t even look at her. That’s why now, a few days after, she still looks like the train hit her. That’s what she thought, at least, because everyone else complimented her new jewelry, her hair, her nail polish, every stupid and insignificant thing. Her eyes had dark circles under them, her skin felt strange and her appetite was nowhere to be found.

“Don’t you like the porridge?” asks Evan and points to her bowl.

His sister, Pandora, gets her head out of the tarot book and scoff in disapproval. “Could you mind your business, Evan?” She should be at the Ravenclaw table, but she really likes to spent time with them.

Y/N only smiles to them and pushes away the bowl. “You can have it, Evan, I’m not that hungry,” she winks in his direction and starts writing on her parchments again.

Because that’s what she does – that’s the only way not to look at the other side of the room, at the Gryffindor table. She studies over her Potions’ notes, her first class from that day. Professor Slughorn announced another meeting of the Slug Club and her new goal was to get invited, again. There are a few girls that get to be invited to those dinners, and Y/N was one of them but Horace liked to see new faces from now and then.

“You really want to go,” mutters Bruce Mulciber, looking at her with a bored expression. Edmund Avery hits his arm in a not-that-subtle manner and smiles at her widely.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are while studying, Y/N? So smart,” the boy says and winks in her direction.

“How disgusting,” Pandora whispers at their behavior. Y/N nods her head and smiles politely to Edmund, while wishing she could slam his head to the table until she’d see blood. But that would definitely against any existing rule – both Hogwarts’ and her father’s.

She gets up and starts gathering her belongings, taking a last sip from her tea cup. “I have to go, guys. Evan, I’ll see you in Potions, right?”

“Yeah, I have to wait for Regulus, though,” he informs her and grabs her porridge bowl, smiling thankful in her way.

Y/N laughs and grabs her parchments, drinking the remaining tea in her cup. While at it, a body slams into hers and the contact makes her to drop the tea on her notes, her white shirt and her shoes. And there’s silence.

“Sorry,” says in a blank tone no one else than Regulus Black. His uniform is perfect, his hair is put in place and he even got the chance to get away from Y/N before any drop could be on him. “I didn’t see you there.”

She wants to shout. She wants to scream at him, grab her wand and curse him. She wants him to be as embarrassed as she is now, wet and watched by the entire dining hall. But she can’t. She got her father’s temper but she learned from him how to handle it. She needs to handle it.

“Regulus,” she says in a happy tone, “Evan was waiting for you,” it’s the only thing that comes out of her mouth as she looks only at him. Not at her housemates, her friends, or even over her shoulder at the boy who froze there with his friends, who are laughing at her.

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters. “Let’s go, Rosier,” he demands in a now friendly voice. “Horace is waiting in the classroom; he probably wants to talk about the Slug Club.”

That’s when Y/N forgets about everything and in the silence of her mind there is only Regulus’ voice. He probably wants to talk about the Slug Club. Still with a smile on her face, she gets her robes from the bench, wave goodbye to her friends and starts walking away. She cannot resists the temptation and looks at the Gryffindor table. He’s there, with Sirius on his left, laughing with his friends. After she leaves the Great Hall there’s a feeling of pressure on her whole body. Was he laughing of her? He could never, right? She was quite nice, after all.

Before entering the Potions class, she stood there for a few minutes, calming down. Now she’s putting on her dark robes, the silver snake shining on the green badge. As she’s buttoning it up, the steps of her colleagues echo through the dark corridor.

“There you are, Y/N,” sights Evan. He’s followed by Barty Crouch Jr and Regulus, who watches her like she’s sick with a blood curse. “You went ahead without looking back.”

“Oh, yeah, I got to make sure my robes cover the whole…” she looks only for a second at Regulus, “tea accident.” She says it while chuckling, like it was just a silly little accident which could happen to anyone. But not anyone would get away clean like he did after that kind of an accident.

“And yet you look worse than before,” Regulus speaks and his eyes points at her now clearly stained shirt. “Let’s go, boys, I’m sure Y/N knows how to dress herself,” he scoffs and smiles to her.

The other two boys follow him along and she sits there, blood boiling in her veins. Her anger is born because of two persons – her father, because he’d kill her if she was arguing with another Pureblood in public, especially Orion Black’s son, and Regulus Black, for being such and arse.

Horace Slughorn, however, didn’t seem to be that preoccupied by her entrance. He greeted her and went on with his lesson and for Merlin knows what time she finds herself thinking about Regulus, and how she’d strangle him with the tie around his neck if given the opportunity. Regulus has that power, to awake something in her that only wants to hurt him, to make him suffer and get out those cold eyes – maybe she could make a pair of earrings out of them. He was right besides her, sitting with Evan while she tried to ignore Barty’s jokes about their professor. Sometimes, she wishes so much to be away from them – she feels suffocated to be near them at school and also at home, when her father would take her with him at different events, but there’s no way that she could cross his word. You will act nice towards any pureblood kid, they are the only ones that deserve it – they are you only equals.

“That’s all for today, my dear students,” announces Slughorn and claps his hands together. “You have to write an essay about today’s lesson, in order for me to see that everything was very clear.”

