#and making sure they will never hurt you or your friends again!

[wtfaniii]

Can you pleaseeee do a Namgyu x reader story where he’s your mean ex boyfriend that secretly still wants you 🙏

Of course! That man has something and you know it girl

From love to hate

Nam-Gyu (player 124) x reader // you

Fem reader!

Summary: You were so miserable that out of 456 people in this game you met again with the man who made your love life miserable a year ago.

Warning: Some emotional abuse, unstable relationship on both sides.

Note: I understand you girl, that boy has something that makes him attractive, I hope this is to your liking and meets your expectations!

The second game was over, the girl just wanted to calm her nerves sitting silently on her bed but she was startled a little when Thanos appeared next to one leap.

—Get lost —she said, rolling her eyes and continuing to play with his fingers.

—How pretty —he said sarcastically.

—You were nicer before —Gyu said, coming to her left side.

She sighed and got out of bed ready to move out of there, she wanted to have zero contact with him after having found in bed with her best friend.

—Fuck you

—¿You kiss with that vocabulary? —Nam-gyu hurried to stop her from escaping and stood in front of her.

—¡Move! ¡I don't want anything to do with you!

Yes, the guy was an idiot, he acted like an idiot throughout their entire relationship and he would always be an idiot.

She thought could tolerate him, she loved him enough to do it but there was a limit she wasn't going to cross, infidelity was something she was never going to get over.

Nam-gyu wasn't going to give up now that he had her so close, she was the only one who loved him just the way he was and even though he had made a mistake by getting between the legs of her slut friend he still couldn't stop thinking about her.

He took her arm with a little more force than he should have, it was inevitable, he wanted to tell her to please stay but instead he said something more hurtful.

—Stop being such a bitch and listen to me.

In his mind he wanted to regret it but the laughter deep inside Thanos made his ego as a man grow.

That was one of his many problems, the influence that third parties managed to have on him.

However, he couldn't think of anything else when he felt the girl's hand crash into his cheek, both becoming the center of attention of the other players.

—If you call me a bitch again, I'll kick you where it hurts the most —she warned him, pointing a finger at him in a threatening manner, to which Nam-gyu raised his hands in a sign of peace while backing away.

—She's a real sweetheart —Thanos said for the second time, amused and sarcastic.

—You have no idea....

[...]

It was time for the third game, the girl managed to overcome each and every one until it was time to pair up and take a cubicle before the rest.

She was alone, she thought that this time it would be the end for her.

Meanwhile Nam-gyu and Thanos had already managed to get an empty cubicle but just before closing the door 124 stopped at the entrance and looked in all directions.

—¡¿What the hell are you doing?! ¡Come in already!

But he ignored it completely, the drug in his system raised his adrenaline and clouded his judgment but the only thing he was quite clear about was that he had to make sure his damn ex-girlfriend was still alive after this.

Seeing her disoriented in the crowd, he didn't think twice and ran towards her, hearing Thanos shouting at him but he kept his eyes on the girl.

As soon as he got close to her, he took her by the shoulders and led her to a cubicle where, after having beaten the players out, he managed to close the door with her.

She was just about to thank him when Nam-gyu waved his hand at her to shut up.

—Not a word —he said, taking deep breaths.

—I was going to tell you that you are an idiot.

He gave her an annoyed look, but she was actually grateful even though she wasn't going to say it out loud.

Despite hearing the screams and gunshots through the door, the tension between them was also palpable.

They had so many things to say to each other but it was neither the time nor the place, Nam-gyu only needed to be so close to death to know that among so much shit in his life she was the only one he needed.

Their relationship had been so close and strong that all it took to end it was a one-night stand with another woman, and now he regretted it.

—I was drugged when I slept with her —he said without turning to look at her and watching through the small crack in the door as the pink soldiers collected the corpses of the eliminated players.

—That doesn't make it better —she replied without much enthusiasm.

Just by hearing her voice he knew that she had not let go of the past either, he knew her well enough to realize that the feeling of wanting to return was mutual.

But neither of them took the step that was required.

Once the doors opened, they both silently left there, Nam-gyu was the first to go towards Thanos who looked at him with his eyes half closed.

[...]

During the voting, the players looked at each other with hatred and other mixed emotions, Nam-gyu's gaze remained on the girl who was on the side of those who had chosen the tag, it was curious how now he too was questioning whether he should choose the circle again or this time make the decision to end the games.

—¡Press the circle! —Thanos shouted euphorically, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Min-su was slightly startled by the sudden shout, "Pathetic" Nam-gyu thought but he also felt somewhat pressured to make a decision.

After Thanos went to vote, he approached the poor trembling boy and spoke into his ear.

—If you don't press the circle you will be left alone without anyone to defend you.

It seems that this was enough to keep the 125 votes in his favor, with that they would win and continue participating, but when it was his turn his hand deviated towards the huge check mark.

He clearly heard Thanos' frustrated groan.

He took the red badge that the guard gave him and stood next to those his companion so hated.

—I honestly thought you would vote to keep playing —the girl murmured, standing next to him —¿What made you change your mind?

—Shut the fuck up —he mumbled angrily.

She still smiled softly at him and took his hand, a simple but meaningful sign that she was still by him side. Just as she had promised him since they met

The votes ended in a tie and now Nam-gyu had to continue playing and tolerating the irritable Thanos, he did not consider him his friend but his partner, he only hoped that this decision making would not influence their bond of trust too much.

Unfortunately, that was not the case and the tension between both sides of players increased with every second in the men's room.

—I'm not mad at you —230 said, approaching him while splashing some cold water on his face —I would also bend over backwards for a hottie like her.

He wanted to avoid fights but 333 butted into his conversation.

—Stop bothering others, you must understand that not all of us want to die in here.

Thanos laughed amused. —Oh look! The two lovebirds want to get out of here just because their girlfriends asked them to!

—I think we've collected enough money —Nam-gyu interrupted with a stern expression and a defensive posture. —Friend, we can still get out of here.

Maybe if 230 hadn't been under the influence of drugs he would have listened to him and they would have had a formal conversation where everyone would have come out a winner.

But that wasn't the case, instead he blurted out the following words.

—¿Why don't I just let you two die in the next game? You two can relax, I'll take care of your girlfriends so they won't be alone, if you know what i mean...

He barely finished the sentence with an arrogant smile when 333 threw a punch that Thanos managed to dodge.

He was going to make fun of it if it hadn't been for Nam-gyu punching him in the face, leaving him stunned and unleashing a fight between the Circle team and the X team.

Nam-gyu may have been a jerk to her, but she was still his girl and even if he had to kill other contestants, he would make sure they both came out alive and with a good amount of money.

Yeah... he did love her.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I'm Still Your Boy

Ex=boyfriend!Eddie x fem!reader

After your boyfriend cheats on you at your birthday party, your ex Eddie reminds you that he'll always be your shoulder to cry on.

cw: hurt/comfort, mention of cheating

You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Maybe it’s because of something you did in a past life. Some sort of karma, perhaps? Whatever the reason, you don’t think you actually deserve to be cheated on by your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who told you that he wanted to save himself for you and you alone, which seemed to be a fucking lie just to get in your pants considering you caught him with the very girl he told you not to worry about. 

They were fucking and to make it even more sad, they were fucking in your bed at your birthday party. Well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top of the shit sundae? And they were so caught up in each other that they didn’t even hear you slam the door. 

Before anyone could see you cry, you hurry to the bathroom, thankful that you’re upstairs and that no one else was around. What’s supposed to be a fun celebration has turned into something you’ll remember forever for all the wrong reasons. 

As soon as you’re alone, you sit on the toilet and begin to cry. Maybe you feel a bit pathetic but you can’t help it. Sure, it’s not like you actually loved the man, but it still hurts like hell. Especially when Josh told you time and time again that Chelsea would never be a problem. 

And now you find yourself wondering how long they’ve been doing it behind your back. And why you feel so hurt. It’s not like you even liked him that much. And now this is the excuse to break up with him that you’ve been looking for. 

You’re full on sobbing now and it’s not like you’re surprised, you were expecting it to happen with the way they’re always looking at each other, but you’d think your boyfriend would at least have some decency to not cheat on you at your birthday party. But apparently that was too much to ask. 

You grab some toilet paper from the roll next to you and blow your nose, absolutely positive that you look terrible with mascara tears streaming down your cheeks, but you can’t get yourself to look. That would just make you feel even worse. You spent hours on your makeup and now you let some stupid boy ruin it in a matter of minutes. 

Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s doing at this party. He wants to be here, but he’s not even sure why he was invited. The two of you broke up years ago and even though it was mutual and there was no bad blood, you just drifted apart. 

He feels so weird being here in this house. There are so many memories that the two of you have created here, a time capsule of your relationship. He wants to be there to celebrate you, but being there with all of the little moments the two of you shared throughout your relationship is far too painful to relive. He misses you so much more than he’d ever care to admit. 

He wants to be your friend again, but seeing the way your new boyfriend was glaring daggers at him when everyone was singing “Happy Birthday”, he’s not so sure that’s a good idea. He’s only known he guy a couple of hours and he’s already convinced with a few drinks in his system, he’d knock him the fuck out. 

His name is Josh for starters. Fucking Josh. That should be a red flag on its own. He also somehow got you the wrong cake which was clearly mostly for him since he seemed so excited about it. That seemed to be a common theme considering the same went for your gift. He got you a video game for a system that you don’t even have and it was the second one in a series. 

And Eddie swore he wasn’t going to leave the party alive when you opened your gift from him. It was a special edition of your favorite book as a child and if looks could have killed, he would have been dead. You seemed so grateful for the gift, even going as far as hugging Eddie, nothing but happy tears pricking your eyes. 

He didn’t realize just how much he missed holding you until you were in his arms again. You just fit so perfectly. Before he could reminisce too much, you pulled away, moving back to sit in Josh’s lap, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Out of all of your friends who were there, Eddie seemed to be the only one who could tell just how little fun you were having. How was it that you seemed to be invisible at your own birthday party? Why was he the only one who seemed to care? The two of you weren’t even friends anymore. Maybe after tonight, that’ll change.He really wants to reconnect. Maybe he can invite you out for coffee and the two of you can catch up. 

It’s almost midnight. Most of the guests have already left or they’re so drunk that they’ve passed out on the various pieces of furniture around the first level of the house. You’ve disappeared and that’s all Eddie cares about. He wants to find you so he can say goodnight and get the fuck out of there before he does something he’ll regret. 

He heads up the stairs on the hunt for you, but he realizes that he needs to go to the bathroom first. He knows he should anyway before he hits the road. He sees the bathroom door is cracked and heads for it, opening it expecting to see it empty, but he finds you sitting on the toilet sobbing your eyes out. 

“Eddie, hey,” you grin at him, trying your best to look normal even though your eyes are red and your cheeks are tear stained. 

“Hey.” He waves awkwardly in a way that you’ve always found so adorable. “Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I’ll give you some privacy. He turns to leave, but you grab hold of his wrist before he can get too far. 

“Will you stay with me?” You ask with a sniff. He would stay with you even if you weren’t crying, but he especially will because you are. 

He shuts the door all the way then sits on his knees in front of you, forcing himself to look at you even though seeing you cry always broke his heart. He doesn’t know why you’re crying but he has a guess. He doesn’t ask even though he really wants to. He wants to wait for you to speak, not wanting to pry, but just keep you company as you go through a hard time. 

He takes the toilet paper from you and wipes away your tears, gently dabbing to preserve what little makeup is left. He knows how important that kind of thing is to you. Well, he’s actually not so sure you feel that way still. He forgets that he doesn’t actually know you anymore. 

