#Let him face the trials and tribulations of wanting to be with someone you love when the ppl around you aren't supportive...

[sammydem0n64]

I've also been thinking about Rinoll a lot recently and like. Guys she. She kinda wins in the end? SPECIFICALLY in regards to her relationship with Chocip. She gets what she wants in the end with NO consequence. Dude.

[nyao-mi]

NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM

LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw

at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.

now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.

you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.

and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.

you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.

your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.

he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.

his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.

when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.

the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.

you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.

so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.

it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.

he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.

he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.

and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.

'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'

of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.

'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'

and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.

he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.

and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.

they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.

he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.

he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.

you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.

[ambeauty]

a few thoughts on the different types of romantic love in the bear

One facet of the show that I feel like is incredibly poignant is the emotional realism. I think I read another post or podcast about "emotional realism" in the bear so I will be borrowing that to talk about emotional realism when it comes to romantic partnerships in the show.

I feel like a lot of people wanted Sydney and Carmy to be this magical soulmate pairing that faced no opposition, trials, or tribulations on their journey to love and let me be the one to tell you right now. That's just not realistic. So in order to showcase how the show portrays different versions of romantic love, I wanted to focus on some couples that are not so triggering when it comes to the idea of romantic partnership within the context of the show.

Natalie x Pete: Natalie and Pete are the epitome and pinnacle of romantic love in the show. BUT, and STRONG BUT, they are not without their challenges. Natalie's family for the most part do not like Pete. They tolerate him, now, but for the longest time and to this day, they talk shit about him, because he's not like them. He's an outsider who has a different way of loving, and they don't understand it. Should Pete have left Natalie because her family didn't accept him?

Natalie's traumatic childhood still makes her feel insecure about her relationship. Plus she has a lot of generational trauma that she is working through to not pass down these things to her daughter. Should Pete leave her because she's insecure and traumatized?

You would answer no.

Richie x Tiff:

Richie and Tiff are divorced but they are still deeply interconnected because of Eva. You know that there is still a deep love between them because of the conversation on the bench. Tiffany wants Richie at her wedding because that's her family. Not to embarrass him or make him feel bad, but because she still has a deep love for him as a person. I get the sense that they didn't work out because it took him well into his adult life to figure out what he really wanted to do. Sometimes love isn't enough, especially when a child is involved. Tiffany and Eva deserve stability and at the time Richie wasn't able to provide it for YEARS. So I don't blame Tiff for leaving, but if Richie was in a better place, I know she would've stayed.

Just because you aren't with someone anymore doesn't mean that their importance to your life and the love you have for them just goes away.

Tina x Mr. Marrero

We don't get to spend a lot of time with them but we get to see such a beautiful dynamic between Tina and her husband. Now that they've been given it to me I need more. Tina and her husband are doing their very best to take care of their son and live a content life. They aren't rich but they've created a warm and comforting environment that is built on the foundation of their love. When Tina loses her job, it shakes up everything. Mr. Marrero is focused on his duty to take care of the household on his modest income. And Tina is so independent and knows that they need her income in order to survive. Her husband supports her through this transition even if it's stress on him and her. They work as team to get through this life change. Should he have left Tina the moment she became frustrated with finding employment? Should Tina have left him because his income alone wasn't enough to sustain them?

Again the answer is no.

The emotional realism of the bear shows that relationships of any kind are never perfect and never without challenges. Familial, platonic, or romantic. Sydney and Carmen are no different. While I support whatever decision Sydney makes, I do believe that what they are going through is their biggest trial yet. Syd and Carmy have failed to communicate in a healthy way for 3 seasons. And once these miscommunications finally bubble over it's going to be catastrophic. In one way or another. Who knows? At the end of the day what's important is that they do learn how to communicate because whether they stay business partners or become more or less, there will be obstacles that they will need to work through and grow from together.

"What grows together goes together."

thank you @thoughtfulchaos773 for encouraging me to expand on this

[iamthatonefangirl]

harvey specter headcanons

if you know me irl, maybe just skip this one!