She puts away her quill and ink and starts rolling the parchments that she took notes on. Barty plays drums in the wood of the table and Evan hits him behind his head with his notes. The two of them laugh and she can’t help but her Regulus’ scoff at their silly action.

“Oh, Mister Black, Miss Lestrange, could you stay for a little? I have something to tell you,” Slughorn says happily and goes over to his desk at the front of class.

“Yes, professor,” they both say and get up. They both also look at each other, eyes burning with annoyance.

“We’ll see you outside, ok?” asks Evan.

“Go on, don’t wait,” is the only answer he receives from Regulus before he goes first to Slughorn, Y/N right after him.

“Oh, my two favorite students!” the professor says as they remain alone in the classroom. “I hope the first days where excellent, kids.”

“Of course, sir,” Y/N smiles and Slughorn can’t help but lays his eyes a little longer on her, on her clothes. She was the only one that wore the robes during class.

“How are your parents, hm?” His question sits uneasy on them both. Y/N does not look at Regulus, Regulus does not look at Y/N – they both hope the other one will talk first.

And because she remembers her father’s words, she opens her mouth. “My father sends his greetings, sir. He got me a new potions book that I’ve read over the summer,” she says and accepts happily the proud nod from her professor.

“Very good, I’m pleased to hear that the vacation didn’t stop your liking for studying,” he laughs in a soft manner. “Right, Regulus? Miss Lestrange here sure is a great housemate, keeping our pride safe,” now is the Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin, that’s talking.

She sees with the corner of her eye that his body tenses. “Of course, professor,” he forces himself to say.

“Right,” Horace claps his hands together again, excited. “You two are the brightest students in my house, that’s the reason I’m sure you two will be also the brightest Prefects that Hogwarts has and will ever see!” He hands them the green badges, the word PREFECT being written on it with silver letters. “I’m sure you’ll make me very proud, children,” he says.

“You can be sure of it, sir. We’ll do our best,” Y/N smiles and looks at the metal badge from between her fingers.

“That’s all,” the professor says. “Come on, go to your business, I have another class now.”

She bites her tongue and smiles polite at him, before turning around.

“What about the Slug Club, sir?”

Regulus Black was not the most talkative person Y/N knew, but he sure was stubborn.

“Oh, Merlin, I nearly forgot! Of course, Mister Black, you and Miss Lestrange are more than welcome, I thought that’s already settled,” he said and smiled at them – Horace Slughorn wanted to make sure that the kids of two important families in the Wizarding World liked him as a teacher.

As soon as they leave the class, Regulus scoffs, the sound echoing in the corridor. “Maybe you’ll learn how to dress now that I’m forced to spend even more time with you.”

His voice is mocking, rude and teasing. Now that they’re alone, they can finally act how they really wish to. Y/N grabs the wand from her robes’ pocket and points it at Regulus, who’s now pressed against the stone wall and grins at her.

“If you ever try to outsmart me again, Black, I swear I’m gonna Crucio you,” she spats the words in his face and only for a second Regulus’ face drops, his eyes looking at the tip of the wand before returning at her face.

“Only if you’d be capable of doing something like that, you pathetic try of a witch,” he says and grabs her wand, pushing it away from his face.

“You really have a death wish?” she asks annoyed by his eyes that watch her with superiority, his curved lips that laugh at her.

“Careful, Y/N, you wouldn’t want you-know-who to find out what a brave and cruel witch you are, right? He may like it,” he laughs and walks away from her, leaving her alone at the door of the Potions’ class.

For a moment, she’s alone. And there’s silence. She looks at the green badge in her hand and exhales all the air in her lungs. And then, there’s laughter. And there’re steps which walk in her direction, and she wants to leave but she freezes pressed against the wall, right where Regulus was only a moment ago.

James Potter is walking beside a ginger girl; tall and beautiful and dressed in a red uniform, matching his. He makes her laugh as she’s playfully hitting his arm, telling him to stop. Y/N just stays there, and James doesn’t even seem to notice her. But the girl does – Y/N recognizes her as Lily Evans, the Muggleborn girl in James’ year. Lily’s green eyes watch Y/N as she sits there, badge in her hand, and the older witch smiles at her. She ignores James for a moment, giving Y/N a thumbs-up before pointing to her red badge, which had written HEADGIRL on it.

As they enter the room, Y/N starts walking away. She feels sad, maybe, heartbroken, even. She’s not sure. But she’s sure that she’s furious, angry, mad. Her father was right. Mudbloods and blood traitors deserve nothing.

And that’s only because James Potter picked the green eyes over the green badge.

#slytherin #angst #hogwarts #smut #regulus black #regulus x reader #slytherin reader #the black family #x reader #one way ticket #lestrange reader #james potter x reader #james potter x lily evans #the marauders #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 year ago

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👑The girl in the silver dress👑New version (Prt 3) (prt 1 here) (Prt 2 here)

Aemond x reader

Tags: Fluffish, royalty, modernroyalty, theselection

Cool devider credits: firefly graphics

🔷Summary: You are invited to become a selected girl for Prince Jacaerys's selection. You never thought you would fall for his uncle, prince Aemond instead.

🔷Author's note: Based on the books by Kiera Cass, but reading them is not required.