“I look terrible, don’t I?” You look up at him, lips trembling and he really doesn't think he can take seeing you cry anymore. It’ll just make his heart break even more than it already has.

“You look beautiful as always.” It’s his go-to response but it always worked like a charm. He wonders if his flirting still has the same effect on you. He used to love seeing the way you’d get all giggly when he would compliment you. 

“But you have to say that, you’re my-” you cut yourself off, remember that Eddie isn’t your boyfriend anymore. Your boyfriend is the reason why you’re crying. “Sorry, habit.” 

“Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head. “You do look beautiful, though. That dress is great, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. You always did have good style, y/n.” 

“Is this all just your clever way of getting into my pants?” The words are dripping with venom and Eddie wonders what he said that made everything shift. He was just paying a compliment, nothing more, nothing less. 

His eyes widen and he stammers, trying his best to save himself quickly as he’s drowning fast. Your eyes widen as well so clearly you’re just as surprised by your sudden outburst. You have no idea where it came from especially since Eddie has never been that kind of guy and he especially wouldn’t be now knowing that you have a boyfriend.

“No,” he finally says as he’s able to find the words. “I was just paying you a compliment and you know that.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” You’re shaking your head, hating how you’ve spoken to him, accusing him  of something that he clearly wasn’t even doing. “I just caught Josh cheating on me and I guess I’m taking it out on you.” 

“He what?” Oh now he’s livid. He’s got to kiss this guy’s ass now that he finally has an excuse. 

“It’s my fault,” you shake your head again. “I wasn’t giving him enough attention-” your words are cut off by Eddie taking your face in his hands, staring you down. 

“It’s not your fault. Stop making excuses for him y/n. That guy is a fucking loser and he doesn’t deserve you. He deserves to end up broke and alone.” You know he’s right but just want to pass the blame onto yourself because then there would actually be a reason for Josh’s cheating other than the fact that he just doesn’t seem to care about you. 

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” He does in your eyes. ever since the two of you started hanging out, he had a knack for telling you exactly what you needed to hear even if it was a little too blunt for your liking. You appreciated that he never failed to tell you the truth no matter how much it may have hurt.

“I try.” It seems like all of your feelings for each other that have been bottled up are pouring out, now almost palpable because of how strong they are.

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Eddie replies, moving his thumbs back and forth across your cheeks just like he used to do. “I’ll be kicking myself for letting you slip through my fingers for the rest of my life.”

“What if we gave it another try? The friendship part?” Your face lights up at his suggestion and you decide that this is the best birthday present you’ve ever received. 

“I’d really like that. Hey, I think Benny’s is still open. Do you want to get something to eat?” 

“I’d love nothing more.” Eddie helps you up from the toilet and leads you out the front door where you head to his van to head to the diner. 

The two of you find yourselves in your favorite booth, eating and laughing like no time has passed. You stay there into the early morning as the sun comes up, finishing off your meal with a milkshake that the two of you share for old time’s sake and right then and there, Eddie realizes that he’s still is very much your boy, still wrapped around your goddamn finger just the way he likes and there’s no other place he’d rather be.

[street-smarts00]

Next to You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: While spending the night in a hotel for a case, a terrifying nightmare shakes you awake. But someones there to comfort you.

WC: 2k 

Tags: One bed trope BUT WITH A TWIST TEE HEE, HUGE hurt/comfort moment, some touch starved babies, friends to lovers A/N: the relieving feeling of finally finishing a fic!!! This was fun to write, enjoy nerds ;) beta read by the lovely @whats-yesterday00

Your lungs were starting to burn from running so fast. The heavy steps speeding up from behind made your chest tighten. You flinched at the sound of shots fired in your direction but didn’t stop running. 

The SUV’s finally came into view. As you closed the distance, the rest of your team rushed out. As they reached for their holsters, you heard more gunshots. But not from them. 

Half the team was down once you reached them. It didn’t make any sense. You were so far ahead of the unsub. There’s no way he could’ve gotten 3 clear shots to your team. You fell to the snow on the ground, your warm breath turning into a fog in the air as you panted. The sight in front of you ripped your insides to shreds. 

As your heart rate sped up, eyes shot open. You were met with the almost pitch black ambiance of the hotel room. You could feel your heart beating throughout your whole body and could practically hear it in your ears. 

You slowly sat up as the tightness in your chest returned. Tears started to fall down your cheeks.

You didn’t get nightmares often. Before your current job, it rarely ever happened. They became more frequent the more you worked at the BAU. Tonight was one of those nights that your worst fears tainted your dreams. 

Of course tonight it had to happen. When you were away on a case miles away from home and sharing a hotel room. Sharing a room with Spencer. 

You didn’t have any objections to sharing a room with him, but the nerves from your feelings for him never went away. You’d fallen asleep sitting next to him on the jet before, but this was for a whole night- and for possibly multiple nights. The only thing that eased some of your anxiety was that he had his own bed far from you. If you were even remotely close to him you’d have to resist not reaching for him. 

And now you had a nightmare with him in the same room. 

The idea of waking him up made you feel prematurely guilty. The fear of crying infront of him made you mortified. You wiped at your tears and tried to hold back from crying. You kept glancing at the other bed to make sure Spencer didn’t wake up.

Your breath became heavier as little gasps threatened to fall out so you clasped your hands over your mouth. The tears blurred your vision and your head went dizzy as you tried to control your breath. Then, out of your control, a choked sob escaped your lips. 

It alerted Spencer's attention almost immediately. Half awake, he stirred in bed and called out your name to confirm if you were awake. 

This only made you feel worse. You tried to stay as quiet as possible. Didn’t move an inch and didn’t even breathe. But still, small whimpers left your mouth as you resisted from hyperventilating. 

Spencer, now fully awake, shot up as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room looking for you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, full of concern. 

The second he heard you sniffle. he sprang out of his bed and rushed to yours. He sat down beside you and carefully placed a hand on your back. “What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

You sniffled again and met his eyes. You could just barely see them thanks to the small amount of light peeking in through the window. “I- I-” you could barely get out in between gasped breaths. 

He immediately wrapped his arms around you and placed your head on his chest. The embrace made you finally fall apart. You sobbed into his chest and let the tears stream down your face. You clung to him like your life depended on it. In return, he held you as close as he was physically able to. His one arm gently held your head against him while the other slowly caressed your back. The action made you turn to jelly in his arms. 

Once your breathing slowed down and your heart rate calmed, you separated from Spencer. He carefully pushed your hair behind your ears and held your face in his hands. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he whispered.  

You sniffled once more, “Not really.” 

He nodded, “why don’t you try to go back to sleep, okay?” 

You nodded back to answer. 

“If you need me just say the word.” He started to get up from your bed, but before he could leave, you interrupted. 

“Spence, could you uh,” you stumbled on your words. 

He sat back down. Looking at you with the most caring eyes while he lets you take your time. 

You ignored the warning signals going off in your brain. The warnings that told you this was a step too far. The anxiety that told you this action will lead you growing too close to him and hurting your unrequited feelings. 

“Could you stay? Please,” you pleaded in a quiet voice. 

“Of course.” 

The weight on your shoulders started to lift. You resumed your spot under the covers as Spencer walked around to the other side of the bed and followed your actions. He left enough room between the two of you so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by his presence or be uncomfortable. 

As if you could ever be uncomfortable around him. 

As he whispered goodnight, you carefully reached over to his side under the covers. Your hand found his. He instinctively took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

As the minutes rolled bye, you came no closer to falling asleep. It feels like you’ve spent the past half hour tossing and turning. Every time you closed your eyes, the images from your nightmare flashed before you. 

At some point, you moved enough to wake up the man next to you. 

Spencer called out your name, “you alright?” 

“I’m sorry for waking you up again,” you apologized, deflecting his answer. 

He turned around to face you. “I don’t mind. What’s up?” 

“I can’t sleep. Too scared.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked again. He knew hearing that question in a state of stress could sometimes be found annoying. But more importantly, he knew it was a key way of relieving that stress. 

After a moment of silence from you, he rescinded the question. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t-“

“You died.” 

Your voice sounded quiet and fragile. “And it was my fault.” 

His eyes and voice were full of worry as he spoke your name. 

“I know it’s not real. I know it never happened but… I’ve never felt so scared.” Your eyes threaded to spill with tears and you desperately tried blinking them away. 

Spencer reached for your upper arm and rubbed his thumb against your skin. He saw you start to relax at the contact. 

Your breath shook as you tried to inhale. “I don’t know how I can go to sleep after that.” 

He’s quiet for a moment considering his approach to comfort you. He saw how well you responded to physical touch earlier in the night. When he comforted you with an embrace your stress reduced significantly. 

“I have an idea. Come here,” he moved the blanket to allow you space next to him. 

You nervously inched closer to him. 

“Put your head on my shoulder.” You hesitated before complying and settling at his side. Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist and he himself hesitated before pulling you closer. His hand rested on your back. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered. 

“It’s more than okay,” you muttered back. 

He took that as a sign to repeat his previous actions from earlier and run his hand up and down your back. This time much slower and gentler. The action made you melt in his arms. You reacted to the gesture by burying your face into his neck. 

“Thank you.. for this,” you mumbled. He could feel your breath against his skin. 

“I’d do anything to make sure you feel safe,” he held onto you like you provided the air he breathed. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispered, just barely audible. 

The only reason you could hear him was because he was so close. His words sent shivers down your spine and butterflies in your stomach. 

“I always feel safe around you, Spence.” 

The walls you had carefully built up when he asked you to lay next to him were starting to come down. The moment became too sweet and sensual to ignore. Every one of his touches was driving you to the brink of insanity. Your neck and ears grew in temperature as the feelings overwhelmed you. Your heart rate started to pick up at a racing speed. 

Unfortunately, Spencer noticed. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, why?” you answered much too quickly. 

“Your heart's beating really fast.”  

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine, there’s no reason.” 

He saw through you like glass. “Of course there’s a reason.” Spencer loosened his grip and shifted his weight to get a better look at you. His hand moved to the small of your back. 

“Is it the nightmare? Is it still bothering you?” he asked, his voice quiet and kind. 

You mumbled a timid, “no.” 

He examined your features, watching you get lost in your own head. “What are you thinking?” 

You looked up into his eyes. Your thoughts were swirling with too much to even give him a semblance of what was going on. Everything from his touch, his smell, his irises looking straight into your soul. 

While riding on the intoxicating wave of his care, you let a confession slip out. 

“I think I want to kiss you right now.” 

Spencer's eyes widened and although you couldn't see it, his cheeks flushed with red.

“Oh,” was all he could make out, at a loss for words. 

His pause caused your anxiety to spike. You immediately regret your actions. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

You started to retract from him and turn away. But before you could flee from his hold, he grabbed your upper arm, pulling you back towards him. In an instant, Spencer's lips crashed into yours.

The initial shock had your lips frozen, before they started to melt against his. As he felt you relax, he poured more passion into you. The kiss tasted like desperation. Like you both were holding in a hunger that had driven you to starvation. 

His hands couldn’t find a place to rest. They were traveling up and down your figure, from your waist, back, hips, neck, and face. Your hands settled at the side of his face and the back of his neck while your fingers played with the ends of his hair. Spencer sighed into your mouth and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. 

As the kiss continued, Spencer's hand traveled down to your thigh. You instinctively wrapped your leg around him. But in a moment of nervousness, his movements glitched and lips slowed. His hand gently resumed its pawing at your thigh as he softened in your hold. 

Time felt like it stood still.  You breathed each other in like it was the first time you felt fresh air. 

The only thing concerning you or him was taking a literal breath of air and releasing from the kiss. 

