#I love him and his poor writing and this community

[xinganhao]

🥈 svt vs. reader's bad boyfriend.

anon → "could you do a post with one of the members getting after yn's bf because he thinks he's not treating her well enough?"

⌗ ┆i have a terrible feeling i might've misunderstood this req,, so please forgive me if i did lol ꒰ ꒡⌓꒡꒱

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: reader has a bad boyfriend, hurt/comfort, [light] angst, crack, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🥈 headcanons .ᐟ

— "break up with him now" ✩ junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, minghao, vernon.

ah, yes. the trope of someone who will immediately insist that breaking up is the solution, although, in this case, it's completely warranted. soonyoung and minghao are the most vocal about you ending your relationship, but in their own little ways. for his part, soonyoung's a little annoying about it— you'll barely have explained your current predicament and he's already whining, "just break things off with him!" minghao, meanwhile, actually listens, but his expressions and consequent advice are brutal. he's always been no-bullshit when it comes to life, and so when he hears about all the things your boyfriend is doing/has done? he's actively advocating for you to get up and go. junhui's the type to take it out on your boyfriend. he's constantly threatening bodily harm and various other minor crimes against the poor guy, even though he doesn't really ever act on it. he is extra cold when he's in the other man's presence, to the point that your boyfriend may be under the impression that junhui hates him. (spoiler alert! jun does!) wonwoo isn't always vocal about his distaste; he's a little more backhanded/passive-aggressive about it. he's more of an actions guy, through and through. picking up the slack here and there to show you that your boyfriend is a dick for not doing things that your friends can. vernon also struggles a bit to get the right words out, so he just... says it as it is. he may look like he's packaging his advice as a joke, but he's 100% sincere when he sends you breakup playlists and reddit threads about ending things with your significant other. that's just his way of communicating it, really.

— "but are you okay?" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, mingyu, jihoon, seokmin, seungkwan.

for the most part, all the boys are the 'just-end-your-relationship-please' type, but there's also some who rely more on expression of concern. take mingyu, for example, whose chief endeavor will be to cheer you up. he'll leave sweet nothings and encouraging notes in hopes of lifting your mood; his eyes, constantly peeled to see how you're faring. you can rant in to the wee hours of the morning, and both seungkwan and joshua will listen. they'll let you tell the same old stories again and again; even if they half-joke that you just never listen to them, they're still there as a shoulder to cry on. seungkwan is more likely to give advice, while joshua's strength lies in non-judgmental indulgence. seokmin will make it his life's mission to distract you from the issue at hand. a movie night? a trip to an obscure café? if it will improve your mood in any way, shape, or form, he's already halfway there. he won't even mention your boyfriend, if you don't bring him up. seungcheol is similar to mingyu in the sense that he best expresses his concern through little encouraging gifts. he's not the type to push the envelope, to try and get you to talk when/if you're not ready, so he just communicates to you that he's there, when/if you need him. jihoon's also a bit unsure how to navigate a relationship that's not his. he can pick up how you're feeling, at the very least, and so he instead focuses on that. he's a quiet, steadfast presence who will take you to the gym or encourage you to write songs, if only because he thinks those might be potential solutions.

— "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" ✩ jeonghan, chan.

svt's petty line, how i love you so. they can all admittedly be petty when they want to be, but these two? they take the cake. jeonghan is a big believer in "show him what he's missing." he'll snap hot photos of you on your behalf. he'll let you use him as a nice little ploy to incite some jealousy. is it a little toxic, a bit red flag-y? sure, but that asshole is putting you through much worse. jeonghan's a firm believer that revenge is a dish best served cold, and he's cold to the bone when it comes to making sure you get what you deserve. (and that your boyfriend, too, has what's coming for him.) chan is insistent that you should break up with your boyfriend, of course, but he's a big believer that you should go out with a bang. it's a bit amusing, to see one of the group's more lowkey members insist that your boyfriend should be on the receiving end of a public lashing. some might say he just likes the drama. truthfully, he just wants to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you're not someone to be messed with, and that you're not going to settle for anything less now that you've kicked the devil's incarnate to the curb.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! First I want to say how much I appreciate this blog, and how cool it is that so many different people from the disability community have come together to share your perspectives on this blog!

Onto my question!

There are numerous characters existing in books, comics, tv shows and movies that have disabilities. Many of them are well known and beloved characters. But 99.9% of the time their disabilities are used as plot devices, traumatic backstory’s, and forgotten unless their disability is useful to add drama or make a slapstick joke. As a fan fiction writer who sees myself in many of these characters, I want to fix this poor and ableist representation when I write these characters. My question is, how can I do that? I want to maintain what makes these characters who they are, including their disabilities, while still keeping them true their development. I want to add that I have researched all of these disabilities in depth, and the information I’m seeking now is how to include them with proper representation.

For example Steve Rogers’ (Captain America) entire origin story is rooted in the erasure of his disabilities. He goes from being disabled and mocked and bullied because of that, to a super hero, who is strong, fast, has enhanced hearing and sight. He’s ‘magically’ cured. What we love about his character is that his newly acquired super powers don’t change his morals and beliefs. But his disabilities have still been erased.

For this character (and other characters who magically go from disabled to abled) would you recommend finding a halfway point? For example, Steve Rogers still gets tall and buff and gains super strength and stamina, but he still some of his disabilities like scoliosis, hard of hearing, or diabetes? Or keeping him how he looks before his transformation, but still having him have his super powers?

Another example (marvel again, because marvel uses disability and subsequent disability erasure as one of its main plot devices) is Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier. He is a forequarter amputee who is given a science fiction prosthetic. This prosthetic required invasive surgery and implants (all of which was non consensual). His prosthetic is very strong, stronger than his right arm (even with super soldier serum that already makes him stronger than other humans). This technology doesn’t exist in real life, and this prosthetic (and prosthetics in other media that has amputee characters) is treated like a fix all: like a new arm but even better so then the character who went through dramatic trauma for the plot doesn’t have to be disabled anymore. Here is my conundrum: the winter soldier has a prosthetic left arm that he can fight with is an important part of his character. To not write him as an amputee erases his disability completely, but to write him without his high tech prosthetic also takes away from other important parts of his character. So my question is, when writing this character (and other amputee characters with similar situations) is it best to find a halfway point? Let this character have his advanced super strong and dexterous prosthetic, but have him actually treat it like a prosthetic (for example, he takes it off, doesn’t sleep with it, and knows how to do tasks without it). Or would it be better to make the prosthetic more realistic? As strong as his other arm, he can’t use it like a battering ram, etc. Or would it be more appropriate to find different ways for characters to do what they do without advanced prosthetics?

I would love to hear specific suggestions for these characters but it would be great too if you had some broad suggestions for repairing disability erasure within any existing work of fiction. Thank you so much for all of the hard work you all put into cripplecharacters!!

Hello,

My time has come.

So Steve Rogers is a product of his time. Back when he was created, living with the disabilities he had was far harder. But nowadays we have medications and treatments his creators would've never thought possible- I mean, this was the time when smoking was the treatment for asthma- so consider incorporating those. For some of them, like what's probably rheumatic heart disease from the scarlet fever, a halfway point would probably be best (more on that in a second.) For other things, modern treatments will do just fine. If Howard Stark can create a flying car, he can create iron supplements and blood sugar monitors. Let's see what he has and how he can be accomodated;

Asthma- the serum can strengthen his lungs and lessen the severity, or you can skip that step and instead look at modern treatments for asthma, which include breathing exercises, slowly increasing exercise to improve the body's tolerance, and a lot of medications. Without knowing the type of asthma he has it's hard to know what his asthma attack plan would be, but considering he has no mentioned allergies, it's probably non-allergic persistent. This can be treated with a combination of long-term control medications, which are taken on a set schedule to help prevent asthma attacks, rescue medications that are used as-needed for asthma attacks, and possibly biologics, which are injected medications for people with severe asthma. These medications are a bit similar to immune suppressants, suppressing the body and immune responses that cause asthma attacks. He can also do breathing exercises to strengthen the lungs and slowly build up exercise tolerance. The bigger lungs due to his bigger body should also help.

Diabetes- there's a massive range of insulin pumps, blood sugar monitors, sugar tablets, and whatever else have you that makes life for diabetics. He'd also benefit from a diet plan, which will take in his level of diabetes, what his pancreas can handle, and potential problem areas to create a diet that works for him and helps him avoid hypoglycaemia and hyperglycaemia.

Astigmatism- contacts, or just some form of glasses or goggles. That's assuming his vision is bad enough to need correction at all, because some people with astigmatism can get by without. He's gotten this far without any form of corrective lense and he's not a long-range fighter, so he might not even need them. Still, they would be useful for him to have in his day-to-day life.

Rheumatic fever- this is one of the biggest problems. Rheumatic fever and scarlet fever mess the body up bad, and I'm willing to bet these are what cause his cardiac arrhythmias (irregular heartbeat.) The serum could strengthen his heart. He can also use a vast range of hypotensives (for the high blood pressure,) any number of heart medications, maybe anticoagulants to reduce risk of blood clots, a pacemaker or other implants, maybe surgery to replace damaged heart valves, and regular check-ups on the health of his heart. If all else fails, a heart transplant might be on the table.

Bone deformity- the treatment is going to depend on which bones, the severity of the deformity, and the cause. They didn't specify, so you can find what you think you'd best be able to work with and go from there. Treatments can include surgery, braces, physical therapy, and some medications that can treat the underlying cause.

Scoliosis- probably can just be left alone, maybe a little physical therapy to help him reduce pain. If you've decided he has a severe case, he can get surgery to straighten his spine. (Personally, I would love to see a character with scoliosis who has rib cage deformity.)

Nervous trouble- probably an anxiety disorder, can be treated through a combination of therapy and medication

These writers didn't live in a time where a soldier could have these disabilities, but now we do. There are treatments available for him that can help him, things the writers never could have imagined back in the thirties. He can still be a super soldier with his disabilities.

As for Bucky, take my opinion with a grain of salt because I am not an amputee. But you're right, him losing his arm and Hydra forcing a replacement on him is a huge part of his story and would be incredibly hard to change. The easiest way about it would probably be to keep it the same, he loses his arm and Hydra gives him a new one, but he gets rid of the arm once he's free.

The arm has failsafes in place to protect his handlers and he has no idea what kind of risks it holds, like if it has a tracking device that could lead them right to him. It's a liability and could put him in danger. He also didn't want the arm in the first place and, based on the scratch-mark scars where the metal meets his shoulder, he has tried to remove it before. Plus, if something goes wrong, he can't fix it. That arm is centuries ahead of modern technology, created by Hydra top scientists, it's a titanium alloy, he has no idea how it works or anything about how it was made, the tools required to fix it are probably hundreds, thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars (or tools that only exist because one Hydra guy created them, meaning Bucky can't get them and probably can't recreate them-) look, he has a high school education from a century ago. There's no way he's going to be able to fix or even maintain such an advanced piece of technology. Even if he did somehow know how to do it, he doesn't have the funds to do it. Sooner or later, the arm is going to be a problem. So he would probably get rid of it. Tony Stark would jump at the chance to help him remove it, he would love to get to stick it to Hydra.

Getting rid of the arm can also be a freedom thing. It marks him as the Winter Soldier, it's a symbol of Hydra's control of him. By getting rid of it, he's one step closer to being free of their hold on him. He doesn't need the arm. The movies demonstrated that he's perfectly capable of getting by without it, showing him easily running his little goat farm in Wakanda without his bionic arm or even a realistic prosthetic, just using his remaining arm. (Additionally, did you see the look on his face when they gave him a new one? The exhaustion in his voice as he asked where the coming fight was? He did not want that new arm, he wanted to keep happily existing peacefully on his farm and having the arm meant he couldn't do that. He wouldn't want a new bionic.)

For Bucky, I would recommend letting him ditch the bionic as part of his quest for freedom.

In general, my main recommendation would be accessibility and medicine rather than magic cures. If you have any other specific examples because Marvel very, very rarely did disability representation right, feel free to ask if you need help improving them. It's my passion. You have no idea how excited I was seeing this in the ask box.

Mod Aaron

Hi!

Going from deaf or hard of hearing to having super hearing is a bit tricky. I'd recommend this way of doing both:

The ranges that are affected by his specific hearing loss stay hard to hear (with only very mild improvement if any).

The ranges that aren't affected get amplified, possibly even to a debilitating degree.

For many deaf/hoh people, hearing things, especially if the sound is louder than we expect, is very overwhelming. The solution above somewhat mimics the experience of wearing hearing aids, but since they are his powers they can't be removed the same way. (It would be very interesting to explore that through the lens of paralleling forced oralism...)

Mod Rock

[nullbutler]

Literally all of my irls dislike Alois. What do I do. How do I convert them (I’m not forcing them to watch the source material)

HMMMMM have you tried forcing them to read fan fiction?

I think alois is an unusually acquired taste, because most of my IRLs watched black butler when they were 12 and only vaguely remember him as the "energetic mean blond kid". That ignorance is a blessing and I'd imagine you aren't in that situation. their experience is probably more...lucid.

That being said there's little to nothing from the source that portrays him in a particularly good light (every scene is so...vaguely iffy lol like the scene where he meets Ciel? he licks him. The eye gouging scene? enough said). Fanfic is also a good outlet, and also the fight scene with him and ciel is one of my personal favorites from the show because it's literally just his personality and a sword to swing. It's one of the best digestible clips if you ABSOLUTELY MUST. The butterfly OVA is also particularly charming and puts some good insight on his character -- he also doesn't injure anyone or do anything too wild in that one (aside from setting his room on fire).

...BUT YEAH it's very difficult, because a part of liking him is being disturbed by him and then slowly having those feelings ferment into a kind of "I can't fix you but I love you in your brokenness and I wish the best for you" mindset. AT LEAST FOR ME. And it's very annoyingly difficult to convince people to enjoy a character that, at the end of the day, is more a fan amalgamation than a set in stone particularly well written person (not that our beloved traits AREN'T present, implied, or otherwise portrayed, they're just sequestered in a lot of sludge)

[twistedappletree]

Arranged marriage zhuiling AU where instead of being arranged to marry each other, Jiang Cheng keeps trying to set Jin Ling up with random girls from other clans after Jin Ling mentions he’s interested in marrying ‘someone’ because he doesn’t know Jin Ling meant Lan Sizhui, so Jin Ling keeps doing the most ridiculously annoying and unappealing things to scare off every girl who comes to Koi Tower and Jiang Cheng is ripping his hair out because you little brat, you said you wanted to get married???

Eventually, both of them are so exhausted from the miscommunication that Jiang Cheng investigates and finally finds out what’s wrong, then tells Jin Ling he has one more potential spouse for him to meet. Jin Ling is a pouting lackluster mess over it until his entire world stops when the doors to Koi Tower open and Lan Sizhui walks through.

[oddsconvert]

Whose bracelet was it? Aaron my baby 👀 And how would Josh react if he ever figured out that Felix's first lover died in the basement?

It was indeed Aaron's bracelet 🥺💔 Josh just unfortunately happened to find it before Felix ever did.

Josh would be (will be 😉) inconsolable to find out that not only were there others before him - but one died in the basement. He'd be a WRECK - I think he'd want to fight back and lash out of survival instinct but just falls into terrified subservience instead.

[ugghouly]

I think the way laios tried to help senshi with his trauma is really masterful writing. He doesn't know how to be delicate with the situation, but he knows his friend is hurting, he knows what he needs to do, he knows what he thinks would put senshi at ease about what happened to him. Marcille and chilcuck freak out as he tried the first soup but the whole time he is thinking in circles about what he believes could be the real answer. He doesn't know how to be gentle or nurturing about it but he puts his whole being into finding the answer for his beloved friend. Such a good way at communicating his immense love and caring personality in combination with his trait of poor social skills. His approach isn't super pleasant to marcille and chilchuck but he goes above and beyond to console senshi where the others just sit there shocked.

[pucksandpower]

Fairytale

Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco!Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc has everything he could ask for (off the track, at least) including a fairytale romance … except no one actually believes that his girlfriend is really his girlfriend

Charles sighs as he walks into the drivers’ lounge, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. Ever since he had casually mentioned having a girlfriend, and more specifically who the girlfriend in question is, his friends have been merciless.