🔷Wordcount :3464

🔷Warnings: Non apply

TAGLIST: @connorsui @lportes-22 @thisaccountisrandomsstuff @nikkitc0703 @lijeno

Months have passed since the ball. Yet you still can feel your heart be ripped in two. Aemond has not bothered to come back for you, believing he is somehow doing you a favor by staying away. You wonder if he is doing alright. You should be furious, angry, perhaps take revenge and sleep with other men but….

Part of you knows Aemond too well to even do that. He genuinely believed he did the right thing. The good thing, by leaving and setting you free, so you could become the Queen. But what is a crown over true love? How can you rule over countless people if it is not the man of your dreams by your side, making the horrible choices so worth it, just because you’ll make that choice together? What is the future if you can’t spend it by his side? What is a golden cage if you can live with him in freedom? And why would you care about being Queen, when you could just be the woman he loves?

Tonight, you all will be interviewed by the press, a common occurrence so the people of Westeros will know you a bit better, perhaps you’ll become someone’s favorite.

Your make-up team works on your eyeliner, black with silver small tiny glitters. They put gloss on your lips and put your hair up, so the silver necklace around your neck speaks volumes. Baela is already done with her dress, and has taken time to chat with you about Aemond. She has become a close friend of yours in the past months, together with Dyana. You form an alliance with both, against Floris and even Queen Alicent. ‘’He loved me, he said so in his letter.’’ You tell Baela when she asks if Aemond wasn’t playing a fucked up little game. ‘’I’ve seen the man behind the mask when I am near him, Baela. It can’t have been a act.’’

Floris approaches in her black swan feather dress, glancing down at you with great enjoyment of your misery. ‘’Well, Queen Alicent has already said Aemond won’t be coming back from Dorne anytime soon. So, have fun being depressed and disappointed.’’ Alicent likely told Floris that in confidence but Floris takes any chance to make you feel miserable.

Dyana wears a gorgeous red gown and approaches Floris rapidly. She puts her hands on her hips and you and Baela know Dyana has had it with Floris. ‘’Just like your father was when you came in-'’ You see Baela gasp when Dyana opens her mouth, and the last 15 remaining girls listen with their breaths hold in. But you speak up, forcing her to remain calm, grabbing her hand and dragging her back before she can claw out Dyana’s eye.

‘’Don’t stoop to her level, Dy. She is not worth our anger or energy. She craves attention, so she seeks it.’’ Dy nods, before moving back to her chair. Floris scoffs at you three before she and her minions let the tv crew know they are ready.

After watching the other girls excel with their questions, the same questions time after time, you think you are prepared for whatever they may throw at you. You sit down in the comfortable chair, your legs crossed.

The first question is about your first meeting with the prince. The interviewer smiles, but her eyes tell books. ‘’Everyone knows you are a common-born girl. Do you think the reason you are still here is because of favoritism?’’ You first gawk at her, attacked and offended. Until you see the chance to clap back. And you will.

You speak from your heart but you can’t ignore the sting as if you betray Aemond. ‘’Frankly, I believe Prince Jacaerys is quite taken with me, and his opinion matters more than what a small crowd chooses to say about me.’’

Her eyebrows rise and this time she is the one who lost her tongue, clearly fumbling over cards to find a good other hostile question. ‘’Do you think you would make a good queen? How would someone as commonborn as you even lead the country?’’

A fair jab, but you are done playing fair. You will come at her with everything you got. ‘’I think us commoners know more about the country than the nobility ever will. We are the ants, carrying the crown. I hope to make life better for all civilians of the Seven Kingdoms, not just the commoners or the nobility. I hope to be a ruler. Not a decoration on a shelf.’’

The woman is seething with rage at your composed sweet answers. ‘’That was my final question.’’ You blink innocently and surprised.

‘’Was it? You seem to have forgotten to ask me the questions you asked all the other girls. Perhaps you need a break.’’ You suggest, sweetly. A few chuckles erupt among the selected.

The interviewer is removed by Lady Aemma before getting a firm talking to off screen. You stand up from the chair and sigh deeply. That went as horrible as could be. The only thing that would have made it worse would be questions about Aemond. You saw her cards, they were on there. Yet she kept from asking. Odd. And someone is working on getting you removed, someone very high up.

The next major event is the Halloween masquerade. Only 10 girls remain, including you. Jacaerys has been nothing but kind to you, treating you as a true lady whenever you are around him. Floris and four other girls are now under Alicent’s wing. You used to be jealous that she had selected clear favorites. Yet none of that matters. Jacaerys has only eyes for you.

Prince Jacaerys dances with you, under the great chandelier. All those months practicing with the waltzes and dances have finally paid off as you smoothly follow his movements as if you are two body pieces belonging to one soul.

But alas, despite him having you made his favorite, you remain a pawn in a game. And a game has rules, no matter how unfair. Jacaerys ends the dance with a respectful bow before moving to Lady Baela, a sweet kind girl you’ve come to know very well.

You take a glass of champagne, before sitting down on a chair, lost in thought. You’ve been here for months. You miss Aemond, of course you do.

At some point you lost track of Baela and Jace. They must be getting more champagne. A servant loyal to Jacaerys whispers in your ear that you must come to the library. The prince has a surprise for you.