part two

part three

~~~

harvey specter, who always sends your favorite burnt orange-colored roses to your desk to remind you of how much you mean to him. 

harvey specter, who thinks you shouldn’t want a thing. who gifts them to you before you even mention that new pair of shoes or purse you would love to have. 

harvey specter, who rests his hand on your thigh whenever you’re seated next to each other. no matter the occasion, or where you are. 

harvey specter, who craves your touch every time a new obstacle comes up with a case. who just wants to be with you and forget about every trial and tribulation he has to deal with. 

harvey specter, who can’t fathom your obsession with listening to the same songs over and over again. but behind the scenes, he’s orchestrating VIP tickets for the both of you to go see your favorite artist, before the tour has even been announced. 

harvey specter, who is much older than you, and has to remind himself that the looks you get from strangers don’t matter. who has to pretend to laugh with you when the waitress refers to him as your father, but really, he’s wondering what the hell he’s doing with someone twenty years younger than him. 

harvey specter, who is afraid to tell you he’s in love with you. he knows it, but he can’t get over his fear that you’re going to leave him. he just hopes you won’t leave him before he gets up the courage to tell you, to reassure you that he does love you, that it wasn’t you, it was his own insecurities. 

harvey specter, who lets you get away with everything. when you want him to come home from the office at a reasonable hour, even though he’s drowning in work, he can’t resist the way you say his name when you call his cell and ask him to come home, pretty please, Harvey…

harvey specter, who pays your bills before you even know they’re due. and when you confront him and tell him baby, I have a job, I can pay my own bills just fine but he insists and says it’s his job to make sure you’re taken care of. and if you’re really that concerned about it, he tells you, I have a few ideas of how you can pay me back. 

harvey specter, who doesn’t know what to do when you’re sobbing in pain, feeling completely helpless, trying to ask what he can do to just make your pain stop. and when you’re feeling better, you think he sounds like your mother when he can barely get the words out to tell you I just wish I could take your pain on myself so you don’t have to feel it. it’s the most heartfelt you’ve ever heard him be. and as you gently hold his face as you kiss him, you reassure him that you’re okay, and him being there for you is more than enough. 

harvey specter, who is so art deco!! Lana del ray anyone plz

nsfw ones: (seriously if you know me please leave now)

harvey specter, who slips both hands underneath your dress after a date night at the most expensive restaurant in town. who grips your hips tight as he grinds you down onto him, eliciting a whimper of his name from you, to which he tells you say it again, and you do, over and over again until you’re cumming on his fingers not long afterwards.

harvey specter, who can barely keep up with your young, early-twenties sex drive. but goddamn he does. 

harvey specter, who can’t help but fall to his knees the minute you tell him you get off to the thought of it. who puts his pride aside to give you that satisfaction because he loves you so much. 

harvey specter, who is shocked by how forthcoming you are about your fantasies after being prompted. who wants to try all of them immediately, but has to remember that patience is a virtue.

[pombeom]

Hello pombeom hope ur having a good day/night !!! Idk if ur requests are open i forgot to check BUT if its alr... may i request a domtutor!taehyun x bratsub!reader ? 🙊

Having an intense terry brainrot its so crazy RGHHH so scenario is, reader is really behind her like classes and almost failing everything and the teacher said she needs to catch up and take a tutor blh blah blah.. so, the teacher assigned tyun to be his tutor. Then, Everytime they have a study session, reader wont take it srs so tyun snapped out of it and just fucked the shit out of her 🫨

Feel free to ignore this if u get uncomfortable with this request !! Sorry if its not the best description, but the rest is up to you !! 🤧

Also, do you have a taglist? If yes, i would love to be tagged in every txt fics, thoughts OR ANYTHING ABT TXT😶‍🌫️

tutoring trouble | taehyun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: meandomtutor!taehyun x brattysub!reader

warnings: spanking, namecalling (slut, brat), dirty talk, blowjob, doggy, manhandling, creampie, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, mean mean taehyun, nippleplay, marking, hickeys, zero aftercare, dacryphilia (reader cries), lmk if i forgot anything

a/n: thank you so much for being my first request!! this was so much fun to write and i hope this cures your brain rot 😭 don’t have a taglist atm but when i do (hopefully soon 🤞(just need to figure out how it works)) i’ll definitely add you :)

requests open

“Can I have a word please?”

At the end of the seminar, your professor calls upon you as you and your friends begin to leave. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 

“Right. I just wanted to talk to you about your recent grades. For someone who used to perform well in every assignment, your performance has been slipping to well below average. Even on a test where everyone managed to score above 60% you were the only one with a mark of 48% which tells me that you might need some additional support. A senior student has volunteered to help you out so from now on you shall receive tutoring session from him every week. His name is Kang Taehyun and he’s a very capable student who I believe can give you all the support you need,” your professor waffled on as you simply stare into her face absorbing all the information she’s blurting at you. 

“Is that all?” 

“Yes that’s all. I’ve scheduled your first meeting for tomorrow afternoon. I checked both your timetables to make sure you were both available. You’ll be meeting in the library at 1pm. And remember, if I hear that you haven’t showed up, then I’ll have to deal out more severe consequences.” 

With even more information being darted in your direction, your mind wanders to the plans you made with your friends for lunch tomorrow. Guess that’ll have to be cancelled then. 

You let out a sigh of frustration as you thank your professor and walk out the room with a grimacing look. How dare she ruin your plans like that. Just imagining the thought of a tutor sounded like hell. This Kang Taehyun also seemed like a right old nerd. It’ll be surprising if he lasts more than a day with you. 

You were wrong. He lasted more than a day. In fact he lasted nearly 3 weeks of your bratty attitude which just refused to listen to anything he says, interrupting him mid-sentence to ask irritating questions or dozing off as he’s explaining a key concept. Even through the trials and tribulations, he still put up with you but you could tell that he each week he was getting closer to breaking point. He just needed one last push. 

Instead of the library, you asked if you could meet up at your house instead, using the fact that you were recovering from being sick last week as an excuse. Phase 1, complete. 

Taehyun arrives promptly at 1pm, tapping a rhythmic knock on your door. As if you were waiting for him, you opened the door within seconds revealing to you his casual outfit of a baggy t-shirt that he paired with dark wash straight leg jeans and a silver chain that hung comfortably around his neck. You may not have liked him much, but you appreciated his sense of style. Laid back but put together. 

Inviting him in, you direct him towards your room, telling him that that was where you worked best. You bought over an extra chair and placed it beside your own desk chair and you both pulled out your work materials. 

Without further ado, Taehyun begins the session, paying no attention to the change of setting that you hoped would throw him off. You were ready to move into phase 2 of your plan. 

Taehyun, being seated at your right proved to be advantageous as it allowed you the opportunity to make physical contact as you both move your hands at the same time, “accidentally” bumping your hand into his. 

You were also wearing your oversized pyjama shirt with a pair of black shorts underneath, your shirt unbuttoned quite low. Without drawing too much attention to yourself, you slowly push one side of the shirt down your shoulder, hinting at your black lace bra. You try and meet his gaze but his eyes were avoidant, only paying attention to his notes and whether or not you were writing them down too, which of course you weren’t.

“Can you please focus. We’ve got a lot to cover,” his eyes finally look up to meet yours giving you a stern glare. 

“I am focusing, aren’t I?” Your puppy eyes never worked on him but you were hoping that them playing with your bra strap might distract him. 

“Stop fiddling with your bra strap and pay attention,” his voice was commanding in a way that even you felt threatened into obedience. You also weren’t expecting him to be so direct. 

You pick up you pen and start copying down the notes as he explains them suddenly getting another idea. 

“Taehyun, I’m thirsty. I’m gonna get some water, do you want some too?” 

“Yeah, sure, get me a glass.”

You filled up two glasses of water in the kitchen, holding one in each hand and as you walk past him, you accidentally spill water on his shirt, leaving him soaking wet. 

“Fuck! What the hell?!” he yells, standing up in shock. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry! It was an accident. Let me get you a towel.” 

You giggled as you walk away towards the storage cabinet grabbing a new towel. But when you return, you see a sight you weren’t prepared for. 

Taehyun had removed his shirt leaving him flashing his hard abs and built muscles. Instead of turning around or covering your eyes, you stand there gawking at his physique. So this is what he’d been hiding under his baggy T-shirt the entire time. You move closer to him, handing him the towel to dry off. 

He wipes his body dry and passes you the towel back glaring into your eyes. 

“This is what you wanted to happen right? When you invited me to your house, I knew something was up. Fucking brat can’t just sit quiet and focus on her lesson.” He inches closer to your body, pushing you against the desk as he corners you. His face was now mere millimetres away, leaving you gasping. 

“Go on. Tell me what you want,” he instructs, his voice a little raspy, “What? Now you suddenly can’t speak? Guess I’ll just have to punish you then.” 

His hands grab onto your waist pushing you up to sit on your desk, moving away any pens and paper in the way. His fingers tuck your hair behind your ear as he continues to move them along your cheeks and jawline leaving lingering touches on your skin, sparking like jolts of electricity. As his hands reach your neck, his fingers wrap themselves around it, his grip slowly tightening. 

Your lips part as you pant for air when his other hand swipes a touch across your bottom lip before he inserts his thumb into your mouth, pushing it in and out. He removes his finger from your mouth letting out a pop sound. 

Before long, his hands move down your shirt, undoing any remaining buttons, stripping you of your shorts as you’re left almost naked, feeling bare in front of his gaze. 

He’s skilful in removing your bra, cupping both breasts as he squeezes them into his face, breathing in your scent. 

“Such perfect tits. You were desperate to show them to me, weren’t you?” 

“Taehyun, suck on them. Please,” your voice trembled as you begged him. 

“Such a desperate slut aren’t you. Unlucky for you, brats don’t get what they want.” 

He’s strips you of your underwear and his own, leaving you both naked when suddenly he picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he moves towards your bed. 

“Such,” spank,” A,” spank,” Brat,” spank. 

He drops you onto the mattress, and climbs over you. He moves up to your neck, sucking your sensitive skin rabidly, reddish purple marks appearing instantly. He moves along you collarbone sucking harshly while pinching your nipples, earning him a sharp moan. 

“Get on your knees.” He pulls you up by your hair and pushes you onto the floor as you become on eye level with his veiny cock. Your reactions to his hardness were instinctive: hands wrapping around the base of his shaft as your tongue swirls around the pink tip. 

“You don’t get to tease me ok, brat? Now suck my dick.” 

You feel your hair being pulled into a makeshift ponytail as he rams your throat up and down his cock, almost gagging you. 

You feel him twitch on your mouth and before he could cum he pulls out, taking away his own orgasm. 

Pulling you back up onto the bed, he places you on all fours as he grabs your waist firmly as his cock teases your entrance. Sliding in between the lips of your pussy, your wetness leaks out onto his dick, lubing it even more than your saliva. 

“Taehyun please just fuck me!” you whine, almost crying at the pain of his teasing. You needed him in you. 

Without warning he slams his cock into your core, hitting your cervix in one go. He continues to pound into you as he pushes your face into a pillow, muffling your moans as your tears leak onto the cotton. His dick is ruts against your gummy walls as he grunts with each swift push. You clench around his cock, feeling the veins as your wetness oozes out, dripping down your leg. 

“God your pussy is so good. Look at you, taking my cock so well, aren’t you? Only brats get fucked like this. Brats who don’t listen or pay attention. Brats who are so desperate. Brats who like to tease their tutor.” 

He’s now slamming into you at an unimaginable rate, your cries being heard even through the fabric of your pillow. The familiar sensation builds in your stomach. 

“Taehyun I’m gonna cum!” 

“Hold it. Only cum when I tell you to.” 

He’s ruthless with his speed, punishing your pussy over and over. His actions took over your entire body as your vision goes blurry even with your eyes closed and your legs shaking despite his support in holding you up.

“You can cum now.” 

You didn’t wait a second longer before your orgasmic wave comes crashing down sending ripples across your entire body when you collapse completely. At the same time, Taehyun cums inside your throbbing pussy, which remains pulsing even after he’s removed himself, pushing out the mixture of both your cum down your already wet leg. 

You’re left gasping for air once again, trying to catch tour breath after the intense sex. Taehyun leaves you alone on your bed to go put on his boxers and jeans, sweat dripping down his sculpted abs. 

“Oi, where’s my tshirt?” 

“It’s there.” You point vaguely behind you as you were unable to lift your head or body to help him out. 

He eventually finds it on the the radiator and at this point it had finished drying so he slips it back on and begins packing up his notes and stationery. 

“Same time next week. And maybe next time you’ll actually pay attention.” 

He waltz out, hearing the main door slam whilst you still lay in bed worn out. 

You don’t think you could ever focus in his tutoring classes again. Not when you knew how his cock felt inside you. His punishment failed. It only made you crave more. 

[moonselune]

Hello. May I get an Astarion x Tav story? Tav was secretly creating a blanket for Astarion by themselves, but he sees them working on it. Instead of immediately revealing that it's for him, they have him help make it until it's finished. 💕

Awwwwwwwwwww I love this xx

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x gn!reader : Sewn

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been secretly working on a special gift for Astarion—a finely crafted blanket. Each night, after everyone else had fallen asleep, and you were Astarion was out on his nightly hunt, you would take out the materials you had gathered from the day and quietly work on your project. The blanket was a tapestry of your shared adventures, each patch representing a memory or a place you had visited together. You were determined to finish it without him knowing, eager to surprise him with a gift that carried so much meaning. The gods knew he deserved it.

One evening, while you were diligently sewing a particularly intricate pattern, Astarion flounced into your tent, complaining that there was nothing good out in the woods to eat, eyelashes batting and a persuasive pout on his lips, intending to ask you for a little nibble.

“It's a travesty, truly I'm going to starve - Oh darling! What are you working on?” Astarion asked, his voice smooth and curious as he walked over to you.

You quickly tried to hide the blanket under your clothes you had laid out for tomorrow, but it was too late. His beady eyes had already latched on to it.

“Oh, just a little project. Nothing special,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Astarion raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “A little project, you say? It looks rather intricate for something trivial.”

Caught, you sighed and decided to take a different approach. “Alright, you caught me. It’s a blanket, and I could use some help with it. Care to join?”

His curiosity piqued, Astarion sat down beside you. “A blanket? How intriguing. What’s the occasion?”

You smiled mysteriously, not ready to reveal the full truth. “Let’s just say it’s for someone very special.”

Astarion’s eyes sparkled with interest as he took a seat next to you, and you handed him some thread and fabric. "Alright then, gods knows you need by help your thread work is positively backwards- ."

"-You don't have to help, me Astarion," You playfully chided him and he huffed settling down, not wanting to get kicked out of your tent. You smiled and the two of you worked in tandem, a bit of gossip shared between you.

As the days went by, Astarion grew more invested in the 'project'. You both spent hours working side by side, sharing the trials and tribulations of the day with each other. The blanket gradually took shape, and you had to admit that perhaps Astarion was a better sewer than you.

One evening, as the fire crackled and the blanket was nearly complete, Astarion paused, looking at the almost-finished product. “You know, this blanket is quite beautiful. Whoever it’s for is very fortunate indeed.”

You smiled, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “Very fortunate indeed, in face look here, Astarion," Taking a deep breath, you laid the blanket out in front of him. “This blanket is for you, Astarion. Every patch, every stitch, it’s all to remind you of our journey together.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened with an emotion you rarely saw—vulnerability. “For me?” he whispered, his voice almost trembling.

“Yes,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “I wanted to give you something that shows how much you mean to me. How much our time together has meant.”

For a moment, Astarion was silent, his eyes tracing the patterns and symbols on the blanket. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. “You crafty minx,” he murmured, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “You’ve managed to surprise me, and darling, that’s no easy feat.”

You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?” Astarion shook his head, his eyes shining with affection. “I love it. And I love you, my dear.”

Little short wholesome piece for y'all, hope you all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART V

—firsts, lasts and never agains

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! i know i owe you guys SO MUCH so here's a short lil chapter to quench your thirst. more on the way i promise!!! btw this isn't proofread so if u spot any mistakes hit me up. happy reading (or not cause the angst won once again besties, sorry in advance) <3

masterlist!

August 23rd, 2019 

Anaheim, California

You thought that having a shot of tequila would take off the edge of anxiety that had you shaking in your seat, but there you were taking another one, and the tingling in your hands still hadn’t ceased. "Want another?" Renata asked, a bottle in hand and a glint of worry in her eyes as she noticed your unsteady movements. You shook your head; you wouldn't risk it with a third. She waited until the hair and makeup team left the room before putting a hand on your shoulder, the cold of her ring pressing into your skin. "You want to talk about it?"

"It's just nerves," you mumbled, toying with your fingers, trying to brush off her concern. But Renata wasn't convinced, her gaze piercing through your facade. "Is it because of—" she said before you cut her off.

"No," you interrupted firmly, not wanting to dive into that topic. Renata nodded, understanding your reluctance. She simply squeezed your shoulder in silent support, knowing damn well what it was about. As she started to lead you out of the room, you continued. "We haven't seen each other in months."

There it is.

"And the last time we talked, he basically told me he didn't want to do anything with me." Renata's eyes softened; her empathy evident. "He didn't say that," she murmured, her grip on your shoulder tightening.

Your eyes met hers, filled with anger and confusion. "He did. He slept with me and then decided that was it." Renata's expression turned grim as she guided you out of the halls and onto the red carpet. She knew there was more to it than what you were letting on, but who was she to pry?

She faced you while gently fixing your hair as you continued. "But I'm with someone else now, and I'm happy, and I just need to get my shit together." Renata nodded. "You deserve to be happy and move on from this," she said softly.

The chatter of everyone on the carpet and the click of cameras surrounded you both, louder than before. "It'll be just a couple of interviews and photos now. After that, you and—" she hesitated.

"It's okay, you can say his name, Ren."