“Wow, if it isn’t Prince Charles in the flesh! Back from another romantic getaway with his imaginary princess,” Max laughs as he enters.

“Come on mates, lay off,” Charles pleads half-heartedly. He knows it is useless.

“I just don’t get it,” Lando chimes in. “There’s no shame in admitting that you’re single. We’re racing drivers, we don’t exactly always have time for relationships.”

“Maybe his standards are too high,” Pierre suggests. “He’s actually holding out for real royalty or something.”

The others laugh as Charles feels his face grow warm. If only they believed him.

“You know what you need?” Carlos grins. “A nice Spanish girl to set you up with. My sister’s friend Elena is single, I could give you her number.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because we’ve never seen her!” Max exclaims. “You talk about her all the time but she never comes to races or appears in photos. She might as well be a unicorn.”

“Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be seen with Charles,” Lando teases.

Charles frowns, stung by Lando’s words. If only they knew the truth. The reality is that his girlfriend is extremely famous in her own right and values the little privacy she has left too much to be seen at races. Her life is already public enough without adding the scrutiny that anyone connected to a Formula 1 driver inevitably receives on top of it. Besides, she has her own royal duties to attend to.

“Come on guys, that’s unfair,” Pierre says gently, noticing Charles’ discomfort. “If Charles says he has a girlfriend, we should believe him.”

“Thank yo—” Charles starts to say with relief. At least someone is on his side.

“Even if she is imaginary,” Pierre adds with a smirk.

Charles groans and puts his head in his hands as the laughter starts up again. He can’t really blame them for not believing him.

You are basically a fairytale princess — beautiful, elegant, and kind. Not to mention an actual member of the royal family. Her Serene Highness Princess Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline of Monaco is the type of girl people write epic poems and songs about. Charles can hardly believe his luck that you had chosen him.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Daniel interrupts, taking pity on Charles. “Leave the poor man alone.”

“We’re just joking,” Max says defensively. “Charles knows we don’t mean anything by it.”

Charles gives Max a tight smile. “Sure.”

“Tell you what,” Daniel says, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “Bring your mystery girl to a race soon. We’ll all get to meet her and then you can finally prove these jokers wrong.”

Charles sighs. If only it were that simple. You have been tempted to attend races in the past but the scrutiny both of them would come under is just too much. You treasure the privacy your relationship allows. But maybe Daniel is right. Maybe it is time for you to finally meet his friends. After all, you are the love of his life. There is nothing to hide.

“Alright, deal,” Charles says finally. “I’ll ask her.”

The others exchange surprised looks, not expecting him to agree.

“Can’t wait to meet her,” Carlos says with a wink.

Charles rolls his eyes again but smiles. One way or another, he is going to prove to them that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination.

***

Charles is still thinking about you when he is suddenly accosted by Silvia, Ferrari’s Head of Communications, after practice.

“Charles! Just who I was looking for,” she says briskly. “I need to discuss something rather important with you.”

Charles suppresses a groan. Conversations with Silvia are never fun. “What’s up?” He asks with forced cheerfulness.

Silvia lowers her voice. “It’s about your relationship status. We feel it would be beneficial if you were seen dating someone … compatible.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Compatible?”

“Yes. A model. Or perhaps an actress. Someone who would look good on your arm and boost your image.”

Charles folds his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with my girlfriend?”

Silvia waves a hand impatiently. “Yes yes, this alleged princess you keep mentioning. The problem, Charles, is that no one has seen her. No one knows if she is actually connected to you in any way. So, as far as we are concerned, for all intents and purposes, you are single.”

Charles frowns. This again. “I keep telling you that she’s really my girlfriend. Y/N is just very private.”

“Private women don’t date Formula 1 drivers,” Silvia says bluntly. “If she really was in a relationship with you, she would be here. But since that is clearly a figment of your imagination, we need to take steps.”

Charles feels his blood boil. How dare Silvia insult his relationship with Y/N? Question their connection?

“Here are profiles of suitable options,” Silvia continues, shoving a surprisingly heavy folder at him. Charles doesn’t open it.

“No.”

Silvia blinks. “No?”

“My relationship with Y/N is off limits,” Charles says firmly. “My personal life is exactly that — personal. Not to be exploited for PR.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Silvia snaps. “This is bigger than you. Your image reflects on Ferrari. We need to be able to control it.”

“No. What you need to do is back off,” Charles shoots back.

Silvia’s nostrils flare. Clearly she isn’t used to such defiance. “Charles, be reasonable—”

“I am being reasonable,” Charles interrupts. “I won’t pretend to date someone just because the team wants me to. I’m with Y/N. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

Silvia shakes her head in disgust. “You’re making a big mistake. Don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”

She storms off, heels clicking angrily against the floor.

Charles takes a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He can’t remember the last time he stood up to Silvia like that. It felt good but also nerve-wracking. He knows she won’t let this go easily.

His phone buzzes and his heart leaps when he sees it’s a text from you.

Heard you had a rough day. Wish I could be there to make it better. I love you 💋

Charles smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing. You always knew just what to say and when to say it.

He quickly types back.

I wish you were here too. No matter what anyone says, they can’t change my feelings for you. I love you so much ❤️

He hits send, imagining your smile as you read his text. It doesn’t matter what his team, the media, or even his fellow drivers think. His relationship with you is real and authentic. Someday he’ll find a way for you to be by his side. But for now, your private moments together are enough.

Charles knows staying with you is the right decision, PR be damned. You are his soulmate — the fairytale princess he never expected to find but thanks God every single day that he did. Your love is worth fighting for. And someday, when the time is right, he’ll finally be able to show the world that what you have together is very real.

***

Charles groans as he notices multiple missed calls from his brothers. He has been avoiding their calls lately, knowing they would just tease him mercilessly about his girlfriend. But he knows he can’t dodge them forever.

Taking a deep breath, he calls Arthur back.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charles himself, taking time away from his busy schedule of dating princesses to spare a chat with us commoners,” Arthur says slyly upon answering.

Charles rolls his eyes. “Very funny. What do you want?”

“We just wanted to check in on our brother and see how life with Monegasque royalty is treating you,” Lorenzo chimes in. Charles realizes he must be on speaker.

“Oh yes, Princess Y/N,” Arthur says in an exaggerated swoony voice. “Our brother’s one true love since he was 15 years old and had that giant poster of her plastered on his wall.”

Charles feels his face flush. He knows exactly what poster Arthur is referencing — a stunning photo of you in a ballgown from a high society event years ago. Teenage Charles has ripped it out of a magazine and hung it up reverently in his room, gazing at it longingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sputters. “I never had a poster.”

“Oh really?” Lorenzo laughs. “I seem to recall you cutting out every picture you could find of her and keeping a little scrapbook.”

Charles cringes internally. Okay, maybe his teenage obsession had been a bit … enthusiastic. But he can’t help that he had recognized you as his dream girl even then.

“Alright, so maybe I had a tiny crush on her,” Charles admits. “But it is not crazy that we ended up together.”

Arthur cackles. “You used to kiss her photos goodnight before going to bed! You were completely obsessed!”

“Remember how he tried to sneak into that royal gala at Salle des Etoiles to see her?” Lorenzo adds. “He was totally insane.”

Charles grimaces at the memory. Okay, not his finest moment.

“Face it Charles, you’ve been in love with the imaginary idea of Princess Y/N since you were in nappies,” Arthur teases. “No shame in admitting she wouldn't even give you the time of day now.”

Charles feels his frustration rising. Why does no one believe him?

“Because your so-called relationship makes no sense!” Lorenzo says, accurately reading his silence. “She’s a literal princess and you’re … you.”

“Gee, thanks,” Charles grumbles. He knows his brothers are just teasing but it still stings.

“Come on, just admit you made the whole thing up to get everyone off your back,” Arthur prods.

Charles sighs loudly. “For the millionth time, what we have is 100 percent real! Just because it seems unlikely doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I don’t care if none of you believe me, I love her and she loves me.”

His brothers are silent for a moment.

“You alright there?” Arthur asks, his voice softening.

“Yes, I just wish everyone would stop questioning my relationship all the time,” Charles admits. “It hurts.”

“We’re only joking Charles, we don’t mean any harm,” Lorenzo says gently.

“I know,” Charles replies. “Doesn’t make it any easier to hear constantly though.”

“You’re right, we took the teasing too far,” Arthur says. “We’ll lay off from now on.”

Charles smiles slightly. “Thanks. And someday soon I will prove to you that it is real.”

His brothers are silent for a moment.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Arthur finally laughs.

Charles groans and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Clearly nothing he says would convince his stubborn brothers that his relationship with you was real and not merely a childhood fantasy.

“Alright, well, I should get going,” Charles mumbles, eager to get off the phone.

“Chin up, we’re only teasing,” Lorenzo says lightly. “Have fun with your imaginary princess!”

Arthur and Lorenzo explode into more laughter as Charles quickly hangs up, his face burning. Someday, he will prove to them and everyone else that his amazing girlfriend isn’t just a figment of his imagination. No matter how long it takes.

***

Charles sinks into the familiar couch in his sports psychologist’s office, exhausted after a long day on the simulator and endless teasing from his team.

“Rough day out there?” Dr. Anderson asks kindly, noticing the strain on Charles’ face.

“That’s an understatement,” Charles sighs. “The car is just so slow this year. We keep trying new setups and tweaks but nothing helps. And the strategy is somehow even worse than the pace. It’s like the team wants me to fail.”

Dr. Anderson nods sympathetically. “That must be very frustrating. Tell me more about how it’s impacting you.”

Charles launches into a tirade about the endless issues with the car, the incompetent strategists, and the lack of proper communication from his engineers. Dr. Anderson listens patiently, letting him vent his pent-up anger and disappointment.

After a lengthy rant, Charles finally runs out of steam. “Anyway, it’s just been a terrible season,” he concludes glumly.

“I can certainly understand why you feel that way,” Dr. Anderson says. “It sounds like the team is letting you down in many ways.”

Charles nods, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders after unloading. It helps to talk about it with someone whose job is not to judge.

“Is there anything else bothering you lately?” Dr. Anderson asks gently. “Any other sources of stress?”

Charles hesitates. He and Dr. Anderson have been working together for years, ever since he joined Ferrari. He knows he can open up to her.

“It’s just … well, besides the team stuff, no one believes me about my girlfriend,” he admits.

Dr. Anderson raises her eyebrows. “I see. Tell me more about that.”

Charles explains the endless teasing from his fellow drivers, the manipulation attempts by the PR team, and the doubtful reactions from his own family. How despite his best efforts, no one seems willing to accept that he is really dating Princess Y/N of Monaco.

“It’s so frustrating!" He bursts out at the end. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince them that we are actually together.”

Dr. Anderson purses her lips, jotting down notes. “I can understand why their doubt would upset you. It must be painful to have your relationship questioned.”

“Exactly!" Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up. “You get it. I knew I could talk to you.”

Dr. Anderson gives him a sympathetic smile.

Charles leaves the appointment feeling much better, confident that his psychologist believes him and is on his side.

As he is exiting, Charles notices Dr. Anderson’s notebook left open on her desk. Before he can stop himself, his eyes scan the page and focus on his name.

He feels his heart sink as he reads.

Charles Leclerc: deflecting from pain of difficult season by creating elaborate fantasy relationship. Fixation on celebrity crush indicates deeper self-esteem issues. Recommend to confront delusion directly in next session.

Charles reels, shock and anger swirling through him. Not even his own psychologist believes him! She thinks he is living in some weird fantasy.

Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Charles straightens his shoulders and walks out. He has never felt more alone and frustrated in his conviction. But he refuses to give up. No matter what anyone says, his love for you is real. And one day, somehow, he will prove it to the world.

***

Charles is back at his family home in Monaco during a rare few days off. He is puttering around the kitchen while his mother cooks dinner.

“Oh, by the way, Y/N is coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles mentions casually. “I want you all to finally meet her.”

Pascale laughs lightly without looking up from the stove. “Of course, sweetie.”

Charles frowns. “I’m serious, maman. She’ll be here in an hour.”

“Mhmm, I’m sure she will,” Pascale replies indulgently. Charles huffs in annoyance.

Just then, his brothers come into the kitchen, freshly showered after playing football outside.

“Hey Charles, how’s life with your imaginary girlfriend?” Lorenzo immediately teases.

“She’s actually coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles says tersely.

Arthur lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah right! Good one.” He grabs a piece of bread from the counter, still chuckling.

Charles throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why does no one ever believe me about her?”

“Boys, that’s enough,” Pascale chides gently. “Let your brother dream.”

Charles opens his mouth to retort but just then, the doorbell rings. His eyes widen.

“I’ll get it!" He yells, dashing for the door. He takes a deep breath before swinging it open to reveal you standing there casually in jeans and a sweater, looking effortlessly gorgeous.

“Surprise!" You laugh, pulling him into a tight hug. Charles melts into your embrace, all his stress and frustration fading away.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” he murmurs into your hair.

You pull back to smile at him tenderly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I want your family to know how much I love you.”

Charles grins and takes your hand, leading your into the kitchen where his stunned family waits.

Pascale’s mouth is hanging open in shock. The piece of bread Arthur is holding falls to the floor with a dull thump.

“Y-your Serene Highness,” Pascale finally manages to stammer out, hastily wiping her hands on a towel. “What an honor, we weren’t expecting you ...”

She shoots an accusatory look at Charles, who throws up his hands defensively. “I told you she was coming!”

Pascale flushes. “Yes, well, I didn’t think … that is … we would have prepared ...”

You step forward gracefully, immediately putting Pascale at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N. I’ve been dying to meet Charles’ family.”

As you effortlessly charm his mother and brothers, Charles stands back watching with a satisfied smile. The shock and sheepishness on his family’s faces is vindicating after so many months of teasing and disbelief.

Charles has never been one to say “I told you so” but … I told you so.

***

The cheers of the crowd are deafening as the chequered flag waves for Charles at the Monaco Grand Prix. He can hardly believe it — finally, a win at his home race!

As he pulls into parc fermé and jumps out of the car, the emotions hit him. Pure elation at ending the long wait for a home victory. Relief at overcoming the team’s doubts. But most of all, excitement for what comes next.

The podium ceremony.

And with the Monegasque royal family presenting the trophies as usual, Charles knows exactly who will be handing him the winner’s trophy.

He can barely stand still through the anthems, eager for his moment with you. The weekend has been agony, so close to you yet having to pretend that there is nothing between the two of you.

But not anymore.

At last, the royal family walks onto the podium led by none other than Princess Y/N. Charles’ heart skips a beat at the sight of you gliding towards him in a figure-hugging red midi dress, sunlight glinting off your carefully styled hair. You somehow manage to become more and more beautiful every time he sees you.

Stopping in front of him, you give him a subtle wink before launching into the customary congratulatory speech. Charles nods along, not hearing a word as he zones out while admiring the stunning woman he gets to call his own.

At last, you turn to pick up the trophy. “It is my honor to present this trophy to our victor, who represents Monaco with pride in everything he does, Charles Leclerc,” you announce, holding it out to him with a brilliant smile.

In that moment, Charles throws all caution to the wind. As he accepts the trophy, he reaches out and pulls you into a passionate kiss.

The crowd below erupts in shocked cheers and screams. You melt into the kiss for a blissful moment before gently pulling back, your eyes sparkling. Charles grins at you breathlessly.

“Worth the wait?” He murmurs.

“Absolutely,” you whisper back, squeezing his hand. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour.”

Turning back to the roaring crowd, Charles wraps an arm around your waist and thrusts your linked hands into the air in triumph.

Looking out at the paddock, Charles sees the priceless dumbfounded looks on his fellow drivers’ faces. The Ferrari PR team looks ready to pass out in horror. Reporters are screaming questions and snapping photos frantically.

But Charles only has eyes for the radiant princess at his side. At long last, he has made your love public for the whole world to see.

Later, after celebrations around the circuit have started winding down in favor of moving to lounges and clubs for the night, Charles and you escape for a private moment together.