You enter the library not much later. A masked figure stands with his back to you, a black hood covering his hair. ‘’Jace?’’ You ask, before approaching him. Jace does not answer you, instead he grabs you by your hips and drags your body closer until you both collide. Your chin is grabbed and he kisses you fiercely before exhaling deeply, sniffing the perfume on your skin.

This is improper. You must stop this. Jacaerys and you are not married, this is the selection. This is not fair to the others.

You gasp, as you remove the mask and look into blue eyes, not brown ones. Aemond silently brings his fingers to your lips before slowly bringing his face back to yours. The worst part is, you let him. You welcome him. Your lips find his soft pink lips, gently moving against his lips until the movements become rough as if he is trying to hurt you. ‘’Y/n,’’ he murmurs against your lips, leaving kisses on your skin. ‘’I’m sorry. I honor the traditions, normally. But I can’t stay away from you.’’ He mutters. You kiss his lips again.

But you look into his eyes. ‘’We’ll make our own traditions.’’ You promise him, hot tears running down your cheeks of pure joy. He kisses you again, much slower and softer as if he wants to savor every moment of this. Aemond murmurs against your lips and you become lost in the passion and the love you feel for one another. You tug at his tie but he shakes his head, before leaning in and whispering in your ear. ‘’I don’t want you to become a secret, or a scandal. I will ask my nephew, and my father for permission.’’ He searches in his pocket for a small rock shaped box and opens the lid, before sinking to one knee and grabbing your hand. Lady Aemma enters the room, holding a smartphone so she can film this wonderful moment as tears sting your eyes.

He is proposing. He is asking you to become his wife. ‘’Lady Y/n, queen of my heart, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, my equal, and may I bring you under my protection?’’ A small ring with gold and a clear sapphire smiles at you, and you see dreams and hopes in Aemond’s eyes.

You smile. You wait for him to stand, and nearly slam the ring out of his hands before you kiss him again. ‘’Yes, yes, a dozens times yes.’’

Aemond grins, picking you up from the ground, spinning you around when kissing you. Lady Aemma makes herself known again, gently clearing her throat, but her eyes are misty with tears. ‘’I’m afraid there is a matter of permission. A royal marriage can only exist with the blessing of the king.’

The king has been feeling ill lately. He has taken to bed and refuses to leave for anyone. Queen Alicent rules in his stead, as a faithful wife would. You and Aemond rush past ladies, princes, nobles and paparazzi, hand in hand, clearly smitten as your feet go as fast as you can go. Paparazzi quickly turn their camera’s to you both, but all they get is a messy blurry picture, that is how fast you both are walking. Finally, you reach the rooms of the king.

Queen Alicent sits by his bedside, faithfully reading him the newspaper. She turns around when she sees you both, and you drop into a curtsy. ‘’What are you both doing here?’’ She asks.

Aemond clears his throat, before sitting down on his father’s bed. ‘’Father, I’m sorry. I know you told me I should always follow duty, and that the crown requires sacrifice.’’ He did? King Viserys avoids your eyes and you understand he was behind Aemond’s sudden departure. You cross your arms over your chest.

‘’I did.’’ The king confesses, a bit grumpy.

Aemond gestures for you to come closer, so you do. He takes hold of your hands. ‘’But my path to duty led me to Y/N. She makes me feel things I never felt before. She is the love of my life, Father. I know you both sent me away to Dorne to forget her, but I know by now: No one will ever compare or come close to her. She is all I ever wanted, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. If I have to give up my titles, so be it.’’ He declares, firmly.

Viserys coughs, before smiling at you both. ‘’Aemond, come here my boy. I know I've been a horrible father to you and my other children.’’ You look away, not sure you were meant to hear this.

‘’Yes.’’ Aemond says, agreeing without missing a beat.

Viserys looks at you. ‘’But I'm going to ask you this once, my boy. Do you love that girl?’’ Your heart beats faster and faster and you are afraid it might stop.

Aemond looks at you when speaking, nodding. ‘’I feel alive when she is with me. Like everything is possible and she makes me whole in ways I used to be broken.’’ Viserys nods.

‘’Then who am I to deny you both? Go, be happy, my boy. You always have been meant for it.’’ Aemond nods, pretending to not tear up, but even you have teary eyes watching this reunion.

This is nice, but there is one other obstacle. Jacaerys. You belonged to his selection. To go with another man is treason. ‘’Jace, of course, I will ask-’’ Aemond is interrupted as the doors open and Jace himself enters with Lady Aemma close behind.

Jacaerys holds up his hands, silencing Aemond. ‘’You don’t have to, Aemond.’’ He turns to the king before speaking. ’I've seen it for myself, Grandsire. Y/n and Aemond are two parts of one soul. We must not keep them separated. They belong to one another.’’

Alicent looks concerned. ‘’But what will the media say?’’ She is right. They have not been kind to you.

Viserys grins. ‘’They can say whatever they like. Y/n will become Aemond's wife, a princess of house Targaryen. They will learn to mind their tongues over time.’’ You hope so, at least.

Aemond turns to his mother. ‘’Do I have both your blessings? May we marry?’’ He asks, hopeful.

Alicent looks you over, and you wonder how much she secretly hates you. She smiles, before touching her son’s forehead, kissing it. ‘’Your happiness is all that I ever wanted for you, Aemond. Go find it with your wife.’’ And just like that, a nightmare ends and a dream is born. Aemond kisses your lips, not giving a damn about the audience that is present.