"You and Pedro will be taken into a photo studio for the official portraits," Renata finished. "Let's just make this quick and painless."

"I can assure you this will be everything except quick and painless," you replied with a forced smile, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. "But I appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood." She mouthed sorry for a moment before leading you both towards the line of press, where the bright lights and flashing cameras awaited. As you stepped into position to talk to the reporters, you reminded yourself to take a deep breath and stay composed, knowing that it would be okay.

•••

It was, in fact, not okay.

The groan that escaped your lips and the rolling of your eyes were unavoidable. You'd managed to stay clear of him for as long as you could—a complete victory by your standards—and now, with only seconds before you escaped, the very man you had tried to evade appeared before you.

Being within meters of him now, all those firsts, lasts, and never agains were as sharp and vivid as they'd ever been, forming a knot of unease in your chest that made breathing difficult. You hadn't spoken yet, both preoccupied with the rush of media attention surrounding you.

Nonetheless, you took quick glances at him whenever you could.

"Time for the portraits," Renata whispered, as you finished talking to a reporter for the LA Times. "Looking forward to seeing the show!" you nodded, trying to keep your smile in place as you followed Renata. It was a small room with bright lights and a white backdrop, but all you could focus on was the man standing across from you, getting his hair touched up by a stylist. Your own team hovered around you, adjusting your outfit and makeup, but your eyes kept drifting back to him.

The photographer introduced herself, and you were instructed to stand in the middle of the backdrop. You looked each other up and down. God, he looked good, you thought. And then you cursed yourself. Your groan at the sight of him was barely audible, but Renata shot you a knowing look.

"You kinda stole my look," he said, raising an eyebrow. The audacity of this man was infurating. How dare he, after what happened, address you so casually, like nothing has changed between you two?

"Hm, no, you kinda stole my look," you retorted, no emotion in your voice. The tension between you was palpable as the photographer began snapping photos, capturing the silent competition between you two. He was wearing a floral shirt that perfectly complemented your own outfit—a corset-like black top with floral details and black dress pants. However, one little detail caught your eye: the shiny gold chain decorating his neck.

Stop, don't go there. It suddenly became necessary to wash away the awful thought that little piece of jewelry was attractive in the slightest and that cold shower and glass of wine you had been looking forward to at home would now have to happen—but instead of a glass, it would be a whole bottle.

"Okay guys, now let's take some shots pretending to laugh together," the photographer suggested, breaking the tension. You both shared a forced smile, trying to outdo each other in the fake laughter department. "And get closer, please," she added, gesturing for you to move in towards each other. As you leaned in, you couldn't help but notice the faint scent of his cologne. "Pedro, put your arm around her waist," the photographer instructed, prompting Pedro to look down on you.

"Can I?" he asked, ever so politely. The question transported you to a room in Chile, where the tips of his fingers were under your shorts and your mouths were enticingly close.

Stop, stop, stop.

"Sure, whatever," you replied, trying to shake off the memories flooding back. Pedro hesitated for a moment before standing behind you and gently placing his arm around your waist—a moment of unexpected intimacy as your hand followed and rested on top of his. The photographer snapped the picture just as you forced another smile, masking the turmoil within.

"Are we done?" Pedro asked, his voice rumbling in your ear. Despite his complaints, he enjoyed doing photoshoots. They catered to his need to show off.

"Yes, we have everything we need. Thanks guys!"

Both of you quickly separated, relieved to put some distance between yourselves. You didn't say another word as you both gathered your things and headed out of the studio, tension lingering in the air, unsure of what would come next and hating every second of the awkwardness that now hung between you.

•••

The D23 Expo was not turning out to be the fun experience you had hoped for. You've been sitting in the panel room with the rest of the cast and crew for about half an hour, actively avoiding eye contact with the source of your anxiety. Dave was talking about what a huge honor it is to continue his Star Wars journey with a live action series, having previously only worked on animated projects. Jon followed suit, expressing his excitement for the opportunity to develop the series on a more cinematic scale.

Everyone was buzzing with enthusiasm, but you.

"Now I'm going to give the floor to the fans for any questions," the moderator announced, turning towards the crowd with a smile. A teenager in the front row was handed a microphone, anticipation rippling through the audience as she prepared to ask her question.

"Hi, my name's Sarah, and I just wanted to say how thrilled I am for this new series. I am a huge fan of Star Wars, and pretty much everyone here," she said, "especially you and Pedro," gesturing towards you and finally asking the question you've successfully avoided answering all night. "I know you've been friends for a long time. Can you share any behind-the-scenes stories from filming, and how was it working together on this project?"

"Oh, they have a lot. These two were menaces on set," Jon interjected, eliciting laughter from the audience. You exchanged a knowing glance with Pedro before sharing a bright smile with the girl. "I think Jon is specifically referring to the time I broke Pedro's nose and ended up in the hospital."

The audience erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps, clearly entertained by the unexpected revelation as you continued to recount the hilarious mishap. "But yeah, overall, it was definitely a fun and memorable experience working together. We had some great times on set, despite the occasional injury," you added with a chuckle.

"Yeah, she's a brilliant scene partner; I wouldn't change a thing about it," Pedro chimed in, nodding in agreement. If you didn't know better, you would think he actually meant it. The girl beamed at the two of you, clearly enjoying the interaction between you and Pedro, oblivious to the fact that you couldn't wait to get out of there and never see him again.

The moderator intervened, clearly interested in picking up more about the dynamics. "Now that it's been brought up, I was one of the few people who got to see the first episode yesterday, and I have to say there's a lot of on-screen chemistry between the two of you. Is it possible that a romantic relationship will develop in future episodes?"

The answer escaped from your lips instantly. "Not that we can confirm or deny anything at this point, but I think that these characters are very different and have a complex relationship that will continue to evolve as the series progresses, and maybe they work better as friends or allies rather than romantically involved." The moderator nodded, satisfied with the somewhat vague response.

Pedro's eyes caught yours, puzzled by the subtle shift in your tone, before adding, "But I wouldn't rule that out completely."

He was so infuriatingly annoying.

•••

You were in the same room; circling each other the entire day, but he still missed you so much that a brief moment of broken eye contact sent a deep ache cutting through his chest.

Pedro watched you exit the panel room, knowing that he needed to find a way to talk to you. He called your name, making you stop in your tracks and turn around, your face unreadable. Pedro hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally blurting out, "Hey, do you have a sec?"

He saw you reluctantly give your PA a nod, motioning for her to leave the both of you alone.

Pedro felt tension slip through him and iron in his spine, and he looked around swiftly to see if anyone was paying attention to them. He spotted a door leading to an empty room and gestured for you to follow him inside. As you both entered the room, Pedro closed the door behind you.

This conversation is inevitable.

Pedro waited for a moment before speaking. "We're working together, and will continue to do so."

"So?" your voice was cold and guarded.

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I think we should try to find a way to make it work."

"I think it's working well enough as it is," you replied, crossing your arms. Pedro couldn't help but laugh at your stubbornness. "Come on, we both know that's not true. You've avoided me all day. People are asking if things are okay between us."

"Isn't that what you wanted, though?"

Pedro shook his head. "What? I never said that."

"You might as well have," you spat back. "Because the way I see it, you don't want anything to do with me." He wanted to reach out, grab your hand and tell you that's not all what he meant but he stopped.

You are being so careful with each other now. It was breaking Pedro’s heart a little.

"That's not true. It drives me crazy when you won’t talk to me,” he muttered. "I…just didn't want to complicate things back then."

"Well, things got complicated the moment we slept together," you reminded him. "And that's on both of us."

Pedro sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry… I didn't handle that conversation very well. I was…" he can't bring himself to finish the sentence. "I don't know."

"You have a tendency of hurting my feelings, disappearing, and then coming back asking for forgiveness," your words come out measured and unexpectedly calm. Bordering on cold.

It was such a sharp, perfect little sting that it made heat pool in his stomach. It made him want to cry.

He said your name ever so tenderly, a plea in his voice.

"I don't know what you want from me," you say, a defeated tone lacing your words. "I moved on, and yet, you keep coming back, reopening old wounds. It happens every time. I can't keep doing this dance with you."

"Yeah, you moved on," and before he can stop himself, Pedro blurts out, dripping in sarcasm, "Quite fast."

Pedro still remembers the shiver that ran down his spine when he picked up his phone one morning, only to see you parading around with Daniel on social media. The worst part was that he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his response. He could tell it echoed through the small space and grated on your every last nerve.

"Fuck you."

A snarl forms on his face, and his upper lip slightly curls. His anger rising to match your own. "Is that all you have to say?" Pedro's voice is laced with bitterness as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. Your eyes burning through him, the air suffocating.

"I had to move on," you simply reply. "You should try it as well." you slipped past him, bumping into his shoulder as you made your way out of the room, leaving him there, trying to remember why he had convinced himself that everything was safer this way because you were too important to risk losing, when in reality, he had already lost you.

And Pedro tries not to love you. He really tries.

a/n: don't kill me please, i know. their time will come, i just need them to reaaaally go through it.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

[blackynsupremacy]

BEING NEIL FAK’S

GIRLFRIEND

HEADCANONS

pairing: neil fak x blackfem!reader

fandom: the bear (2022—)

i feel like no one really writes for fak and i love him as a character, so why not?

summary: neil fak has a girlfriend, but the guys think he’s bullshitting until she shows up for the opening night of the bear.

contains: lots of words, fluff, richie being richie, cursing, two people who love each other, hating ass motherfuckers, insecurity, fear of rejection.

• it was 2 weeks before the bear’s grand opening.

• neil, carmen, richie, and marcus were all having a smoke break outside in the back just kicking it.

• the guys were talking about various topics until carmy started asking for relationship advice.

• of course richie and marcus are putting in their two cents until they hear….

• “to be honest my girlfriend and i wouldn’t even have to go through that shit. we’d just talk it out and stuff our face afterwards! you and claire bear should do the same.”

• there was a deafening silence from the other men because that came from…fak. neil fak!

• what the guys didn’t know was that neil fak has been in an relationship with you for almost 2 months now. he’s been keeping it under wraps because he knew the guys would shit on him for it, but he had to come clean eventually. you always raved about him to your friends because you’re proud of the adorable, loyal, hilarious neil fak, so why shouldn’t he show the same energy?

• he was still a bit in denial that a woman is actually…attracted to him.

• marcus is like “whoa whoa whoa. hold the fuck up. fak…you got a girl?” he genuinely questioned. now, he was curious!

• carmen was confused as well, but he shrugged it off tbh. as long as fak was happy with someone he genuinely connected with.

• richie doesn’t hesitate to think it’s straight up bullshit. fak can’t talk to a woman without crashing out or making a bumbling fool out of himself. let alone being in a relationship!

• ouch! harsh, richie. fak inwardly cringed because he genuinely thought the same thing. he never really felt like he was good enough for that type of thing, but that sinking feeling disappeared at the thought of you when marcus asked how’d you guys met and got together.

• neil could recount that day a million times if he had to.

• you were living it up in your new apartment until your damn refrigerator broke. you didn’t want to go through the hassle of ordering a whole new one, so before doing that you decided to have someone to fix it.

• the only person you ever make an interaction with is your best friend, sydney adamu. you’ve been hyping her up as she goes through the trials and tribulations of rebranding the former restaurant known as “the original beef” to a new type of place.

• you called her up and explained your dilemma.

• “hey, syd. i got a stupid question.”

• “there are no stupid questions, (n/n).”

• you both chuckle at your inside joke, before informing her about the broken refrigerator and asking if she knew anyone who could fix it without charging an arm and a leg.

• “i might know a guy…he’s a bit of a character, but he’s got a heart of fucking gold and he mainly gets the job done. his name is neil fak, but we just call him fak at the restaurant. i’ll see if i can get him to come by tomorrow to look at it. if not, i’ll beat the shit out of him by denying my best friend’s broken fridge.”

• syd’s dry and chaotic humor never fails to make light of the shittiest situation. you quickly agreed because there’s no way you’re gonna let your food rot.

• the next morning, syd sent you a text that fak has accepted the job. you silently cheered and replied by sending her a time and your address to pass on the message.

• fak had been approached by sydney for a side job in the city. he accepted without any question because he could use the extra cash! he told sydney he could go over to your place asap once he knows the time and place. sydney did just that before he gathered all of the necessary equipment before making his way towards your home.

• he went up the stoop and pressed on the doorbell and waited about 10 seconds before he was beheld a vision. a vision with the most alluring, brown eyes and deep bronze toned skin. your natural hair was in the style you desired to be and it looked amazing! not to mention your inviting smile and melodious voice when you introduced yourself.

• “hey! you must be neil fak, right? i’m f/n l/n, i’m a friend of sydney’s.”

• you held out your hand for him to shake. to say that neil was nervous was an understatement. he stammered a bit before getting himself together, giving you an introduction of himself and shaking your hand. something occurred as you two touched hands. fuck, fuck, fuck! he thought as that touch alone made him feel— warm, tingly, safe? but what had him stressed was that his hands tend to get sweaty as shit when he’s nervous.

• “a-ah, y-yeah! i’m neil fak. just call me fak! um, so, uh, you have a broken fridge. let me say this if my fridge ever broke down like that, i personally think that i would fucking explode.”

• you stood there in silence for a millisecond before you burst out in laughter. fak took the words out of her mouth. you couldn’t deny that it was such a huge inconvenience especially to your love of snacks. “i know that’s right! you’re real for that. sydney has told me some good things about you, neil-er, fak. my bad! but seriously— i believe her when she said you’re a trip, but good people. you’re hilarious! ah, damn, i’m rambling. please come inside.” you stepped back to let him in and lead him to the issue in the kitchen.

• you couldn’t help, but catch a pleasant vibe from the mustached man that was rumbling through the inside and back of your refrigerator. as he was working, you guys just conversed as if you two weren’t strangers. you just clicked instantly!

• to some, fak may have looked like a sleaze with his loud voice, numerous tattoos, interesting fashion choices, short stature, and his bushy stache, but his qualities as a person overshadowed all of those things. deep down he’s caring, sensitive, outgoing, and sometimes he has his moments, but who doesn’t? he also wasn’t making any type of insensitive remarks or jokes (ifykwim).

• once he successfully fixed the fridge, you were so hyped that you gave that man a hug and an enthusiastic handshake thanking him for his help. you asked how much he charged and what payment method worked for him.

• he didn’t want to charge you that much or at all because your constant laughter at his stand up material was filling his heart more than his pocket. he really wanted your number, but he didn’t just want to ask for that without looking stupid, so he suggested apple pay and gave you a discount! smooth move, fak.

•you put your number in his phone, sent him the payment, and let him know that you were saving it because you would like to see him again more often whether it’d be for his services or not, so in a way you urged him to keep yours saved in his phone also.

• fak was crashing out on the inside. did you just say that you want to see him? more often? whether he’s fixing something or not?

•he kept his cool, gathered his equipment, and went on home. from that moment fak felt he found someone and someone found him. not just fixing things or cracking jokes, but for genuine company.

• from that day on, you and fak have been texting each other non-stop. checking in, sending memes, having deep conversations about the most insane topics, and laughing out loud late at night on the phone. sometimes he would come over to play a card game, watch a movie, or just kick it with some good food. you’ve never realized how much in common you and fak share. it was just the chemistry that drawn you too closer.

• ya’ll have been talking for about 3 weeks now and you can’t help but to admit that you care for neil…so much! you two are totally different people and to some, you’re built like you’re out of fak’s league. well, fuck whoever says that! looks doesn’t define who you want to spend your time with. everyone’s got their beauty. you could give 2 fucks if people talked about your connection with neil. you were just wondering if he felt the same.

• you invited him to your place to watch a jim carrey double feature of the mask and ace ventura: pet detective. you and fak have always agreed that jim carrey is a comedic genius.

• as you both sit on your couch and watch the credits roll, fak announces that he’ll leave, so that you can get some rest. you can’t sleep knowing you got these feelings and there’s this opportunity right in front of you. you hold on to his hand before he could take another step out of the door. your eyes not pulling from his. he raises his eyebrows as his pupils glint with expectancy, yet worry. he asks you if everything is okay and you swallow before you make your declaration.

• “fak…i need to ask you something. what do you think of me? do you think of me as just a friend? someone to kick it with? or someone to listen to your jokes, fears, hopes, and insecurities? am i someone that you would be proud of the way i’m proud of you? do you see more than just what’s on the outside?” you squeezed his hand.

• you paused to take a breath before you finish.

• “i don’t care what people say about our connection. i need to know because i can’t fucking take it anymore. neil fak, do you care about me the way i care about you?”

• neil was frozen. he absorbed every single syllable that came out of mouth. he has always had those same exact thoughts whether he’s helping to fix an appliance or you two are out trying a new restaurant that one of you recommended. fak thought he was too much of a chickenshit to even cross that line with you. he wanted so badly to express that you mean everything to him. you’re a fucking goddess to him and he’s just…fak. he can’t help, but get a little envious when richie, nat, and carmen had their respective partners while he was although happy for his friends, he was the 7th wheel.

•he’s calmer. he tries to see things with more of an open mind. hell, because of you he’s got a skincare routine! he feels ♾️ % with you if that makes sense. you don’t try to change him because you don’t need nor want to. you just want neil. that loveable person who doesn’t judge you. not just fak the comedian or the handyman.