“That was quite the reveal,” you say with an amused quirk of your eyebrow.

Charles laughs. “I know, subtlety has never been my strong suit. I hope you don’t mind.”

You caress his face tenderly. “Of course not. I’m happy to finally be by your side. No more hiding.”

Charles kisses you deeply, all the love and longing of the past months pouring into it.

When you finally break apart, foreheads touching, he murmurs, “No more doubts. No more teasing. They all know now that you’re real and all mine.”

“Forever yours,” you whisper back. And seal it with another perfect kiss.

***

“I can’t believe it. I just … actually can’t believe it,” Max mutters, staring at the large screens around the paddock that are showing you and Charles gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes during the post-race interviews.

“Lord Perceval … dating an actual princess,” Carlos muses in disbelief.

“And not just any princess, his teenage celebrity crush!" Lando exclaims.

“I guess we owe him an apology,” Pierre says sheepishly.

“Big time,” Daniel agrees. “We gave him so much crap for making her up.”

“Speak of the devil,” Max mutters as Charles strides into the room, hand-in-hand with you.

An awkward silence descends on the group. Charles clears his throat, enjoying their obvious discomfort.

“I believe you all know my girlfriend, Her Serene Highness Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline, Hereditary Princess of Monaco and Marquise of Baux. But you can just call her Your Serene Highness or Princess Y/N,” he says politely.

The guys mumble greetings, not quite meeting your eyes. You smile graciously. “You can just call me Y/N. Any friend of Charles is a friend of mine and there’s no need for titles around friends.”

Charles narrows his eyes. “Actually I don’t think that will be necessary. I believe they should maintain protocol and address you properly.”

You shoots him a look. “Darling, it’s fine, really. I want your friends to feel comfortable around me.”

But Charles crosses his arms, not budging. “No, it’s not fine. I must insist that they observe the formal mode of address for royalty.”

The drivers shift awkwardly again. You pull Charles aside with a soothing smile.

“What are you doing?” You whisper. “I’m trying to put them at ease.”

“I know but they deserve to squirm for a bit after how much they mocked us,” Charles whispers back petulantly.

You bite back a smile. “Don’t be silly. I know their teasing hurt but let’s move past it. Can you really blame them for thinking it sounds like a made up fairytale? Put yourself in their shoes.”

Charles sighs. “I guess you’re right ... I just want them to respect you.”

“They will, in time,” you say gently. “But forcing them to be overly formal won’t accomplish that. I’m still just me.”

Charles nods reluctantly. “Okay fine, we’ll do it your way.”

You turn back to the drivers who are trying to act natural and pretending that they didn’t just listen in on your conversation with a bright smile. “I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you say. “Charles speaks very highly of his fellow drivers.”

“We’re, uh, happy to finally meet you too,” Max manages to get out.

“Yeah, congrats mate,” Daniel offers weakly.

More awkward silence follows. Charles smirks, deciding to twist the knife a bit more.

“I know you all had your doubts about me landing a catch like Y/N,” he says casually. “But I can’t blame you. Even I can hardly believe someone so incredible would fall for me.”

He gazes at you adoringly as you blush prettily while the drivers fidget uneasily.

“Anyway, as you can now see, she’s real and we are happier than ever!" Charles concludes brightly.

“We’re really sorry for not believing you,” Lando bursts out sincerely. “And all the teasing.”

The others chime in with apologies and congratulations. Charles graciously accepts, reassuring them no hard feelings.

After you have throughly charmed them all and departed, the group surrounds Charles excitedly.

“Alright, you have to give us all the details,” Max demands. “How did you meet? How did you get her to go out with you? When did it get serious?”

Charles just laughs. “It’s a long story. But the important thing is that she’s the only one for me. Despite everyone doubting us, our love was real from the start.”

“Pretty epic to have a real life princess as your soulmate,” Pierre says dreamily.

“Just remember you knew me back when you all thought she was imaginary,” Charles jokes.

“We’ll never live it down,” Carlos groans goodnaturedly.

Charles smiles, feeling lighter and happier than he has in ages. The long struggle to prove himself has been worth it. Now he has everything — the win, the girl, and the utter shock and joy of proving to the world that even his wildest dreams can come true.

And this is only the beginning for him and his beloved princess.

[tsukii0002]

My demons' periods cycles. By Mc

Note: these are purely my headcanons at the moment, they are based on animal ethology and behaviours that I think would suit each character depending on their personality and Lore. I would love to read your headcanon in case you have them.

Warning: Long text. Possible grammatical errors. It's written as if Mc was writing for themself.

Hey, it me Mc, the best human. Here is a compilation of the behaviours of my demons during their periods, cycles, for practical day to day use. It wasn't easy but I sat them down and got to talk to them, with a little effort I now know what they need. So now I am ready to assist them during these complicated times and be prepared in case I find a dead goat on the porch as a tribute.

Lucifer, Mammon & Levi || Satan, Asmo, & Beel || Belphie, Barbatos & Diavolo || Simeon & Raphael

Satan

Light damages his eyes, and during his period he does not sleep at all.

During his cycle, the plaques that extend from his tail to his entire body become more pronounced and acquire a bioluminescent coating. As do its horns. Beware, they prick.

Some parts of his body grow feathers (I think this is a "side" effect of his birth). He aggressively plucks them out, help him not to hurt himself.

His teeth grow continuously, he has to be sanding them (biting things or his own tail). Other than that he doesn't groom much.

Satan doesn't have a fixed place to spend his heat, and although he likes to "nest" he doesn't know how to do it well, which frustrates him a lot. Help him, you already have experience (I think that's why he has chosen my room as his favourite place)

Depending on the weather he may make something more like a nest or a burrow.

Satan is terribly territorial, even with his siblings. He has had a run in with Cerberus from time to time. Please don't let that happen, the house won't hold.

Satan does not have a pre-heat period as such, but you can tell it is coming because he becomes more taciturn and solitary.

Raw meat is his main food, which is what he goes out to hunt very often because he needs a lot of it, but make sure he doesn't eat more than his capacity or it will make him sick. One way to do this is to feed him yourself (I think he thinks you have hunted for him if you do this).

Satan is the only one who haunts other demons and even souls of the condemned.

It is the only one that has fought other demons. Any living thing within 100 metres of him is encroaching on his territory, which is a problem because he moves so much for hunt.

Satan becomes non-verbal. But he does not use noises to communicate, only physical contact.

Growls and roars are reserved for threats and warnings (in other words, to communicate with everyone but you).

He likes physical contact, but is afraid to get close in case he hurts you (his tags and tail), you won't deny him comfort so be careful and that's it.

Satan produces pheromones, but does not usually mark.

His way of courting is to offer you resources, especially prey (he wants to prove he can feed you), it's not the first time he's brought you a live demon. Once he brought you a Little D, the poor thing kept shaking.

Satan's senses are heightened to the extreme. Many stimuli upset him and he has fits of rage. talk to him, so that he focuses his attention on your voice, that will calm him down. Lucifer's voice calms him down a lot too (but it's a secret)

All these changes (hormonal, behavioural…) are not good for his anger, the poor thing gets very angry without knowing why.

Satan's temperature is a reflection of his activity, when he is on the move it increases and when he stops it decreases.

During periods of low activity he curls up next to you, holding your hand (for fear of hurting you) with his pupils fully dilated, don't be fooled, he is fully alert and ready to attack.

Satan purrs? YES! It's the purr that most resembles a cat (that will make him happy, but don't tell him, the avatar of wrath has his pride).

Mc: *in their bedroom helping Satan* Here is ok?

Satan: *looking at them and nodding*

Mc: Making a nest is complicated… are you sure this is okay?

Satan: *standing next to them and rubbing his cheek with their cheek *

Mc: *smiling* Okay, let's go to the next part.

Satan: *grunting at a demon that's approached the house*

Mc: Satan!!! Satan stop!!!

Demon: *paralyzed with fear*

Mc: *hugging* Satan now, let him go, he's going, he's goi- agh!

Satan: !!!

Mc: *cut themself with his tail* It's okay, it's nothing.

Satan: *guilty look*

Mc: *taking him by the hand* Don't worry, this heals fast.

Satan: *nodding still guilty, squeezing their hand*

Demon: …. I thought I was dying!!!!

Satan: *purring as he presses his chin on Mc*

Mc: *talking to him to calm him down* And remember you don't have to go out every day, there's plenty of food here….

Satan: *purring more loudly*

Mc: But if you see my great uncle's soul, the one from the village, it's all yours.

Satan: *nodding with a smile*

Mc: *laughing* How trustworthy, you're awesome Satan.

Asmo

Although he spends most of his time awake, he needs to sleep.

He can be just as active during the day as he is at night (like arachnids).

For him to sleep, you have to be right next to him or he won't sleep.

Asmo needs to nest completely under cover, underground, but prefers the safety of his home to going outside. So he improvises a burrow in his room.

During his period the scales of his exoskeleton become shiny and velvety coated, as do his wings and horns.

Them take on a more striking fuchsia colour than usual. It will be one of the few times you will be able to see Asmo's tail with its sting.

He preens himself a lot, moistening its wings, polishing its scales... At first he is a little reluctant to be helped, but later he will be constantly asking for your help.

More than territorial, Asmo is possessive. He doesn't want you to leave his side, sometimes with his siblings too. If he smells a scent of someone else in his tribe, good luck to that individual.

Asmo doesn't have pre-heat, you'll just wake up one day with all your clothes gone and you'll know it's started.

Asmo's diet during its cycle is varied, although its consumption increases, ranging from fresh meat, fluids of all kinds, to poisonous substances such as flowers, mushrooms or other live animals. Be sure to allow some time to pass before he kisses or bites you.

If you get him a rare poisonous plant, he will be happy and content.

He can talk normally, but he will also make clicking sounds to indicate his mood.

Lots of pheromones, Asmo produces lots and lots of pheromones during his period, pheromones that he will use to mark his territory. Often his siblings can't be near him. You don't have that problem

Asmo is very needy to contact, hug him, give him kisses, caress his wings, his hair. He will be happy to let you.

And he will return the gesture, he will bite you too (always have your first aid kit handy). He will always try to be on top of you or for you to be on top of him.

Asmo's courtship consists of exsivating while performing a dance (like scorpions), this dance is complex and elaborate, and during it he releases a large amount of pheromones.

He gets very confused when you don't react to it, Asmo I'm sorry but I can't smell your pheromones, sometimes he even gets sad.

His senses are very developed, especially his sense of smell, which is more developed than any of his siblings. Make sure the flowers in his room are enchanted so that they don't emit odour and with perfumes and other fragranced products the same or he can get hurt.

Asmo's temperature will generally drop, but he will go through periods of very high fever (due to his sin) which will leave him tired.

During fever peaks he will become very active, and will devote most of his time to courting. To balance this out you will have to COURT him yourself, you'd better improve that dance.

Because of his temperature, he will spend most of his time hiding in the burrow, demanding your cuddles.

He purrs? , yes, in an adorable and soft way. It is easy to make him purr, with a simple praise.

Asmo: Kiss? *with Mc sitting on his lap*

Mc: Not yet Asmo.

Asmo: *with teary eyes* Don't you love me anymore?

Mc: *sighing* Asmo, my life, my heart, you just ate three nightshade roots.

Asmo: *almost crying* And?

Mc: I love you very much but I also want to live.

Asmo: My nose itches.

Mc: Wait a bit longer, I'm finishing enchanting the flowers.

Asmo: *sad * It would be less trouble to remove them…

Mc: But you like them, don't you?

Asmo: Mc..

Mc: *hugging him* I'm here to help you and to make you comfortable, if you like the flowers, the flowers stay.

Asmo: Love you so much!

Asmo: *dancing with a very high fever*

Mc: Asmo, you are so beautiful… you can rest now.

Asmo: *staring at them non-stop*

Mc: *blushing while standing up * You leave me no choice *starts dancing and grabs Asmo by the waist*

Asmo: ?! Are you courting me?! * excited*

Mc: *Grabbing him in their arms to take him to rest* Yup, it worked?.

Asmo: I'm all yours, Mc, from the beginning…

Beel

Light is not a problem for him, although he prefers darkness.

During his period, the exoskeleton hardens and plates of it appear all over his body, and his horns become iridescent.

In addition, its wings become ribbed in a pattern, which at first glance is very beautiful. The more complex the pattern, the more attractive it is. You always see his wings as beautiful, but you agree with him, Beel deserves it.

He does a lot of grooming, which is lovely to see, because Beel is a bit clumsy and needs constant help, he has been injured a few times and you don't want that to happen again.

There are some flies and other insects that lay their nests underground. In Beel's case he has a small gallery dug in the garden, which he uses for storage too.

Beel at the beginning of the cycle may be in the house, but as he progresses he will be in his gallery.

More than territorial, he becomes protective of you and his siblings (he once kidnapped Luke), so when he is in his gallery he feels bad, because his desire to protect them is crushed by his need to be hidden.

Beel has a very marked pre-heat, in which he accumulates large quantities of food in his small cave and his appetite doubles. All the inhabitants of the house join in at this time to cook.

In contrast, during his period of heat his activity is reduced and his appetite decreases, this does not mean that he does not eat, he eats more often but in much smaller quantities and from storage (food that does not spoil).

He will insist on feeding you constantly, prepare indigestion medicine, you will need it.

Beel becomes totally non-verbal, be prepared to become an interpreter, he communicates with grunts, clicks and buzzes his wings.

Lots of buzzing, it's not the first time you've been hit by his wings, with the different buzzes he makes all sorts of claims and they have a high communicative range, you'll just need some time to figure it out.

His pheromones are strong, and he will mark, although he does it unconsciously.

As I said, he likes to have his family around him, but when he can't, anxiety takes over, vibration and physical contact calms him down. The easiest thing to do is to lay him on your chest and talk to him while stroking his hair or wings.

Beel's courtship is complex, first he feels the need to prove he can be a good provider, so he will constantly enlarge and improve his gallery.

And then there is the display of his wings, patterning and rhythmic, synchronised movements and buzzes to impress you.

He sleeps more than usual, will want you to sleep in his arms, and usually does so perched on one of his walls, hopefully you won't develop vertigo….

His senses are not as sharp as those of his siblings, but he becomes much more agile and has much better reflexes.

Beel's temperature increases, due to the continuous movement of his wings (insects produce a lot of heat when flying), but when he is at rest he tends to cool down.

Beel's purr is a mixture of a buzz and a vibration, he will purr when he is calm and content.

Beel was a little worried about how you might react because many humans detest insects. Be sure to praise his wings and other attributes, because this demon is adorable.

Mc: So this is your lair?

Beel: Yes… I decided to keep it from period to period to not destroy the garden…

Mc: I think it's very practical!!! It must be very cool in summer.

Beel: Do you really think so?

Mc: Yes, and cosy too, you're an artist Beel.

Beel: *smiling as he blushes*

Beel: *grunts*

Mc: Beel I can't take anymore…

Beel: *holding out a piece of fruit to them* *buzz*

Mc: Really Beel, I'm going to explode…

Beel: !! *hugging them*

Mc: It's a figure of speech… but can you eat my share… please.

Mc: *sleeping hugging Beel in one of the corners of his gallery*

Beel: *caressing them with his cheek*

Mc: It's all right Beel?

Beel: *crackling with worry*

Mc: Don't worry... Lucifer is with them… and the others will take care of Lucifer for you.

Beel: …*cradling them adoringly*

Mc: And I'll take care of you, so rest…

.

.

.