You both pulled away gasping for breath and started to fall down from the high. As heavy exhales leave you, Spencer pressed small delicate kisses against your cheeks and the corners of your lips. His hold on your leg loosened and his fingers slowly traveled up and down your thigh. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that before,” you admit, sheepishly smiling. 

He smiled back at you, “me neither.” 

“Can we talk more about this in the morning?” you asked. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I'm exhausted.” After the passion had washed away, you were reminded how much sleep you lost throughout the night. 

“Absolutely,” he said with a fond and relieved look. “Come on, we should get some rest.”

You both settled into a more comfortable position to fall asleep. There was an unconscious understanding between you two and that there was no way you were separating.

[hiiikiko]

𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕔 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝!𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖

rival!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

────୨ৎ────

rival!ellie met you on the first day of the winter quarter, she didn’t think much of you but bit back a chuckle at your dorky scarf and beanie

rival!ellie who gradually realizes what a nuisance you’ll be to her spotless academic record.. she’s never actually had to study before but now she’s hitting the books to make sure that you don’t surpass her

rival!ellie who kinda hates your guts.. she can’t stand the way you effortlessly answer the professors questions, especially since you’re the reason she’s been missing out on parties by being in the library so much

rival!ellie who has to admit, she admires your hard work and dedication… even if it makes her lose her mind that you know how to perfectly sketch an HR diagram for a typical global cluster and identify the various observed populations and interpret them on the basis of stellar evolution theory

rival!ellie who grows closer with you… not because she likes you, of course! more so because the professor keeps grouping you together, saying stupid bullshit like “it must be lonely at the top and now you have a friend, ellie!” or “great minds think alike, therefore, you’ll be great friends”

rival!ellie who declines all your offers to hangout

rival!ellie who refuses to acknowledge the shared interests the two of you have… like there’s no way in hell that you’re as big of a Savage Starlight fan as she is, fuckin poser lol

rival!ellie who rants about you to anyone that listens… it’s getting to be a big problem in her circle, so much so that Jesse and Dina are beginning to think that she actually has a crush on you….. hmm

rival!ellie who’s a little more than hurt when you deny over and over that you two have potential as a couple

rival!ellie who decides to take ‘revenge’ out on you by making out with random girls in the hallway, all the while making eye contact with you and smirking when you mouth the words ‘you’re such a pig’ to her

rival!ellie who smirks when she realizes that you’ve heard about how amazing she is in bed, the way you avoid making eye contact with her in the middle of a heated argument is enough to let on that you know

rival!ellie who loves loves loves seeing you sad about the fact that she exceeds you in every subject that is until…

rival!ellie who’s wold comes crashing down around her when you get one point above her on a test.. she literally crashes out like think bella in new moon type crashing out.. she finally picks herself back up, trudges to the library to hit the books and get back into it.. she will not be second to you again.

rival!ellie who kinda becomes a stalker… she can’t help it, she needs to know how you got that one point above her score! like, it’s never been heard of in Blackwell…. she must know

rival!ellie who when you finally confront her about her stalking, scoffs and shakes her head n says “you wish, dumbass” you roll your eyes and invite her to study with you, since she’s so curious… which she takes up.. not because she wants to spend time with you! it’s just keep your enemies close, right??

rival!ellie who can hardly focus on your study date hangout (??), like you’re so close… how can someone be this smart and pretty, i mean annoying.. you also smell really good… what is that? vanilla?

rival!ellie who makes these study ‘hangouts’ a regular thing… whether you know it or not, she hangs around the table where you study and acts like it’s a coincidence and says ‘i was here first, stupid’

rival!ellie who tucks a strand of hair behind you on one of these ‘hangouts’ and when you look up at her with those pretty doe eyes she smacks the side of your head and mutters something about a fly being on you and that you should probably take a shower or something

rival!ellie who kinda starts to grow fond of you… you’re the only person who actually gets her witty astrophysics puns and jokes, it feels nice not having to explain herself all the time

rival!ellie who’s jaw drops like a 42lb block of tungsten when she finds out that you of all people have a girlfriend… like come on! who would date you?! you’re stupid, annoying… okay, so you’re also kinda smart, pretty, hot… ahem! not that she’s noticed!

rival!ellie who then trash talks your girlfriend to her friends: ‘she obviously had shit taste in girls like come on, that nerd is the best she could do? ha!”

rival!ellie who overhears your girlfriend talking rather grossly about you in the locker room and shoves her into the locker but it’s not like she’s defending your honour or whatever. she’s a feminist! talking that way about any woman makes her blood boil!

rival!ellie who grumbles when you lecture her about how she’s taken your little rivalry too far by giving your now ex girlfriend a bloody nose… as you press a bag of peas against ellie’s black eye

rival!ellie who now likes frozen peas

rival!ellie who kinda likes the way you take care of her after the fight, smiling slightly and wearing her blackened eye like a badge of honour, like she’s your white knight.. or whatever, she doesn’t care

rival!ellie who scares off any guy/girl that looks at you because she feels weirdly possessive of you, like… you’re her rival, not theirs!

rival!ellie who FINALLY accepts her crush on you after countless lectures from Dina and Jesse…

rival!ellie who trash talks any romantic interest of yours “oh come on, they’re not even that hot… i’m way hotter than them, right Dina?” “whaaaat the totally flunked last semesters exam, pfft”

rival!ellie who’s still very, very competitive with you but now finds it kinda cute and sexy when you gloat about how you bested her in another quiz

rival!ellie who begins to make advances on you… starting off with a simple bet like loser buys the other a soda then working up to loser does whatever the other wants and you being the overly confident academic that you are agree

rival!ellie who pours herself into studying, even putting down her comics in preparation for the next quiz… she’d rather be damned than lose to you, she needs to win this

rival!ellie who wins! but that means… you have to do whatever she wants….

“i want a kiss,” ellie sneers, her finger under your chin

“excuse me?”

“you heard me” she leans back against the desk, “i want a kiss”

you cross your arms, what the hell was she thinking? is she high? has she gone mad? i mean, you often hear about geniuses going mad— but before you can finish that thought, ellie is pulling you in for a kiss, in the middle of the classroom… it’s sweet and her kiss is almost hungry, like she’s been waiting for this

she finally pulls away and with a chuckle says “huh, guess you come in second for kissing too”

what an asshole but you’re not one too pass up a challenge…. so… you invite her back to your dorm room

[navybrat817]

Hiiii Navy- how is our biker Bucky? I'm excited that his reader is a nurse because I am also a nurse...!

I'm glad you're excited, and I may have to get more of your insight as this goes on. And how he's doing...

Thinking About You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky's thinking about you after meeting you.

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Mix of fluff and dirty thoughts, love at first sight, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'll try to post more of this AU once more. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s thinking about your beautiful eyes and smile, but how you’re much more than a pretty face and how you must really be some sort of angel. You were a nurse, after all. Nurses helped provide comfort, protection, and care to others. You helped people heal. And, fuck, do you look good in white.

He’s thinking about how you listened to him when he talked. You were actually interested in his writing and the bar. He hoped you’d stop by at some point. Maybe he could convince you to stay after closing so the two of you could have the place to yourself. He’d even share some of his writing with you.

He’s thinking about how your eyes will light up when he brings the club to the blood drive tomorrow. At least, he hopes they’ll light up and that you don’t be afraid. His brothers could come across as intimidating from a first glance, but they were all good guys and the drive was for a good cause. You also didn’t seem put off that he was a biker.

He’s thinking about what an idiot he is for not asking for your number, and how he should’ve gone after you when you left. If he had your number right now, he’d message you just to say hi. He wasn’t leaving the drive tomorrow without asking for it.

He’s thinking about what your past relationships were like. How did your exes treat you? He’ll treat you well. Why didn’t the relationships last? Did anyone break your trust? If someone hurt you he’ll take the pain away. If the pain is no longer there he’ll do his best to help you should it surface unexpectedly.

He’s thinking about how he wants to take care of you, how he wants to learn your love language, and earn your trust. He wants to be your friend and have you confide in him, to learn your fears so he can protect you from them, and to learn how to make you smile again when you’re feeling down or hurt.

He’s thinking about how he wants to confide in you, too. To be vulnerable and open. It isn’t easy to let people in, but you make it seem effortless for him. He wants you to see every side of himself, every shadow, and tell you every story about every scar and tattoo.

He’s thinking about you as he lays in bed, fisting his cock, imagining the sounds you’d make as you lay beneath him. Or on top of him. How you’ll melt on his tongue. How blissed out you’d look when you fall apart. He knows you’ll feel like heaven when he’s inside you if you ever let him get that far.

He’s thinking about you post orgasm when he catches his breath. It’s a little scary that he already wants you to be his girl, and he refuses to believe it’s just infatuation. It’s something deeper. And if you give him a chance, he’ll make sure you never regret it.

I guess we can consider this part of Ficlet Friday? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

[revelboo]

Has anyone told you today you are one of the best blogs to be found this side of the sun? Cause you sure as hell are. Also I cry every time at TFP Starscream being called a "turkey" cause omg he looks like one 😂 (thats also a nickname I got a lot as a kid xD A varient of "goober" lol) Also glad you are starting to upload some of these to Ao3 cause tumblr can be kinda hard to find things on xD especially with longer things. Also as a Optimus lad im falling over myself for you OP stuff, I eat everyting up between Op stuff and eagerly await TFA Op again (whenever you get the vibe to at least)

He’s definitely one of my favorite iterations of Optimus! Still serious, but not as jaded and so burned out, much more willing to smile still

Broken Heart Pt 3

TFA Optimus x Reader

• Always uncomfortable picking up and carrying Sari because of how fragile she is, you're no better. Can feel your heart beating against his servos, but where Sari is bold and fearless, you're less certain and almost timid in his hands. Glancing up at his face again and again as he carries you cradled to his chassis. Do you feel pressured to go with him? Is that it? He hadn't meant to make you feel like you had no choice. "Are you sure you don't need a human medic?" Reaching a servo to touch your forehead and the little cut there, he’s uncomfortably aware of the discolored spots appearing on your skin. Bruises Sari had called them and these are his fault. Unable to protect you from his own hands.

• Shaking your head, you're not sure if it's because he saved you from that other one or if it's his deep, soothing voice, but you feel safe with him. “You saved my life,” tell him, cautiously resting a palm against his chassis when he looks down at you. “I- thank you,” you finish awkwardly, hating how inadequate those words are. He could have saved himself, not risked his own life to try and protect you, a complete stranger not even his own species. He’d been hurt for you. And nothing you do can ever be enough to repay him for that.

• You’re thanking him? Don’t you realize Blitzwing only attacked because of him? If anything, you should hate him. He should be begging you to forgive him for endangering you, but the words fail him when you rest your head against his chassis. And you’re so small in his servos, warm and needing him in a way Sari rarely does with so many other protectors who are better at talking to her. Connecting and understanding her. “You never need to thank me for keeping you safe.” Aware of Bulkhead watching the interaction, he vents softly. Because no matter what he does, there’s always going to be that guilt that you were in danger because of him and he wants so bad to make it right.

• Relaxing into those big hands, exhaustion is all that’s left after the fear and adrenaline slip from you. Just want to curl up and rest. Maybe have a good cry somewhere safe. And even though you have no idea where he’s taking you, you’re strangely sure it is a safe place. That there’s nowhere safer than in his hands. When he approaches the old building, it doesn’t look that impressive as the green one slides open the big hangar style door so they both can duck inside. And then your heart is racing again. There’s more of them, see their optics widen when they spot you before a red and white one hurries over. From somewhere further inside the building, you can smell chili cooking and your stomach growls. “What happened?” The red and white one snarls as the big, green alien heads deeper into the building and you hear him talking to someone, saying, “You came back.”