• f/n…you’re so, so much more than that and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t say any of this sooner because i’ve been feeling like this ever since i’ve fixed that refrigerator. i want you to be happy and i want you to laugh a lot. i’ve never really been into this kind of thing before, so i don’t know what exactly i’ll be able to do for you, but i’ll always be by your side…if-if you want me to—mmph!”

•that was all you needed to hear before you pulled him for a kiss. it took him a moment to melt into it, so you started it off gentle and sweet as you wanted to take this relationship one step at a time, so you and neil would always ride the same wave together.

• after fak finishes retelling his friends how you guys came to be. they started bombarding him with all sorts of questions.

• “is she hot?” “what’s her name again?” “what does she do for a living?” “ have you guys fucked?” “do you have a pic of her?”

• fak was overwhelmed trying to answer each question except that fourth one which earned richie a whack to the head by carmen for asking some personal shit like that. “have some fucking class, will you?”

• fak refused to show any pictures you two share together. it was definitely not because he thought you were unattractive. fuck, no! you’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of breathing the same air with. like he thought before, the guys (especially richie) would think he’s got the pictures of the internet or some shit. he had a way better idea than that: he was going to invite you to opening night to watch him work and make these fuckers eat their words. he told them to watch for the girl in the red dress and the name for the table is f/n.

• 2 weeks til open has passed and the bear is now ready to welcome the community with open arms.

•everyone was shitting bricks, but they’ve worked their asses off for this vision and they can’t pussy out now.

• fak had tingles from head to toe.

• you and him usually had casual outings, so it would be the first time you saw him in his brown suit and you in that red dress you ordered from fashion nova for this event. it looked good on the model of the pic you sent, but fak’s round face flushed with red envisioning the clothing on you.

• the doors flipped open and the patrons for the first night of many are greeted by fak or richie then escorted to their tables as their meals are being meticulously prepared.

• richie’s eyes are perusing around the place before they stop on a feminine silhouette and— holy fucking shit. who is she?

• the red satin accentuated her body. highlighting every bump and curve. the dress had spaghetti straps and was low-cut, exposing the shimmering, melanated skin of her arms and chest. her hair was curled and styled to perfection as the amber hue in her pupils are made noticeable by the violet eyeshadow that was applied on the lid as well as her full lips were painted like a red candied apple.

• goddamn, she was like a fucking…real life jessica rabbit, but hotter. if it wasn’t for whoever the lucky bastard is with her, eva would’ve had a new stepmom a-fucking-sap!

• his trance is broken from a female voice. “excuse me, i have a reservation under the name, f/n. my boyfriend works here actually. i think i see him right over there!”

• cue the record scratching. richie may forget alot of things, but he never forgot when fak told him and the guys about this mysterious girlfriend of his named…holy fuck!

• the girl in the red dress. f/n. it’s you! you’re the one who stole neil fak’s heart. richie was feeling like the biggest idiot in the universe as he saw fak catch your glimpse from across the room before excusing himself from a table and power walking in your direction to take you into a loving embrace before you plant your ruby lips on his mustached ones.

• you just couldn’t help yourself! you know he’s at work, but he looks so cute and professional in his brown suit and slicked back low ponytail. he’s also wearing that new cologne you randomly gifted him and now you really don’t want to leave his side. your man, your man, your man.

• neil took it upon himself to escort and seat you at your table. he enthusiastically explains tonight’s menu with such confidence and passion as you peer lovingly at him through your lashes with a palm under your chin. if it were physically possible, you would have literal hearts in your eyes.

• don’t you just love it when your partner is in their element? he was made for this and you were so proud.

• fak excuses himself back to the kitchen to find richie already crashing out to carmy and marcus.

• “guys! it’s fak’s girlfriend. she’s fucking real…and hot as fuck! look out there at table 9, the broad in the red dress. that’s all fucking fak!”

• fak lets out an exclamation for richie to cool that shit down, but deep down he was eating it up as carmy and marcus peered out to see the hype at table 9 and what they saw had them gagged.

• marcus’ jaw dropped and his heart thumped at the sight of you. “oh…”

• carmy’s eyes looked upon you, his eyebrows raised as his cheeks fluttered with red, finishing marcus’ sentence, “shit.”

• he already felt bad considering the fact that he has a girlfriend. (not for long after tonight)

• neil grinned as the guys gave their envious, but sincere congratulations to him before they got too distracted to get back to work.

• neil fak was indeed blessed as he waved at the woman in red at table 9. his abdomen rumbled with butterflies when you waved back and blew a good luck kiss in his direction.

• yes, you were all fak, but fak was all you too.

[torusangel]

My love, mine all mine | Gojo Satoru

Description: A boy who has everything, and a girl who only has her love.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of abuse (not by Toru), maybe more but this is what I got right now

A/N: Inspired by Mitski of course. I wrote this all in one sitting and I’m just posting this preview of it to gauge interest right now to see if I should continue this or not! I kinda want to change it but I also think it’s charming so why not just put it out there and see how it goes? This isn’t edited or proof read at all either so might be a mess lol

People told you often that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Never one to shy away from how you really felt, you floated through life leaving your emotions to run free. You laughed, cried, hurt, and loved. Maybe loved too much, too strongly, too powerfully because the love you gave away would end up growing so strong that it hurt you too. There were people in your life who gave you love as well, but you soon realized that people could take that love away. Leave you with only your love to give, nothing else was ever yours, their hearts too easily taken back, promises broken without the bat of an eye, their whispers washed away by the wind.

You wanted to protect your love. After all, love was all you had left. As a little girl fairy tales and stories of princesses with their perfect prince gave you imagination. You dreamed of such devotion, for someone to sweep you off your feet and make you feel like the most precious girl in the world. You held love close to your heart. It’s what made you strong, and yet so fragile. Love fluctuated like that. Some days it’d have the power of a raging storm, able to tear down anything in its path, and some days it’d be so weak and meager that it would break with the flick of a finger. It was inconsistent.

Ever since you were a child your mother was the one who so adamantly taught you about love. She’d tell you how love was the most important thing in life, how you should never give up on your love and to hold onto it and never let it go. How love was what kept you alive. To live without love wasn’t living at all, and the importance of giving love. You saw her crumble and break under life’s trials and tribulations, the way she’d fall when your father hit her. You saw her dance in the living room all alone to music you couldn’t hear and the way her smile grew when you said you’d give your love to her. Your mother through all her hardships still had so much love to give. Sometimes you wondered if the reason your father was so angry was because he knew he didn’t have all of her.

Satoru grew up with everything. Born into a prestigious family, money bought him whatever he desired. He was the definition of spoiled through and through. He never found it strange that his father was always gone and his mother refused to look at him. Everyone around him said he was so lucky, so that’s how he always thought. People admired him, and as he grew up he realized he could make anyone love him. Satoru knew he was handsome, paired with his wealth he found that was the key to make anyone he wanted fall for his charms. Gojo Satoru always got everything he wanted except you.

When he first met you it was at the cafe on campus. Something about the way you carried yourself drew him in. He saw you and the confidence you held, the beauty in your stride, and he knew he had to have you.

When he first approached you that day you thought he was strange. He’d asked you out without a care if you rejected him or not, you later realized it wasn’t that he didn’t care he just never knew rejection in the first place. He said he’d take you anywhere you wanted.

“The moon, could you take me to the moon?” you asked him in earnest. For a split second you noticed his face change from flirty to confused but he easily bounced back.

“I’ll take you right now, how about it?”

Not one to say no to an interesting opportunity, you accepted.

[gothicgunslinger]

Inspired by : https://open.spotify.com/track/1hrar0wbUsvgSUpUXR5Wq0?si=SgEVGItEQOeXVQm3ZqidSQ

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A/N : I just HAD to write an actual piece for this post so, here we are. Sorry to my RDR2 followers, I hope you don't mind the small detour.

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Content : Fluff, maybe a bit of angst? Smut, but, fluffy smut? You’ll see. Implied Cleric reader, as.. my tav is a Cleric LOL! Fem reader, as I'm writing this .. once again, as a woman haha apologies ♡ Sort of written from Astarion’s perspective.

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It was simple, really. All Astarion had to do, was wrap you around even the slight of his pinky finger. Kiss you enough, fuck you enough, drink you enough. Simplicities, for someone like him. And, at first, that stance hadn't changed – hadn't faltered, hadn't a shred of doubt. You were merely a glass of fine, red wine who smiled, so sweetly, up at him – and he smiled back.

Well, that was until you weren't.

Wine glasses, to people, are mundane things. Things they don't think twice about, things that they use.

Though, for some, perhaps a wine glass was a gift. Something special, something precious – they'd never want it to shatter, to lose it. And, Astarion felt himself unfortunate enough to understand this, now.

He winced, everytime you were injured during the multitude of fights that your band of misfits so often found themselves in. He despised you, at times, for using that damn warding bond.

"Astarion, wait! Before we go anywhere!" You would hurriedly call out, rosy cheeked – perfect hands in poise as you cast your magic, swearing him from any harm; only to deal that harm directly to yourself. And you did so with a warm, wide smile, even when your skin was destined to be bloodied.

Astarion was always quick to help you back up, on your feet – it was all, 'part of the act’. Though, Wyll wasn't fooled, not one bit.

"Here let me–" And his hand was swiftly swat away by Astarion, like a petulant child. "No!" He'd hiss, as stereotypical vampires would (albeit, that he's 'only a spawn', and yada yada). Astarion's movements were uncharacteristically careful as he rest your head upon his knee, delicate fingers fixing any misplaced strands of hair. The hair he loved so dearly, that looked so perfect on you.

Wyll watched with his brow raised, and head notably cocked to the side – arms folded over his chest. Despite the trials and tribulations of his life, Wyll knew love when he saw it. And he saw it in Astarion's eyes.

Whatever you wanted to name this.. predicament – it plagued Astarion’s mind. Worse than that cursed tadpole squirming around the grooves and crevices of his skull. In fact, he was sure he’d much rather transform into a mindflayer – be free of these, complicated feelings. These fleeting thoughts, and constant questions. If he were sensible, no, if he weren’t a coward – Astarion knew that simply talking with you, being honest, abandoning his bravado would be the solution to such a grandiose problem.

Still, he continued to narrowly and expertly avoid the conversation – swift, unserious as ever. Until, that is, the trapper became the trapped.

“You’re not enjoying this, are you?” You’d asked, his head between your thighs – tongue, lapping at your weeping cunt. Red, terrified eyes peer up – before, the rest of the face paired with them, followed. “What? Of course I am, darling.” By Astarion’s standards, that was a terrible lie. And you knew it, just as much as he did.

“Astarion, I think we’ve reached the point of me having the right to say, ‘talk to me.’ So, talk to me, please?” Of course, you had to be so kind. To look at him like that – begging, doe-eyes, reddened cheeks and parted lips. Gods damn him.

“Fine, I– sex isn’t easy for me. I feel like.. I’m just, abusing it. Using you, while also.. feeling used? I don’t– I don’t know. I hadn’t expected you to notice.” His eyes flit to the bedroll beneath the two of you, brows knitted in frustration, vulnerability. Your hands reach out, cupping his cheeks in your palms with such tenderness that he was sure he could feel his chest tighten – a lump, swell in his throat.

“Then, why don’t I show you how to make love, instead? It might.. feel better. Let me, let me take care of you. Show you, how I feel.” You suggest, voice softer than he was sure he’d ever heard it. Wordlessly, Astarion nods, his fingers curling around your wrists tentatively.

Your lips, press to his forehead – the bridge of his nose, each cheek, both corners of his lips. All he can do, is let you. His defence crumbling with each shared breath between you. His walls, tumbling down, brick by brick.

Featherlight, your fingers grace his neck – tips, trailing the outline of his bite. Those, wretched, puncture wounds that would forever scar his flesh – alongside other things.

“I haven’t met many like you in my lifetime, Astarion. But, I’m assured you’re the most beautiful creature I’ll ever lay eyes on.” His jaw clenched.

“I’m a monster, darling.”

“Are you? I don’t see a monster, here.” You part from him, only to reposition yourself at his back. He shivers, as your lips brush his tainted flesh – pretty, pink mouth, brinking the outline of his ‘gift’. Astarion huffs, “What are you doing? You needn’t pay mind to something so unsightly.”

“I want this to mean something else to you. I want you to remember this, us. Not Cazador.”

Gods, you had to stop. How are you so.. perfect? So, forgiving?

Your arms lace around his waist, your chest pressed flush to his back – chin, upon his shoulder, granting you the access you’d needed to litter kisses at the nape of his neck. “Feel with me,” You murmur, between planted kisses, “See me, as I see you.”

Finally, Astarion moves. His hands envelope your own, cold yet careful, drawing your arms from around his waist – guiding you on top of him, as he lay upon his back. You follow his direction with ease, and without question. Obedient, like the good pup you always were for him. And him only.

He breezes a hand through your hair, gazing up at you – eyes dancing over your features, over every freckle and crease. There is something different in his eyes.

“I do see you.”

Silence. Though, you tilt your head – one of your many, endearingly inquisitive quirks. Astarion continues, “I.. I don’t recall being in love with anybody. Courting and sex were both equal schemes to successfully provide victims for Cazador. It never meant anything else, it couldn’t. But you.. you’re here, and I..”

Your thumb trails his lower lip, and there’s a devastatingly beautiful look upon your expression. “Thank you.” Is all you say, and Astarion felt it was enough. Acceptance. Yes, he needed that.

Your lips reunite, and Astarion chokes back a soft sob. You shake your head, “Feel.”

Tears stream his cheeks, as you pepper kisses to his neck, his collarbones, and his chest. Had this been anyone else, he’d have been humiliated. But, it’s you. It’s you and he feels safe.

Still, he can’t help the, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry..” that pours from his mouth. To which, you simply shush him, tongue circling his nipple – making his thighs tense. With a sniffle, his fingers bury in your hair – tightening whenever you flicked the tip of your tongue, in a way that he liked just a little too much. Well, speaking as though you could ever be too much for him.

A strained moan escapes him, as your thighs settle either side of his hips – as you sink down, sheathing him inside of you. Up, and down, at a steady pace, your legs agreeing to suffer the twinging ache and pain. Astarion’s hands are at your hips, then your waist – where they stay, occasionally running over the curve.

Your walls flutter around him, and he whimpers – loud enough to bypass the typical, wet sounds of your sex. Astarion is a man of many talents, including his ability to last in bed – even with a woman as magnificent as yourself. But like this? He wasn’t sure he stood a chance, throbbing – his eyes squeezed shut.

All knowing as you are, you quicken your pace, “Come for me, my love. Come for me, it’s okay, it’s alright.”

Oh, if only you hadn’t asked so nicely. Right on the cusp, Astarion now crashes – tips over the edge, filling you to the brim with a strangled whine. In praise, you shower him in kisses – despite his skin being glazed in sweat, his hair sticky upon his forehead – curls haphazardly strewn.

“I think I like you best when you’re a little messy.” You half-confess, smile evident in your voice.

“I wish you didn’t.” Astarion grumbles, in his usual fashion – still, you notice a flicker of a smile in response to your own that you wear.

“What else do you wish?” You ask, gently.

“That you knew how much I love you..” He wasn’t sure he meant to say that aloud.

“I think I know already.”

[thevegandarkelf]

Taken Care Of

18+, MINORS DNI

Masterlist

AO3 link

This oneshot features my OC Lydia Vector (from my story 'Finding Myself, Finding You') & Daryl Dixon (TWD) after they've officially gotten together. I was going to wait until I had posted all the chapters of it to post this, but it's getting too difficult to restrain myself. It isn't necessary to read the story beforehand, but some things from it will be referenced in this piece. If you love smut with fluff, feelsy smut (as someone on AO3 called this), and Daryl being a massive softie for his partner, then this one's for you.

Lydia/Vec/Vector (she goes by all of those) (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

As their relationship continues to strengthen, Lydia & Daryl begin exploring things in the bedroom. After many trials and tribulations, Lydia finally feels she's ready to take things all the way.

This is my first time ever writing smut, so please go easy on me. Constructive criticism is appreciated (emphasis on constructive), but please be gentle or I'll cry.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC

Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors

Word count: 7.3k

TW: referenced/mention of/allusion to sexual trauma, mention of panic attacks

CWs: swearing, smut (duh), oral sex (female receiving), p in v with protection (wrap it before you tap it my friends), gentle sex, Daryl losing his p in v virginity, dirty talk, praise kink, body worship (maybe? idk?), grinding, hand job (sort of), nipple stuff, a lil' bit of post-orgasm crying from our girl. Let me know if I forgot any!

“You’re practically drooling, Vec,” Rosita laughed, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I was only half-present in my response.

“Leave her,” Maggie giggled, “she’s off in her own little world.”

Winter had come to Alexandria, gracing our presence with its ice-cold temperatures and early sunsets. Snow hadn’t fallen yet this season, but it was certainly getting cold enough to do so. I had to break out some jeans and long sleeves, packing away my usual attire of shorts and sports bras for the next few months. Rosita, Maggie and I were sat on the front porch of Maggie & Glenn’s place. Rosita and Maggie had taken the opportunity to have some wine, saying they needed a way to warm themselves from the inside due to the cold. I skipped the alcohol, opting to warm myself with some tea instead. That and Daryl’s leather jacket. Even when he hadn’t been wearing it, his jacket still carried his warmth like it was storing it just for me.

When he was getting ready, I’d tried to convince him to put on his jacket, but he insisted I wear it, telling me he would be fine with a couple of flannels and his poncho. I believed him, as the layers combined with how warm he was all the time would surely keep him nice and toasty, but I also knew his weakness was seeing me in his clothes. That was further corroborated by how handsy he’d been that morning.

He was covering gate duty for the day, his crossbow locked and loaded in his arms, ready to take out anyone or anything that came too close. I was watching him, my mouth slightly agape, dissociating as the corners upturned into a small, delirious smile. There was nothing special or different about his appearance today, but he was looking particularly handsome.

I could’ve been ovulating, but I was down so bad for that man, I didn’t need to be ovulating to be drooling over him.

Rosita pretended to pick something up off the porch and held her hand out to me, palm up, the invisible object resting on it. “Here, I picked your jaw up off the floor for you. You’ll probably want it back. Y’know, so you can use it later.”