If you have made it this far thanks you 🩷

[screeching-bunny]

may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

[b00tyliciousbabe]

da vinci

pairing: dacre montgomery x male reader

summary: just the actor fawning over the abundance in your cultural capital.

request: @gayaristocrat YOU ARE THE VISUSLS BBY! thanks sm for your patience, plus the anon who also requested a while back, i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing.

notes: happy pride! after FINALLY handing in my art coursework, this is my projection onto the character of the reader. never will i ever pick up another paintbrush - well…also officially finished my exams now so i am a slut for y’all’s requests! flood my inbox (but more importantly my hole) xx

song rec: naomi sharon - definition of love

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

dating dacre was nothing short of a dream. he always made you feel so at ease. he loved how creative you were - the perfect match to his inner theatre kid. taking him to fashion exhibitions + poetry slams, and the actor inviting you to theatre shows, seeing the world through each others’ eyes made the time together even more precious. you first met at a ballet show. he had been dragged to see it by a few of his castmates, but was more so enjoying the bts view of you with the dancers. you were backstage fitting all the dancers and making sure they were all comfortable in what you styled. he managed to peek behind the curtain and saw your beautiful, so focused on draping the fabric of the lead’s skirt.

fuck, you were fine.

but he didn’t think much of it, just some cute guy, with beautiful eyes, who probably had a boyfriend. he took his seat and watched it with his friends. one of them was engaged to one of the dancers and so took dacre to the dressing rooms after the show. after introducing the two of you, y’all were practically drooling over each other. barely a word was said between you, but your hearts’ communicated greater feelings than mere speech ever could. they say love at first sight is something for the big screen, but your initial encounter rivalled the biggest stories of romance any writer could ever craft.

from that night, you practically were together, with the tabloids plastering the two of you holding hands, yachting in capri. the pop culture side of twitter was OBSESSED with your relationship to the actor and was in constant awe with how perfect you guys were for each other.

y/nsupremacy: you guys make my heart smile

user111: they’d make such cute babies

dacrefanclub6: sexiest couple on the internet

there was even a time where he had to do a nude scene in an upcoming blockbuster and the whole world saw how much your man was packing. in his press tour, the panel of interviewers didn’t shy away from your bf’s HUGE deal, some even made inappropriate comments.

‘god bless bottoms like y/n, he be taking that shit better than a pornstar’

‘poor y/n, how does that thing even fit?’

‘checks out…big booty bitches y/n deserves to be fucked by hung men.’

dacre was afraid that you would feel uncomfortable with the constant media comments on your thickness, but he had nothing to fear. you embraced it, you were said to have the best bod in fashion. as much as he tried to keep his life with you private, he lowkey wanted to let the world know that how much of a good boy you were for him.

dacre: ‘in all fairness i ain’t had any complaints from him so…’

dacre: ‘but…our neighbours definitely hate us.’ he remarks with a devilish grin.

everyone was rooting for your relationship, and what better way to show this than him enlisting the joint troops of your fandoms to surprise you whilst you were working in paris. he had gotten some time away from filming and decided to come and visit your atelier in paris. sprawled out on your desk, with needles and materials adorning the creative canvas of the room, he saw you hard at work. with the same vein poking through your forehead as the first time he laid eyes on your angelic physique, he could’ve fallen in love all over again.

‘hey babe’ he came up to you with flowers. ‘you look ravishing tonight’ rolling his r’s with a tenacity that made you smile. his tone always made you feel so safe.

‘i ain’t even dressed yet,’ you protest, dusting off the loose threads and sequins from your sweats. ‘you’re beautiful in whatever you wear,’ coming closer and gripping underneath your butt, ‘even prettier with less on.’ dacre quips as his lips tickle your ear.

‘dacre stop,’ you laugh out. ‘that giggle of yours is so infectious.’ he crashes his lips into you, the flowers dropping haphazardly onto the desk as he pushed his tongue deeper.

he was wearing the blazer you had designed for his birthday last year, paired with a pendant necklace with the first initial of your name on it. he looked so sexy. ‘can’t seem to keep my hands off off of you.’ he breathed, nudging his jacket off.

‘nuh uh, we have dinner reservations.’ nudging him away.

‘fuck. why’d you gotta be so damn sexy?’ he sounded aggravated but you pecked him again, ‘don’t worry, i am all yours tonight.’

taking you to the balcony of a quaint, parisian bistro, the chill of the capital’s air made the two of you even more enamoured, your hearts burning passionately. whilst eating, you got some sauce on the corner of your lips, as he pushes it back into your mouth. ‘gotta get you used to the feeling of a foreign object in your mouth before tonight, don’t i?’ dacre always loved being dirty in public and you made sure to satiate his exhibitionist kink.

after many glasses of wine, you made your way to the louvre. with your many contacts you managed to snag an after hours tour - solo. you were much more of a lightweight than your boyfriend (the man could drink like a pirate and be even more chipper than before) and you couldn’t walk in a straight line for more than a few metres. he let you go so he could see your figure and admire it from afar, but as soon as he saw you stumble, dacre’s hand on your waist guided you to safety and sobriety.

y’all ran throughout the museum, finally landing and kissing in front of the mona lisa. it was such a picturesque moment. the taxi ride back to the hotel was such a fever dream, y’all were all over each other, your chauffeur knew well to close the barrier and give you two some alone time.

‘have i ever told you how beautiful you are?’ he says slurring his speech.

‘tell me again…’ you implored.

‘the most beautiful boy in the world.’ he reassured, pulling you in as the city of paris lit up, illuminating your eyes.

you called him an ‘eager beaver’ as dacre stumbled the two of you into the hotel you were staying at. he grunts between kisses,‘you know you love me.’ serving you with another peck. he stripped your clothes as you followed suit with his own, leaving a chasm of fabric in the corner of the room.

only your shared jewellery was left to remove. you fell back seductively onto the mattress. as dacre crawled on top of you with a dark lust growing in his eyes, you pulled him by the pendant around his neck.

the muscular man laid atop of you, placing each hand on the bed at dip of your waist, using his palms as a fulcrum to steady himself. you glanced down to see the light reflecting off his abs as they danced on the curves of your body.

‘you’re so beautiful.’ he whispered, kissing your cheek and cupping your face.

he lifted himself from your figure, grabbing your thighs and placing your feet at either side of his head.

kissing your legs softly ‘so fucking soft.’ he moaned into your skin. his dick was throbbingly red, precum glazing his cock as he slowly thigh fucked you. he folded his arms around your plush knees, and kept that pace, your fingers grazing his cock head each time it escaped the warm walls of your inner thighs. to your annoyance, he kept this up for what felt like forever. halting, you felt his rock length graze your hole.

‘dacre, put it in already!’ you said with overstimulated passion, earning a snicker from your boyfriend.

knowing that you were beginning to grow impatient, he caresses the flesh of your abdomen. ‘look who’s eager now?’ he smirked.

shut up,’ stroking his happy trail with an endearment. you looked up at him and bit your lip. ‘I need you, please.’ his mouth agape at you ‘of course baby.’

he laced his fingers into yours. rocking slowly into you. his huge dick stretching you out slowly as the the dimly lit room made his ash blue eyes appear dark with lust.

‘fuck, have i missed this pussy’ rhetorically muttering. dacre began whispering sweet nothings into your ear:

‘you’re doing so well.’

‘taking it like my good little boy aren’t you?’

he made you so hot. lifting himself onto his toes, he angled himself directly into you, placing his entire weight on you. fucking down into your hole, your boyfriend was hitting nerves that had been neglected in his absence.

your sphincter began tightening around him, dacre knew what this meant - your release would soon follow. he started kissing your neck, and circled your left nipple with his thumb, goading your orgasm out of you as he started drilling a bit faster. dacre chased his own high begging you to finish with him whilst slurring his words.

‘take it, baby it’s all yours. UGHHHHH’ he busted strongly inside you. his big balls slapped at your butt one last time, reassuring both of you that he had seeded you deeply. you came all over his chest, as he chuckled.

‘love it when you paint me, that’s that sexy shit i like.’ he praised giving you an eskimo kiss to calm you from my high.

‘y/n,’ he whispered, big spooning you.

‘what’s wrong baby?’ you sounded concerned, cradling his hand.

‘nothing love, i just,’ he paused hesitantly.

you turned back to face him. ‘what is it? you know you can tell me anything.’

‘I just need you to know how much i missed you,’

‘oh dacre, you already did an amazing job showing me.’ You joke ‘I feel so…enlightened right now.’

he lets out a sad deep chuckle, turning to him and stroking his cheek ‘I missed you too.’

he gripped your waist, taking your words as a source of comfort. pushing his tongue down your throat.

‘ready for round two,’ you say, massaging his dick with your palm, getting him ready.

‘always.’ he affirms, spanking your ass and turning you over. the first round was very much for your pleasure and to let you know that he had truly craved your body.

but seeing your coke bottle body all splayed out for him? it was here that dacre’s beast was awoken.

‘ass up for me baby.’ he said guiding you to a more comfortable position. he massaged your thick cheeks and started eating you out. his large hands looked abysmally small in comparison to how juicy your ass was.

‘I ain’t gonna show you any mercy this time, you know the safe word, but i don’t think we’ll be needing it.’ he muttered, kissing down your spine before impaling you.

‘shitttt dacre, slow down.’

‘shut the fuck up and take that shit like the pretty, little cockwhore you are.’ dacre degraded, knowing how much you loved his dom/aggressive nature almost as much as his softer side.

dacre began going ham on your poor hole. he stood up as he began pulling you into him from the edge of the bed. with one hand crossed against your cheek and the other in his hair, he had to compose himself - else he come to quickly.

he fucked into you at a painfully quick pace, but it felt so good having him take control. dacre slutted you out almost unconscious for a bit and you were brought back to earth as he hit your second hole.

‘fuck baby,’ ‘I will never get tired of that ass.’ he said watching your thickness bounce against his abs. you started becoming more active, pushing back onto him for a heightened pleasure.

‘shake it for daddy, theeeere ya go, that’s MY shit baby. FUUUUUUUCK.’

‘oh god, your dick is so good, dacre.’ you moan out , which is enough to send him over the edge.

he came as your ass halted at his base. tightenibg around him he started breathing falteringly. ‘baby d-don’t do that, shiiiiit.’ he started leaking like a faucet. trying to thrust inside with some rhythm (to no avail), he collapsed on top of you.

‘I love you so much.’ you say breathlessly.

‘the feeling is so mutual babe.’ he kissed into your skin.

‘y/n, you’re so fucking wet,’ he spoke under his breath. still inside that filled pussy of yours, his cum and your slick provided a juicy lubricant. as he pulled out, the cum oozing out of your wrecked hole pooled into his pubes and on the duvet cover. the two of you were completely oblivious to the mess, and cuddled in the filth you’d created - a filth you were looking forward to adding to in the morning.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@ghostking4m

@lysanderplume

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ a sick baby Headcanons and Imagines list

Am I back with the Dad!Ghost content? You know damn well I am, also yes the render I used is courtesy of our beloved @ave661 who's most definitely annoyed by my existence by now for constantly tagging her.

Will I ever stop writing Dad!Ghost? Fuck no, why? Daddy issues and baby fever, if you want anyone to blame, it's those two. And yes, I will be upset if this doesn't do well. (AHEM, MY SOAP POST)

Taglist of who I this would enjoy this and requested: @puff0o0, @blingblong55, @cutenote, @wise-owl and @connorsui. This last creator by far has given me the best fucking commentary on my work and I have more works on and coming about Dad!Ghost, genuinely thank you so freaking much, you made me cry 😭.

I'M BACK! Let's start, shall we?

❥ Dad!Simon who's a very nervous first time father, well there's a first for everything and so is the first time your guys' baby got sick.

❥ Dad!Simon who immediately got them a check up, it was a common flu. Naturally medication and antibiotics were prescripted.

❥ Dad!Simon whose heart melts once he hears the soft whimpers of discomfort of the little on as they stir in the crib. The soft raspy cries and flushed chubby cheeks and warm, almost burning temperature.

❥ Dad!Simon who is trying his hardest not to look back the car seat when you were on your way to the clinic, to check on the baby whose little cheeks are bouncing a bit while being entertained by their pacifier, the little cooling patch on their head making their forehead crinkle a bit.

❥ Dad!Simon who was amused by how talkative the little one still is despite being so drowsy and in pain. Babbling their little heart out while sniffling.

"Dada!" the little on calls for Simon, almost in a screaming manner if it wasn't for the poor little thing's scratchy and sore throat.

They let out incoherent babbles to Simon as if trying to tell him something, as if they're chatting like they used to, the only adjustments being the constant sniffles and coughs. Them being reduced to their clogged nose while trying so hard to communicate. (Here's your visual)

Simon took the warm baby bottle from your hands to feed the little one.

"Bee, slow down.." A new nickname picked up by Simon to give to your little one, bumblebee, trying to tell them to slow down from chugging.

❥ Dad!Simon who never thought the baby wouldn't get any more clingy, at least not until they got sick. Constantly asking for "dada" and "mama" while he goes on about his day trying to help his wife, you, to keep up with the chores around the house.

❥ Dad!Simon who feels a bit guilty because he loves the comfort he's able to provide the baby, especially that they're not comfortable and less than happy with the sickness. Having the baby on his chest, patting their fragile back gently with a hand that's almost bigger than their body as their dad's heartbeat lulls them to sleep despite being irritable the whole day.

❥ Dad!Simon who joins in when the baby entertains themselves while playing with the various rattles and teething toys.

Bumblebee shaking the tiny rattle, a bit in frustration, knocking their self back. Luckily Simon had intense reflexes and managed to slip his hand in time between the cushioned but still quite hard floor and the baby's tiny head.

Simon let out a breath of relief, "You sure know how to scare me, don't you bee?"

The baby let out a strained giggle as their dad guided them to sit back up by their head and back.

❥ Dad!Simon who slightly chuckles when the baby's breathing starts picking up, their lips trembling into a pout, little doe eyes starting to get glassy from the tears forming with a pitched whimper, only to be silenced by a kiss from both you and Simon. The toll of the sickness only ever being reduced with yours and his affection.

❥ Dad!Simon who tries his best to make the baby take the prescripted medicine, that baby did NOT like the taste of it and he had to resort to sneaking it in their food to hide the taste of the bitter syrup.

❥ Dad!Simon who makes the little one blow their tiny nose.

"Come on pumpkin, copy dada okay?" Simon whispers while exhaling loudly out his nose, careful with the baby's sensitive ears.

The sleepy eyes of the little one trailing on him, trying to observe and copy, blowing their nose on the soft wipes Simon held against their nose.

After wiping it, Simon noticed how their nose now unclogged helped they sleep far more easier and with less frustration from them.

Shout out to a very consistent person who has been liking all the things I post despite them not being actual content @poohkie90 <3

Also I had no idea @simp4konig and I were mutuals, I'M FANGIRLING SO HARD WHEN I SAW THE LIKED POST NOTIF.

Sidenote: I'm sick rn y'all, like it just kept on coming. First was my period, then next thing I knew my nose is clogged and I'm sniffling, then the next I'm coughing and sneezing. There's so much blood rn I can't even. I don't feel good at all but I'm pushing through. Apologies if this was shorter than most if you expected from me, I wanted to elaborate on this prompt however I don't have much ideas so I'm sorry to disappoint.

[swiftlyinlove]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.

warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??

word count: approximately 4.5k

a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.

The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.

To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.

Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.

That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.

Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time. 

The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different. 

When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.

You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.

Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”

You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile. 

And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old. 

That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).

So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.

Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.

Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.

This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.

You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.

While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little. 

This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.

Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.

It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season. 

It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.

But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.

That thought haunted you for the entire week.

Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.

You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.

However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.

“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone. 

Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”

His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.

Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.

“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.

While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.

“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”

Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.

Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.

Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.

You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.

Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.

Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”

Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.

Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.

“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call. 

“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”

All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”

“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”

Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.

At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone. 

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”

This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”

“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”

“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.

“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.

You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”

“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”

“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”

“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.

“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”

Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.

“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind. 

“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”

Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell. 

Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special.  You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him. 

You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.

It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.

His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.

He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.

It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.

You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.

How could he have not fallen for you after all that? 

But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.

When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.

And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.

He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together. 

What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence. 

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again. 

After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”

Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”

Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.

Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.

He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”

Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.

Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.

Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.

“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his. 

Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it.  I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.

“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear. 

He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”

You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd. 

You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.

“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”

You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”

“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”

He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.

“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.

“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 

He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”

Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”

Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”

You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”

“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter. 