• “The Decepticons happened,” he says, attention sliding from Ratchet to you as you try to hide your face against him as if uneasy with the other’s curiosity. “It’s alright. They’re friends,” he adds, trying to reassure you as you glance up at him. Looking to him for protection and it spreads warm through his spark. Wants to be worthy of your trust, to be your protector to make up for endangering you to begin with. Shifting you against him, he introduces himself and his fellow Autobots, smiling when you softly offer your own name.

Previous

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

"Okay, recap moment," you began, sitting at a table in the café with Rick, Folio, and Grace, the sun beginning to set outside and filling the room with hues of red and orange.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, he’s wanted to win you back," Rick explained again after taking a slow sip from his coffee, his voice tinged with guilt. "And he asked for my help, because apparently I’m his only friend."

"So, the psycho has been trying to get your attention all this time," Folio interjected, "and when Noah left for a couple of days, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something that would drive a wedge between you two."

"So, he had you leave him," you pointed to Rick, "in front of Noah’s house after he got drunk, knowing that the next morning, Noah would find him there and think I'd cheated on him."

Rick lowered his eyes, unable to meet your gaze. "Yeah... that was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew Noah would be hurt, and he knew that would push him away from you."

"Noah didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because he thought what happened with Hannah was about to happen again. And now, he feels awful because he thinks it's his fault—like he can’t keep someone who loves him around," Folio continued.

"And you feel guilty because if you had realized Jason’s intentions sooner, maybe you could have stopped this from happening," Rick added, concluding the chain of events.

"Wow," Grace remarked. "I still have so many questions."

"Yeah, me too," Rick agreed. "Like, why are you even still here? You had nothing to do with any of this."

"Hey! I work here too, okay?" Grace shot back. "I have every right to stay as long as I want."

“So,” you turned to Folio, disregarding the bickering between the punk guy and your friend, or whoever Grace was to you, “what do you think I should do?”

"Go to him," Folio urged. "Talk things through. Please. I can’t keep watching him like this. I don’t think he’s showered in two weeks."

Grace wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "If I hadn’t helped Jason, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, that’s how things played out," you replied. "And there’s no turning back."

"But things can still be fixed if you both put aside your fears and have a real conversation," Grace encouraged.

Folio leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. "Exactly. It might not be easy, but if you want to fix things, this is where it starts."

"I’m not sure he wants to talk to me," you said, your voice uncertain as you stared down at the table, trying to sort through your swirling thoughts.

Grace looked at you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward onto the table. "We know he loves you, and you love him. And it’s so obvious you both are suffering now! If you go to him and tell him everything was part of Jason’s plan, and that his weird friend here explained how things really went down, he’ll listen. I promise you!"

Rick shook his head, smirking but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Hey, weird friend to who, Barbie with black hair?"

Grace just rolled her eyes.

Folio sighed, but his voice grew more serious. "Look, trust me. Go to him, tomorrow. It’s been two weeks, and he’s starting to realize he let you go just because he was too scared. You can’t just sit around waiting for him to make the first move because he won't. He's in a depressive mood right now."

A silence fell for a moment as you thought about their words. Folio's eyes were sincere, and for a brief second, it felt like there was still a chance to fix things. You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling over you.

Finally, you nodded. "Okay," you said softly, "I’ll do it."

After Grace and Folio left, you and Rick stood outside the café, the cool evening air pressing against you as the sunset faded into the night. The streets were quieter now, the hum of the city barely reaching you.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. "I… I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I know you probably hate me right now for helping Jason, for being his friend. I know what I did was wrong. But he was the only friend I ever had, you know? And I just... I always did what he asked, because I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I kept helping him, I’d prove I was a good friend. But looking at it now, I see I was just blinded by that need to belong. I'm so fucking stupid."

You were silent for a moment, taking in what he said. It didn’t make you angry. Instead, a sense of understanding washed over you. You shook your head gently. "I’m not mad at you, Rick," you said softly. "I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just... you need better friends. Friends who aren’t going to pull you into things like this. Friends who won’t take advantage of your loyalty."

Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted, but there was still a trace of guilt on his face. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he muttered.

"You don’t have to deserve it," you replied with a small smile. "People make mistakes. What matters is what we do after." You paused for a moment, thinking carefully about the next words you wanted to say. "You can come see me, us, at the café anytime. If you ever need to talk, or just... hang out. I'm sure Noah would like you too, you know? You punched Jason, after all."

He looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, as if your words were a relief he hadn’t expected. "Thanks. Really. I know I messed up, but I’m done following Jason. I’ve made my choice."

You nodded. "I’m glad to hear that."

Rick smiled, though it was a little uncertain at first. "I’ll come by sometime."

As you both turned to leave, you gave Rick one last look. "Thanks again, Rick. Take care."

And with that, you parted ways, but not with the same weight on your shoulders you had carried earlier. Things could get better—for both of you.

Noah sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, trying his best to smile as he tickled Luna, her giggles filling the air. It was a soft sound, the kind of laughter that once brought him a sense of peace, but now it felt like a distant memory.

He tried to focus on her, on her innocent joy, but the weight of everything pressing on him still felt unbearable. He could hardly summon the energy to keep up with her playful energy.

"Daddy! Knights don’t tickle princesses!” she said, holding up a finger as if to emphasize her point as she laughed.

"Oh really? So why am I doing that now?"

"Because you are a bad knight, daddy!"

Noah let go and finally dropped his hands to his sides, letting the kid breathe.

Luna, her tiny hands gripping his arm as she attempted to climb onto his lap, paused for a moment and looked at him with her big, innocent eyes. She tilted her head to one side, sensing that something was off. "Daddy," she said in her small, soft voice, "will Y/N come today?"

The question hit Noah like a punch to the stomach. He froze for a second, trying to think, his chest tightening as his mind raced for an answer. How could he explain this to her? How could he possibly tell his three-year-old daughter that the woman who had been a constant presence in their lives, the woman he had loved, was gone and might never return?

He forced a smile as he moved some strands of hair from her little chubby face, but it felt hollow. "No, sweetie," he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. "Y/N won't be coming here for a while."

Luna’s face fell for a moment, and Noah’s heart twisted at the sight. She didn’t understand, not fully. But she could already feel the absence. She blinked and then asked, her voice so innocent and hopeful, "Oh, is she on vacation?"

Noah nodded slowly, trying to hold it together. He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "She’s on vacation."

Luna seemed to accept that answer, her small face brightening again, and Noah couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was he lying to her? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Oh,” Luna said, her voice soft and wistful. “I wish I could go with her. I want to see the mountains with Y/N.”

Noah’s heart broke a little more as she spoke, the simple, innocent wish from his daughter ringing in his ears.

He looked down at her, her eyes filled with that pure, untainted hope, and he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wished things were different, wished he could turn back time and make the mess he had created disappear. But all he could do now was nod, his voice filled with emotion as he replied, “Yeah… me too.”

His gaze fell on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet Luna had made with you. She seemed so happy when she gave it to him, saying that you and she had one similar too that Noah couldn't say no. He wondered where you put yours. If it was lying forgotten at the bottom of a trash can or if he was on your wrist too and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking about you looking at it.

The pink was an extreme contrast to his tattoos in a way that made him smile and made his skin burn at the same time.

Luna didn’t seem to sense the weight of his words. Instead, she smiled brightly, her small hands gripping his shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. “Maybe when Y/N comes back, we can all go to the mountains together, Daddy. And see bears.”

Noah’s throat tightened, and he could barely choke out a laugh. "Maybe," he said quietly, his voice breaking just a little. “Maybe we can.”

That late evening, you were at home, the wind outside picking up, howling against the windows.

But then, through the noise, you heard something else—faint, almost drowned out by the gusts of wind. It was a soft whimpering sound. You froze, wondering if you’d imagined it. Another sound followed, louder this time, and it was unmistakable.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart racing. Was someone out there? You opened the door cautiously. The wind whipped around you, but you could make out something small huddling near the porch steps.

A tiny, scruffy ball of fur, sat there looking up at you. You bent down, your breath catching in your throat. A small puppy—probably only a few months old—was staring up at you with big, wide eyes, the color of dark amber. The fur on its body was matted and dirty, but you could tell that, despite its appearance, it wasn’t in horrible condition. It was skinny, too, ribs showing a bit too much through its dirty fur but it didn’t seem too malnourished.

You crouched down, reaching out cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey there, little one… where did you come from?” The puppy didn’t flinch, but tilted its head at you, studying you curiously, its little tail flicking.

“Do you have a home?” you asked again, more gently this time, hoping it could understand. It just stared at you, unblinking, before it started to shuffle forward, its paws making soft noises on the porch.

“Well, I guess you don’t have a place to go, do you?” you sighed, your heart already melting at the sight of the poor thing. The puppy continued its advance, slowly squeezing between your legs and making its way into the house. You blinked, surprised, but then a soft laugh escaped you.

“Okay, I guess you've already decided where you're going to stay,” you said with a smile, closing the door behind you. You watched the little creature wander inside.

You paused for a moment, your mind spinning with what to do next. You glanced around the small space, eyes landing on the kitchen. Your fridge. Maybe there was something you could feed it.

Opening the fridge, you found some leftover chicken, cooked and ready to go. Without hesitation, you grabbed it, placing it down on a plate for the pup. You watched as the little dog immediately pounced on the food, devouring it in a matter of seconds, the sound of its chewing filling in the silence of the house.

As the dog finished, you crouched down beside it, rubbing its back, and you finally understood the puppy was a male. “What now, little one? You just going to stay here with me?” you asked, your voice soft.

The dog responded with a loud, excited bark, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped up in front of you, as if to say “Yes, please!”

You chuckled lightly. “Guess that’s a yes,” you smiled, patting the puppy’s head.

“Alright then, you can stay with me for now.”

Without thinking twice, you picked the little thing up, holding him carefully in your arms as you carried him toward the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water, and carefully set the puppy down.

You took your time, softly scrubbing the dirt out of his brown and black fur.

Just as you were finishing up, the puppy suddenly shook his body, spraying water everywhere. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the tiny creature soaking your clothes and the bathroom floor, but you didn’t mind. The laugh felt good, like a release, like a bit of normalcy in the chaos that had surrounded you lately.

“You really know how to make a mess, huh?” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand as the dog looked up at you, his fur dripping wet and his expression utterly adorable.

After a few more moments, you helped the puppy out of the tub and wrapped it in a towel, rubbing it gently to dry it off. He seemed to enjoy the attention, snuggling into the towel as if it had finally found a safe place. You sat on the floor with him for some moments.

Then, you looked down at the tiny creature, now dry and warm, curled up on the towel beside you, his little eyes closing in contentment. “You're a good boy,” you said softly, smiling as the puppy let out a quiet yawn.

That night, he whined until you picked him up and let him sleep in the bed with you, his body pressed close to yours, keeping you almost as warm as Noah's had.

The next morning, before going to the café, you left enough food and water around for the dog before heading out, promising to think of a suitable name for him.

When you were at work, it had started raining, and when you stepped out of the coffee shop during the afternoon, it hadn't stopped yet.

The cold rain immediately soaked through your clothes as you reached your car.

The city streets were slick with water, and the dull hum of distant thunder echoed in the sky, but you barely noticed. Your mind was consumed with the need to reach Noah. You had to. You had already waited too much.