“Rosita, please. How many times do I have to tell you that your voice carries?” I snapped.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she teased, chuckling softly and taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re one to talk,” I sassed, “your mind practically lives in the gutter.”

“Let her ogle her man,” Maggie retorted. She swirled her wine glass in her hand, the red liquid spiraling up around the sides and nearly spilling over the edge, before taking a sip. “How are things with you two anyway?”

“Fantastic. It’s…it’s like a dream being with him,” I gushed. My eyes fell to my notebook, and the blood was rushing to my cheeks before I had even finished my sentence.

Daryl and I had been official for a few months now, probably four if I had to guess, though no one around here religiously kept track of dates. He treated me like a queen, doting on me despite any sort of little pushback I gave. I was Miss “I’m hyper-independent, let me do it myself,” and I’d met my Mr. “I know you can, but sit down and let me.” And I won’t lie, it had me weak. He was a goddamn angel. I got to wake up next to him each morning and fall asleep next to him each night. Daryl was perfect in every way. Being with him was perfect in every day.

“Still haven’t figured out how to stop blushing, I see,” she laughed. A small smile crossed my lips, and a breathy laugh escaped my nose.

“Daryl thinks it’s cute,” I replied, craning my head in her direction, “doesn’t exactly incentivize me to want to stop.”

There was a tension that hung in the air as Maggie began to ask me her next question. “So…have you...ummm—“

That tension was quickly cut by the sharp knife that was Rosita Espinosa. “How’s the sex?”

“Rosita!” Maggie & I gasped in unison. I gently whacked her arm with my notebook.

“I am not giving you any details about that,” I huffed. My cheeks were quickly turning red once again.

“I told you she wasn’t going to share anything,” Maggie whined, leaning back to talk to Rosita behind me.

I looked back and forth between them before burying myself back in my notebook. “I can’t believe you two.”

Even if I wanted to, truthfully, there wasn’t a whole lot to share.

Our sex life was a journey for the both of us. Daryl was a virgin before we began being intimate. I had given him a crash course in sex ed prior, as the little knowledge he did have about women came from his brother. And frankly, it was horribly inaccurate. Daryl said Merle was degrading when he talked about women, only discussing them in the context of sex and how it was for him. Couldn’t say I was surprised that he never bothered to try to teach Daryl how to please a woman. That didn’t matter to me though. Not having experience in pleasing women meant I got to teach him everything from pleasure points to dirty talk to my praise kink. And Christ, he was a quick learner.

It took some time for him to get confident in the dirty talk department, but he’d quickly mastered that skill once he saw how I responded to it. I had no issues going down on him. Getting comfortable with him going down on me took a bit more work, but he was nothing short of patient and understanding. Early on in that journey, there were times where I’d ask him to talk me through what he was doing, such as telling me where he was going to place his hand before doing so. That didn’t leave any room for surprises, and since I found his voice relaxing, there was a soothing aspect to it too. At first, I was worried he might find it silly, but he never did, Not once. More than anything, he was flattered that I found his voice comforting enough that I wanted to listen to it in our most intimate moments. We’d never gone all the way, but we’d come close a few times.

It had been a few weeks since we last tried, and I’d decided today was the day I was going to tell him I wanted to try again.

I’d been hyping myself up all day, even picking out a matching bra and panty set for later to boost my confidence. If you know, you know. I so badly wanted to experience him in that way. It was almost difficult to put into words how much my body craved him, ached to feel him in the most intimate way. But my brain always had to rear its ugly head and ruin it. It was simply doing its job—trying to protect me from the trauma that lied deep within the recesses of my mind. I couldn’t be too mad at that. My body tingled with nervous energy—excited nerves, anxious nerves, anticipatory nerves—and despite the butterflies in my stomach, I had a good feeling about this one.

“I’m sorry,” Rosita apologized, “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Or at least not been so crass about it.” I peered up at her over the brim of my glasses before adjusting them on my nose.

”I’m sorry too. We just want to know you’re…being taken care of,” Maggie assured.

I chuckled softly. Being taken care of…what a cute euphemism, I thought.

“You both know I can’t stay mad at you.” I looked up and watched Daryl as I continued. “It’s nothing personal, of course. It’s just…it would feel wrong to share details. I know he doesn’t talk about me like that. It wouldn’t feel right to do it to him.”

“We won’t bring it up again,” Maggie promised. She leaned back again, craning her neck to look around me. “Right, Rosita?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Right.”

“I won’t give you nitty gritty details, but I can assure you I’m being taken care of.” I smiled as Daryl turned in my direction, giving me a little nod. “That’s all you’re gonna get.”

I spent some more time with Rosita and Maggie before going home, gathering my notebook and tumbler and walking down the dirt path with an extra pep in my step. I wanted to get home before Daryl so I could get changed and spend some more time hyping myself up. Letting myself inside, I kicked my boots off and went upstairs, eager to change into the cute lingerie set I’d picked out. It was one I’d gotten months ago on a department store run, one that Daryl hadn’t seen yet. One that I’d been saving for a special occasion such as this.

I took the set out of my drawer and quickly undressed, tossing my clothes blindly behind me into some far corner of the bedroom. He could be home at any time, and I wanted to be ready, as well as be able to have some time to myself. I took one of Daryl’s black flannels and tossed it on, leaving it unbuttoned to show off my lingerie. I’d chosen a matching black set, the cups on the bra and the cheeky panties made entirely out of lace. My sternum tattoo peaked out from underneath, the blue flowers adding a pop of color to my dark attire. I adjusted my breasts in the cups, careful not to let my nails snag and tear the delicate fabric. I fidgeted with the straps to make it as comfortable as possible. I wore a 34B, so I met the criteria to join the itty bitty titty committee. My smaller chest had always been an insecurity of mine. I had a smaller frame, so my smaller breasts and butt looked proportionate on me. However, even I couldn’t escape the pre-apocalypse pressure of women’s beauty standards. Daryl didn’t care though. He didn’t care what size my itty bitty titties were or how big or small my butt was. He loved every square inch of me. Plus, he was just happy to be able to see me naked. I chuckled softly to myself as I recalled the first time Daryl saw my bare chest.

“Why ya got your eyes covered?” he’d asked as I approached him, topless and with my face buried in my hands.

“I don’t wanna see the look on your face when you don’t like what you see,” I said, my voice muffled by my hands and my cheeks quickly growing hot. I’d stopped in the hall and waited, anxious wiggling my toes as I heard him step closer. I could hear him laughing softly and feel him eyeing my bare breasts.

“Damn girl, ya got a nice rack,” he replied in an attempt to make me giggle. His hands fell to my hips and pulled my body against his before they wandered up to my hands, removing them from my eyes. I blinked them open, my baby blues meeting his for a brief moment before he kissed me, soft and tender, just like he always did. “Don’t got nothin’ to be shy ‘bout. You’re perfect.”

I fluffed my hair in the mirror, sweeping my bangs out of my eyes and running my fingers along my scalp. I smiled softly and did a few twirls, the hem of Daryl’s flannel flowing around my hips. The outfit was already boasting my confidence, and I knew Daryl was going to love it. He adored lace on me, and that combined with me wearing his shirt was going to drive him wild. I stepped around to the nightstand on my side of the bed and pulled the drawer open, checking to make sure there were still condoms inside, which there were. I rubbed my arms with my hands to try to keep warm. I could’ve put some pants on or threw a blanket around myself, but I wanted my lingerie to be on full display the second Daryl walked through the door. Plus, I’d be wrapped up in his warmth soon enough.

I was filled to the brim with nerves, both good and bad. Of course I was anxious. This would be a new step for us, a step we’d tried to make several times before. Unfortunately, my trauma always got in the way. But I was also excited. Excited to break boundaries, excited to slide into bed and be pleased by him in a new way. Excited to feel him in the way my body had been craving for months.

I heard the familiar creaking of the front door hinges, followed by the sound of Daryl’s bow clattering on the floor. I looked in the mirror and took one last deep breath before walking out. I rounded the corner from our bedroom and stepped out into the hall. The cold winter air that blew inside when he came in had quickly chilled the entire front of the house, the now icy wooden floor shocking my bare feet. I did my best to ignore the feeling.

“Hey handsome. Glad to see you home,” I called out as I made my way down the stairs. He kicked his boots off and turned around, the annoyed look on his face quickly turning into a flirty smirk as he laid his eyes on me. He folded his arms across his chest as he eyed me up and down.

“Lydia Rae, get your sweet ass over here,” he ordered. I skipped over to him, and he picked me up by the waist, spinning us around as he kissed me.

“I told you you’re not allowed to call me that,” I whined as he set me down. My arms remained draped around his neck, playing with the tag inside his shirt.

“Not unless ya’s in trouble.”

“Well what am I in trouble for?”

“For lookin’ so damn good.” His hands wandered down to my hips, his fingers fiddling with the sheer fabric of my panties. “This new?”

“Not new, no. I got this months ago. I’ve been saving it,” I explained. I dropped my eyes to the floor, wiggling my toes once again and scratching the side of my thumb with my index finger behind his head. I was already turning red. “Could we talk?”

“‘Course. What’s goin’ on?” he asked. My arms fell from around his neck to his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt as I often did when I was nervous. “Ya doin’ okay?”

“I’m okay,” I assured. I bit at the inside of my bottom lip. I was brimming with excitement, but the anxiety had my vocal cords in a chokehold. “I, umm…” I sighed and buried my face in his chest. “Shit,” I said under my breath.

Daryl kissed the top of my head and buried his nose in my hair, snaking his arms further around my hips to pull me closer. “Ain’t a mind reader. Gotta tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head o’ yours.”

“Fuck, this is harder than I thought.” I ran my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath as I did. I closed my eyes and let the words trickle off my tongue before my nerves could stop me. “I, umm…I think I wanna try again. No, sorry, not think. There’s no uncertainty. I wanna try again.”

There were a few beats of silence between that only lasted seconds, but in my mind, they lasted hours.

“Ya sure? Last time was…ya weren’t doin’ so good after that one,” he reminded.

He was right. Granted, every attempt had been similar to the last one, where I was left having a panic attack over who knows what trigger. But I’d done a lot of work on myself in the last couple of weeks, making sure there were no doubts in my mind about being ready.

“I’m sure.” I leaned my head up and kissed his cheek, which was quickly growing hot under my lips. “Very sure, baby. I’ve sat on it for weeks.” ‘Baby’ had become a pet name we only used to indicate to the other person we were in the mood & in the bedroom. 

He eyed me up and down again, his gaze lingering on the junction of my thighs. He’d seen me naked countless times now, but I still found my cheeks turning pink when he looked at me with lust in his eyes. As he closed the space between us again, he pulled my body firmly against his, encapsulating me in his warmth.

His tongue tickled my lips, silently seeking permission to enter. I parted my lips slightly, and our tongues tangled as his hands pulled at his shirt that hugged my body. I lowered my arms to allow it to fall to the floor, quickly bringing my hands back and tangling my fingers in his hair, tugging gently at his chocolate locks. My heart was pounding, the vibrations it sent through my chest radiating across my entire body. The butterflies in my stomach were working overtime. A soft moan escaped me, and he pulled away, gently nibbling my bottom lip as an amused chuckle trickled off his.

“We got condoms?”

“Already checked.”

“Then let’s get somewhere more comfortable.” He picked me up by the waist and held me close, coaxing me to wrap my legs around him. I draped my arms around his neck and continued to play with his hair, the faint scent of our coconut shampoo a sexy juxtaposition to his rugged appearance.

“Daryl Dixon, don’t you dare drop me,” I laughed as he took us upstairs.

“Ain’t ever dropped ya ‘fore, have I?”

We were hardly in the bedroom door before his lips crashed into mine again. Despite the cold, there was already a light sheen of sweat forming on his skin. Those familiar electric sparks tickled my skin, and I smiled into our kiss, remembering the first time I felt those sparks, back when we first met & I walked out of my bedroom door past him, our arms brushing ever so slightly as I did. If only me then could see us now.

He sat back on the bed, laying down and propping me on his pelvis to straddle him. I snickered as pressure built up underneath me. His erection was already begging to be freed from the confines of his pants.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” I giggled, trailing a finger down the buttons of his flannel, drawing little shapes and slowing down as I got lower, “you just get turned on really easily.”

“You’re one to talk,” he teased.

“I mean, look at yourself. Can you blame me?” I tried to lean down to kiss him, but he dug his work-worn fingers into the flesh of my hips to pull me back.

“Just wanna look at ya for a sec.” He held my hips in place with his firm grip, and the pink of my cheeks quickly turned to a rosy red as his cock continued to rise under me, coming in contact with my core. I bit my lip and averted my gaze. Even after all this time, it was nearly impossible to keep eye contact with Daryl when I was blushing. His eyes trailed up to my breasts, and I gathered my hair out of the way to allow him to get a better look. He was devouring every square inch of me with his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Ya change your mind, just say the word,” he reassured. He drew little circles on the front of my hip bones with his thumbs. The tone in his voice shifted to a more serious one as his gaze met mine. “I mean it. Ain’t gonna upset me at all. Don’t want ya pushin’ yourself just so’s I can get my rocks off.”

“I know. I won’t push myself, I promise.”

He pulled me down to his level, our tongues meeting once again. My panties were already soaked, wetness seeping through and coating his jeans as I grinded against him. Hitched, grunt-like moans escaped him, which only turned me on further. Daryl knew how much I loved when he was vocal in bed.

As I continued to straddle him, his hands found my bra clasp, unhooking it with one swift motion and allowing my breasts to fall free. I pulled away just long enough to slide the dainty fabric off and blindly throw it somewhere in the room. I began working at the buttons on his shirt, caressing his chest as I traveled south.

“Shit,” he moaned as I tossed my head back and shook my hair out. He gripped my hips again and rolled us over, pushing me onto my back and pressing his weight onto me. His mouth fell to the sweet spot on my neck, first leaving open-mouthed kisses, then licking and softly nibbling. A series of moans interlaced with soft giggles rolled off my tongue.

When we first began being intimate, him putting his weight on me used to be a big trigger of mine. Now, there was a safety in being underneath him, being protected by him when I was at my most vulnerable. I loved the feeling of his weight on me, and even in the most sensual contexts, it brought back those butterflies I used to get when we were getting to know each other.

His hands kneaded my breasts, his thumbs tweaking my nipples and eliciting little gasps from me. I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in every sensory experience, small waves of pleasure beginning to wash over me. I continued to blindly work at his shirt, which was almost completely unbuttoned now. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat with how hard and fast it was pounding.

Daryl trailed kisses down my neck to my chest, tracing little shapes with his tongue down to my breast. My head fell back on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and gritting my teeth as he flicked and sucked and licked the supple tissue.

“Goddamnit,” I groaned. I frantically tugged at his shirt, and he pulled away just long enough to rip it off and throw it over his shoulder before focusing his mouth back where it belonged.

He planted sloppy kisses along my sternum tattoo, leaving a light sheen of saliva behind, as if he was marking his territory. As he came back to kiss me, he put his weight on me again,

grinding his clothed cock on my core to the rhythm of his tongue swirling in my mouth.

I had to restrain myself from digging my nails into his back, as I worried the sensation might be too smilier to what caused his scars. I gripped onto the bedsheets for dear life, balling it in my fists with such force, I was sure my nails would tear right through them. The friction of his jeans against my clit was euphoric.

“Oh…God…fuck, yes.”

He chuckled and dropped his head to my neck, his soft lips and gruff voice tickling my ear like a feather as he talked. “Ya like that?”

“God yes,” I replied through gritted teeth, “don’t stop.”

He was rock hard, his erection pleading to be freed from its prison with each pass over my most sensitive area. He was practically throbbing in his jeans as he continued to grind into me, and feeling him twitch, knowing I was the one making him feel this good, only brought me closer to release.

“Shit.” His strained groaning in my ear sent tingles through my core.

“Ok…ok, that’s enough.” I tapped on his shoulder, indicating for him to stop. He did so immediately, panting in an attempt to catch his breath. As much as I was enjoying the feeling, I didn’t want to come just yet.

Daryl brushed some strands of hair out of my eyes and kissed my cheek. “Ya doin’ alright?” Even when he was in the throes of pleasure, Daryl always checked in with me throughout our intimate escapades, making sure I was comfortable.

“I’m great.” I lightly panted and nodded. “But you know what would make me feel even better?”

“What’s that?”

“If you put that skilled tongue of yours to use elsewhere.” The sexiest smirk I’d ever seen crossed his lips as blood rushed to my cheeks. Even after many sessions of mattress action, I was still timid in asking for what I wanted.

“Think that can be arranged.”

He kissed down my body, incorporating more of his tongue the lower he got. Every muscle in my body was clenched, and I fought to keep myself still. Stopping just above my panties, he slid the delicate fabric down my hips and off my legs, letting them naturally fall off my ankles. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me to him as he settled into his favorite spot.

He planted soft kisses along my slit, teasing and taunting me by licking and dipping the tip of his tongue in my entrance. My head was back on the bed, my eyes already beginning to roll back in my skull, but I could feel him staring up at me from between my legs, his eyes glossed over with lust and passion. The way Daryl looked at me, kissed me, touched me, was something akin to worship.

“You’re so beautiful. Love seein’ ya like this, gettin’ all worked up just for me.” His sultry Southern accent was dirty talk all on its own, and combined with words of praise made me tingle from head to toe. He left a few more long, teasing kisses before slipping his tongue between my folds of aching flesh.

He was slow at first, taunting me just the way I liked as he repeatedly flicked my clit. As he picked up speed, I reached for his head, tangling my fingers in his hair and rocking my pelvis in motion with his fluid tongue as he brought me closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. I became so lost in the throes of lust that I was struggling to gain control of myself, bucking and shaking and squeezing my thighs together. His moans and grunts sent vibrations across my core, the sounds that dripped off his lips evidence that he, too, was in ecstasy. This was just as much for him as it was for me. My fingers in his hair, being surrounded by my warmth, the intoxicating taste of me coating his tongue…this was his paradise.

“You’re shakin’, baby.” His hands gently pressed against my knees, coaxing them apart. “Gotta keep your legs open for me.”

Fuck, I’ve taught him well, I thought.

Shockwaves of pleasure radiated through every cell of my body. The only sounds echoing off the walls were my mix of luscious moans and delirious giggles. I used to be self-conscious about how loud I was the bedroom, but Daryl had assured me on numerous occasions of how hot he thought it was, how they were sounds often on repeat in his dreams.