The first moment with the press is there, the engagement photoshoot. Of course you are afraid, but Aemond makes it all worth it. He is still a bit stiff when it comes to press and attention but you bring out his true wonderful self. You and Prince Aemond hold hands in front of the castle, as multiple press magazines, news channels and photographers from all over the world take in this wonderful moment.

‘’Prince Aemond! "Please look here!"

‘’Duchess Y/n! Is it true you and Prince Aemond bonded over your love for Dornish architecture?"

‘’Yes. We are big nerds."

‘’O, that was improper of me wasn't it?’’ You mutter as the press eagerly writes things down.

Aemond shrugs before whispering in your ear. ‘’You're doing just fine. We kinda are big nerds.’’

You return the smile, taking hold of his face before kissing him. ‘’The biggest.’’ You declare before kissing him. The flashes go crazy the moment your lips lock, and all photographers shut up, taking millions of pictures.

Aemond breaks the kiss, grinning at the press when you blush lost in the moment. ‘’Prince Aemond, what was your first thought when you saw her lady?"

Aemond thinks back and you see many emotions cross his face. ‘’Why don't good things ever happen to me? And it's ironic because…she would become the best thing In my life.’’

One photographer clearly adores that and makes a little strangled ‘’awh’’ sound, causing their colleague to smack them lightly on the arm. ‘’What? They are adorable!’’ He declares, simply before returning to making photos.

You glance at Aemond. ‘’I am simply speaking my truth.’’ He says as if he’s defending himself.

You grin. ‘’Hmhm.’’

An interviewer of the Targaryen times finally asks a question, having worked up the courage. ‘’Princess-I mean, Duchess…’’ She stumbles and blushes, embarrassed as she looks through her notes nervously.

Aemond smiles, reassuringly. ‘’Princess is fine, Ma’am. She must adjust to her new title somehow.’’ Finally she lets go of her cards, and becomes much more confident because of it.

‘’Princess Y/N. What are the plans for the wedding?’’ Aemond grins, turning his head to you as if he wants to hear it as well.

You smile, painting a picture. ‘’A grand one, in the sept, honoring ancient Targaryen traditions. But also a couple of new ones.’’ You for example would love for Vhagar, Aemond’s cat to wear the rings down the aisle or for your wedding dress to be silver. And so, that happened. 25 october, you and Aemond said your vows for dozens of people to see. And after that, came the honeymoon.

You finally stand before the statue of Nymeria, the statue you dreamed of seeing since you were old enough to want anything. Aemond is with you, together with your security, hidden and dressed as ordinary tourists. You look at Nymeria’s statue, at a loss for words, that's how beautiful you find it all.

‘’I can't believe you took me here.’’ You tell Aemond, searching for his hand to hold as tears of happiness roll down your cheeks.

He gently wipes them away. ‘’I can. You always wanted to see it. And now we can.’’ He tells you, with a smile and a kiss on your lips. ‘’This does mean that you need a new dream, I’m afraid.’’ He jests but you turn his face back to your own.

‘’I don’t need a new dream. You are my new dream.’’

Next year, you all come together for christmas. You and Aemond have brought gifts. The family sits still in gowns and suits, as royals are expected, but their smiles are the same of any other happy family.

Finally it is your turn to give something to Viserys, the king.

‘’Grandsire, we have a surprise.’’ Aemond looks around the room, and everyone watches as Viserys unwraps his present with the help of Alicent, and reveals two red with silver baby socks.

Rhaenyra gasps, delighted before hiding her giggle. Jacaerys and Baela grab each other’s hand and Helaena grins. Even Aegon seems to understand what this means. His hair has slightly grown back, but he keeps it shorter than usual, he quite liked it.

Yet the king seems at loss for words. ‘’These are a little too small for my feet.’’ Viserys says, taking in the baby socks.

Aemond grins, putting his arms around you. You beam, waiting patiently for Viserys to get the hint.

Alicent jumps up from her chair, gasping. ‘’Oh my gods, she is pregnant!’’ You break into a bright grin as Aemond softly rubs your belly.

Instantly the king smiles, standing up to hug you both. ‘’Oh! My stupid arse thought you bought the wrong size!’’ He is still very fragile, but manages to walk a few inches.

‘’Father.’’ Rhaenyra says with a chuckle.

Daemon, her newest husband, smirks, before coming over as well. Usually he is too cool for things like this, but this time, it's different. ‘’Ah to hell it with, get here you two.’’ He hugs you both. You look at the beautifully decorated christmas tree, and realize that next christmas might look even more beautiful.

The next Christmas is just like that, beautiful. Baela is now pregnant with her own child, the future heir to the seven Kingdoms. Dyana has been married too, to a friendly sweet woman she met in a coffee shop. She remains one of your closest friends, after the selection and Dyana and Crystina are invited to court, to become your ladies.

Your son is now born, Prince Daen Targaryen. Aemond and you picked the name together.

‘’He takes after his father, always with his nose stuck in a book.’’ Prince Viserys comments as you and the young prince look through a picture book he got from his aunt, Aunt Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra seems pleased that your son likes her gift and you smile at her. ‘’He likes colorful pictures.’’