Well, maybe this Christmas time

You'll finally realize

That I could be the one

To give you everything you want

[elseishollow]

you’ve awakened my love for nate archibald i swear 🥹

i was wondering if you could write something for him with love languages? like what you think his would be, when showing love or receiving it, or just whatever comes to mind if you’d like to write something like that! <3

hi, thank you so much! nice to know the nate archibald propaganda is working.

✶┈ HCS | LOVE LANGUAGES — NATE ARCHIBALD

• nate. he’s quite easy on the eyes but there isn’t a whole lot going on upstairs. however, if it’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s the language of touch

• it’s an instinct for him and frankly, if we’re being honest here, he communicates love through touch like it's his native tongue

• he will seek any and every excuse under the sun just to feel the warmth of your skin against his

• "here, hold my hand. It's cold.”

• “nate, it’s literally 90 degrees out.”

• “oh sure, blame it on the weather.”

• trust he WILL use any pretext to bridge the physical distance between you

• growing up in a repressive environment, nate learned to express his love through physical gestures rather than words. It's in the way he pulls you into a hug after a long day or rests his hand on your knee under the table

• there’s times where he’ll notice how down you’re feeling with literally one singular glance and he’ll just embrace you while he’s reassuring you with sweet nothings, consecutively telling you, “it’s okay”

• for quite some time. more than he’d like to admit

• he just wants you to be okay! he’s doesn’t like to see you sad, at all. he acts as if he’s just been wounded if you happen to be.

• quality. time. he’s more keen on quality more than quantity.

• cooking together, walking in central park together, reading together, studying together (which is more yapping than studying tbh) and so on

• as for receiving love, it isn’t exactly nate's forte, but when it comes to you, he's like a lovesick puppy in need of affection

• he craves your affection just as much as he gives it

• and when you look into his eyes, you see nothing but pure adoration staring back at you

• granted he’s had his heart broken before, nate tends to build walls around himself to guard himself from the pain of rejection and disappointment

• he can be hesitant.. and second guess everything.. and doubt himself.. and also overthink everything..

• BUT!

• with you, it's different. your love has a way of breaking down those walls, brick by brick, until there's nothing left but the raw, truth of his heart

• there are moments when his longing is so palpable, you can practically feel it in the air

• “if you don’t kiss me right now, I might actually die”

• but his other love language definitely lies in words of affirmation

• oh, brother

• "i’m not staring, i’m admiring”

• his heart spills over with praise and admiration for you, often beyond measure. he has this habit of gushing uncontrollably about you to anyone who will listen—be it his family, friends, or even strangers. they have all fall victim to some extent

• there was one time where he considered buying you flowers and ended up going on a tangent about every aspect he finds fit about you

• the poor florist could barely get a word in edgewise, they were undoubtedly relieved to see him finally leave their shop

• but who could blame him?? he adores you! loves you, even! it’s in his nature

• in short, he loves you, dearly. and he’ll makes sure you know it.

notes; I wrote this in a hurry, i’m sorry. I hope you like it!

[gamblersdoll]

Heyyy! i want to start off by saying as a fellow black girl i love how you not only use your platform to write smuts but also to spread awareness and speak upon what happens in our community I really appreciate it🩷🩷 since requests are open temporarily i was wondering if i can get more bakugo x black reader where we ride himm i don't know i have a thing for whinyy lowkey subby bakugo and you write him so gooddd😩😩😩😩😫😫😫

thank you baby. nsfw, bottom bakugou, riding.

“baby, baby, baby..” he babbles, it was a long day for him. it’s obviously too hot, too needing of his job, and most importantly, his urges.

you rode him so good, humping away all of his troubles and bouncing his mind numb. he was so tired, his eyes roll back and hes got such a runny, red nose.

“hm?” you coo, hands gliding up and down his chest. your hips slow, and he exasperates.

“no—fuck, please, mama.” he whines, hands gripping your thighs. “please dont stop, go faster..”

you nod, kissing his cheek and forcing your hips to go up, then down on his cock faster. “like this, kats?” he nods, and squeezes his eyes shut as tears dribble down his cheeks. “oh, poor baby.”

hes got to be so sleepy and needy, his moans turn to pants as he grips your hips and push pulls you back and forth. “god— haa..!” he swallows his thick spit, “comin—“

he whimpers, pulling your hips down and stilling your body as he tries to collect himself.

tries, but its hard for him.

and you know hes such a dork, crawling off of his body to lie next to him and kiss his knuckles.

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (05/10)

Ocean's Whisper

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: non-communication, misunderstandings and bad times happen at Crown's, which will make or break your situation with with a certain rich boy.

words: 11.7k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hello! I hope everyone is well 🤗 i had a lot of fun writing this chapter, the writing was easy and i'm very happy with the result. I really loved this chapter and I hope you love it too.

and also, please comment, let me know your comments, and reblog for the story to be more recognized, please 🙏🏻thank you so much for reading and enjoy it!

warnings: language, angst, Floris.

After that kiss in the ocean, you haven't stopped thinking about Aemond Targaryen for a single moment.

The feeling and the more than detailed memories are still fresh in your mind. The way he held you, the way he looked at you and the way he kissed you, remembering every movement of his lips and his big hands on your waist, marking your skin underwater.

Even at work, in every move and every thing you do right there, you do it thinking of him and only him.

And before you go to sleep, you go back to the same thing, remembering the way you both were clinging to each other, in a slow, passionate kiss as you stare at the ceiling of your room with your headphones listening to music.

You can't help it, it's more than clear.

And the urgency along with the excitement of telling Alysanne everything from the beginning until now, grows more and more with each passing moment.

But it's been four days since that night and you haven't heard anything from him.

After the fireworks were over, both pulled apart from one and the other to return to the beach. And neither of you mentioned anything about what happened, you just went back to sitting by the fire to dry off, watching the ocean, the sky and nothing else.

Even though the two of you didn't talk much afterwards, it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, but you could feel how he was thinking about it just like you were.

And because you can't try to tell what he was probably feeling from his expression, you still didn't feel any kind of regret. Because you didn't feel regret at any point.

But now that the two of you haven't spoken again, you're slowly doubting that it was a good idea.

You even thought of texting him, just to know if he is okay, but if you had told Alysanne, you could already hear her scolding or advice as she likes to call it, telling you that if he hasn't talked to you, it's because he doesn't want to and you won't be the first one to look for him.

Honestly you are one of those girls who have the thought that girls can also take the first step without leaving it all to the men, but... sometimes.

And now is not one of those 'sometimes'.

Because you've done the math and... you mean... Aemond Targaryen and you? The richest guy in all of Crown's with you? A poor one?

Maybe it's your fault for getting your hopes up for a simple kiss, maybe at the time he didn't regret it but now that days have passed, he must already think about it and that's why he hasn't contacted you... because it was a mistake.

Who rich guy would want to be with you? And of all guys, precisely him?

It's basically a forbidden law among guys and girls your age that a rich guy and a poor girl can't be friends, but now a couple? It's even more scandalous and impossible.

Maybe what happened between him and you was due to the emotion of the moment. And although his relationship with Floris is neither reciprocal nor true, the reality is clear and you don't compete with her for all that she can offer Aemond.

Now you know that the relationships among Crown's are rarely not convenient but that's how they have to be. And you have nothing to offer or share with Aemond.

However... you have the small hope.

The hope that he will seek you out and tell you to meet him at the pier. The hope that he doesn't think it was a mistake. And the hope that there are no regrets.

But the days continue to pass, there is no signal from him and you keep your same routine as always, disappointed and foolishly watching your phone waiting for a text from him. But nothing.

And the kiss won't leave your mind.

"Hurry up, Blackwood. Table three and four."

Mr. Frey says to you from the cash register, watching you with a serious, annoyed look on his face, wishing you were some kind of super human so you could do everything he ask's at the same time.

You avoid rolling your eyes and giving him an ungraceful look, as you're annoyed enough to have to put up with it, but quickly grab your pad and pen to head over to the new customers.

One thing you like about your job is that it keeps your mind busy most of the day. Sometimes the hours go by fast and sometimes not so fast. But you prefer this to overthinking most of the time.

So the minutes tick by, you find yourself taking orders, when suddenly, voices and giggles that you know very well enter the restaurant and catch your attention.

You part your lips and look towards the doors, where you see Floris and Cassandra Baratheon with Cerelle and Tyshara Lannister. But that's not the worst part, the worst part is that Aemond enters behind Floris with an expressionless but almost bored look on his face.

'Great.'

You think instantly, feeling the bitterness but also the nerves completely invade you as well as the memories intensify more at that moment as you bite your inner cheek and only pray it's not your turn to ask them for the order.

But it's not in your favor, as Alysanne is busy writing down orders and immediately Mr. Frey's menacing gaze lands on you.

"Blackwood!"

'Fuck.'

You feel yourself become small in your place and nerves invade your whole body, feeling your hands and legs begin to tremble.

'Oh God'.

You think completely terrified, then steel yourself with a bit of courage, take a deep breath and head towards them with the best look possible and already mentalizing yourself not to stare at him too much.

And pretend that you don't care at all about what happened between the two of them just like he does.

The four girls let out a too outrageous laugh that intimidates you as you start to approach, seeing their impeccable and expensive outfits, besides those accessories that scream all in them money.

But Aemond stands out more.

And it bothers you how damn good he looks with those sunglasses now on his forehead and his typical silver chain peeking out between the collar of his black t-shirt.

You start praying again and finally reach his table.

"Welcome to the Lord of the Crossing, what can I get you?"

You feel his gaze instantly on you but you remain firmly in watching your pad and occasionally them, but you don't watch him.

"I'll have a burger without fries and an iced tea," Cassandra speaks and you quickly write it down, "I don't want to eat any seafood today," she tells her friends.

"For me it would be shrimp broth," Cerelle then says.

Then the others go on telling you and you continue to write it down, though you don't miss Aemond's gaze on you and also her's... Floris.

You watch her back for a second and see how she watches you attentively, with a small amused smile on her lips. But you look away when they continue to tell you what they want to eat.

"Are you going to order a burger too?" asks Cassandra to Floris.

"Ew, no," he says with a disgusted face, "Do you know how many calories that has?"

"And what are you going to order? Salmon toast?"

"Are you crazy? I'm not eating any of that, so gross."

She tells her still disgusted and you don't understand her attitude or her behavior at all. But she clearly has no manners and saying such a thing, where the whole restaurant can hear her, is disrespectful.

"I'll have a sushi, with seaweed and no tampico, please," she says and you write it down.

But you don't miss the way she said it either, so polite and sweet, which is rare. But you ignore her and then turn slightly to Aemond, who is the only one left to order, but you don't look directly at him, you just wait for him to order.

"Just a soda, please."

'May the sound of his voice not affect you.'

You instantly say to yourself as you write it down and are about to ask if that will be all, when Floris' delicate and tender voice speaks first.

"Aren't you going to eat anything, babe? Are you feeling well?" she says worriedly, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'm fine," he replies in a completely different tone of voice than hers.

You press your lips and watch them all with your best look.

"That would be all?"

They all confirm yes and you walk away from there as if they have a contagious disease, really hoping they won't stay long.

You give the new orders to the cooks and clear the unoccupied tables for the next customers. You try not to look in their direction, just keeping busy with your work.

Then Alysanne appears and you point your gaze towards her table, where the Baratheon's and Lannister's are, to which she makes an annoyed face that makes you chuckle under your breath, and then you both continue working.

Then you finish delivering some orders when you see out of the corner of your eye how Aemond get's up and heads for the bathroom, so you quickly turn your back on him and put more distance between you and him.

When you are called to deliver the ready orders.

You place almost everything on a tray and head towards the table, more confident because Aemond is not with them, although you know he may appear at any moment, so you try to be as quick as possible.

You give their dishes first to the Lannister's, then to Cassandra and finally to Floris, and then tell them that you will bring them their drinks right away.

And just when you come back with the drinks, Aemond also goes to the table almost at the same time as you, so once again, you try to be quick and repeat the same process, first to the Lannister's, then to the Baratheon's and finally to him.

But just as you place his soda in front of him, Floris speaks. Or rather shouts.

"Hey you," she says, annoyed, towards you, "What the hell is this?"

'Uh oh.'

The voice in your head tells you and you watch as she shows you her sushi rolls.

"I told you I wanted sushi without seaweed and look what you brought me."

You frown and despite your nerves, which are on edge, you defend yourself with the nicest tone possible even though you would also like to talk to her the same way she is talking to you.

"Excuse me, but you specifically asked for it with seaweed," you say, remembering.

"Are you deaf? Or are your ears dirty or something? I'm telling you that I asked for it without seaweed."

"Floris," Aemond says next to her, looking at her seriously.

"What?" she says defensively, "It's not my fault she doesn't know how to do her job well."

"I can bring you where I write down the orders to show you where it says you ordered the sushi with seaweed," you suggest.

But the nerves and humiliation is great as everyone at the table is watching you, especially him and some customers from other tables around.

"Well, clearly you wrote wrong so take this away, will you? And bring me my order just like I asked you to," she says looking at you completely annoyed and folding her arms.

"Is there a problem here?"

'Oh, oh, again.'

Mr. Frey appears and you feel like you're going to die. Just as you can already anticipate all the stress and exhaustion you'll have to go through to make up for this.

But you're absolutely sure she ordered that seaweed sushi. You must have figured something like this would happen, though.

"Yes, your incompetent waitress here doesn't know how to write down the orders as we asked."

"But you ordered the sushi with seaweed," you explain, clearly offended by her words.

"Y/N," Mr. Frey's serious, restrained voice and his hand on your shoulder makes you tense up, "Go and bring her her food just as she asked. Now."

Resigned, you are left only to obey and completely embarrassed, you make your way towards her, stepping past Aemond to take the plate.

And once you have it in your hands, just as you take the first step, you clearly see how Floris slyly sticks her foot in you and as if this couldn't get any worse, you fall and the food lands on Cassandra and Cerelle's clothes.

"Oh my God!"

"Oh you idiot, look what you've done!" cries Cerelle in horror, jumping to her feet.

"Can't you do anything right!?"

Worried, embarrassed and nervous you quickly stand up, apologizing, but Mr. Frey immediately comes to your side with restrained fury.

"I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose," you try to defend yourself, "She stuck her foot in me!" you point at Floris.

"Stop embarrassing me and get the hell out of here, Y/N."

You look at him completely shocked, not expecting to hear those words, starting to feel the urge to cry.

"Yes, get out, that I didn't do anything to you," Floris corroborates, "That's how you treat customers here? Without serving them properly and accusing them with lies?"

"Will you stop?" you hear Aemond's voice also with restrained fury.

With your lips trembling, feeling all eyes on you, you hold back the urge to cry and quickly walk away from there, where on the way Alysanne stops you, annoyed and worried, but you tell her not to worry and head for your things, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

Once you leave the restaurant, the area and Crown's to finally enter Black Waves, you finally allow yourself to cry in freedom.

And when you get home, your uncle and aunt are there and are confused to see you come home so early, so you tell them about what happened.

Crying again from the rage, with all the anger and humiliation coursing through your veins as you tell them that none of what happened was your fault.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," your aunt embraces you in a warm hug as you let it all out, clinging to her, "Nothing that happened was your fault, sweetheart. Nothing."

And your Uncle Ben is looking upset and thoughtful, unable to believe everything he just heard.

"That fucking ungrateful Frey," he says annoyed, "All of them, rotting in money and having no values, treating the people who do everything for them like that," he points at you, "If I didn't have a job to lose, I'd smash the son of a bitch's face in this instant."

"Ben," your aunt gently reprimands him, still hugging you.

"Look how he's dropped our girl!"

He says incredulously, pointing his hand at you.

"Humiliating her in front of all those people and not giving her the benefit of the doubt to give the reason to all those fucking arrogant rich people who make your life impossible for not being like them."

You sniffle and turn away from your aunt, wiping away your tears and trying to calm yourself.

"It's okay," you say in a broken voice.

"No, it's not okay. Nothing they do in there is okay," your uncle insists.

"I'll just... look for another job," you say, "After all, I couldn't stand to be working at that place anymore. Maybe... this that happened was a good thing so I could find something else."