“I’m close,” I said, words coming out broken though breathy moans, “so close, baby.”

Daryl took that as his cue to pick up speed, his magical tongue rapidly encircling my most sensitive area and devouring me like I was his last goddamn meal. Every centimeter of my skin was burning with pure ecstasy as the metaphorical cord in my center grew more taut with each pass of his tongue. I instinctively bucked into him, gently tugging on his hair and eliciting more deep grunts and groans from him, and my eyes rolled back into my head as the suction on my swollen clit pushed me over the edge.

“Ah…ah—fuck!” My cries were followed by my signature string of giggles, the telltale sign that I had climaxed. Daryl plunged his tongue in my entrance, yearning to feel my walls twitch around him as I rode out my high.

“That’s my good girl,” he hummed, leaving one last long, tender kiss between my legs.

As my body came down from the peak of pleasure, he crawled back onto me, leaving kisses along my jawline. I was all delirious smiles as the kisses trailed to the sensitive spot under my ear, all the while repeating how much he loved me. No man had ever cared about my pleasure in the way Daryl had. He always made sure to get me off first, and often, more than once.

“Ya still doin’ alright?” he asked, running a hand through my hair and lightly massaging my scalp with his fingers.

“Oh, I’m fantastic,” I replied, giggles still intertwined with my words. His signature little grin crossed his lips as he kissed me again, slipping his tongue in to allow me to taste myself on him.

“Ya wanna keep goin’?”

“Yeah.” I hoped my nod and tone of voice would mask the anxiety creeping up in my chest. Alas, it did not. This man was somehow attuned to my every thought, reading me like a damn book no matter how hard I tried to keep a poker face.

“What’s goin’ on?” The tone of voice softened, and I could tell he was starting to get worried. This was typically the point where I would start having a panic attack, and he was bracing himself to jump into action.

I bit the inside of my bottom lip and nodded again, dropping my gaze. “Mhm. Just a little nervous is all.”

“We can stop,” he reassured, “like I said, ain’t gonna upset me.”

“I wanna keep going. I’m alright, I promise. Just first-time butterflies is all. Those’ll be around until…y’know, it’s not the first time anymore.” I brushed strands of hair out of his eyes, tucking them behind his ear as I brought my gaze back to his. The safety that lied within those baby blue eyes soothed me instantly. “I’m sure you’ve got some of those too, right?”

His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. “Maybe, yeah.” He dropped his gaze for a moment before bringing it back to mine, biting his lip. “Was worried ya might…I dunno. Just didn’t want ya worryin’ ‘bout me. Wanted ya to focus on yourself.”

“Aww, baby,” I cooed, taking his face in my hands and tenderly caressing his cheekbones with my thumbs, “it’s alright to be nervous. We’re doing something new for the first time. It’s gonna be a little nerve-wracking for both of us.” I kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “Do you wanna keep going?”

He adjusted himself to straddle me, my wetness further soaking his jeans. He left a few more tender, open-mouthed kisses on the sweet spot on my neck before sitting up, tossing his head back and shaking out his chocolate locks.

“Sure do.”

I bit my bottom lip as I unbuckled his belt, sliding it off and tossing it down beside me, the buckle clattering on the floor. I rubbed him over his jeans, lingering and swirling my fingers over his swollen tip. I licked my lips in anticipation, my core tingling and aching to feel every inch of him. His breathing picked up, small grunts and groans trickling off his lips, one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. I paused to unbutton and unzip his jeans, his erection breaking free the moment it had even a hint of wiggle room.

I pulled him from his boxers and stroked him. The bulging veins on his member pulsated under my grip, and he was so rigid, you would’ve thought he was made of stone. A small bit of precum started to leak out, which I eagerly swiped up with my finger, maintaining eye contact with him as I licked it off my hand before continuing. He tossed his head back again, his mouth falling open as I drew circles with my thumb over his sensitive red tip. 

“Christ, woman.” He removed my hand from himself, kissing the back of it and placing it on his chest. His heart was pounding, his ribcage the only barrier keeping it from bursting from his body. “Keep touchin’ me like that, ain’t gon’ last much longer.”

Daryl climbed off of me and dropped the rest of his clothes to the floor. I watched as he retrieved a condom from the nightstand drawer, carefully tearing it open so as to not rip the rubber. I pulled myself up and adjusted, propping my head onto the pillows at the head of the bed. I watched with hungry eyes as he slid the condom down his length. I was craving him, aching, needing to feel him fill me in the most intimate way possible. Though there was still a small presence of nerves, the butterflies in my stomach were beginning to settle. I was ready.

“Ya comfortable?” he asked as he propped his arms up on either side of me and settled between my legs.

“Very,” I responded, “are you?”

“Mhm.” He dropped his head back into the crook of my neck, lips grazing the helix of my ear as his gravely voice whispered erotic promises to me. “Wanna look at ya while it’s happenin’. See how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” I dropped my gaze and snickered as the blood rushed to my cheeks. Only Daryl was capable of making me giggle and blush like a schoolgirl.

His cock twitched on its own accord, grazing my clit as it did and sending little shockwaves through my center. “Ya sure you’re good?”

“I’m great, I promise,” I assured. I ran my hands through his hair and down his neck around to his chest, his muscles flexing as I caressed him.

“Just got one last question.”

The blush on my cheeks returned again. “What’s that?” I wondered. Like I didn’t know exactly what he was about to ask me.

“Can I fuck you?”

“Christ, yes.”

He took his time entering me, sliding in slowly to soak in every second of the feeling. My mouth fell open, and I looked down between us for a moment to watch him slip inside me. His cock slowly sinking further into my entrance was a beautiful sight.

The face he made when he first slid in…I’d give anything to see that face again, to capture a still of it and it imprint it into my memory forever.

“Shit, ya feel good,” he moaned, his head falling into the crook of my neck. 

“Kinda…tilt your pelvis…” I instructed, placing my hands on his hips to help guide his adjustment, “to get—oh, there you go.” His pubic bone put the ideal amount of pressure on my clit as he thrusted. “Nice and easy.”

“How’s that feel?”

“So good,” I replied, words spilling out me between moans as we kissed, “you feel so good.”

I was aching for him to return every time he pulled out. His tongue was magic, but his cock was otherworldly. He was the perfect size, comfortably filling every square inch of me and bottoming out with each thrust. It was like he was crafted just for me, and I was crafted just for him.

My eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, baby.” The words trickled off my lips like an erotic prayer.

“You’re so sexy.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “I love ya so much.”

I echoed his adoration, the words coming out between huffs and puffs. “I love you too…so much…you can…go faster…if you want…”

I opened my eyes in time to see him smirk, and I gasped at the pleasure that rolled through me as he picked up speed. “That what ya want?”

“Mhm.” After a few quick thrusts, he slowed his pace again, this time pumping in and out even slower than when he started.

“Ya know I need to hear ya say it,” he reminded. When it came to consent, a nod or an “mhm” or moan in response wasn’t good enough for Daryl. He needed verbal confirmation every single time, and to me, it was one of the hottest things about him.

“Yes,” I practically begged, “I…” I averted his gaze and bit my lip, my cheeks growing hot as I blushed the hardest I had so far. “I want it faster.”

The sinful sounds of skin-on-skin and salacious moans entangled as he repeatedly thrusted deep into my core. My breasts bobbed as we rocked back and forth, the squeaking of the bed becoming the harmony complimenting the melody of our bodies. Despite my eyes being closed, I could feel his on me, watching as my face warped and contorted with each wave of euphoria he sent between my legs. His moans were almost animalistic in nature, and his body was rigid, his face turning red as his breathing became more rapid. He was desperate for release, and it was evident that he had needed me just as much as I needed him. The enticing sounds slipping off his tongue were sounds I often played on repeat in my head when he was gone, my dreams recollections of our past intimate endeavors. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels digging into the small of his back, allowing for him to hit my G-spot at the perfect angle.

“Ugh, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Wanna feel it,” Daryl growled, hardly able to form a complete sentence as his tongue followed the curve of my helix, “wanna feel ya twitchin’ ‘round my cock.” I could tell he was close too, using every fiber of his being to hold himself back until I could get off first.

“Mmm…fuck…oh God.” Small initial shockwaves of pleasure began to roll through me, subtle and almost muted at first, letting me know what was waiting for me once I peaked.

“That’s it.” His voice was a sexy dichotomy of gravely and silky smooth as he nibbled at the sensitive spot below my ear. “Ya gonna be a good girl ’n scream my name?”

That alone almost sent me over the edge.

All I could do was nod in response, my eyes squeezed shut and moaning sweet nothings directly into his ear. My legs were beginning to shake, and I knew it was only going to be a few more strokes before ecstasy took over. I was moments from coming undone.

“Mmm…oh…oh, Daryl!”

I clung to him for dear life as I came, my body trembling and writhing underneath him. My fingers dug into his back muscles, my face pressed into the crook of his neck, practically gasping for air as orgasmic bliss nearly took my breath away. I bucked into him instinctively, demanding to feel continued pressure on my clit as I rode out the most intensive waves of pleasure yet. My walls clenching around him, along with my signature string of lewd giggles, were the catalyst to his release.

“Aah! Shit!” Strained moans and gasps came out through gritted teeth as his forehead fell to mine. I gasped at the feeling of him pulsating inside me as he emptied into the condom. He continued to frantically thrust, prolonging both my pleasure and his, before relaxing in my arms, the happy hormones coursing through him bringing a smile to his face. He trailed kisses along my jawline, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Every muscle in my body felt like jelly. My limp legs slid off onto the bed, and my head fell to the pillow, eyes rolling back. I stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths and listening to my heart pounding in my chest. My ears felt full, like when the air pressure changes on a plane. Every cell in my body was singing his praises, and I was seeing stars.

He pulled out once he went limp inside me, rolling over to remove the condom, tying it off and letting it drop to the floor. He grabbed the covers and pulled them up over us, coming back and pulling me close to him. He’d rolled onto his side, propping himself on one arm and leaning over in my line of sight, running his other hand through my hair.

“Hi beautiful,” he practically cooed, kissing my cheek. A silly, delirious smile broke out on my lips.

“I think I just saw God,” I laughed, eliciting an amused chuckle from Daryl. As I panted, my gaze met his, and he kissed me again, tenderly, just like he always did. Even in the naughtiest contexts, this man never made me feel anything short of loved and adored.

“Ya know, I’ve tried my damndest to recreate that sexy little giggle in my head when I’s on the road, but ain’t nothin’ like hearin’ it from the source.” My cheeks began to turn rosy red at the thought of Daryl thinking about me to relieve himself when he was away for too long. “How ya feelin’?”

With those three little words, a myriad of post-coitus emotions coursed through me. Pride, joy, appreciation, and love, just to name a few, hit me like a train and sent me careening into a fit of tears. I was immediately overwhelmed, the feeling building in my chest overflowing as tears streamed down my face and soaked the sheets below me. Even though they were happy feelings, there were a lot of them, more than my body was able to handle in my current state.

“Hey, you’re ok.” He leaned over me, wiping tears off my cheeks and wrapping his other arm underneath me. “What’s wrong?”

The tone of his voice had dropped, and he looked sad, like he felt awful, like he thought he’d done something wrong. The worry radiating off of him was palpable, and I could tell that he thought I was spiraling into a panic attack. I gave him a big, stupid grin, kissing all over his face to reassure him that these were, in fact, happy tears.

“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” I promised, holding his face in my hands and stroking his cheeks with my thumbs, kissing the tip of his nose, “I’m just…overwhelmed, but with good feelings.” I blinked back more tears and took another deep breath. “I did it. I’m so proud of myself. And it was…you were…incredible. First time having sex that was so good, I cried after.”

“That good, huh?” he smirked. He adjusted his position over me, puffing his chest out a bit as he did. Clearly, I’d boosted his ego.

“Mhm. Really good,” I reiterated, biting the inside of my bottom lip as a faint blush of pink returned to my cheeks once again. “How are you feeling? How was your first…time getting your dick wet?”

“Amazin’. I mean, you were amazin’,” he replied, “happy ya said somethin’ when I got home. Ya’s lookin’ so good, I almost lost it.” His fingers trailed down my side, circling over the tattoo on the front of my right hip. “Gotta start dressin’ like that more often.”

I looked up at him, my baby blues locking with his as I gave him a soft smile. Every ounce of love I had for the beautiful man in front of me fought to break free from my chest as my heart swelled in my ribcage. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me. “Takin’ care of…’t’s cute.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon

Divider found on Google via searching for stock images

[lillyfics]

Soaring through the Skies || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations in the journey of your love with Aemond.

Previous Chapter

TW: swearing, sexual violence, angst, heartbreak, violence, child death, infidelity, death, references to smut

Chapter 5 (WC: 2,944)

Numb. That’s how you feel. You have endured so much pain that now they have all blended into a singular numbness. Your father is dead, and you don’t know how to feel about it. Do you mourn him? Or do you mourn of what’s going to happen now? As much as you want to keep your hopes you now know how the war is going to end, crushing your dreams of escape. But escaping also always came with a dash of uncertainty, didn’t it? At least you have an idea of what it is like on this side. On the other side, your welcome could go either way, especially after the babe. Your father would believe you to be a traitor, or worse he could try to get rid of Aelora.

Guilt floods your mind for demonizing your father, as he had always had your best interests at heart, despite his questionable feelings for your mother. Opposing guilt, doubt makes you question every interaction with your father making you think if you even knew him properly. Once, you thought you were cunning just like your father, but now you know his cruelty knew no bounds, unlike you. You never would have actively wished harm upon a child and thought your father would too, but you were proven wrong.

You mentally scoff, what use is to dissect the thoughts and moves of your father, as he has long departed the world as of now, thanks to your husband. Husband. The very thought sends bitter aftershocks through you. You understand his reasons so for killing your father, and shamefully, you don’t feel as betrayed by this act of his as you anticipated. However, the pain of his other betrayals still thrives in you.

A sudden smack on your chin inflicted by a tiny hand breaks you out of your trance. You look down at the toothless smile of your Aelora. Her eyes glimmer, unknown of the horrors happening around her. And you won’t let her know of it either, doing your best to protect her from the harsh reality. In reality, you are drowning, and no one is here to help you. Not your father. Not Aemond. You are left to drown, as you did betray all of them by not taking any action. Except now, you have to stay afloat. Not for you, but for Aelora.

You quickly swipe the tears away from your face before you play with her so that she could only see the happy version of you, which you have been failing at more and more recently.

You lift her to your eye level and gently nudge her nose with yours.

“Aren’t you my prettiest love? You are, aren’t you?”

You don’t know if she could understand your words, yet her grin grows wider, nonetheless. Unable to control yourself, you lay loud kisses all over her face, making giggles erupt out of her. Her giggles are the loveliest music you will ever hear, and you don’t think you ever want to stop listening to it. But it does come to an end, after you could sense someone entering the chambers. You don’t make yourself welcome the person, as it usually Alicent or the children wanting to spend time with Aelora. However, fate seems to mock you today as you catch sight of the silver hair.

Your eyes are stuck in stalemate with his for a long time, until he eventually sets his sight down lower. On your daughter. Our daughter, you guess.

He tries to move forward, eyes not leaving her,“Love-“

“Don’t”

You move further back, as his every move closer repulses you like oil to water. He looks devastated, almost ashamed at the fact that he is made someone who loved him to feel disgusted by him. The sorry sight of his eyes makes you falter a bit. You loved him. You never wanted him to feel hurt. To know that you have caused him to feel this pain hurts you more than you anticipated. You have missed him. You missed his kisses and his touches. You want to go back, you want to feel those touches again, and it would be so easy to do so as he is within arm’s reach. One single step, and he will know what to do. He always has. But then you remember. His hands were not only yours like you thought they were. They were the witch’s too, weren’t they? And he must have used not only her hands to touch her, you digress, due to her condition. And now your thoughts wander, as you imagine him and her naked, touching each other, caressing each other, and much and much more. Much more that you only thought you were privy too. A stray tear escapes your eye as you close your eyes and clutch your babe.

“Why?”

Aemond just stares at you, unsuccessful at hiding his guilt, unable to answer.

You don’t know what kind of answer you are expecting either. In fact, you don’t even know what you are asking him. Why? Why did he lie to you about the betrothal? Why did he betray you so with another woman? Why did he kill your father? Why did he tell you that he loves you so in the first place if he was never able to fully give you his heart?

“I am sorry.”

You open your eyes. Surprising. You didn’t think he would outright condemn his actions, but this is a start. You think. A start to where, however? You aren’t sure.  Your eyes drift to a glint of steel. Dark sister. He catches the drift of your eyes. “I am not apologizing for the killing of your father, and I never will. I know it hurts you, but I did it for Jaehaerys, and any regret I would feel towards this action feels like dishonoring the memory of my nephew. So, I won’t” he said softly but stern at the same time.

“Then what are you apologizing for?” you ask him, tired and aware. He knows that you know. You can see that in his eyes. Then why can’t he open his mouth and just say it. How hard must it be for him to form those words and acknowledge the truth? He had no problem lying to you after all.  Does he think that saying it out loud would make it real? Well, he needs to know that it already is real, and that it already has happened, and this conversation just for both of you to take a step to wherever it leads.

“Alys, she-she- “

“Stop stammering and just get to it” you sob, clutching Aelora to your chest.

“It’s just I need her-“

Every word that comes out of his mouth is like a nail to your chest. You have known of this, and you thought these months alone with Aelora would prevent the pain from occurring, but it seem like the wound is reopening instead.

“You needed her?” you screech.

“Alys, she can look into the future, my love, that’s why I have been winning these battles, you must listen to me-“

“Must listen to you! I have listened to enough of your lies, and look how I am. I trusted you, and look where it led me.”

Aelora screamed, sensing your distress, and you immediately loosen your grip to slightly bounce her around. “Shhhh…..my darling, mama’s here…”

Aemond looks at the scene with wonder in his eyes. This sight is like a dream come true to him. You, being a wonderful mother to his child.

You feel his gaze, and felt the immediate need to hide from his eyes.

“Can I hold him?” Aemond asked, hopeful for your compassion.

“No, you cannot hold HER. Were you so besotted by her cunt that you weren’t even remotely aware of what was happening here?”