You got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Nothing. You tried again. And again. The engine sputtered but refused to start, the engine light flashing mockingly at you in the dark interior. Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath and tried once more, but the car just refused to cooperate. It was as if the universe itself had decided that this was not the night for you to see Noah, that fate was conspiring against you, and all the progress you'd just made would come crashing down.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, staring helplessly at the wheel. Frustration surged inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. The rain was pouring harder now, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

But then, in that moment of frustration, something shifted inside you. You wiped your damp face with the back of your hand and exhaled, steadying yourself. This wasn’t the end, not yet. You weren’t going to give up this easily.

Noah was waiting for you. Even if maybe he didn’t know that. You couldn’t afford to let something as trivial as a car breaking down stop you.

"Fine," you whispered to yourself, the determination in your voice solidifying. "I’ll walk."

Without another thought, you opened the door, slammed it shut, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. The streets blurred with each step you took, your soaked clothes clinging to you as you began your journey toward Noah, your mind set on one thing: You needed to see him.

The rain was hitting the ground in heavy, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets into rivers when you reached Noah's house. The sound of it pounded against your ears, drowning out everything else. You stood there, drenched to the bone, the cold water soaking through your coat and clothes, your hair was wet, dripping down and sending a chill through your neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Noah.

Nothing mattered except Noah.

The cold air pressed against your skin, your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts spinning.

You reached the front door, the familiar house looming before you, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not when everything had been shattered, and the quiet that hung between you two was almost suffocating.

Finally, you pressed the doorbell, the sound of it echoing louder in the still night than you had anticipated. The seconds felt like hours, and then, the door creaked open.

There he was, standing in the doorway, but he wasn’t the same Noah. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his face was drawn. The person you had known—the one who laughed with you late at night, the one who made you feel safe—felt distant now, a ghost of the man you had loved.

He looked at you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as the rain kept pouring all around you. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even move. You couldn't read him, it was like he was trying to keep you at arm’s length, afraid that if you got too close, you might shatter him further.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. What could you even say? How could you explain what had happened, explain how everything had fallen apart because of one man's manipulation? You knew this was your fault, too.

“Noah,” you said, voice shaky as you finally met his gaze. “I... I need to talk to you. Please.”

His expression remained overall hard, a wall that you couldn’t break through, not yet. He looked down for a moment, his jaw tightening, as if he was fighting the urge to turn away from you.

But when he looked at you, his eyes were soft, as if despite everything he couldn't look at you with anger.

"What?" he muttered, his voice strained, as if a single word was causing him physical pain.

You took a deep breath.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, I—I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it. I thought that chapter was closed, that he was a thing of the past, that I was done with him. And I was. Because I love you and I'll always love you and only you. But he wasn’t done with me. I should’ve known. And I... I was too fucking stupid to realize he never wanted to let me go. Not really. He wanted to win me back, to tear us apart, and I was blind to it."

He just stared at you, so you kept talking. Seeing him like that was absolutely breaking you.

"He asked Rick for help, a friend of his that understood he was doing something wrong and talked to me. And Rick, he... he just wanted to be a good friend. He didn’t understand. But Jason—he used Rick, manipulated him, got him to leave him drunk in front of your house, knowing that I would let him in because I am too fucking srupid and too fucking nice. He knew that you’d think I cheated on you. Knowing that you’d be hurt, that you'd doubt me, that it would rip us apart. He had everything planned. And I—I let it happen. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, until I saw the way you looked at me like I let you down like your ex. And I've never wanted that.

And now... now I’m standing here, soaked to the skin because I always forget to bring an umbrella with me and because I care about you, trying to find the right words, but there’s no easy way to explain this. No way to take back the pain I caused you. No way to undo what Jason did. But I need you to know this... I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone.

And I’m so fucking sorry for the mess I’ve made and for letting Jason ruin everything. I’m so sorry I didn’t see what Jason was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was losing you, that I was pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.

I love you more than I ever knew how to say. I love you more than anything. And I need you to know that, to believe that, because it’s the truth. You’re the only thing that matters to me and I miss you. And I miss Luna. And I miss the family we built. The three of us. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me... I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. But please, Noah, don’t let me lose you. Not like this. Not because of an asshole who thought he had power on someone else's love."

After you finished confessing, Noah looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern for a moment, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickered over your drenched form. "Why are you completely soaked?"

You couldn't help but smile softly, a little amusement tugging at the corner of your lips, despite the moment. "My car wouldn’t start," you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, almost as if it was a silly inconvenience. "So I walked."

Before you could say anything more, Noah’s expression softened even more, and without another word, he stepped forward in the rain. His lips found yours with a sudden intensity, and it was like everything else melted away. You smiled against his mouth, the taste of him so sweet, so right, that it felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

You had longed for the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his tongue dancing with yours, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around you for days.

His hair clung to his forehead as the rain soaked him through, and without thinking, you reached up to brush it aside, your fingers grazing the damp strands as you continued to kiss him, your hearts racing in sync. It was perfect. It was real. The kiss lingered, deepening, as if neither of you wanted it to end, until the air between you both ran out and you both pulled back, gasping for breath.

Noah’s hands were still on your hips, pushing you close to him.

His voice was low and vulnerable as he whispered against your lips, "I’ve dreamed of this moment for fifteen nights. I thought you hated me..I'm sorry I told you to leave. I was scared to lose you and so fucking jealous. I've never wanted you to leave. I love you.

I loved you from the first moment I walked into the café with Luna barely able to speak, when she raised her little hand to say hi. She didn't do it with anyone. But she did it with you. Maybe she also understood at that moment that you were going to be the most important person in both our lives."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth flooding back into your chest at the sound of his words. "I’ve walked in the rain for forty minutes for you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of certainty. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all."

He chuckled, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm blanket. God, you'd missed that sound so bad. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all either," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips, and then he kissed you again, softer this time, as if savoring every second, every drop of rain falling around you both.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[snailpebbles]

your fic about Chishiya was so good I feel like you captured his character perfectly 😩 will you write more about him? I can barely find any good writings about him and yours is truly so perfect 😔💓

Patchwork Love

pairing: Chishiya Shuntaro x gn!reader

summary: after being injured in a game, Chishiya drags you off and is somehow more silent than usual. What's his problem?

tags: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, they're both so stupid

warnings: descriptions of injuries including blood, non-sexual unwanted touch, emotional constipation, Chishiya cries lmao

a/n: hope you enjoy :) my writing is rusty lol but I love this trope

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Everything was going fine at first; you were on your own in a level three spades game, lightwork! It was a construction zone with many metal rails and walkways, and multiple wide pipes at the very top. The objective was simple - get to the top before the time runs out. At first it was that simple, that is until the freezing cold water began to pour in randomized sections. A game of strength and luck it seems. There were others from the Beach with you, so of course you figured you'd just team up and make sure no one slips. Wrong! To save their own asses just as the four of you were getting towards the top, they used your body as an easier to grip ladder. Not only did you feel violated, you also felt icy cold fear mixing with white hot rage. What the fuck? You pulled those three up so many times at the risk of drowning and for what?

The water pours down on you as they cheer from the top with just two minutes left, freezing and blinding you as you struggle to actually breathe. Two hands on one thin bar that's already trembling under your suspended weight. Fuck. Everything felt like a blur as you hauled your leg over another bar, using all your strength to not drown from the water rushing across you and to pull yourself onto the walkway. For a moment it seems like something had snapped, your leg overstretched and arms overexerted. You aren't built for this! Your life before consisted of studying and absolutely destroying kids on x-box! As you lay on the metal grating, water having ceased with a heaving chest, Chishiyas face flashes in your mind. Well fuck - you're realizing you like him at the worst possible time. With that motivation in mind alongside the need to deck those three in the balls, you force your aching body up the rest of those rails with ten seconds left on the clock.

The three boys are obviously shocked to see you alive and rush off, once again leaving you behind with no transportation back. Lovely.

You aren't quite sure how you managed to get back to Beach but by the time you do, the sun is beginning to rise. Damn, what if they vacated your room? The morning air is chilly and you know you have some sort of hypothermia if your chilled fingertips are anything to go by, not to mention the way your head is beginning to swim - pun intended.

As your torn up, shaking form stumbles through the gates past a few surprised militants and even more surprised party-goers, Kuina barrels towards you. She looks both put together and a mess, her eyes red rimmed and seeming to water - pun intended - as her warm hands cup your ice cold cheeks. She chokes up at this realization and ushers you inside, muttering something about Ann being a little busy with some project as she leads you two to a familiar door.

Chishiyas face, as calm as ever, cracks when Kuina barges in. He's up in an instant and wasting no time as apparently one look at you is enough to know what you need - or maybe he just knows you. A blanket is around your shoulders before you can blink and now you're on his bed, unfortunately not in the context you'd wish for now. Kuina runs off after Chishiya instructs her to get a whole load of things, but you honestly have no idea what because you're too busy staring at him. Chishiyas face is contorted in a way you've never seen before or at least haven't been the recipient of. His eyes are focused in solely on you, his brows furrowed and typical smirk gone in favor of a grimace. Most notable are his hands resting heavy on your shoulders as if you'd shrug the warm blanket off. Those hands you now realize match those in your dreams are surprisingly warm and unsurprisingly steady - Chishiya was a little less smart than you thought if he didn't know by now that you knew of his profession. The idea of him in a doctors coat distracts you as he gets up from where he was crouched in front of you, reappearing with bandages and disinfectant.

"So..how'd your game go?" You break the awkward silence and feel your cheeks warm at how scratchy your voice is. Must've been the borderline constant drowning. His sharp gaze makes you almost flinch with the weight in it, your own eyes dropping back to your lap. Of course he doesn't respond, only making some vaguely disapproving noises as those eyes scan your wounds. His silence begins to piss you off, that rage from earlier being misdirected at him. Seriously, you almost died in a frankly horrific way and this is all he has to give?

"I can patch myself up. I'm not helpless." The tension rises, twisting uncomfortably in your gut as Chishiya stays in place while you glare at him. With a huff as he refuses to speak, you get up on weak legs. This seems to snap him out of it as he grabs your hips - and just at the right time. Your legs give way as the exhaustion hits all at once to only fuel that anger, a frustrated sound coming from you as Chishiya tuts disapprovingly again.

"Stay still. You're hurt and too tired to move." His voice is rough and annoyingly calm. Is he allergic to worrying? You obey though as he unravels the bandages and uncaps the disinfectant, steeling yourself for the following pain.

The blond has the grace to look at least a little apologetic at every wince and soft cry your battered form gives, even letting you hold onto either his shoulders or jacket. The cuts, scraps, bruises, and blood staining your body worry him even if he doesn't show it. Images begin flashing in his mind of internal bleeding, broken ribs, torn muscles-

"Are you..crying?" Your soft voice breaks the less tense silence, your own tears having dried up some time ago. Chishiya pales as he becomes aware of the liquid dripping down his cheeks and hastily wipes them away, refusing to meet your gaze or lift his head.

"No." He replies shortly, heart picking up its pace as he realizes he has to patch your torn hands. You follow his gaze and readily hold both hands out, skin raw and bleeding still. He winces internally at the sight of your beautiful hands so heavily marred.

Warmth spreads through you as he takes your hand in his non-dominant one to carefully disinfect it, whispering apologies as you hold back cries of pain. Somehow you aren't too shocked by this display of care, an inner part of you having sensed something was different by the lingering looks and the way he is always there. Chishiya wraps your hand with a gentleness you weren't sure he possessed, repeating the process with your other hand until every wound is patched up. Not a word was properly shared, your eyes rarely met, and you didn't comment again on the occasional slip of tears you caught.