"No, honey. Having to go through that humiliation was not good," your aunt tells you in a soft tone, "That was very wrong of them and you didn't deserve that."

"Yes but already happened," you say without emotion, "It doesn't matter anymore."

Just then, the door opens and the three of you see Alysanne entering the house, worried.

"What are you doing here?" you ask her instantly confused.

"Did Mr. Frey do something to you too?" her mom asks her.

"No, I quit," she says simply, setting her backpack down.

"What? Why?" you ask her in surprise.

"Why?" she repeats incredulously, as if it wasn't obvious, "You still ask?"

"You didn't have to do that, Anne."

"Of course I did. It was only a matter of time," she says as she approaches you.

"But the money—

"Fuck the money. We'll find another job," she interrupts you then hugs you, "I'm so sorry."

You let out a long breath and hug her back.

"What did Mr. Frey tell you?"

"He was obviously upset," she tells you as she pulls away, "I told him what he did was wrong. That there are cameras and he can see what really happened. But he basically didn't give a shit to give the stupid of Floris the reason to make himself look good to his father."

Uncle Ben let's out a snort.

"Typical."

"Then I told him I was quitting and he kind of got worried, then he tried to convince me to convince you to come back so we could both keep working because we are the only ones who have endured him for so long, but I sent him to go fuck himself as well as him to you, demanded our final payment, he gave it to me with his murderous look on his face and I left."

A silence settles in the living room, then your aunt lets out a small breath.

"Well, at least you won't be working for that horrible man anymore."

"And don't worry," your uncle says, "Both will find another job."

Afterwards, you both go to your room and you take a nap, finally resting properly after so long with no more on your mind that the next day you have to go to the restaurant to work.

Despite what happened, you sleep peacefully and then wake up in the night, where you see Alysanne asleep next to you with her headphones on.

You let out a yawn and stretch, thinking you can go back to sleep, but you turn on your phone screen to check the time, when suddenly, you see Aemond's message notification, taking you by surprise.

You frown and read them from the notification, not wanting to go into the chat directly: "I'm so sorry about what happened.'

'Are you okay?'

'Can we meet?'

A bitter feeling runs through your body and you shake your head.

Of course he would eventually decide to text you out of pity, not really because he wanted to or because it was in his plans. And now you're the one who has no interest in hearing from him.

So you delete his notification messages, pretend he didn't send you anything and lock your screen, settling back to sleep.

"Fucking old man."

"If I'd been there I'd have broken his few remaining teeth."

"Besides, it's not like the food is good. That shrimp soup they make, it tastes like shit."

"And how do you know that?" asks Daniel to Chase confused.

"Cregan once came to his port with a bowl of those when I was working."

"We can cancel him on social media, you know? It's not a bad idea after all."

"Getting cancelled by a bunch of poor Black Waves people isn't a bad idea? Do you think we'll even have relevance against all of Crown's who also have more rich friends and connections all over the country and who knows how far beyond that?"

A brief silence settles in.

"Well, when you put it like that... yeah, it sounds bad. Very bad actually."

"Then I propose we set fire to his restaurant."

"Or we fill it all up with live octopus and crabs."

"Really?"

You look at your friends with an amused smile, and all three of them gesture innocently.

"What?"

"We want to defend your honor."

Sam says to you, draping one of his arms around your shoulders as you all walk together along the shore of the beach.

"You see, if you mess with a poor person, we poor people will attack you back. And Mr. Frey has been deserving it ever since the two of you started working for him."

"You're going to burn down his restaurant?" Alysanne inquires.

"What does it matter?" he shrugs, "That he doesn't have the money to make another one?"

You continue to listen to your friends' jokes, planning a plan worse and worse than the last on how to make Mr. Frey pay, all for the purpose of making you laugh.

For which you couldn't feel more grateful to them as you all spend an afternoon at Sunset's Pier.

Although they did get very upset when Alysanne told them everything that had happened, but the harsh reality is that a bunch of poor people can't do anything to a rich man from Crown's. So all that's left to do is settle for imaginary plans.

"Anyway, let's go surfing?" proposes Daniel.

"Yeah!"

"Hell yeah!"

You and Alysanne exchange a glance.

"Hum... we'll catch up with you later," she says, standing next to you.

"Why? Where are you going?" asks Chase in confusion.

"To find a job," you reply.

The search to find a new job has started exactly two days ago, so the only chance you both have and the best chance is here at the pier, but still nothing, though you're not giving up yet.

"Okay, good luck."

"Come back soon!" exclaims Daniel, trotting out to sea with his surfboard.

"And make sure it's not another dick boss!" exclaims Sam as well, following Daniel.

You watch the three of them with a small smile and walk away from the beach in the direction of the establishments, hoping to get lucky this day.

"Are you going to the party tonight?" asks Alysanne.

"Another one?"

"It's been almost two weeks since the last party here," she tells you incredulously and you let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you're right."

"So?"

"Where?"

"Crown's, with Cregan."

"Oh no, no, absolutely not," you say quickly, shaking your head.

"Oh Y/N, come on!"

"Are you crazy? How do you think I'm going to stand at Crown's after what happened?" you stare at her incredulously, "Surely everyone already knows, as if it wasn't humiliating enough already."

"They'll all be drinking, having a good time and I highly doubt they'll be talking about or remembering at that point the poor girl who threw food on Cerelle and Cassandra."

"And the poor girl who supposedly took Floris' order wrong," you remind him annoyed.

"Come on!" she squeals, insistent, "You need it. We need to have some fun."

"They will all be there, what if they see me and again something bad happens?"

'Not to mention Aemond will probably be there too.'

Your mind reminds you and it's one more reason not to go after you've been ignoring his messages.

"Please, they're all always on the yachts. They never get off there and they won't see us."

"But they might," you suggest.

"They won't," she tells you with an absurd tone, "They think they're the queens of the city and that's their exclusive area, they won't," she repeats confidently.

"No, I really don't in the mood to go."

"Please, Y/N," she tells you desperately, "If you go with us, I'll wash all your clothes for a week," she proposes.

This inevitably gets your attention and you watch her really interested.

"All of it?"

"All of it," she affirms.

"Two weeks," you change the deal.

"One week," she repeats back to you with a frown.

"Two full weeks or no deal."

"Ugh, don't be like that," she reproaches you.

"Do you want me to go or not?"

"Two and a half weeks," she proposes.

You shake your head, with an amused smile and folding your arms.

"Two full weeks and I won't change my mind."

She rolls her eyes and you hold out your hand.

"Fine," she reluctantly shakes it.

"Fine," you smile victoriously.

That same day, instead of looking for a job, the two of you buy bikini sets for the night with Mr. Frey's final payment.

Alysanne wanted to buy more but you were responsible enough to stop her and yourself as well, since you can't spend all the money until you secure a new job.

Then you go surfing for a while with the boys, hours pass, you go home and in the evening, Cregan comes by both of you in his car, with the guys already in it.

And again, you find yourself walking into Crown's, where you start to reflect and think that this is probably a bad idea.

But everyone is so excited and deep down inside you, after the horrible days you've had, you also want to have fun, de-stress and not worry for a while.

And the funny comments from the guys, that they are spreading the excitement to you and that it feels like any other party, helps.

When you arrive at the party, they have not yet arrived, so you are instantly relieved, although the nervousness is still present. For despite Alysanne's words, your mind keeps going back to what happened at the restaurant, all fresh in your memory.

Fortunately, though, Sam, Chase, Daniel and Cregan decide to spend the party in a more secluded part of the beach, to protect you in case anything happens.

You appreciate that and soon enough the party begins.

It's quiet at first, just everyone talking and laughing with everyone, drinking, dancing, Sam and Daniel trying to distract you and keep your spirits up, telling bad jokes, while Chase talks to Cregan about surfing and the waves he hopes to catch tomorrow.

And of course, Cregan throws in jokes about the party and lets everyone know of more dramas that have been going on lately at Crown's with the rich families and how they came to his and his family's ears.

And of course, they all make jokes and throw curses towards Mr. Frey, not leaving him alone, while Alysanne and you laugh.

Also, Sam does a perfect imitation of the rich girls at Crown's, especially Floris and Cassandra Baratheon, who cry if they don't get what they want and always ask for things in a bad way, so shallow and arrogant.

"Don't you know who my father is?" threatens Sam pretending to be Floris Baratheon with indignation and superiority, placing a hand on his hip and watching everyone with a raised eyebrow.

You and Alysanne laugh, as do the guys, who continue to corroborate Sam's imitation for all they know of everyone's rich attitudes and phrases.

"Hey," your cousin gives you a slight elbow and points at you with her gaze, "I told you."

You follow her gaze and there they are, the Baratheon's and the Lannister's, who just as your cousin had told you, with bottles of wine and champagne, amid laughter and expensive outfits board their luxurious yachts.

Although this catches your attention, without being able to help it, you look for a specific person with silver hair, but there is not a single Targaryen accompanying them.

"We'll be fine," Alysanne tells you, beginning to truly relax.

You let out a long breath and take a long swig from your beer bottle, also definitely starting to relax.

There's no way they can recognize you from the great distance, though you still have to be alert because if one of them decides to come down, which you doubt very much, but it could still happen.

And even though your friends are still partying, you can't help but think of him... Aemond.

Where is he? Why isn't he here? Why didn't he come with Floris? Is he thinking about you too?'

You know you're the one who decided not to answer his messages and you know that's the right decision to make after what happened. But still... that fucking kiss keeps replaying in your mind.

But you also know it's not right. Him and you... together? Deciding to get involved like that?

It's a very bad and dangerous idea in which you could get yourself in serious trouble, and him too, after all. You with all of Crown's and him with his family and the Baratheon's.

So, although it hurts you, this is good, so that no one is harmed in any way. It's best not to see him anymore.

"Hey, smile."

Alysanne's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you watch as she wants to take a selfie of everyone together, so pretty soon the guys pile up behind you, with Daniel's arm around you hugging you and on Alysanne's account, all smiling, then striking a better pose, then making a funny face.

"I got my eye closed."

" In which one?"

"On the second one."

Then you hear the huge laugh Chase lets out toward Sam.

"You look like the baby from Toy Story three."

The guys do their antics by dancing, playing games of who finishes drinking the bottle the fastest, telling stories, and following the pretty girls around with their eyes. Which makes it all the more enjoyable, except for the last part.

“Hey man,” Daniel says to Cregan, ”When are you going to take us to meet your yacht?”

Cregan looks at him amused.

“My yacht?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was waiting until we were confident enough to be able to tell you.”

“The more subtle one,” Alysanne says.

"We have reasons," Daniel defends himself.

"Yeah because the time you were going to take us on your parents' yacht, the damn yacht was suddenly invisible," Sam backs him up.

"Okay, first of all, that wasn't my fault," Cregan clarifies, "I didn't know my parents were gone on it for the weekend because they didn't tell me either."

"I was totally devastated."

"You stole my illusion, man."

"Okay, you want me to invite you guys?" asks Cregan genuinely curious and unconcerned.

“Dude,” Sam looks at him incredulously, “You've been listening to us talk for months about yachts, champagne bottles and partying,” he lists off with his fingers, ”And you ask us if we want you to invite us?”

“It's not like you've been more direct,” he justifies himself.

“If we've been talking about yachts, champagne bottles and partying,” Daniel repeats now, also listing, “What do we really mean when we have a rich guy in our group of friends?” he asks him, expectantly, crossing his arms.

Cregan is about to speak, hesitant, but Sam speaks first.

“Exactly,” he points to him with his index finger, ‘That our friend Cregan, who has a yacht and bottles of champagne, because no one else of us does,’ he says obviously, ”invited us to have a party, just us.”

“You know how convenient you sound, don't you?” you ask them, taking another sip from your bottle.

“No, it's okay,” Cregan says instantly, “All my life I've known people to be conventional. But you guys aren't.”

“So we'll go to your yacht?” asks Daniel excitedly.

“Yeah, sure,” he says nonchalantly, ”Anytime. Just let me know.”

“It's not like it's that cool, really,” Chase says, unconcerned.

“What did you say?” Cregan gives him the expectant look.

“I've seen it. And I think the Targaryen yacht is bigger.”

Your heart flips slightly at hearing the last name.

“It's bigger than all of those,” Cregan points out those now on the dock.

“Not so cool, still.”

“Oh, okay, all right. Then let's have the party on your yacht,” he tells him condescendingly, “Oh right, you don't have one.”

Everyone starts laughing, you included, as Chase shows him the middle finger.

“I was just kidding.”

“Yeah, me too baby.”

“Hey, come here.”

Sam's approaching voice makes you watch him and he takes you by the hand, wanting to dance with you, so soon everyone starts making fun, while you laugh and Sam tries to lead you to the beat of the music.

And you have a good time, laughing, having fun and drinking, trying to do Sam's impossible but funny dance steps, starting to feel the alcohol starting to take its effect on you.

And everything seems fine until a high-pitched, familiar laugh interrupts you and cuts the mood.

“Well, well, look who we have here.”

'You've got to be kidding me.'

You think, feeling your stomach turn, turning your body to see Floris straight ahead, standing there, accompanied by Cerelle and Tyshara, all with malevolent smiles on their faces, especially Floris. 

And you wonder; in what moment did she come down here? And in what moment did she recognize you?

Alysanne rises from the sand as Floris faces them both with a sharp gaze, sweeping over each one, especially you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with disdain, “Pretending to be one of us? Really?” 

You feel Alysanne tense beside you, clearly ready to answer, or rather attack. But you hold her arm, trying to keep things from getting out of hand. But the venom in Floris' words grows.

“How funny to see you like this, when in reality you are poor people from Black Waves,” she says with disgust, “Though now I see how you manage to mix among us, bringing with you more people from your dumpster,” she says with disdain, watching with a serious look between Cregan and the guys.

Cregan lets out a long breath, really not wanting to deal with this now, but it seems he has no choice. So he speaks, his voice serious and firm, not caring at all about defending you.

“They are here because I invited them, Floris. And I don't care what you think, nor do the others. Just like I don't care if you don't like the idea, because then you can get the hell out,” he clarifies, “You're not the owner of the beach and you're not the owner of Crown's.”

“You're also no one to be disrespecting us,” Chase tells him, stepping in as well.

Floris looks at him with a raised eyebrow and an offended face.

“And who are you to talk to me like that, you poor shit? Do you even know who I am or who my father is?”

Sam lets out a chuckle, unable to help it, with an obvious look at you, but suddenly Alysanne jumps up, fury in her eyes.

“How dare you!?” she yells at him, with full intent in her posture, ”You think you can come in here and insult my friends!? You think I can't really break your face after what you did!?”

The tension mounts and you quickly stop her, along with Cregan, as Sam, Daniel and Chase step in.

“Look at her, always so wild, all you from Black Waves, wanting to beat people up,” Floris says, wanting to leave them as the bad guys.

“Y/N didn't do anything to you at the restaurant! It was you who accused her of bringing you the wrong order and who made her fall on purpose, humiliating her in front of everyone and you think you don't deserve to be taught a lesson!?”

“You better get the fuck out of your shitty side of town, will you!?”

Floris yells at her too.

“All of you and especially you!” she points at you, “How dare you come here after what happened? You should be ashamed of yourself, wanting to pretend you belong here.”

Cregan walks over to her.

“That was enough. Stop it and leave,” he tells her in his firm but not aggressive voice.

Floris ignores him completely, her eyes glued on Alysanne and you, as if they were an insect she can crush effortlessly.

“You're pathetic. You should get the hell out and not come back before you humiliate yourselves any further. You don't belong at Crown's and you know it. All you are is some ridiculous fucking poor people with miserable lives.”

Floris' words hit you with a force you had not expected. You feel the rage burn inside you, but also the pain of humiliation. You can't escape that feeling of inferiority, of being less and being seen as little, instead of what you are, a human being.

And now you react, turning to her, with restrained fury.

“What did you just say?”

“Hey, no, no,” Sam stops you.

“You think I'm going to let myself be humiliated by you again?”

Floris lets out a laugh.

“I'm humiliating you?” she points out, ”But you're humiliating yourself, coming here.”