Aemond was shocked. He expected your wrath and disappointment, but vulgarity? From someone as sweet as you? Safe to say Aemond was bamboozled.

“She is mine too!” Aemond commanded. “Yours? I was the one who carried her, all alone, as a prisoner, while you were cavorting with your whore!”

“ALYS IS NO WHORE-“

“Well she has me fooled” with a hint of sarcasm to your tone.

“AND she’s here, so she needs to be treated with a modicum of respect.” He stills, gauging your response.

“She’s here? In King’s Landing?”

“Yes,” he continues, before you start your questioning, “-she’s here because the war still isn’t over, I still need her-“

“Need her?” you scoff, with thinly veiled rage over your face.

“And she’s pregnant too, I can’t leave her alone, not after this.” Aemond tells you, with displeasure.

At this point, all the fight has left you. You take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, trying to keep yourself steady for Aelora. Taking advantage of the silence, Aemond moves forward to try to hold Aelora.

“Don’t.”

Aemond stares at you in disbelief. He didn’t expect you to be iron clad.

He pleads,“I just want to hold my child, love, please...”

“You will have a child of your own to hold soon,” you say, voice on the verge of tears, holding Aelora to your chest.

A single stray tear escapes his eye as he stares at the babe in your arms. It hurts, it hurts you to see him like this, you would do anything to see him smile. Does he not understand, that it hurts for you to do this? That it hurts for you to not let him hold Aelora? A year ago, a picture of him holding your daughter would have cured all your ailments. Now, you can’t let that happen. No, not when it is worth your dignity, not when that is all you have you left that is your own. Even Aelora won’t be just yours, you understand, that she will grow up to be a person of her own. But not your dignity. Your dignity is yours, and it might just be the most powerful weapon you will ever yield.

“Can you please leave now, if that is all you have to say?” you ponder weakly.

Aemond is smart warrior, he knows when a battle is lost. Before leaving, he hesitantly questions you. “May I please know her name?”

“Aelora”

Weeks pass by, and Aemond is still trying his best to get in your good graces. But how could he? Not when you know that he is been sharing his bed with her, now that you have barred him from yours. You have barred him from your chambers, and locked yourself up in your chambers, making you a prisoner of your own choice, hence he still hasn’t caught a proper glimpse at your shared daughter.

One night, you finally decide to leave Aelora to your trustable maid, even though it hurts you to do so, to go have dinner with the entire family. According to Alicent, the children miss you and these dinners would help bring a sense of normalcy back. Normalcy? Alicent Hightower is truly delusional, you think. Things cannot go back to how they were. No, you can’t and won’t allow it. Without pretending that a sense of dread looms over you, not that you have to pretend, it seems like betraying the dead ones. Dead ones that you love. Yet, you still dress yourself to as best as you could and head to the dinner, at least for the children. They at least deserve to believe that the world is a better place, at least for a little while longer, even when they already know it isn’t.

You take a seat between Maelor and Alicent, who were already in an enamored conversation. Well, calling it a conversation is unjust, as it is just Alicent agreeing with Maelor’s half statements. Jaehaera, who is seated between her father and Maelor, leans beyond her little brother so she could ask you all about your little babe. Now everyone in the table has your attention, as they are all curious about your Aelora. They know you are a good mother, and that you would take no actions to harm her, yet they still feel like they are restrained from getting to properly know their niece, grand-daughter, great grand-daughter due to your over protectiveness, not that they could particularly blame you. Taking advantage of the opportunity, they slowly get to know more of Aelora through the little tidbits you offer through questioning. While Otto Hightower doesn’t directly question you, you notice that he has ears open towards you. You should have known, he was always to known to favor his daughter, granddaughter, and great granddaughter and would only be looking to do the same with your own daughter. You want to let it happen. You want her to be loved by all, get the most amount of love from everyone around her until she couldn’t anymore. But you of all people should know better than that. Love leads to trust, and only with trust could you ever receive the knife of betrayal. Thus, you restrain access to your Aelora, only allowing them to know her but not the opposite.

And while you were continuing with your conversations, you hear before you the see scrape of the chair across you. Aemond, uncharacteristically late. You didn’t think he would show up, either believing that they didn’t invite him to give you some courtesy or he himself decided not to show up. Yet here is, across you. And there comes the end to all of your conversations about Aelora. You don’t want to, knowing that talking about her is the only peaceful conversation you could have these days, but you don’t want him to know anything about her, as you don’t have any way else to hurt him. While everyone else quickly understood that the conversation has come to an end, Jaehaera, a lovely child she is, still questions you on when Aelora will be able to play with dolls with her. With a warm smile, you assure Jaehaera that Aelora still has to get a bit older to play dolls with her. Maelor, not wanting to be left out, immediately questions whether Aelora would play with him too. And you quench his doubts too, with no other choice. Because, if not conversing with them means you have to take notice of Aemond, the last thing you ever want to do. Aemond however, is desperate to at least meet your eyes with a glance, a privilege you haven’t granted him yet.

 However, your time of comfort comes to an end when you notice a dark haired woman takes a seat next to him. Chillness descends upon the dining hall, with mortification in everyone’s eyes, including Aemond’s. Otto’s sternly utters, “Aemond.” While it may seem like a simple statement of his name, everyone in the room knows it is a silent command. A silent command to get the witch out of the room, whether it be for your dignity or due to his piousness to the Seven or just his preference not to dine with a low-born. But a command is a command, one that Aemond would be to follow with no exceptions. Nonetheless, Aemond doesn’t even allow himself the slight twitch of a muscle, shaming not just you but everyone else in the room further. Aemond also found his wish to be granted, but not with a glance he was expecting but with a look of betrayal from you. Not just from you, as everyone else in the dining hall were either giving him looks of disgust, disappointment, or shame. You move to exit the dining hall, as your eyes are now filled with tears threatening to spill. You could hear Aemond gently calling you, but you make no heeds to his pleas, now that you know where you stand in his life.

After your abrupt departure, Alicent takes hold of the children and moves to her chambers to continue with the dinner, but not before uttering a gut-wrenching words to Aemond, “You have disappointed me.” Aegon and Otto quickly finish their dinner, not a single noise escaping their mouths so they could be done with the façade of a dinner, leaving Aemond and Alys to dine alone.

More weeks pass by, and you opt your decision to continue you days with just Aelora, as Aemond is no longer part of your life. It hurts, but you know time will heal it, as it heals all wounds. At least you hope so it would. You want to take your words to Aegon, to convince him to finally leave with your daughter to the Runestone, promising him of no retaliation or rebellion, just living out your days in peace. You feel like a coward, but you know that you have no other choice, revenge will only continue the cycle of violence, and you don’t want any harm to befall on Aelora due to your mistakes. You know the realm will scorn you, including your own siblings. Will you be punished for not mourning, hence failing your duty as a daughter or will you be punished for mourning him, a man history will not look kindly upon? You can’t win either way. However, your plans are thrown into a blender as you realize the war still isn’t over yet, that the Blacks are still retaliating. You learn of this when your doors are suddenly barred shut, unable to hear anything except whispers of chaos outside. Not wanting to take your chances, you take Aelora in your hands and take refugee near the secret passageway in your room, to flea at a moment’s notice.

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

Swedish Fish Picnic- gojo satoru x f!reader

tags: ghost!satoru x art therapist!reader, reader works for the gojo clan as satoru's nephew's tutor, mentions of picnics, mentions of death(s) (funeral), mentions of general spirituality (nothing specifically religious just the whole of idea of the logic behind interacting with a ghost?), reader talks with herself a lot but with gojo listening, surpise at the end a/n: why is it when I have finals I have the biggest desire to write?

exhausted from today's activities, you lay your back against the blanket that covered the field of grass both you and hotaru, the gojo clan's youngest member, enjoyed while you held your picnic. it's spring, the days slightly longer than most, the sun shines, and you finally get the excuse to wear the floral dress you've been saving for this occasion.

becoming hotaru's part time nanny and art therapist was no easy task. come along with the trials and tribulations you have faced these past months, you have proved yourself not only as a strong figure needed in the boy's life, but as a comfort to him after his mother's passing.

and satoru was witness to it all.

the two of you mutually recognized one another's presence. the first time you felt something and confirmed the presence of someone was the night you stayed in the estate. it was forecasted that a rainstorm would occur that night, and what kind of hosts would the gojo's be if they let you leave? after you've been so kind to their youngest member?

the second time, and surely the strongest was shortly after hotaru's mother's funeral. you'd learn that she and satoru were second cousins, and in the snow, from a distance, you could sense satoru standing behind a pair of trees. you'd known since hotaru would always speak to him. so his energy had become... more or less familiar.

"everyone has gone, you know." you speak, loud enough for him to hear several feet away. all guests had gone inside the estate for warmth, and not one soul but you and satoru's remained out. you'd look like a dream, satoru recalled, the way your hair fell off your shoulders, the way your cheeks and nose burned from cold, and the contrasting black coat you wore made him fully look at you.

"are you even cold?" you ask, more so for yourself. you tilt your head sideways in curiosity as satoru holds his breath, as if he could do anything.

"all of the guests have gone inside, so you can pay your respects to his (hotaru's) mother," you pause, a hesitant long moment.

"also..." you sigh, "please don't give hotaru false hopes about his mom. I don't know how the spirit realm works or if it's even metaphysically possible, but please don't hurt the boy." you beg, "he's already been through enough. Just... please... let's work through this. I want him to be okay too." for the whole sequence of your speech, you found yourself begging, pouring out a piece of your heart for the man you just had to believe existed.

you left shortly after.

in the coming weeks, you would work hotaru, balancing his grief and naturally letting things unfold with time. "uncle sato said my mommy was always here," he says one day out of the blue, and you nod. mentally thanking the heavens. "he's right," you gently grab his wrist and the boy looks up at you, "your mother loved you very much. I'm sure she was very happy to be your mommy,"

you didn't know it then nor now, but for the last few months, both you and satoru had been parenting the child better than any member in the clan. when you weren't there working, he'd seek out satoru, and when you were here, hotaru would take any moment to spend it by your side and tell you everything he's done and learned in your absence. it warmed your heart, knowing and feeling you meant something to him and you him.

months after hotatu's mom's passing, you would notice satoru's presence less and less. if you were lucky, then perhaps you could encounter it once a week. it nearly wounded you because do spirits have something better to do? did he leave? you guessed not given hotaru would talk about him every few days so was satoru avoiding you?

it felt like a game of chase and catch, tag, a game of which someone was running and someone was the pursuer, and as much as you didn't want to read into things too much, you were gowing interested to know who this man really was.

so within a month before the picnic, you found that satoru's 'passing' was regarded as an invisble event. nobody really acknowledged it but it seemed as nobody wanted him to pass. "he was the strongest sorcerer in the clan," spoke a maid, her voice meek and timid.

"he was very handsome," spoke another, the chuckle in her evokes a small blush across her face. "tall... and beautiful blue eyes."

you guessed hotaru shared some semblance to satoru, judging by the small photgraph of a man you could only guess was a younger satoru along with hotaru's mother. he was tall as the rest of the maids indicated, with his arm loosely around karumi, hotaru's mother, and he smiles so wide his eyes squint. both look to be around the same age as they look no older than 14. you find the picture by accident after conversing with seima, the woman of the keys who was cleaning the frame before being called for an emerency in the main hall.

she leaves the frame in her own private quarters, along with a bag of swedish fish candy, and a pomegranate which you knew was one of lady karumi's favorite fruits. so the candy had to be satoru's favorite, right?

you only guessed so as you lay against the blanket. the bag of swedish fish you bought where still inside the picnic basket.

and the third time was now. hotaru was now home, and you returned to the picnic spot where you both dined on sandwiches, fruits, and painted. it was still early in the day, and the gojo's always let you stay a little longer. besides, the privacy of the grassy hill with no one in sight gave you peace. maybe too much peace.

"I wonder if you're here now," you speak mindlessly, you rest your arm at the back of your neck as you raise your hand, playing and moving your fingers in the air as the wind blows on the tree you're under. you liked to imagine you were moving the leaves, as if your hands could just magically touch the leaves from this down below. "you certainly did the walk if you followed us all the way over here." you chuckled to yourself, imagining the idea of a ghost following you and hotaru on some adventure he probably didn't know of.

your legs are perched and bent naturally as you glance to your right, wondering if you're sensing things correctly by imagining there's a figure at the end of the blanket. standing on his knees.

"I'd offer you food, but I don't know if you can eat." you speak, you should be weirded out by this, speaking to yourself, but you couldn't find it in you to stop. it felt oddly comforting, maybe right. and you wondered if you were on the brink of insanity.

no going back now.

"there's a pack of swedish fish in the bag," you tell him, "I don't know if you know, or if I'm breaking some sort of spiritual code, but lady seima had a picture of both you and karumi when you were younger. karumi liked pomegranates, so she had that, and I could only assume you liked the swedish fish since it was the only thing there," you turn to your right a second time and see a blur. you blink twice and sit up on your elbows. "...is it rude of me to bring food? ...can you eat it?"

suddenly, the wind blows abruptly strong as your attention is shifted to a branch nearby that falls off a tree with force. it flies to your far left and you yelp, startled. "what..." and when you thought things could not have been timed in the way they were, as breathless as you were startled, you swore you could pale as a ghost and see a man you envisioned standing right in front of you with a picnic basket on his lap.

[fe-fictions]

Speaking of Dimleth softness…can you write some expert Dima husbandry? Byleth is very pregnant and tired and he feels utterly helpless. Until he jumps into action to help her wash her hair. Because he totally would.

(Foaming at the mouth for soft dima ;;;)

Eight months had come and gone in all but an instant. For yourself and Dimitri, it seemed to be a blur and moving too slowly all at the same time. The king and queen were thrilled to welcome the heir-to-be, and could hardly wait to meet them.

But until that fateful day could arrive, they had to wait through the trials and tribulations of pregnancy. Dimitri, being the not-pregnant-one, felt increasingly more helpless every time you quietly complained about your struggles. There was only so much that he could do to help you, after all.

He would do what he could to help you, but that typically meant calling for a physician or the nursemaids to assist you while he stood by.

The king could do small things, like help you off the bed or carry you up and down the stairs, it was practically nothing compared to everything else that you needed, and he couldn’t help with. It made him feel utterly useless; the worst possible thing he could feel towards someone he owed his life to (and loved deeply).

Thankfully when you woke up that morning, he was given an idea.

The king stirred when he felt you shift in his arms. Your back was to his chest, and his arms were carefully wrapped aroun you as a shield from the bitter winter cold.

You moved to get up, reaching for his hand and giving it a little kiss to wake him. “It’s time to get up, Dima.”

“Mmh.” He yawned, burying his face in your hair. “You’re sure you don’t need a little more time to rest, Beloved? We did not get to bed until late.”

“Seteth is arriving this morning to discuss urgent needs at the monastery. It would be terribly disrespectful to be late when he’s come so far…not to mention in this weather.”

“You raise a good point.” He sighed, and released you, stretching quickly before he got out of bed and rounded to your side so that he could help you up. “Do you need any help getting ready?”

“I will wear something simple. I do not think I need to be in full Archbishop regalia given my condition.” You replied, taking his hands and letting him pull you from the bedding. “Though I may need to bathe before I go. I’m feeling a little grimey, this morning.”

“Mercedes recommended we change your bathing schedule, didn’t she? Has it been two days, or three?”

“As of this morning, three days since the last bath.”

“You do not appear ‘grimey’, if it is any consolation.”

“It’s a feeling,” You replied, touching your hair, “At the very least, I need to take care of my hair; it will be in much worse shape by this evening.”

Dimitri frowned, thinking. “How long until the meeting?”

You looked outside, “Probably another hour and a half, maybe two if we’re lucky.”

Realization dawned on Dimitri; he had an excellent idea. “Let me help you take a bath!”

“What?” You looked back at him, finding a rather excited expression on his face. “You want to help me bathe?”

“I thought it’s a good idea, don’t you? This way I can help you get ready faster!”

You looked at him, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm so early in the morning. He seemed to be very charged up to do this for you, even if it seemed simple and a little unnecessary.

But Dimitri looked so very happy with himself at the mere thought. Who were you to say no?

“All right.” You nodded, letting him lead you into the washroom and start the bath. Water and fire magic made quick work of the bath, making it plenty warm (but far from hot for the baby). He helped you out of your clothes and into the full basin. You sighed happily, the warm water soothing you all the way through to your very soul.

“Dima…do you know how to wash my hair?” You asked him when the thought suddenly came to you. He nodded, bringing over the various bottles and soaps that would be used, today.

“Of course. And I will be gentle.” He added, before taking a pitcher from the basin and filling it with water. It was quite methodical, borderline calculated, in the way that he poured the water over your hair. He made sure not to let it spill over your face, and repeated the movement a few more times.

You got to work on washing yourself while Dimitri uncorked the bottle in his hands to prepare the hair washing. He hesitated for little more than a moment; he was quite excited to do this for you.

Finally, long, calloused fingers worked into your scalp, almost timidly. You did not react at first, not wanting to scare him or worry him by thinking he harmed you. So you continued your scrubbing while he started massaging the shampoo into your hair.

He seemed a little unsure at first, but once he found a rhythm, it started to feel incredible. To the point that your own scrubbing slowed to a stop. You leaned into his touch, all but sinking into the water while he worked. Dimitri bit his lip to keep from smiling to broadly.

“That feels so good.” You commented quietly, “Where did you learn to wash hair like this?”

“I learned from watching you,” He responded in kind, working the lather through your hair, from root to tip. “You’re always so deliberate when you do it, so I thought I’d give it a try for you.”