Rhaenyra nods. ‘’Viserys and Aegon are the same.’’

Aemond talks with his dad, you see them bond more and more, becoming closer. ‘’Do you remember?’’ He asks.

Viserys almost looks offended. ‘’Of course I do. Your favorite things was to read, to eat cookies and to see the horses.’’

Aemond grins, looking at you and your son. ‘’I thought you had forgotten.’’ He confess.

Viserys nearly chokes on his champagne. ‘’Never.’’

You lift Daen from the ground, picking him up and bringing him to Aemond who happily accepts and holds his son. ‘’Look, it’s daddy.’’ You tell your son with a smile. ‘’Say hello to daddy.’’

He grins, hugging your son tightly when rocking him to sleep. ‘’Our little prince.’’ He tells you with a wink.

You nod. ‘’Our little prince.’’ You have learned a lot in the time of the selection. But the one thing is that your life can change, if you just look past people’s appearances, and past their walls. The most gorgeous crown can be hidden behind a ugly box and the most wonderful story has the dustiest cover. You can’t judge people for the walls they keep around, as everyone has their own stories. But most of all, you learned to fight for things you believe in, and to fight for things you love.

A/N.

Thank you so much for reading with me. When i started it idk how many people would even like it and the support was insane. Thank you all so much. I hope you all liked the story as much as I did telling it, in hotd/selection fashion.

#hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader

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buckybarnesss · 2 years ago

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i am not tagging this for obvious reasons because lol i'm not inviting that onto my blog

can't help but notice that the second people began to notice that din and bo-katan could potentially become a romantic thing the concept of found family was shut down hard by some within the fanbase and turned into the insular sentiment of "clan of two forever and ever and ever"

as if din and grogu never having outside, supportive relationships in different forms with other people is healthy. as if din cannot have a separate relationship for himself outside of being grogu's parent as if being that is his whole identity forever (which also ignores that bo-katan and grogu developed their own little relationship separate from din).

bo-katan only became acceptable to some as someone in din and grogu's life as the wine aunt or lesbian aunt as if these aren't tired stereotypes and the idea that it's only okay if it's gay. just how apparently the only din ships are okay if they're gay OR a non-threatening, more traditionally acceptable female that can be projected upon because she's so very clearly out of the narrative because some of the reaction to bo-katan is some of the same reaction i saw around for cara dune when she was still a possibility for shipping with din.

this is not me saying everyone is like this. far from it. fandom is a big place full of diverse opinions but i've personally observed this kind of sentiment. you don't have to ship something for any reason at all but it's telling how there's been a weird reaction to dinbo and the enforcement of "my headcanon is the only thing acceptable".

also i'm tired of seeing antis in the damn tag.

#my blog #dinbo #the dinbo agenda

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m00nsbaby · 1 year ago

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The calendar.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Yes, I did this only because I hate this man and I wanted to make him unhappy, lol.

Word count. 2.9k

Summary.

There is simply nothing worst than knowing how it ends.

He had his strengths, unfortunately, socializing wasn't part of that extensive list. So when you, a natural chatterbox, took a seat beside him, he knew he was condemned for the rest of the day.

Will didn't know that you were also terrible at making friends.

"I saw you in the literature class, you did great," you whispered with a smile, adhering to the library's rules, and he sighed, thinking that he only responded to teachers' questions because no one else did.

"Uh-huh."

A few seconds of silence, and you picked up on it. After having five people reject your friendship, you understood the message loud and clear. It seemed you would finish your university career without knowing a single friendly soul on campus.

Although, well, in this case, maybe it was your fault. He seemed a bit older than you. Perhaps the weariness of university life had already consumed his soul or something like that.

You didn't say anything more, you crossed your arms and buried your face in them, close to tears. It was only a few seconds before a tap on your shoulder made you turn.

Without looking at you, the curly-haired guy was pushing his coffee cup towards you, as an invitation.

Did you look that exhausted?

In silence, you took the cup and had a sip. Maybe not everything was so bad.

It became a routine; you didn't say anything when you arrived at his side at the same table that only the two of you shared.

You learned that the two free hours you had between classes were the same ones he seemed to have; you always found him in the same spot, writing as if his life depended on it. Many times, the only sound accompanying you was the noise of his old laptop, whose fan you compared to the engine of a broken-down car.

"I didn't see you in class today." It was the first time in a long time that he spoke to you as he pushed the remainder of his coffee towards you, as usual.

You drank it, trying to hide your surprise at his words.

"I overslept."

He scoffed. And you smiled when you discovered that he had more than just one facial expression.

You figured that the encounter for that day was over because he turned towards his backpack. However, instead of packing things, he seemed to be rummaging through it.

"I'll send you what we covered in class." He wrote on a post-it note before pushing it towards you; his email address was written on it.

Very formal, very him.

And you smiled even more, if that was possible.

With time, things became a bit of a frenzy for you two. Before you knew it, you were in Will's arms, already accustomed to his way of covering your eyes and hugging you from behind.

"Who am I?"

"Mhm, let me guess…" He always laughed when you pretended not to recognize him.

Slowly, he slid his hand from your eyes down your face and rested it on your neck. You knew there were people watching you, there were always people watching you at school.