"Go change in the bathroom." He mutters after passing you actual clothes, aka his own sweatpants and a t shirt. Once you step back out of the bathroom - definitely not after taking a moment to admire yourself in his clothes - Chishiya does just what you definitely didn't. The admiration is well hidden yet you catch it in the way he turns his head slightly to the left and steps back, as if you're a danger.

"These are really comfy, thanks." An appreciative smile brightens your face and threatens to blind him, so he sits down where you were moments earlier. You take a seat beside him and try to hide your steadily growing flustered state when that damn white jacket is placed around your shoulders. He says nothing so neither do you, the silence now companionable even as sparks burn its edges.

"What happened." It's not a question and you know that, just as you know what happened isn't your fault. The tears, anger and irrational shame, prick your eyes anyways. He doesn't comment, he only takes your pinkie with his.

After a deep inhale and calming exhale, you speak. "It was an easy spades game and I teamed up with three guys from here, but towards the end they just.." You choke up momentarily, but with the way his hand moves to rub your forearm, you know you'll get it out.

"They knocked me down so I was hanging and used me like a fucked up bridge- their hands were everywhere and I know it was for survival only but it was so..so dehumanizing." The words come out softer and softer until you aren't even sure Chishiya can hear, but he does. He only ever listens for you. His face is as calm as ever as you cry, arm light as it wraps around your shoulder to bring you into the only safe haven you have in this fucked up place.

Time passes, you aren't sure how much but you are sure you've dozed off, yet Chishiya hasn't moved once. He holds you close and his fingers still rub circles on your shoulder, mindful of a bruise there as he's memorized your injuries. There's some snacks and another blanket on the small dresser, presumably brought by Kuina.

Chishiya knows you've slipped into that numb state, so he doesn't mind helping you eat some crackers and drink that tea you're so obsessed with. He doesn't mind keeping you right there, right where he can protect you and you can rest; where you can heal yourself. What he does mind is you deciding to break out of this numbness by pestering him.

"You cried." You whisper, poking his chest lightly as his arms tenses around you. For a moment you fear you may have misjudged the air and his actions, envy flooding - pun unintended - through you at the idea that maybe all his patients get such treatment. His answer calms your thoughts.

"Yes, you could say I was..worried. Don't do that again." His warm breath brushes across the top of your head and a faint smile tugs at your lips from the slight roughness to his typically smooth voice. Your head props up on his chest so you can see him and he can't resist looking down at you. His eyebrow raises in a silent question that has you grin, that familiar smirk returning.

"If it gets me this treatment.."

"No."

"Worth a shot."

"..You don't need to be hurt to get my attention." The one-sided banters comes to a halt as your eyes widen, staring at his ever calm face like he hand painted the stars for you. If he could, he would.

With a slight grunt you manage to sit up a little better, worry flickering over Chishiyas face at your show of pain. Damn you could get used to this. Words aren't his thing so what better communication than action? Even with bandages, your hands ever so carefully cup his jaw, moving slowly incase he doesn't want this.

Chishiya really fucking wants this. With the way you're being so gentle, so considerate, when others in his life haven't almost keels him over. But you're injured, mentally and physically, so slow and steady will win this race. The kiss is soft and unhurried, as if there isn't an invisible timer looming over your heads. Time is irrelevant when he whispers your name oh so quietly and his hand oh so carefully caresses your matching tear stained cheek. With every touch, every shared breath, the previous hands are washed away for now. They'll haunt you at night but Chishiya will be there to wipe them away, whether that be with affection or simply being there as you get a snack to soothe your brain.

You know why he cried, why he looked so worried, why it's his clothes you're wearing, and why Kuina said Ann was busy when you actually passed by her lounging in the hall. He loves and he cares, the same as you. It only took almost losing you to realize it.

As you separate slowly and lay down, drawn together as if magnets, you drift off. Chishiya waits patiently as your breath evens out before slipping away.

It's the next morning when you wake up alone in the cold bed, insecure heartbreak seeping in until Chishiya quietly walks into the room, not hesitating with the gentle squeeze to your shoulder and kiss to your head. No words are exchanged when you settle in the chair next to him by his desk, watching him build who knows what as you munch away on those snacks. His ankle his hooked with yours and that is all that matters - you can ignore the split knuckles and prideful hint to his face because he's yours, and you're his.

[gpcwsl]

Hey! Could you maybe write something for Lia Wälti where r has a reputation as a fuckboy/womanizer since they have quite a few one-night stands that never lead to anything more. They always get teased by the team for that. R and Lia are close friends and always very close physically: cuddling on the couch, sleeping in the same bed during sleepovers, Lia sitting on r's lap etc. One night they are watching a movie or smth on the couch and Lia straight up asks r why they have never tried anything with her. R tells her it is because they don't want her to leave, and then explains that basically all anyone ever wanted from them was sex, and no one stuck around after they had that, that's why now r just sticks to casual hook-ups if anyone approches them, and never actually initiates that stuff first. And they don't care about some stranger leaving in the morning, but they do like Lia a lot, and her leaving would really hurt, so they never acted on their feelings. And then a fluffy confession from Lia's side? Sorry this is really long, you absolutly don't have to do it if you're not comfortable with it!

Warnings: swearing, short, suggestive, mentions of sex (brief) mentions of fuck-boy, mentions of one night stands, kissing, making out.

Lia Wälti x Reader

You’re Different, and I don’t know why.

MasterList

Relationship’s aren’t your thing. You think they are underrated, love is underrated. You were taught that way while growing up. Sure, maybe the reason why is because you never knew your dad since he left the minute your mum got pregnant - ever since then your mother had taught you to never fall in love. So you took that advise. Never been in a relationship before, but definitely slept with half the girls in your hometown.

You always did a really good job with trying to not let those one night stands get in the way of football. Ending things with the girl as soon as the sunrise starts to shine awake. Cutting off any excess to phone number, instagram, ext.

Two years ago, you left your hometown. With getting a bigger contact with a new team who has been pushing for you for some time now - Arsenal. You decided to step up your game. Even win more trophies. Leaving was easy. You had no relationship with any family member, then not fearing enough to even say goodbye either.

But, ever since joining Arsenal things have been different. Different as in, not that many one night stand - and that’s because of a girl. A girl. Breaking a promise to your mother, you seem to be drawn into this woman. You so badly wanted to push her away, but you can’t seem to have the courage to. Which was weird. You always had courage to do anything. You never felt any sort of guilt of even thinking of doing anything like that.

She was driving you crazing.

Right now, it’s after training. Everyone is all gathered in the changing rooms. Getting into their own clothes they walked in this morning. You sitting down in the bench, tying your lases on your trainers.

Kyra, with the same old smirk on her face, sits down next to you, nudging your shoulder. “Y/l/n, you been with cute ladies lately?”

You roll your eyes, now knowing everyone is now focused on you. “No.”

Kyra raises an eyebrow, looking around the room before speaking. “Really? Cause if I remember what miss McCabe said to me the other day was - on your first day with the team you tried to get with everyone.”

You look up, immediately making eye contact with Katie who immediately moves behind her girlfriend. “I didn’t say tha-“

You roll my eyes again, before shrugging my shoulders. “Okay, sure but I didn’t try to get with them. Just flirted before I didn’t anymore.”

“That’s true, she hasn’t flirted with us ever since then.” Leah confirms, nodding her head.

“Why did you stop?” Kyra asks. Your eyes shifted to Lia, who was looking at you, smiling softly knowing the answer. “No reason.”

You then stand up from the bench. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m going home. Why don’t you nag to Alessia to who she kissed at last nights party.”

“What?!” - “For fuck sake, Y/n/n!”

With all the attention to Alessia. You look for Lia who is still looking at me. You nod my head for her to follow me. She easily sneaks past everyone who is still pestering Alessia.

As soon as you walk out the door; when you see Lia, you quickly grab her arm pulling her into a storage room. She lets out a yelp as you push her in. You quickly shut the door, locking it.

You turn around to see Lia smiling widely at you. Her hands on her hips. “Seriously? This is so high-school relationship material. Sneaking into the storage room?”

You shrug, smiling at her. “Can’t help myself. Haven’t kissed you for hours.” You mumble, taking only a small step forward to wrap your hands around her waist.

“Is that so?” Lia whispered, immediately wrapping her arms around your neck. “Well, we should do something about that, hey?”

You nod your head, pulling her closer to kiss her. The kiss was soft. Very different to other kisses you had with other girls.

You smile into the kiss - again, different to other girls that you never smiled while kissing before.

Lia change your life straight away.

First day at Arsenal. Kyra was right. You flirted with everyone - but as soon as your eyes founded Lia’s body you stopped. All your attention was on her and her only.

Lia pull away from the kiss. “Let me ask you something.” She says, looking up at you. - You nod your head, hands rubbing against her hips.

“Why haven’t you tried anything with me?”

You burrow your eyebrows, looking at her. “What you mean?”

“Like you were at your hometown. You choked up with every girl you found hot - and obviously you found me hot but, you didn’t try anything. You didn’t even flirt with me like you did with the others.” Lia rambled, her eyes staying in yours the whole time.

“Dunno. You’re different, and I don’t know why. I definitely thought about it but then hated myself. I could never do that to you.” You answered honestly.

“But, I’m not. I promise.” You state, holding her hands. Lia smiles, rubbing her thumb along your hand. “I know. I can tell how much you care about me. Just wanted to know.”

Lia then pulls you back into a kiss. You instantly kiss back, again smiling. “Let’s go home… I got something planned.” Lia mumbles, smirking.

“Oh yeah?” You mumble back, pulling away to see her smirk, smirking back. “What?”

“It’s a surprise.” Lia whispers, unlocking the door and pulling it open. Once the cost was clear she grabs your hand, pulling you with her to the exit.

You never been more grateful that you left your hometown to London.

[jackiepackiee]

Telemachus SFW Alphabet

an- some are way longer than others, but I didn’t have ideas for some… sorry!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Being a prince, Telemachus has an important image to hold. Especially with the suitors around, he wants to be seen as strong. So he keeps the affection in closed doors. There are a lot of ways this could go.

With the suitors on a normal day he will simply walk with you. Knowing it’s best to just stay normal for avoid any comments.

If (and when) the suitors get snappy or make comments he’ll hold your hand to quickly pull you out of the situation. He’d fight, but his top priority is you being away from danger

So if it’s just you two, in his room, he’ll do very comforting acts of affection. Back rubs, playing with your hair, forehead kisses, holding your hand and rubbing your hand with his thumb. Sure, he’s a soft guy, but he’s a prince who likes feel like he’s protecting you.

Now, when Odysseus gets back he’s much more affectionate. Seeing how his dad treats his mom, he does the same for you. Like a mini Odysseus, copying all the loving things he does for his wife.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Lots of sneaking around and sharing secrets like kids. He would be the most supportive person you’ve ever met, lending you a hand in every way possible for all you want.

He’d love to train near you, he’d never want to spar or anything of the like in fear of hurting you. But you’d both spend afternoons in the courtyard with you petting his dog and him swinging his sword at a dummy you built of cloth and wool.

Your friendship could’ve started a multitude of a ways, he’d a kind person so it’s unlikely he’d turn down any genuine offers of friendship.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Certified lover boy is a fan of cuddling. His favorite being these three

He loves the “honeymoon hug” your face in his chest or his in yours. He loves being able to hear your heartbeat and know you’re with him. When you’re in his chest he’s as ease knowing you’re safe from the world around you

The “half spoon” is a close second, both for when you’re lazy after a long day and unable to energize yourself for more than simple conversation. Your calmest moments are spent here

When he’s in your lap he feels the world melt around him and is surrounded by you. When you’re in his lap he plays with your hair. Either way, in this position he’ll talk for hours about anything you want. Smiling at your with a lovestruck expression

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You “dating” is you courting and it’s practically guaranteed your marriage will follow. He’s a royal, and it’s expected of him to be married. It’s not that he doesn’t want that though! He’s very excited to get married, even offering to send ships to fetch the best seamstresses to make your wedding attire

But… your marriage will wait until Odysseus returns. He can’t imagine such a large part of his life without his father, and he wants him to meet you. Knowing his family is complete is all he wants.