“You’re doing an amazing job. I could fall asleep if you keep it up, like this.” You added, “Want to do the rest of the work as well?”

“Would that help you?” He asked borderline eagerly, tilting his head over the basin to look at you. You cracked an eye open at him and touched the tip of his nose.

“It certainly would…it’s nice to be pampered every now and then. You sure you can behave?”

“Nonsense,” He brushed off your teasing, returning his hands to your scalp and resuming the massage. “If you desire your husband to help you wash, then I will do it without complaint or mischief.”

“What if I request mischief?”

“If it is what you desire,” He echoed, smiling at his cheeky wife. He leaned down, touching a kiss to your forehead, and continued his work on your hair.

Eventually, Dimitri would (carefully) join you in the bath, and helped you get washed up (with extra care and attention paid to the sweet baby bump where fists and feet would tap his palms.

It wasn’t much in Dimitri’s mind, but to you it meant the world he wanted to do something so sweet for you. He was doing his best (and was executing it beautifully).

[ravenclawella]

The Marks That Make Us

(Sebastian x f!OC x Ominis)

Summary: Evelyn, the hero of Hogwarts, is facing a new challenge on a much more personal level. And an enemy much closer to home. New tribulations, trials and torture now force her to choose between the two she loves the most or a prospective husband that will do anything to have her.

Available on AO3 Tumblr Chapter masterlist:

Warnings for this chapter

None.

Chapter 2: Beasts & Besties

“Tell me again, why we agreed to disperse this poacher camp in the middle of the night?” Ominis moaned, following closely behind his two friends. “You said I wasn’t to go alone. Remember?” Evelyn squinted at the tree line, finding the firelight of the camp. “I was perfectly fine to do this by myself.” “Which was completely out of the question, by the way.” Sebastian nudged her playfully.  “But someone didn’t think the two of us could handle it” he added in a hushed whisper. “Of course not. I don’t want to find you both in the infirmary. You’re not exactly the poster boy for responsibility, Sebastian.” Ominis grumbled. “Both of you, shush. We’re nearly there. We need the element of surprise.” Evelyn scolded, quietly casting her disillusionment charm. The boys cast their charms and followed her to the the camp. They each took a separate posting around the camp, surrounding the area to cause their planned havoc. 

A large bonfire lit the majority of the camp, the light from the flames licked the sides of the tents and cages. One poacher sat on a short vertical log near the fire, extending his hands towards the flames in an effort to keep warm. “Confringo” Evelyn whispered, pointing her wand at the stump of wood he sat on. It immediately caught fire and exploded beneath him, causing the man to startle and bolt upright in fear.  “Who’s there?” He looked around, his arm shook from being caught off-guard. Evelyn snuck behind another tree, careful to ensure she didn’t get caught.  “Flippendo” Ominis whispered from his position near one of the tents. The lone poacher fell face forward into the dirt, caught unaware from behind. He jumped back to his feet in an instant and spun around.  “Whatever this is, this isn’t funny Bernard.” He said, his voice wavering as he spun from left to right searching for the culprit, with his wand arm extended.

Meanwhile, Sebastian scouted the camp for other poachers, but to his disdain, found none. He continued to look around, hoping to find at least one poacher to duel. That’s when he found them. The cages holding the beasts Evelyn had spoken of. He knelt beside one and saw a small black niffler sat sadly, playing with it’s feet. When Sebastian moved the cage to find the lock, the niffler looked up at the disillusioned figure and made a happy squeak. “Just a few more seconds little one, we’ll have you right out” Sebastian said to the small creature. Just as he clasped his hand around the lock something small poked sharply into his back. “Stand up slowly, lad. No sudden movements.” The rough voice commanded. Sebastian rose slowly, thinking over his next actions and cursing himself for letting down his guard so easily.

“Petrificus totalis” Evelyn spoke aloud, now standing over the body she and Ominis had worked against. She bent down in front of him and picked up his wand, snapping it in two. She wiggled the two pieces in front of his eyes.  “When you are free, you will run. Don’t make me regret leaving you alive” she purred, throwing the wand into the fire.  “Ominis, keep searching for the cages. I’ll look out for more poachers.” She commanded. Ominis nodded and took a step around the tent only to be attacked. “Expelliarmus” the husky voice spoke, throwing Ominis’ wand out of reach. Evelyn whipped her head to her right to see Ominis now being held by a tall man, who grinned at her. Before she could speak, a shuffle to her right brought her attention to two more figures. A rather wide man held Sebastian’s wand and had his own pressed to his throat. Sebastian struggled against the man but was quickly kicked in the back of his legs to kneel in the dirt.  “Now, lass. Put down your wand and maybe, we’ll let your friends go.” The rough voice demanded. Evelyn looked to Sebastian who tried his best to shake his head. “Leave us. Run.” Ominis called out. Evelyn stood her ground. She knew she could have done this alone, she wouldn’t have cared if she had found herself in this situation. 

Seeing Sebastian and Ominis in danger triggered something primal in her. Power crackled from her feet to her fingers. She lifted her hands above her head and brought them both down as if a magnet had pulled them to the ground. Her eyes gleamed bright red against the firelight, and sparks erupted from her fingertips. The sparks crawled along the floor, searching for the poachers that held her friends captive. They left a large space around Sebastian and Ominis untouched. Once the sparks found their target, a warning bell chimed in her head and she was briefly reminded of Ominis’ reluctance to cause harm. She exhaled and clapped her hands together, the sparks suddenly engulfed their targets into a puff of smoke, each leaving a black chicken in their place. 

Sebastian watched as her eyes faded from their magic infused red, back to their usual green. “Ominis, you should know that I would never run.” She chuckled, she bent down to pick up his wand from the floor. She gently placed it back into his hand and let him observe his surroundings. “So, that was…” Sebastian started, getting up from his knees. “Ah, yeah. Sorry. I really didn’t think we’d get caught” She shrugged. “Amazing, Evie. That was amazing!” Sebastian gushed. “SEBASTIAN. I cannot believe you right now” Ominis shook his head. “Oh Ominis, if you had seen how she just transformed them, you would be in love too” “In love huh?” Evelyn snickered, watching Sebastian trip over his words. “Before Sebastian proposes, I think we should find those beasts” Ominis chuckled at his friend’s expense, knowing that he would be sporting a full body blush from embarrassment.  “Oh, I found the cages already. They’re over here.” Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck and led them to the row of cages he found. Evelyn took out her napsack and looked to them both.  “Okay, remember to put them in the napsack so we can put them in the vivariums.” Evelyn reminded them, plopping the bag down in front of Sebastian.  “I’m going to check the camp just to make sure we don’t get surprised again.” Evelyn announced “Alone?” Ominis frowned. “I think I can handle it. I’ll yell if I need backup” She patted his shoulder and left to check the tents.  “In love, huh?” Ominis grinned at Sebastian. “Shut up Ominis. Go unlock that cage over there”. Sebastian turned to the niffler cage he had tried to unlock earlier.

“Guess who’s back” He smiled, hearing the niffler honk in excitement. It’s little hands motioned upwards, trying to grab at him. Once he unlocked the door the niffler hurridly made it’s way up Sebastian’s arms and climbed into his hair. Before Sebastian could smile the niffler started to squeak and pull at his hair, trying to stuff it into it’s pouch. “Owh. Hey. Stop that!” Sebastian attempted to remove the niffler from his head, but it only gripped his hair tighter. Evelyn came back into sight just as she saw Sebastian trying his best to pull the niffler from his messy auburn locks. “Oh, that’s adorable.” “It’s not. It’s a little demon, get it off me!” He whined. “You should take it as a compliment. This little guy just thinks your hair looks like treasure. With the light from the fire, I can understand why it would think you had golden locks” She smiled, lifting up her arms to untangle the niffler from his hair. He leaned down a little to allow her an easier time of untangling the beast, he couldn’t help but admire her features as she tried her best to avoid pulling his hair.  “Okay, into the sack with you” She carefully placed the niffler into her napsack and looked back to Sebastian. “Did you see where Ominis went?” “Yeah he’s just behind that tower of empty crates” He pointed. The pair were shocked to find Ominis on the ground, surrounded by at least eight puffskeins, giggling quietly. “Ominis Gaunt. Are you, having fun?” Sebastian asked with a fake gasp, shocking Ominis to sit up quickly and clear his throat.  “I. They overwhelmed me. I tried to carry them all back but they tickled. They…” “It’s okay, Ominis. I think it’s cute that you like puffskeins.” Before Evelyn could notice the blush forming on his cheeks she began to pick up the puffskeins and pop them inside her napsack, one by one until she saw the last one was still in Ominis’ arms. “Did you want to put this one in?” She asked, gently rubbing his wrist, ignoring the discomfort in her arm that seemed to appear whenever she made contact with her friends. “I-yes. Please.” He gently placed the puffskein into the bag. Once Evelyn closed the bag she noticed one more cage that needed to be unlocked. At first she had thought the cage was empty, but dark movement caught her eye. When Evelyn got closer she gasped. “Sebastian, help me with this lock” She couldn’t focus properly, seeing the baby thestral whine for it’s mother. It couldn’t have been more than a few days old. Once the gate was open she reached in gingerly and picked up the tiny thestral. It whinnied quietly and nuzzled at her hair. Ominis held the napsack beside him, ready for whatever beast she had needed to place into it, but found himself holding it closed as he listened to Evelyn sniffle.  “They’re safe now, Evelyn. You saved them” He quietly comforted her. He had meant to place his hand on her shoulder, but found his hand on top of the thestrals head instead due to it leaning on her shoulder. It gently nipped at his fingers when he stroked it’s beak. “We should head back. Get them to the vivarium’s before it gets too late in the evening.” Sebastian reminded them both. Evelyn wiped her eyes that threated to spill their tears.  “One of my thestrals recently had a fawn, she’ll look after this little one. I’m sure of it.” She smiled, carefully picking up the thestral that whined at her for stopping their cuddle. She placed it into the napsack with extra care. Ominis chuckled lightly at the baby thestrals wish to remain snuggled in Evelyn’s arms.  “C’mon you two. Let’s head back.” Evelyn stood and linked her arms into Sebastian’s and Ominis’, just as they had many times before. Though, since the incident with the snidgets, she had found that the mark on her arm increasingly grew irritated when she made physical contact with either of the pair. Despite the continued irritation, she felt comforted by the closeness of her two friends who continued to help her on her adventures. 

****

“Ah, welcome to our side of the hall” Samantha chuckled, seeing Evelyn’s pair of Slytherin’s sit down on either side of her. The two sat and began to collect their food onto their plates with haste. Amit nearly mentioned that a buffalo had more table manners than Sebastian did in the morning…but thought better of it when Evelyn looked directly at him, almost challenging him to say something. “How are the beasts we rescued last night?” Ominis asked, sipping his teacup slowly. “They’re settling in well. Thank you for your help last night. Both of you.” Evelyn smiled, placing her hand on Ominis’ arm. “Though, I daresay the niffler misses you, Sebastian” She chuckled, reaching for a slice of toast, the mark on her arm remained ever visible to her friends. They had briefly discussed the scar before and concluded that a poacher had simply been despicable at the time. Though, they had only ever seen it pale and silver. Today it appeared rather red and irritated.  “Stop scratching it” Amit frowned at Evelyn from across the table, who had begun to scratch at the mark on her left arm.  “Does it hurt?” Sebastian asked, eying up the mark. It appeared pinker than how he had previously seen it. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably from the attention her friends now gave her arm.   “I didn’t even realise I was doing it” She shrugged, taking a bite out of her toast.  “I’ve been thinking about who the mystery ‘G’ could be.” Amit began, earning a groan from Evelyn. “I’ve got a theory myself” Samantha added. Evelyn continued to eat her toast, spinning her hand in a circle, a motioned that her friends knew she made to tell them that she was listening. “Theories?” Sebastian questioned “Mmm. We’ve been trying to figure out who did it. Or at least, what the G means” Amit responded helpfully. “Could be G for Gaunt” Samantha suggested, earning a gasp from Sebastian. Ominis looked mortified at her suggestion. “No, I doubt that. What would the chances of that be?” Evelyn  “I wouldn’t put it past them” Ominis hummed. “Though, I would never forgive myself if it were”  “It’s not Ominis. Plus, why would you be involved? That’s silly. You don’t have to worry” “How do you know?” He demanded, a frown gracing his face.  “I just do, okay?” Evelyn confirmed. “But it’s never really clear in those…letters” Samantha stared, pumping her eyebrows up and down. “Mmm.” Evelyn frowned. "What letters?” Ominis and Sebastian questioned in harmony. “It’s fine. It’s just someone who knows my Father.” Evelyn tried to brush off their concern when Amit began his own suggestion. “Perhaps G stands for a first name? What if it was GARRETH” Amit gasped, trying to break the tension that had built at the mention of letters. Garreth suddenly looked up from his table across the room with a questionable expression. He wasn’t sure who had shouted his name and it showed on his continued frustration as he scanned the hall, trying to find who might have called to him. “Hah! He couldn’t hurt a billywig!” Evelyn chuckled, reminiscing about a failed potions experiment where he had apologised over and over again for staining her robe.  “Why would someone who knows your father be writing to you?” Sebastian smoothly pulled the conversation back to the previous topic.  “Oh, just. Family matters.” Evelyn took a sip from a goblet quickly. “You’re a terrible liar” Sebastian muttered with a smile. “I think it’s an admirer” Samantha interjected, a smile on her face which stripped Sebastian of his own.  “An admirer, who would brand his name on his prospective love’s arm? Sounds like a Gaunt to me” Ominis pursed his lips, setting his teacup down. “G could be Goblins. Remember, they wanted your magic” Amit continued to think of potentials that could fit who G was. He rather enjoyed trying to solve this puzzle.

“AMIT” Evelyn hissed “Not everyone knows that. Not so loud!”  “Ah, sorry.” He blushed from the scolding. Sebastian picked up her hand and turned her arm over, scrutinising the mark closely. A tingle of pain shot down her arm, causing her to involuntarily scratch at the mark again. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” He repeated his question from earlier. “It’s pinker than I remember. Now it looks like a fresh scar, look at the inflammation here” his fingers trailed around the lettering, where the mark had grown increasingly angry and red. “I guess it tingles a bit sometimes. I must have made it red from scratching at it though” she shrugged, giving it another scratch and batting Sebastian’s fingers away. He furrowed his brows, making a mental note to review some of the books he had read from the restricted section. Something sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. 

****

      Later that evening, on top of the Ravenclaw tower, three students gossiped under the starlight of the night sky. They sat huddled in a small circle, wrapped up in blankets, drinking hot chocolate.  “I know he’s handsome, smart and funny. I just feel like we were missing that spark, you know?” Samantha shrugged. “Perhaps that will come with time? Why not hang out with him a little more after class before your next date?” Evelyn suggested. “You could work together on a potion. We all know that Garreth loves to create new concoctions. Why not try and help him perfect one with that Ravenclaw wit of yours” Amit beamed. “I could. Thanks you two, those are both great ideas! We can’t all have natural chemistry like Evelyn and her Slytherins” She nudged Evelyn’s foot with her own from under her blanket. “Oh please, they just friends. Like you two” Evelyn smiled, looking down to the hot chocolate she had nestled between the blanket and her hands. “Like us? Umm, Evelyn, I don’t think…” Amit squinted at her, he tried his best to formulate the words that would explain how Ominis and Sebastian looked at her but was thankful when he found himself interrupted by Samantha. “You know they both like you” She laughed.  “Well I would be shocked if they didn’t like me. We are good friends” Evelyn laughed. “No, not like a friend. Gosh, for a Ravenclaw you can be such a dummy sometimes.” Samantha shook her head. Evelyn tilted her head. “Even Amit can see it. And we all know he’s booksmart, not people smart.” “Hey!” Amit protested “So, you’ve noticed Natsai trying to get your attention?” Samantha asked “Natty? Wait, are you telling me that….” Amit stammered “Point proven. It hurts sometimes, being the only Ravenclaw with a brain” She lifted the back of her hand to her forehead, pretending to faint.  “They do not! I doubt they even remember that I’m a girl sometimes” She chuckled to herself. “They’re so protective of you, I don’t know how you’ve not picked up on it. Need we remind you how they acted when they had to bring you to the infirmary last time?” She shook her head.

“Hypothetically then, if you had to chose one…” Amit tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “AMIT!” Evelyn gasped while Samantha laughed at her friend’s bashfulness.  “So, what. You don’t like them like that?” He asked, curiosity driving his questions. “Now, now. I didn’t say that.” Evelyn grumbled.  “So, who would you choose?” Samantha repeated with a grin, “How would you choose if you had Garreth and Leander knocking at your door?” Evelyn retorted. “Oh, that’s easy. Garreth.” Amit clapped, watching Evelyn and Samantha suddenly look at him in shock. “Ladies, please. That’s not a comparison you can make on any level.” He motioned one hand up high for ‘Garreth’ and motioned another near his feet for ‘Leander’. The two girls cackled at his admission. “I agree. Garreth is the only choice there. Nice try Evelyn. Also, what happened to our sweet, shy friend, Amit? You used to be so bashful.” Samantha chuckled. “Not around my best friends” He smiled and elbowed Evelyn. “Now, who would you choose Evelyn? And don’t dodge the question this time!” Evelyn looked down to her empty cup and sighed. She lifted her mug up and shook it, indicating it’s emptiness. “Time for bed, don’t you think?” Evelyn hesitated. “Evelyn…” Samantha warned. “Perhaps she needs some time to think” Amit grinned. Evelyn rolled her eyes and folded her blanket over her arm. She looked pointedly to Amit “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She shrugged, but her furrowed eyebrows told them that her thoughts were fighting the question they had posed to her. “We’ll pick this up another day” Samantha chuckled. “It looks like your brain is about to catch fire” “Get some rest ladies, I’ll see you in the morning”. Amit bowed, his blanket and mug clasped neatly in his hands as he strolled to his dorm.  “At least we figured out what to do with you and Garreth.” Evelyn smiled, as she followed Samantha back to their dorm. “Why must men be so difficult?” Samantha pondered as she got ready for bed. “Now, that is a question I am sure a hundred Ravenclaws would struggle to answer.” Evelyn laughed as she climbed into bed, her mind still reeling from the thoughts of who she would choose if she ever had the chance to be with one of her Slytherin boys. The two girls continued to laugh until they eventually fell asleep.

[chloeworships]

Humiliation Rituals

Please use your anointing oil especially when you come under demonic attack...ESPECIALLY.

Some folks are planning another ritual. FYI.

BLOCK IT ❌

I've noticed a few things about these rituals:

It accompanies a monitoring spirit which observes you to gather "information" about you to then be used to “expose” you. Your shame is used as a weapon.

This ritual is meant to shame and embarrass someone using supposed "secrets". The key is to own your past and not be ashamed of who you are, who you were, where you are, what happened and what you did or did not do before God changed you. The skeletons are in the closet because they are DEAD 💀 not because you (as a child of God) hide the truth from yourselves or from God. Who can condemn you if God has not? Don't react and let people think what they want.

This ritual is meant to damage your reputation.

As I stated early, please don't feel embarrassed for having to face wickedness. It means you are a warrior of God and are fit to withstand the odds against you but also that you will receive a reward for your love for him after the trials and tribulations.

Tag the artist