Maybe everyone wondered what you had given to the quietest and most introverted guy in school to have him so enchanted with you.

Slowly, you turned around in his arms. He pressed you against his chest, and you smiled.

"Do you want to study together tonight?"

Study sessions one day turned into make-out sessions.

"Is this okay?" He leaned over your body to look at your laptop screen.

His body rose and fell with your breath, and you tried not to complain that he was crushing you with the weight of his body.

"Poor wording," he teased, and you realized it when he pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, and you pushed him.

"I won't ask for your opinion ever again."

"I tell you for your own good." He rested a hand on the pillow next to your head, looking at you with that mocking smile that annoyed you so much.

"You always say that." You pouted.

He leaned further forward, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"And you keep asking me to review it," he whispered, his huge brown eyes fixed on you.

Your hand rose, and you gently caressed the light beard that began to grow every three days. The same one that tickled you whenever he rested his chin on your neck.

"You're a lousy tutor."

Seconds of silence before he pushed forward, his lips crashing against yours with desperation.

It seemed like Will had been waiting for this his whole life. He was devouring your mouth, claiming it as his own.

This became a habit, meeting every week to kiss until your lips hurt, him squeezing your hip until his fingers were imprinted on you.

All of this under the title of "best friends."

Your story had its ups and downs, needless to say, both of your characters were somewhat special. Because even though you worked perfectly together, you both had too much pride to acknowledge your feelings for each other.

You met his girlfriends; he met every idiot who tried to be with you without realizing that you were too good for losers like them.

You argued, gave each other the cold shoulder on multiple occasions, and reconciled just as many times.

And before you knew it, you were living with him.

Not only that, you had already had an established relationship for about two years.

"Are you going through a phase?" He slid his arms around your waist, and with little force, he pulled you close to his chest as your gaze remained fixed on your phone.

"Can't I listen to One Direction albums on repeat without you judging me?"

"No." Sometimes he was so good in his performances that you had no other choice but to elbow him to take the air out of his lungs.

Still, he laughed.

"Listen, it's a masterpiece." You turned slowly. You placed one of the earphones in his ear, and you kept the other in yours.

As the music played and you hummed along, Will just stared at you. He used to do that often, but he never told you that in the meantime, he was thinking about how lucky he was.

About how he prayed to heaven, to God, to fate, to whatever was listening that life would stay like this forever. With you in his arms and your horrible musical choices.

"It's awful."

You both burst into laughter, and he didn't even complain when you hit him again. Nor did you when he pushed you beneath him, kissing you like a hungry man.

Your shared closet was full of little colorful notes - yellow, pink, green, and orange - and you read each one carefully.

Behind you, Will was biting one of his nails, looking at you as if Jane Austen herself were judging his work.

Exactly 36 minutes passed as you finished your reading, and in the end, you turned to him with a smile that brought his soul back to life.

It turns out that Will had always dreamed of being a writer, and you, better than anyone, had known this since that disastrous afternoon when you first met. In fact, you were surprised that he didn't already have four novels completed, given the speed and desperation with which he always wrote.

"It's perfect, love!" Yeah, it was just a storyboard but you still jumped into his arms, and with the coordination of two people who were born to be together, he lifted you off the ground.

Of course, you supported his dream, even if it meant quitting his job to write full-time. You knew it would be tough, exhausting for you as the primary provider, but in your eyes, it would all be worth it when you saw him dedicate his first book to you.

That had been the deal. You would get the first copy, the first page would clarify how important you were to him (that part was his suggestion), and the book, adorned with his autograph, would be part of the house's decor.

"I can't wait to read it." Your forehead rested against his.

"I love you." He told you all the time, in fact, he had been saying it since you were best friends, but this time it was different.

Special, sincere, and intimate.

Will wanted to tear out his heart and leave it in your hands, like the dramatic writer he had been for years.

And you wanted to take care of it, to take care of his heart, to take care of him, until your time ran out.

"I can't take it anymore, Will." You sobbed in his arms as he gently rocked you back and forth.

The edge of his desk was digging into your ribs every time he leaned forward, but you didn't complain; you knew he was doing his best to console you.

He could only think that it wasn't fair; you were giving up your life to let him fulfill his dream.

It turned out that when you started taking extra shifts, your body began to succumb to physical and emotional exhaustion. You were utterly drained, and in recent days, your boss wasn't making it any easier for you.

"Quit," was the first thing that came to his mind.

And that made you sob even more because you were no longer a child.

Because even though he offered you the easiest way out, you knew when things were possible and when they weren't, and losing your job without a backup plan was by no means an option. That was probably the most frustrating part, not seeing a way out.

Your boyfriend's beard tickled your forehead, and when your breathing synchronized with his, you thought what you always thought. 'This will be worth it someday.'

Will was worth it. Will was worth even more than this, and you knew it. You would never have the strength to ask him to be unhappy again for a little more money.

"We should get married."

Will choked on his cereal, his gaze leaving his laptop for a few seconds.

It wasn't the first time you had made such comments, and although you thought Will was simply too dumb to understand hints, he had decided to start ignoring them.

And he wasn't even sure why. Maybe he had never been attracted to the idea of marriage, maybe part of it made him feel like his youth was slipping through his fingers.