As for cooking and cleaning? Don’t worry, he has servants and your hand and foot if you so wish for them to do anything. He’s not a great cook…

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

…that’s not happening. Just like his dad he is loyal until death, and he’d escape the underworld to see you again if he had to

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

You’re both getting married, and you’ll become apart of Ithaca’s royal family like I said before, it’s going to wait until Odysseus is back so he can witness your marriage.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically he touches you as if you’ll break. Only a few times he’s truly used his strength. The first time he truly touched you was when his dad returned. He was so overwhelmed from both you being safe and him family being complete that he practically lunged at you in a hug. Other than that, it’s soft pats and gentle hand holding

Emotionally he has a gentle soul. Despite being a fierce and dangerous warrior of Athena, he is always looking for the good in the world. And he sees the good in your heart. His first priority is your wellbeing, so he’ll do anything to make you happy. No yelling at disagreements, no overly rude teasing, only compliments and soft comments when you get embarrassed at kisses

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

One of his favorite things to do is hug, it serves two purposes in your relationship

Either he feels at ease knowing you’re in his arms, he’s keeping you safe and the world around you won’t reach you as long as he’s around

Or he just needs a minute to rest and you’re a sanctuary for him. Giving him the affection he so desperately needs

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Two months into the relationship is when he says I love you

It’s no heated and crazy confession, but instead a cute and shy one that he plans. Secret is he’s loved you from the beginning, but he hasn’t been able to express it

He gives you an apple (a sign of love to do with Aphrodite) and stammers out the three words, looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s not that jealous, but it not impossible for him to be. While he may be shy, he’s doesn’t doubt you love and knows you’re loyal to him so he doesn’t worry

Although, if another prince tries to woo you, he gets mildly frustrated. In this case he’ll tell them to leave his kingdom, and that you’ve already taken your home with him

He wouldn’t fight the princes he gets jealous of, that would be stupid and reckless. Instead he proves to them you aren’t leaving by passive aggressive words (Athena taught him)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are like the touch of sun when it meets the mountains of Ithaca in the early morning. Soft, gentle, and full of love

His favorite places to kiss you are your forehead, cheek, and the crown of your head since it’s very affectionate

His favorite places to be kissed are his lips, knuckles, and shoulders. He’s very ticklish so if you kiss him anywhere below his jaw he’ll giggle

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing him around kids makes you want children so so badly. With babies he’ll hold them in his arms, always sitting so he doesn’t risk dropping them. His cooing is adorable, always him and the baby giggling at the infants meaningless babble

With older children he’s playful, and it’s not crazy for when you two visit the market for him to be swarmed by 8 year olds who climb him like a tower

He has the cutest smile around kids, and he would be an amazing father (it’s all he wants)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s a morning person, always waking before you. Half mornings you’ll wake up to him staring at you with this sickeningly lovestruck smile. He’ll nuzzle his cold nose into your neck and laugh when you whine at him for 5 more minutes

Sometimes though, after your late night sneak outs when you sleep in, Penelope and Odysseus will come in early just to see their son and his lover so peaceful. Smiling as proud parents (if Telemachus knew this the blush on his face would be permanent)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Lazy cuddling, with you in his arms while he dotes on you. You kissing his bruises he got from training in days prior while he is too tired to blush so he just embraces your love

He likes to let the moonlight into his room so he can still see your face in the dark night right before he falls asleep

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

A bit sad but one night everything just kind of comes out. He’s upset and looks to you for comfort, spilling all his heartbreak to you. This isn’t a time thing, but rather based on what happens in the events of the day. He trusts you with his life when you get together, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked for your hand in the first place. But his true feelings are like a tidal wave

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

With you? He’s only gotten slightly frustrated with you a handful of times. A few grumbled sentences before he sees your upset (sad or mad) expression and hated it so much he all together lost his aggravation and apologized

In general he’s docile, not wanting to start anything with anyone for no reason. But as we see with the suitors, he doesn’t take rudeness lightly and is willing to fight back, just not with you

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

Everything you mention about yourself he remembers

Every reaction you have, such as a slightly disgusted face at a food or a smile at a certain compliment, he remembers

Every piece of advice he gets about you from his mother, Athena, and eventually his father, he remembers

He is whipped for you, and wants to know any and everything there is to know about you

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

A bit NSFW… (he’s 20, it’s okay 🫡)

After your first time together (and his in general) when you’re sleeping against his chest. He can feel everything, your soft skin on his, gentle lips still ghosting over his in memory, breaths leaving and igniting in your chest.

He never felt more in love, knowing he could trust you completely and you’re both each other’s everything

Seeing you be so vulnerable with him, trusting him, leaves his heart running fast

Not his favorite for physical, selfish reasons. But instead his favorite because he knew in that moment you’re there and forever will be

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

When the suitors are still in his home he is incredibly protective. Now he’s no idiot, and knows fighting the suitors for you isn’t ideal. He’d hate to see you upset at him being hurt, and no way he’d win in a fist fight against a group of grown men. So his protection is more planned out. Sneaking you around, never letting you around without him or a guard. Of course you’re free to do as you please. But he’s nervous

If it came to it though? Be it a threat to you, a comment on your honor, or someone gets too close he will fight. With his anger he’ll have a fighting chance

When Odysseus is home he’s much more calm. Knowing he and his father will care for you. (Odysseus is willing to kill for you, you’re part of the family now and anyone his son cares for he cares for)

He’ll still make sure you’re in someone’s protection though

As for himself? He just tells you not to worry… he wants to be able to get strong and needs to experience danger to grow

Though if you pet his hair after a fight, praising him for his effort? He’s melting like putty in your hand

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He will buy ANYTHING you want, spend as much time with you as possible

Dates consist of sneaking out of the palace to the gardens to pluck flowers and fresh fruit or mountains to watch the waves hug the shore. You’ll share soft kisses. You go on dates at night, liking the solidarity. Little do you know Penelope and Odysseus are always watching and smiling at their son so in love…

On anniversaries he’ll take you sailing, walk you through your soon to be kingdom, and finish the night off with a gift. It’s always something insanely expensive, and he just shrugs

“Expensive? Don’t worry about the price, it’s for you!”

He’s royalty, he has sheep to bargain and gold to trade for the finest luxury for you, so what if he’s a little oblivious to the material world?

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Idealism - Telemachus tries to see the best in every situation, and it can be hard for him to know what is realistic. Especially going into being king, he needs to learn how to be realistic and not stuck in fantasy

Anxiety - He’s overly protective of you, suitors there or dead. It doesn’t matter, even since he’s known such a great threat he doesn’t let the people close to him near anyone he doesn’t trust

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not too concerned with his appearance in terms of vanity. He wants to look clean, and he is. Being a prince he’s usually dressed nicely, with gold pieces adorning him. But he doesn’t put effort into his “handsome,” as Penelope calls it, face or anything of the sort. He focuses on being strong and naturally gains a lean and muscular build

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

110%, Tele is very family oriented and you’re his family now. He spent a lifetime without his father, and everyone he holds in his heart can’t leave like that again or he’ll break. The longest he can take is a few weeks when he has to leave the island for royal issues

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’s adored music ever since he was kid. Singing, instruments, anything to do with art. But he can’t for the life of him play the lyre. If the string wasn’t so tough Penelope swears the lyre would’ve snapped when a young Telemachus tried to strum a tune

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Disloyalty - He’s not asking for blood sweat and tears, all he wants is one person to stay by his side of the rest of his life. He’ll never get with someone who betrays someone without good reason, even if it was just a friend or acquaintance. Loyalty is important to him!

Apathy - He believes every person should feel strongly for something. After all, it’s love that pushed his father to survive and his admiration of his father/protection of his mother that made him want to be a hero. He couldn’t be with someone who didn’t care about at least a few things strongly

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

It’s a bit different depending on the situation. In most cases it’s you two cuddling with his dog at the foot of your bed

Suitors (normal day) he’ll sleep lightly. Chest rising with a steady rhythm that puts you to sleep in minutes. He wakes up in the middle of the night at least twice a week. He’ll check over the room to see everything is fine before he drifts off again

Suitors (after a fight) he’ll be on edge. Coddling you as if to reassure himself you’re okay. Sometimes he’ll leave you for a few minutes to check his mother’s room to see if she’s okay. On the worst nights, after a scary interaction, you’ll both go to Penelope’s room. Her petting your heads until you both drift off

Without his dad he spends some nights awake. You in his arms, or without, he’ll stare at the ceiling and just think. Think about any and everything to do with his life and the lives of those around him. It’s best you stay asleep, he finds comfort in sleeping you so peaceful

After Odysseus returns this poor boy sleeps like a rock. Arms cradling you as if he’s awake while in reality the gods themselves could shake the earth and he’d be less the wiser. No snoring, only soft breaths and cute little mumbles when he first falls asleep. In the morning he’ll recount all his wild dreams to you in detail.

[midnight-mourning]

Birds of a Feather

Bit of writing for @divinit3a's cafe prompts! A little one shot set in @crystalmagpie447's winged dca au. Be sure to check both of them, the prompts, and the au out!

That all being said, enjoyed making this, hope you enjoy reading it ^^

Word Count: 1795

Chosen Words: feathers, flight, clouds, hope, restart

"Thank you for visiting Superstar Daycare! We hope you have a Faztastic rest of your day!" Sun says, shutting the door with a sigh.

You glance up from organizing the drawings from today, seeing he's slouched back against the door, defeated. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. You're almost tempted to go back to your work without another word so to let him keep up his perceived joyous attitude. But, you desire to be a better friend than that. 

Even if he doesn't want you to be. 

You sort another work of art into the pile for next week's feature pieces. "Long day, huh?"

"Oh, not at all, Sunshine!" You hear his rays spin, and peeking up again his posture is ramrod straight again. "Today was wonderful, just like all the others before it! And before that, and before that, and before that..." Back to that chipper tone, as you had expected, but it never hurt to try. 

Something you don't think Sun realized—likely due to not being created with them initially—is that wing's display an array of emotions as much as any other part of one's body language. When nervous, they quiver and flick and shrink in much like his own rays. When happy, they're bursting with life, shifting not dissimilarly to one's own arms. And when angry, well, you think he might have realized that one. 

Whenever you pressed him too hard, asked too many questions, showed too much care, they would puff up, feathers stifled and quick in their movements. 

You never told him these things, which may make you not so good a friend, but you knew if you let him in on the mannerisms he displayed, he'd do everything he could to stop them. 'Correct' them. You know, because when you'd commented on how his rays spun when he got excited, he was down in Parts and Services all but demanding them to fix his problem. Or at least, his concept of a problem. 

So instead, you let out a quiet laugh. "I'm always here to talk, but if you say so, I'll leave it lie."

"Good. Glad that's settled."

With that, he takes a few quick strides over to the craft tables and begins cleaning them up. You sigh, but let it go. It's not your business after all, that much had been made clear to you. 

As clean up goes along—quiet, save for small talk between the two of you, friendly, but nothing more—your thoughts go back to the Attendant once more. Specifically, his wings. 