“We're not pretending to be like you, Floris. Do you think I would like to be a fucking spoiled brat like you who likes to humiliate others to feel good about herself?” you tell her, furious, ”We would never do that. But you're a liar and cruel, and you know it.”

Floris raises an eyebrow, indifferent. 

“Oh, please. No one's listening to you, you poor thing.”

Cregan again interjects, turning to her.

“That's enough. We're not going to let you bother us anymore.”

Floris barely pays any attention to him. In her mind, these guys, nor you along with Alysanne, have any value. And she finds it an insult that you're here, at Crown's.

“How lovely. You defending all these,” she points at them with disgust, ”But really, Cregan? That's how you choose to spend your time, with Black Waves trash instead of us?”

“I already told you what you think doesn't matter to me.”

Again the tension begins to build, along with the expectation that everything will explode at any moment.

The guys hold Alysanne and you, but more so Alysanne, while Cregan tries to get Floris and all of them to leave and calm everything down, but in vain.

Floris keeps talking, Alysanne's blood boils and suddenly, your cousin throws a cup of beer at all of them, soaking them and insulting them, so everything effectively explodes.

Basically the guys try to stop all of them at the same time, trying to calm the matter down, drawing the attention of the other people on the beach, while Alysanne desperately tries to have Floris' head, deciding not to let her insults and humiliations pass once again.

“That's enough!”

“Calm down, girls!

“Hey, no!”

“Stop it, Floris!”

“Alysanne!”

“Girls!”

They're all in a circle, sticking with each other, trying to avoid hitting each other at all costs.

“Hey, dude! Could you calm down your crazy girlfriend here!?”

“Hey! Floris!”

Your breath catches.

And your heart starts pounding at the sound of that voice.

And just as you look to the other side, where they are, Aemond appears, running towards Floris, his face serious and his eyes fixed on her, with his brother Aegon behind him, fascinated and excited by all the drama and fighting, like many others at the party. 

“Hey!” Aemond holds her firmly, pulling her away from Alysanne, “What the hell is wrong with you?” he inquires serious and tired.

“Let go of me!”

“Doing this again? Have you gone crazy?”

Floris doesn't say anything to him, she just arranges her hair and gives you a murderous look, as well as Alysanne and then, you watch Aemond with your parted lips and he watches you too.

For a moment, everything else seems to fade away, where your mind remembers the kiss, his hands marking your skin, his breath hitching against you, the fireworks and his face close to you. 

But the memory and sensations are only for a second, as both you and he focus on stopping this. Which, you finally succeed.

The last thing you see is Floris being led by her friends towards the yacht, with Aemond and Aegon following, watching him going after her, his posture tense.

When Cregan lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It's unbelievable. Her and all those fucking arrogant, thinking they own everything.”

It's obvious that neither he, Alysanne, the boys or you are in the mood to stay.

“Let's go,” Chase says, having no choice.

Alysanne nods, still furious. 

“It's not worth it.”

You press your lips together, still feeling the helplessness coursing through your body.

You watch again where Aemond is going, when suddenly, he turns his head without stopping walking and looks at you, giving you one last look. But you turn around, following your friends, leaving the party along with the lights and music behind.

And as you leave, the sound of the waves seems to envelop you, but the weight of what happened crushes you, reminding you once again that you will never belong in this world.

You know it might be a bad idea to come but... you couldn't help it.

After everything that has happened, more bad things than good, you needed it. Walking onto Crown's beaches, you always feel that change in the air and it feels like a different place. Which is understandable because of the clear difference between Crown's and Black Waves.

But... it's not exactly that. You feel space and time differently, like it's running slower.

And you feel like you're on a distant island because of all the feet of the ravines that surround this section, enveloping you, making the view even better and feeling the tranquility in a better way.

And looking out at the deep ocean, sitting at the end of the pier, rocking your feet gently in the salt water, you wish you could have a place just like it in Black Waves, so you wouldn't have to come here and risk more.

Although you know that if you change places, it won't feel like it's like being in this place.

There is a calmness and a unique essence here, something that only this place seems to have and that is irreplaceable, just as nothing else compares to it. And you know and feel that every time you come here.

So you just have to resign yourself, close your eyes, take a deep breath and try to forget everything that bothers you, repeating in your mind that what happened, already happened.

You can't change it and you can't be hurting yourself by overthinking it all the time.

You fill your lungs with the salty air that envelops you, let the ocean breeze caress you and let the waves crashing against the shore be the only thing that reaches your ears.

You try to think of all the good things that will come next, a stable job, money and the finish line getting shorter and shorter to finally be able to go to college and fight for your dreams, which is the most important thing for you.

So you let all that fill you up and let the place do its job, which is to fill you with peace and tranquility.

When then, the creaking of wood near you catches your attention, interrupting and completely disappearing the whole moment, to quickly turn your head, alert and scared, fearing that it is one of the guards or a member of the Targaryen family.

But strangely you didn't think it might be Aemond. For you see him in surprise, entering the pier, just as surprised to see you here, neither of you expecting that.

And you both somehow just stand there, paralyzed, not knowing what to say or what to do.

It's as if both of you at the same time have memories flooding into your minds, of absolutely everything, the kiss, the restaurant, the party and the looks.

But you're still paralyzed, having no idea how to react.

When you are the first to look away, you press your lips together and swallow hard, nervously, feeling somehow vulnerable and having no idea what to do, as you continue to feel his burning gaze on you.

Then you stand up, shake your feet and put on your sandals, not intending to stay here any longer.

And Aemond seeing that, takes a cautious step towards you, watching you attentively and almost too... hopeful.

"I didn't see you when I was coming."

He tells you in a soft voice, not wanting to scare you or push you away, as you keep your gaze down and hug yourself as you feel a strong breeze with icy wind wrap around you, bristling your skin.

"I didn't hear you coming either," you tell him, somehow staying even.

He watches you silently, looking like he wants to tell you something else, but he thinks his words very carefully before he speaks. You, though, feel the slight tension in the air as the two of you stand here, in each other's presence, not knowing what to do.

'Great, weird.'

You think with some irony and disappointment, taking this as a sign to leave, since it's for the best and because he, like you, needs his peace and quiet.

"But don't worry, I'll leave so you can be alone."

You say to then start walking, passing by one side of him but making sure to keep a huge distance, fully intending to leave, when that exactly makes Aemond react and quickly act.

"Wait," he gently but firmly stops you by the arm.

You feel a strong and unexpected electricity run through your body at the contact, tensing you up and Aemond releases you almost immediately upon sensing this, your body rigid and seeing the surprise in your gaze, really not wanting to pull you away.

And he pulls away from you a little, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, nervous and a little uncomfortable, having no idea how to behave nor finding the right words to speak.

"I-I..." he begins, "I texted you. Multiple times."

You let out a long breath, beginning to feel the nervousness completely envelop you. You have no idea what to say or how to evade the conversation, as he clearly waits for an explanation.

"Um... yeah, I know. I-I'm... sorry, I was busy."

He frowns and watches you more closely.

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Yeah, very sure," you try to sound convincing, acting nonchalant.

"Really?" he gently inquires you, having none of it.

And that starts to bother you, so you straighten your back completely and raise your gaze to him, almost looking tired, crossing your arms.

"What's your point?"

"That you didn't really want to talk to me," he answers you honestly, watching you intently and with a soft gaze.

"Look I-I... I don't know, I just... I thought it wouldn't be a good idea."

He frowns again.

"Why not?"

You shake your head, not wanting to have this conversation, because you know it won't get you anywhere.

"Forget it. I should go."

You try to walk, away from him, but he again stops you.

"Wait... please," he tells you insistently, "I just..." he lets out a long sigh, "I just wanted to apologize to you for what happened with Floris. She—

"It's okay," you interrupt him, shaking your head, downplaying it and not seeing the point about talking about it, "It... it doesn't matter anymore, Aemond. And I really should go."

Again you try to leave, to walk away, but he again stops you.

"You have somewhere else to be?"

"And what's that for?"

"I want to talk to you," he tells you bluntly, not wanting you to leave.

And you feel the bitterness run through your whole body, watching him in the same way.

"Now do you want to talk?" you inquire, unable to help yourself.

You had been holding it back too long, especially since he texted you, that it needed to be said and you see the slight surprise appear on his face, clearly not expecting to hear that from you.

And you look at him seriously, daring him to tell you something about it, but he remains silent, having no idea what to say.

And the bitterness inside you intensifies, feeling that really all you're doing is wasting your time. And you don't want to do this anymore.

"Look, it's clear that neither of us expected to see each other tonight..." you say firmly and clearly in your tone of voice, "And the best thing, for both of us, is for me to leave."

Again you try to leave, but eventually Aemond loses it too.

"You're upset with me, is that it?"

He asks you, stepping in front of you, his brow furrowed and his expression slightly confused. It's as if, finally, he's starting to lose patience too.

"Cause I didn't look for you after we kissed?"

You feel your heart start to beat too fast and you watch him with your parted lips for a moment, not expecting him to be so direct in finally speaking the things that have been going on between the two of you.

"I—

"Because to be fair, you didn't look for me either," he reproaches you, not feeling like the one completely to blame for the whole situation.

"I'm not the one with a girlfriend, Aemond," you remind him, firm with your words.

He lets out a long breath, tearing his gaze away from yours, looking around as if that might help him continue the conversation and show him what he has to say, ruffling his hair in frustration.

"Well, yes, I... that's part of why I didn't contact you," he confesses to you, "It wasn't right if I did, nor for her in spite of everything and nor for you."

You press your lips together and lower your gaze for a moment, feeling the icy, salty air caress your face and blow your hair as well.

"Yeah, it wasn't..." you shake your head, "It wasn't a good idea if you did. Certainly what happened was a mistake because of your commitments and responsibilities and..." you nod, "It was for the best."

"A mistake?" he repeats looking at you confused and bewildered.

"I'm just telling you what I see," you explain, serious.

"Do you think that I think that kiss was a mistake?" he asks you incredulously.

"You don't?" you inquire back, "I mean...you and me? A rich guy and a poor girl doing this? Having this... whatever it is?"

You point between him and you with your finger, watching him in confusion, as he watches and listens to you intently, wanting to understand you.

"I could confide things about my life to you and I wanted you to finally express yourself to someone. I didn't see it as such a big deal because of our differences but... this?" you inquire, "Getting involved in this way when you have a girlfriend, risking your relationship and your position with all the people at Crown's? Do you even understand the trouble that will be made if people find out?"

Aemond understands very well everything you are telling him and what you are referring to specifically.

He also thought about it every night since that kiss happened, remembering your closeness, your touch and the sensation. Then reality hit him like a bucket of cold water and snapped him out of his fantasy.

The fantasy that this... it can be. Even he doesn't know how but maybe, just maybe, it can be.

And being here, with you, having you so close, with that kiss replaying in his mind over and over again, he doesn't think straight.

He doesn't think about the consequences, about what could go wrong, about how dangerous it is and he wants to feel it all again, to be close to you, to breathe and feel that sense of freedom he feels only when he's with you.

He knows he shouldn't, he knows what's at stake, that he has all eyes on him but still... he can't help himself. And he only wants to do it because it feels right.

"And you were thinking all this when we kissed?" he asks you in a low, soft tone.

You let out a long breath and lick your lips.

Obviously no, you didn't think about it because you didn't even think or imagine at any point that you would end up making out with Aemond Targaryen himself.

But now that it's happened, it's also a reality check and it only makes you see more at why it shouldn't have happened and why it can't go on.

"No."

"Do you regret it?"

He asks you suddenly and you swallow hard as you watch him nervously, again taking you by surprise by asking that question. But you decide to be honest.

"No."

Then he again comes closer, placing himself in front of you, looking somewhat desperate, as if the idea of you walking away is unbearable to him and he will do everything he can to make you stay, that answer being all he needs to hear.

"I know we're both different," he tells you, his voice now low, as if he's confessing something, "You and I... we don't belong on the same side and that's why I shouldn't... we shouldn't."

He doesn't let go of you and although you could easily pull away, you stay in place, watching and listening to him intently, feeling the tension inevitably grow between the two of you.

"But I... I haven't stopped thinking about you," he tells you and watches you with an overwhelming intensity that captivates and paralyzes you at the same time, "Ever since that kiss... I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

Your heart pounds in your chest and you say nothing, surprised, disoriented and longing, unconsciously, for that more.

"And another reason of why I didn't contact you was because... what I feel when I'm with you, it's... dangerous."

He confesses to you, his gaze becoming darker, more intense and more honest, as his hand comes up to touch your arm gently, moving closer towards you.

"Because I don't measure the consequences, I don't think straight, and being with you makes me want more, so much more than I should."

His honesty hits you hard, and for a moment, the air between you both seems to grow thicker, more charged with an electricity that is impossible to ignore.

You feel your breath hitch, and though you try to keep your composure, his words disarm you.

"I know it's not a good idea, I know this can bring us a lot of trouble and I know we shouldn't but I've spent my whole life letting my father and almost everyone around me make decisions for me that now... I want to make this decision," he tells you sure of his words.

"Aemond—

"I-I've never done this before," he interrupts you, wanting to make it all clear, "I don't even know what I'm saying exactly. But I want to do it because it feels right and because I feel like it's the right thing to do... for me."

He pauses, but doesn't look away from yours. You can see the internal battle in his eyes, the struggle to maintain control as emotions consume him inside.

And you, you're speechless, not expecting that he was going to tell you any of this.

"And I want you," he makes clear, voice firm but soft.

Those four words float in the air, suspended between the two of you, as you watch him with parted lips, the weight of his statement crashing over you like a wave and you feel the world around you seem to fade away.

You look him straight in the eye, searching for some sign that what he is saying is not a lie, with the slight hope in your gaze.

But there is no doubt in his gaze, only sincerity and you see him as you have seen him before in this place; vulnerable, honest and completely exposed.

Then you feel your own emotions swirl inside you, overwhelming, contradictory, but undeniable. And before you can stop or think, you take a step toward him, closing the distance between the two of you.

"Are you sure?" you ask him in a shaky whisper, because, suddenly, it all seems too much, the words, the emotions, the moment, everything.

He doesn't answer you right away, he shortens the distance between the two of you and his hand goes up to your cheek, caressing your skin with a softness that surprises you and you too raise your hand to caress his skin.

His fingers trace a line from your cheek to your jaw and the warmth of his touch envelops you completely.

His nose touches yours and you are both only inches away from each other, letting the closeness and the feeling envelop you completely along with the magic of the ocean and the shore.

"More than sure. I want you," he repeats, his voice low and soft, honest.

Then he leans his face closer to you, tilts his head and his lips meet yours.

It's as if you've been waiting for it for weeks, replaying the moment and reliving the sensation, which you reciprocate immediately, leaning closer to him if possible.

It's not rushed, nor is it gentle. It's intense, full of what you've both been waiting for.

And definitely the world around you fades away, because there is nothing but the contact between the two of you, the warmth of his lips on yours and the press of his body against yours.

Your arms curl around his neck and you feel him wrap his arms tighter around your waist, clinging to you.

The kiss becomes deeper, more demanding, and you find yourself losing yourself and letting yourself be completely carried away in it.

Everything looks and feels out of control but, at the same time, it feels absolutely right.

And you smile in the middle of the kiss, not wanting to let go of the moment, as you feel his long, pale fingers mark your skin, as you run your hands down his neck and through his hair, gently stirring it.

When you both run out of air and separate a few centimeters, catching your breath, with his forehead touching yours. Then a small smile also appears on his lips and he brushes his nose against yours.

"I have something to show you."

This catches your attention and you watch him through your eyelashes, still smiling softly and putting no distance between his body and yours, still hugging him.

"Hm?" you say slightly confused.

"You'll like it," he says to again leave a kiss on your lips, sounding like a promise.

Curiosity overcomes you and it is he who takes distance again between the two of you, to then entwine his hand with yours and begin to lead you, off the pier.

All the way off the beach you ask him what it's about, but he won't tell you anything about it, just that it's a surprise, which frustrates and confuses you but excites you more.

When you both leave through a main entrance to the beach with a booth and security guard and not jumping over a wall, as you are used to, and then he directs you to a black Jeep.