But this time you were too direct to ignore.

"I don't know, love," he scratched his beard, finally pushing his laptop aside.

Lately, you didn't spend as much time together without him writing, without the sound of the keys resonating in your head.

Anyway, his answer was enough to make you swallow hard.

It hurt that he doubted.

"I think we don't have enough money," he cleared his throat with the excuse.

You nodded silently.

That night you turned your back on him, and he unconsciously did the same. He didn't like it at all; in fact, he didn't want to repeat the experience ever again.

"How long are we going to keep this up?" Your voice was almost a cold whisper as you stared at your coffee cup.

Of course, Will had noticed for weeks that things weren't right between you, but by his own choice, he hadn't said anything.

He knew that talking would mean facing many things, maybe hearing from your own mouth everything he had been doing wrong. Losing you.

No scenario seemed tempting to him, so he chose the best way out of all this, pretending that everything was fine, playing dumb when you hinted in some way that things weren't going well. You see, perhaps Will's worst flaw was being selfish.

He could see you losing yourself over time, little by little, every day more, rather than letting you go. Letting you be happy somewhere else.

"Keep what up, love?"

Life was weighing you down. Your job, your relationship, feeling stuck in the same place. And on occasions like these, he reminded you that you weren't ready either.

You didn't have the strength to argue.

Your eyes were tired of the constant burning of tears.

You simply shook your head, and your boyfriend's heart returned to its normal rhythm.

He didn't know how long you would hold up like this, but at least for today, things would stay as they were.

You would sleep in his arms, and he would pretend that hugging you tighter was just an involuntary move and a way to silently comfort those sobs that you always thought would never wake him up.

Sometimes you felt like you were just exaggerating. That you, like all couples, were simply going through a rough patch.

Will was the same. He always was.

The one who made you laugh, the one who saved his last sip of coffee for you, and the one who promised to share his dream of a lifetime with you, which you confirmed on an ordinary Saturday.

He invited you to dinner and temporarily got rid of that beard that always scratched you when you kissed him. He took you to the movies and let you choose the film.

You made out in the last row of seats like teenagers with little time alone, and you laughed out loud when your lipstick ended up completely on his now swollen lips. And things only got better at home.

Yes, you were one of those ridiculous couples who had matching pajamas, and that night, after many, you wore them at the same time.

"I love you." Your stomach fluttered as it had the first time he said it to you, and you kissed his lips until you got tired.

Will watched you sleep, thinking about how lucky he was. He prayed with all his heart that the day would never come when you realized that he would never be worth it, and that unfortunately, living through those terrible ups and downs wouldn't be worth it someday either.

He prayed that you wouldn't notice how his face fell when you proposed the idea of starting a family, or how the excuse of an expensive wedding went to hell when you suggested something small with his family and yours.

Both of you slept on the couch, although the next day you woke up sore, you could ignore many things if Will held you that way with his arms.

Things came to an end exactly three months later when you realized that all the previous times you said, "I can't take it anymore" didn't compare to what it truly meant to not be able to take it anymore.

Will knew it; for a week, it could have been any day.

Still, no matter how much he prepared mentally, it felt like someone was ripping his stomach out when he woke up one day and found you sitting on the couch, a coffee cup in your hand, and your suitcases in front of you.

He thought it was ridiculous that you had to leave your own home, but to the very end, you were thinking of him.

"Don't go," was all he could say, and you looked at him.

You were exhausted.

"I can't stay, Will." You sounded so determined that he almost felt happy to hear you being yourself again. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he heard you speak so firmly.

He wished it hadn't been this way.

"Every morning…" Your voice broke, along with his heart. "Every morning, I feel like I have to put my hands on my chest and check to confirm that I'm alive."

This was precisely what Will had been trying to avoid for so long.

"Please, don't do it," he repeated softly. For a writer of some of the most dramatic stories you'd ever read, he didn't seem to have much else on his mind than this, repeating over and over not to leave.

"Promise me it will be different, and I'll try, Will."

He swallowed hard.

"Make me your wife, make me your everything," you begged through tears.

And he couldn't. He couldn't even walk behind you to stop you as you left, dragging your noisy suitcases.

He knew he would dream for the rest of his nights about that broken hug and painful kiss on the cheek you gave him to say goodbye. And although his ears played him a continuous ringing, something he had only seen in movies, he managed to hear that you said something about taking care of himself.

It tore his soul apart to think that even in the last minute, you were thinking of his well-being, something he had stopped doing a long time ago.

Will's life spiraled downhill, but that's something he had predicted a long time ago. He knew that everything in him depended on you to be okay.

His writings lost their meaning, his novel remained half-finished when he realized that maybe it wasn't worth completing if he wouldn't have someone to dedicate it to in the end.

He always believed that misfortune could bring out the potential in any artist, but unfortunately, he wasn't one of those cases.

He never listened to any songs he recognized from being on the same playlist you used to play on any occasion, and his bed started to feel colder and colder, even in the summer.

The only thing he sometimes liked was that period of time between lying down and falling asleep; he liked to remember.

Sometimes, he even laughed at all those times he begged not to lose you. He wished he had done more than just pray.

#life itself #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n #will dempsey

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