And you watch in surprise as he pulls some keys out of his front pocket.

"This is your car?" you ask in surprise, unable to help yourself.

"Yes," he observes you with a small smile, "I went to take care of some business at my father's work and on my way back, I didn't want to go home yet nor did I want them to know I was around so I decided to stop here and go to the pier," he explains to you.

You pay attention to him, but your attention is more on the beautiful Jeep he has. And he watches you almost tenderly, watching as you stare fascinated at his car, opening the door for you.

"Get in."

"But where are you taking me?" you ask amused.

"You'll see."

He doesn't give you any details and you enjoy the little ride in his car, so clean, so modern and having that very expensive smell, clearly.

The ride is not long and soon enough, he parks at Crown's pier, a pier that only he has access to and all the people who live on this side, obviously.

A pier where the rich pay to have their yachts or boats cleaned, maintained and cared for. And he clearly has no problem getting in, and then directing you towards a row of huge, expensive and elegant yachts tied up to the dock.

You've never been this close to one before and you have to remember to close your mouth at certain times and remove your fascinated idiot face when Aemond directs you and watches you.

When he stops in front of a huge three-story yacht with terraces, very luxurious and screaming money and power to the owners.

"This is my family's yacht," Aemond says to you, as you stare at the yacht with big bright eyes.

"And we're going up?" you ask him excited, thrilled and surprised.

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah, come on."

You follow him and watch as he strides confidently toward the gangway connecting the dock to the yacht, where you can't help but notice the familiarity with which he moves in this space, as if it were as commonplace to him as walking through his house.

However, for you, this place is a completely different world.

You contemplate the immensity of the yacht in front of you as you walk. And Aemond watches you over his shoulder, noticing your reactions again.

His lips curve into a small smile, and he holds out his hand, inviting you to come up.

You don't hesitate to take his hand, your eyes still watching the yacht, feeling your heart beat faster and faster with excitement with every step you take, because you've never been on something so luxurious before.

And once you set foot on the main deck, everything stretches out to you, with the air seeming to feel different, lighter.

And you stare in amazement at the deck furnished with huge white leather sofas that look very comfortable, as well as glass tables, expensive decorations and exotic plants in designer pots.

Aemond walks around the deck, showing you every corner as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He also shows you a huge dining table and an outdoor bar.

And you follow in his footsteps, feeling like you're in a dream.

"This yacht is mostly used by Aegon to bring his friends, girls, have his parties or when he wants to be alone. Daeron and Helaena also come when they don't want to be at home, sometimes I come with them or I also come when I don't want anyone to bother me," he explains to you as he gives you the tour.

"This isn't the yacht that was at the pier when you caught me, is it?"

"No, that one was smaller and my mom's."

You look at him in surprise.

"How many yachts does your family have, then?"

"Only three," he tells you amused, "My mom's, this one and another one about the same size as this one."

And he says it so simply, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to have three luxurious yachts and as if it's so easy to buy them, which... yes, it is easy, because his family has plenty of money.

"The other one is used more by my dad and when my mom wants to go on little trips, celebrations or things like that, it's on that yacht that we all get together but never on this one."

'I wish I had a lot of money too.'

Your mind tells you, making all your poverty clearer to you.

You listen to everything he tells you, but you're also too focused on absorbing every detail, from the sleek, minimalist design to the breathtaking views of the nighttime ocean stretching out in front of you.

Everything here looks like something out of a glossy magazine, and at times, you find it hard to believe you're really here.

"Come."

He says to you, as he slides the glass doors that take you inside the yacht and you follow him, stepping inside with him behind you.

'God.'

You think, gazing in wonder at all the interior that is most... extravagant.

White walls, white floor, black and gold details decorate the whole place. First is the large living room with white sofas, black furniture, soft carpets and windows big enough to give you an amazing view of the outside.

You can only imagine how beautiful you would see both from the deck side and from in here the whole ocean if the yacht was in motion.

Everything here is spacious, with those expensive decorations, air conditioning and a huge TV that takes up almost an entire wall.

And on the other end, there is a huge kitchen with black cabinets, refrigerator, stove, oven, dishwasher, island and basically equipped with absolutely everything, with nothing missing.

"Wow," you murmur, walking around the kitchen, observing everything.

Aemond doesn't stop watching you, because there's something about your expression, the way you watch everything in wonder and how your smile widens with each new discovery, that makes him smile too.

But you just can't help it. All of it breathtaking, every corner screams richness and exclusivity.

Then he briefly shows you the bathroom and takes you to the second floor, where you climb the stairs all too excitedly, peering in every direction.

"This is so cool," you say with a smile, watching the second floor hallway.

He shows you room after room, which is four in all, where each has its own luxurious bathroom, king-size beds, television and ocean views that look like something out of a dream.

Your mind tries to process all this, but it's as if every time you look around, something new surprises you.

Then he shows you the second-floor terrace, where there are also sofas, glass tables, an open bar, loungers and a hot tub.

"No way," you murmur in amazement.

You approach the edge of the hot tub, touching the water with your fingertips and feel the warmth of the water against your skin.

If Daniel were in this place, he would have passed out. And when you tell him, he definitely won't believe you. Or he'll believe you but he'll be very envious.

"I've always wanted to get on one of these yachts. But for some strange reason, I never thought they'd have hot tubs. I mean, I should have guessed," you tell him with a little smile, "It's great."

Every step you take inside this place makes you feel smaller and, at the same time, more excited. You enter a world to which you have never belonged, but which now opens up to you in the most unexpected way.

And deep down, you feel a strange mix of emotions, excitement to be here, but also a slight regret as you remember that this is not your world, that this is Aemond's life, not yours.

But Aemond doesn't notice any of this. He just keeps watching you, drawing his attention to the way you are amazed by everything.

There is something in your innocent amazement that moves him, something that makes him smile every time your eyes light up at the discovery of something new.

He knows that all this is new to you, and he likes to see you enjoying yourself, exploring this world that, for him, is so familiar but for you is completely unknown.

Then he takes you to the top floor, where there is also a small terrace that allows you to have an incredible view of the whole yacht and the ocean. And also where is the cabin to navigate the yacht.

"And do you know how to navigate this?" you ask him as you watch and walk through everything, looking at the details of the control panel and the helm, curious.

"Of course," he tells you slightly offended, "What's the point of owning a yacht and not knowing how to sail it?"

You can't help but let out a small laugh at the way he says it, almost as if it's a duty for someone like him.

"This is like a house, it already has everything you need and you could basically live here with no problem and without needing to sail."

"Yeah," he says thoughtfully, in agreement, "But the point is to sail it and show it off."

You let out a small laugh.

"Typical of those who live at Crown's."

He watches you with a small smile on his lips, realizing that for you, being here, getting to know his yacht, is enough. But not for him.

"Do you want to go sailing?"

"Now?" you look at him surprised, "In the middle of the night?"

"No, not now."

He answers you in a soft tone, moving closer to you, raising his hand to cup your cheek, watching you attentively and tenderly.

"But someday. Soon," he tells you then.

And you watch him in complete anticipation, leaning into his touch.

"Really?"

"Yes," he tells you softly, "We will."

You smile, excited, thrilled, excited, surprised, incredulous, all of it.

"I'd love to."

The idea of being here, of coming back and sailing the ocean together, seems almost unreal. It's something you never thought you could experience, much less with him. But the illusion settles deep within you.

Your smile widens even more, your eyes shining with excitement as you lean slightly into his touch, wanting to feel more of that warmth he brings you.

He watches you silently for a few moments and leans closer to you, kissing you softly.

His hand on your waist burns your skin and you cling to him completely, enjoying the taste of his lips, the warmth of his body, the way he makes you feel and the way he makes you forget everything and focus only on him.

And in the middle of the kiss, he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, his breath mixing with yours.

"We can spend the night here... if you want."

You watch him, somewhere between confusion and surprise.

"Here? Really?"

The idea is exciting, but forbidden, yet more exciting.

And he nods, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he watches you intently and gently, where you watching him back, you notice now that you are this close with him, his real eye and his prostatic eye, being able to see the difference.

But you don't care. He is still beautiful. Intrigue comes over you, though.

"Yes, yes we can. There won't be any problems. No one from my family comes here," he assures you, his tone calm.

"Are you sure? And Aegon?"

Aemond flashes a half-smile, cocking his head slightly to one side.

"I doubt he'll show up. He hasn't in a while.... Besides, if he come, he probably wouldn't even notice we were here."

Your thoughts race at full speed, the thought of staying there, in such a luxurious and private place, just you and Aemond alone, causes you a mixture of nerves and excitement.

You look around once more, feeling the cool evening breeze and the calm sound of the ocean in the distance. Everything seems magical. And you don't want to miss an opportunity like this.

"Okay."

Aemond leans into you again and kisses you more intensely this time. You cling to him, your hands exploring his neck and hair as the kiss grows deeper, more desperate, as if neither of you want it to end.

After a few minutes, when you both need to breathe, Aemond pulls away slightly, his lips barely brushing yours as he murmurs to you in a voice that is barely a whisper.

"Come. I'll show you where I usually sleep."

Without letting go of your hand, Aemond leads you back inside the yacht, down the stairs. The atmosphere inside is warm and welcoming, with dim lights illuminating the way.

You pass through several doors until you finally arrive at the last one, the room he showed you before and which is the largest of them all.

And as you both enter, tension, anticipation and excitement envelop both him and you. Where Aemond wraps his arms around your waist when your back is turned to him and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Do you like it?" he whispers, his voice deep and calm.

You don't respond right away, as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses on your shoulder, then moves down to your neck.

You close your eyes and tilt your head to the side, giving him more accessibility, feeling the shivers run through your entire body and your breathing heavier.

"Yes," you reply on a shaky sigh.

His large hands caress your waist without ceasing to mark and kiss your skin, only for you to begin to lose patience and turn towards him in his arms, kissing him deeply.

And you feel how the ocean whisper mixes with yours.

general taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

[lovebugism]

I heard you’d like some requests, don’t mind if I do 👹 I could’ve sent 62 but I restrained myself:

*grumbling* "Some people are waaay too touchy."

if it inspires you, please!

emmy (upsidedownwithsteve) 🧡

@upsidedownwithsteve, my love! it was an honor to write for you! i hope you like it :D — eddie munson's a big, jealous grump at the bar (established relationship, fluff, 1.1k)

Eddie’s having a piss-poor night. His beer’s lukewarm, the music’s too loud, you’re too far away, and Steve Harrington hasn’t shut up in ten minutes. 

He could hardly stand the dumbass everyone used to call The King, but even less when he’s got a golden arm thrown over your shoulder. And, yeah, it’s all friendly or whatever, but that hardly quells the wildfire burning in his chest. “What right does he have to touch you like this? Fucking none,” grumbles the wild-haired boy’s inner conscience. 

But then again, no one does. Not even him.

“Think I should go buy her a drink?” Steve asks you over the blaring pop music. His honey eyes are pointed across the bar at a girl way out of his league. His slick mouth is far too close to your ear.

You roll your eyes. “I think you should be a gentleman and feel things out with her first—”

“Oh, I’m gonna feel things out with her, alright,” Steve scoffs, bringing the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth.

“—Before jumping into a one-night stand you only halfway recover from.”

The two of you turn to glare at each other, then. Gazes unwavering. Noses mere inches apart. Eddie makes a faint grumbly noise of protest about it, but the boyish sound of disgust goes unheard under the music.

But when I see you hanging about with anyone—

It’s not unusual to see me cry; I wanna die!

Someone’s been plugging the same goddamn Tom Jones song into the jukebox for six minutes now. Eddie feels like he might as well be in hell at this rate. It’d hurt less, he figures.

You and Steve seem to communicate telepathically until he inevitably caves first. He huffs until his puffed-out chest deflates, along with his stupid ego. He doesn’t know how you always seem to be right about everything. He fucking hates it, actually.

“Right. Whatever. I’m gonna go find Robin. She’s probably lost,” Steve deadpans with a sigh as he slides out from the booth. “Want anything?”

“Can you get me—”

“A spicy margarita?” he finishes for you — like he can read your fucking mind, Eddie grouses bitterly to himself. He hates that someone else knows you as well as he does.

You squint. “How’d you know?”

‘Cause it’s your favorite thing to drink after shots, Eddie answers in his head.

“Because we just had tequila shots. And you always want a spicy margarita after tequila shots,” Steve deadpans, then chuckles when your face scrunches. He pokes the very apple of your cheek and turns to the pouty boy across from you. “What about you, Eds? Want another beer while I’m up?”

Eddie shakes his head with a flat face, then takes a sip of his warm and hardly-sipped beer.

“Next round’s on you two, alright? I’m not your fucking boyfriend— you’re not getting free beers off me all night,” Steve chides lightheartedly before disappearing into the crowd. 

You only smile to yourself as he goes. You know he’ll buy the whole damn bar out if you ask him to. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for and all. Especially when they’re rich.

A groan bubbles in Eddie’s throat when the upbeat song starts all over again. It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone! the man croons. He drops his head to his elbow and bellows an annoyed moan. His chestnut curls spread wild over his shoulders.

You hide your grin behind your fist. “What’s wrong, Eds?”

“Nothin’,” he monotones, face still hidden.

“You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes.”

“Well, Steve hasn’t shut up in about thirty, so…” he retorts and lifts his heavy head, faking a smile as he tilts his flushed cheek to his shoulder. “Getting you two idiots into a room is fuckin’ crazy, you know that, right? Neither of you knows when to stop talking.”

Your nose scrunches. “Well, that’s what usually happens when you have friends, Eddie. You have conversations.”

“You sayin’ I don’t have friends, sweetheart?” he questions with narrowed, chocolate eyes.

“No,” you answer, grinning all pretty. “I’m sayin’ you’re jealous for no reason.”

His face falls flat at having been found out so quickly. Though he figures he wasn’t exactly being discreet about the whole thing. He grumbles and shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling too seen beneath your unwavering stare.

“Some people are just way too touchy,” he grouses with a boyish sneer on his features, trying desperately to hide his pout behind the amber bottle in his fist. He takes another sip of the lukewarm liquid and averts his gaze.

Your beam widens until it brightens the dim bar. “You’re the one sitting all the way over there, you loon,” you tell him with a soft giggle that squints the edges of your eyes.

Eddie perks at the invitation. His doe eyes flit from the sticky table to your twinkling eyes. He’s been waiting on the offer all night, too much of a coward to ask you himself, and it shows on his suddenly hopeful features.

You nod your head to the empty spot beside you. “Get over here before Steve comes back and starts yapping again.”

Eddie rises with a newfound life, rounding the table and sliding into the squeaky booth beside you. He clutches his beer with his left hand and throws his right around your shoulder. His arm rests over the back of the booth where Steve’s once was, holding you like he’s been dying to all night.

“Better?” you grin.

He nods wordlessly, wild curls tickling your jaw. He takes another sip to hide his quiet smile when you press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Steve returns then, with your spicy margarita in one hand and Robin’s wrist in the other. She stumbles in behind him and sways in place ahead of the table — freckled cheeks rosy, ocean eyes glassy.

“Have fun?” you wonder with a teasing lilt.

“I saw something shiny on the way back from the bathroom,” the brunette girl confesses in tiny slurs. “Then I get lost…”

You nod sympathetically. “We figured.”

Steve nudges her ahead of him until Robin gets the hint. She slinks gracelessly into the booth. The boy squints as he slides you your drink. “You’re in my seat,” he observes, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.

Eddie shrugs. “…Yeah?”

“You could’ve just asked to switch,” he scoffs and slips in beside Robin.

“I was fine,” the wild-haired boy insists, then nods his head over to you. “She’s the one that wanted me to move.”

And even though that’s not exactly what happened, you nod anyway. “Yeah. I got too tired of sitting next to you, Stevie,” you tease the boy ahead of you. “Your cologne’s too strong— you smell like a fucking high school boys’ locker room.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you had a ton of experience in those back in the day, didn’t you?” Steve scoffs.

Your eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Jesus,” Eddie grumbles like a storm cloud. “Stop flirting.”