Always constantly using them, the both of them. You think that despite having them before you arrived even, they were still in a way a new and exciting feature for the two animatronics. Seeing even the smallest of reasons to exercise them. Be it to flit about the room just a little quicker, play with the children, or to do a survey of the daycare—or the entire Plex in Moon's case—just a quick flap of their wings, and it was possible.

You suppose it's something that can't be helped. Though only every so often, in times like this, where you feel just a little more isolated than usual. A little more lonely. That feeling is what had drawn you here in the first place, in a way. Besides the need for a paying job that is. 

A chance for a restart, a fresh start even. When you first saw the Daycare, realized what a, solo existence, the two attendants had, it had gripped at you. Gripped at a particular part of your own being that you recognized. Despite having wings themselves, they're story was similar to yours. Outcasted from society and those around them for things outside their control. 

An inability to take flight, versus an inability to fly elsewhere. Trapped, in every sense of word. The only difference being the cage in use. 

"Penny for your thoughts, Dragonfly?"

You glance up, seeing Moon perched on the piece of the playset above you. You liked to come up here and sit sometimes, sit anywhere up high, just to get a taste for what could have been. 

You'd accepted long ago the way things were, and for the most part it wouldn't haunt you. It wasn't your fault, wasn't something in your control. It just was. There were plenty of others like you, even, and they held no shame, so neither would you. 

But that didn't control the longing that would ensnare you from time to time. 

Back in the present, you scoff at the lunar animatronic. "Knowing you you'd take more than just a penny from me. Probably my entire wallet if you could get by with it, yeah?"

"Perhaps." Moon snickers, faceplate spinning. "You'll never know until you try though."

You laugh, then shake your head. "Figured as much. Hard pass, Moon-man."

"Hm. Care to just share what's on your mind then?" He reaches over and above you to the opposite edge of the playset, essentially laying horizontal above you, gaze focused down on you. "Free of charge."

You consider the offer a moment, then mimic his pose, going from lean back, to laying back perpendicular to him, face covered in the glow of his red eyes. 

"You think it's silly to want something you can't have? That'll always be out of your reach and never within? Something you'll always have on the back of your mind, no matter how hard you try to live your life free of even a thought about it?"

Moon tilts his head. "What a loaded series of questions. I'm a jester, not a sage, you know." He chuckles, and usually you'd join in, maybe roll your eyes or the likes, but your heart's not in it. 

It's something he picks up on immediately, wings behind him fluttering just a tad. But even in the darkness you catch it. 

He puts a hand under his chin in thought. "Well, I suppose if you'd really want to get into it, yes."

You wait. 

Nothing else. 

"What?" He asks. 

You shrug. "Thought you'd share a bit more as to what. You know, be relatable and all that."

Moon chuckles, it takes on a more sinister edge at the end. 

"Not quite. But I'll listen to your plights if you'd like, Nightingale."

"Sometimes, more than anything, I wish I could fly." Your hands fold across your chest. "It's a silly endeavor, I know. But I still want it sometimes."

He must not have been expecting that, eyes widening just a tad. He asks a question you weren't anticipating. "Have you ever been?"

"A few times, when I was small. With my parents. They'd hold me below them and I'd pretend to be gliding all on my own." You close your eyes at the memories, filled with shrieks of laughter and childish glee. You think if they'd known that would be your only time up in the sky, they'd have taken you more often. 

"What was it like?"

You open your eyes. Looking above you to the former naptime attendant turned security bot. His words were soft, holding a tender curiosity you wouldn't have expected.

You furrow your brow. "What do you mean? You know what flying is like."

"The sky." He rasps, and it clicks. All but confirming one of your deepest beliefs then and there. 

You swallow, hiding the utter elation such information gives you, that hope for connection no longer so out of reach. You give it your best shot to provide an accurate, detailed, description. 

"It's colder than you think it would be. When you get high up. But the sun's warmth usually helps with that. The wind feels lovely on your feathers though." Your hand reaches out above you for a moment. "And the clouds, they're wet. Or well, damp. It was quite a shock the first time my dad dragged me through one." 

"What were you expecting?" Moon hums. 

You chuckle. "I don't know, cotton candy, or pillow fluff, or something like that. I was only like four." Your hand drops back down. "It was a long time ago."

Moon stays quiet. You continue. 

"And my first night flight. What a time. You always think if you could a little higher you'll reach the stars. Or at least that's what I thought, begging my mom to just 'go a little higher, just a little more'. She didn't always oblige me, but when she did, god, the buildings, the cities, the world, all of it felt so small." You shake your head. "And quiet. So, so quiet."

"Was that it then? The last time you were up there?" 

Another head shake. "No. I think I was maybe seven or eight before I got too heavy to lug around." 

Silence again, you think to look up to him again, gaze having become unfocused in your reminiscing. 

He's also somewhere else it seems, faceplate twisting back and forth, optics just a tinge dim. He comes out of it when he notices your stare. 

"I'll take you sometime." He states, nodding once.

"What?"

Another nod. "Into the sky. I'll take you there. You hardly weigh a thing to me."

"First of all, rude. Second of all... why?" You're a bit in disbelief. 

He shrugs. "Why not?"

Moon sits up then, back to his original position and you do the same. 

"Because that's a big thing to offer!" 

"Not offer." He pokes your forehead, eyes crinkling. "Promise."

You bluster. "Even worse!" 

You don't get to pester him further about it, as he flips back over the edge of the playset, landing right as the lights come back on. Sun looks up to you as you peer over the edge of the playset. He tilts his head at you. 

"What's with that look, Busybee?"

"I'm gonna get you out of here one day." You blurt. 

He freezes. "What?"

"I, if, if you want, I mean." You fumble to recover. "If you ever decide you want to leave. If you ever want to get out just for a moment, I'll help you. I promise."

Sun's rays twist, otherwise motionless, even as you take the nearest slide and walk over to him. 

Worried, you reach out for him. "Sun—"

Springing to life again, acting as if nothing happened. "So sorry, Sunshine! It seems I had a bit of a lapse there, won't happen again!"

"Oh. Gotcha. Okay." You turn around to get back to work, your short break now over, when his hand rests on your shoulder. 

You look up, Sun's eyes crinkle as his rays spin. 

"I hope one day I'll be able to take you up on that promise, and return it in kind."

You smile lightly, and nod. "Yeah. Me too."

And there we go! Hope i did the prompt and the au justice! Both were fun to work with. Excited to share more art and writing as the month goes on hehe

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[taldigi]

what are your yu headcanons? i’m curious — i love hearing ppl’s interpretations of the persona mcs!!

Sure! I think about him too much, anyway.

Loves his family more than anything. His friends are his family, too.

Autism man 1000 years strong

Oral fixation. It was almost eliminated but it came back full force due to the stress of the investigation. RIP his pencils. Chews his (disposable) chopsticks to splinters.

Didn't know any origami until moving to Inaba. Makes cranes when anxious or bored. Learns more types over time. It's become a telltale sign that Yu's been in the area when you see origami stars or cranes littering the area.

Gay. i know canonically he's not/is at least bisexual but idk- Atlus has a good track record of of their "MC can't be too interested in a single girl lest we invalidate a player's chosen girl" that just comes off as them being not interested at all.

Is actually pretty genuine about liking things like fishing and cooking (sometimes i've seen people interpreting these hobbies like they're a means to an end). He knows many recipes by heart.

He knows the recipe for LeBlanc's curry. He thinks he dreamt it up because he remembers Ren telling him about it during PQ2.

He thinks the Yasogami uniforms are really cool and likes how they feel, too.

Is really good with kids. He has has two social links with kids and one with a mom and her kid. That, plus he's pretty welcome doing a daycare gig as a boy- which is typically a pretty unwelcoming field for guys.

Tries his best to see the best in people. Adachi fucked that up a bit for him tho.

His arena title actually hurt his feelings a lot more than he lets on.

Incredible patience developed from years of neglect as a kid. This is not always a good thing. Sometimes (outside of extreme circumstances) he needs to be reminded that he's allowed to be mad or frustrated.

Stone faced and calm for similar reasons. Was scolded pretty harshly a few times for emotional outbusts as a child- emoting too much stresses him out since there's the fear of being admonished (even though he's too old to be scolded.)

He's a chronic people pleaser and it's caused him trouble more than once.

That being said, he doesn't shy away from being blunt.

Struggles to ask for his own needs to be met.

He cannot sleep until after midnight on rainy days. Even when away from Inaba. He's tried, even with medication.

He may have the braincells of the group, but one of those braincells is Yosuke. Yosuke is also 40% of his emotional control.

All of his friends are special to him, but when it comes to anything: he reaches to Yosuke first. He trusts him enough to follow him to hell. Psychic partner connection.

Teddie is his unproblematic fave. He is President of the Teddie fanclub. Blorbo.

Has wondered if Izanagi is his "true" persona, or if it was forced onto him by Izanami. He is also a little self-conscious about never having a shadow.

there's something gender about him.

Hates being alone, living alone even moreso.

Not particularly fond of lying. Not that he'll blurt truths or anything comical like that, but deceptive behavior is the quickest way to push his buttons.

Cats cats cats. If Neko Atsume was a personality trait.

Not picky about food. Will even eat stuff that shouldn't be food. Neglect side effect. He never grows out of it. Would absolutely drink the water in tartarus.

Nervous about a post-fog TV world, but warms up to it after Teddie ushers the team to visit. After confronting Adachi, he never visits alone again: but it's a pretty great spot to escape to. Good picnic spot (not that Inaba is lacking in them)

(future Headcanons)

He uses his TV world glasses as an emotional comfort item, even though he doesn't need them.

He learns that he's not super fond of the city, and once he gets his driver's license after college: he never spends more than a day or weekend trip in big cities.

I imagine him as a college dropout. Instead, he opts to get various licenses. This disappoints his parents and they have a fallout about it.

Grey rocked his parents.

Works on call for the shadow operatives. He also watches over the TV world with the rest of the IT and offers regular reports to them. The benefits are generous, too.

His Wildcard ability eventually erodes over time as he doesn't really gain access to the Velvet Room's functions again. Most of the alternate personas he has sort of... fuse back down into Izanagi (which is why, in the sequels, he doesn't really utilize multiple personas)

As said before, he thinks the Yaso uniforms are cool as hell and is almost crushed when he can't fit in his old one. Kanji makes him a sort of lookalike/inspired jacket as a gift and it's his favorite jacket of all time.

Reaches out to Namatame, and actually keeps him pretty informed on TV world stuff. I like to think they have coffee sometimes.

(Izanagi)

makes deep grumbly noises with sharp metalic sounds. Think like.. pokemon's Bastiodon or Aegislash.

Looks and acts stoic, but as he's technically Yu's shadow, he's a little weepy & cries easily.

Gets lonely easily.

this is a really silly one, but: You can give Izanagi a little treat by feeding him batteries.

thats all I can think of for now.

[cryptid-killjoy]

"Cool, we're the pineapple under the sea crew if Iorek's in."

Normal chatter until Livvy came up. There was Figaro looking on the bright though.

"True. She's not dead. At least I'm not mourning her legendary pirate soul." He started to grin at the simple act of calling her a pirate recalling how she got her name to begin with. It was so silly. How could he not smile? Then it fell. "Pretty sure she wouldn't want to see me if we did bump into each other." Then it started to grow again. "But watching her attempt to ignore, act cool, or act audacious, whichever would be cute either way." He chuckled at the thought wondering where her instinct would take her.

As for missing the randomness of people in society for these two social creatures Will was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, exactly. That's exactly what I mean. We need chile, Smalls. I'm more used to life being a chilli cook off actually. Not just Skyline versus Goldstar, but a god damn county fair cook off any day I feel like not being in the walls. You hit the nail on the head there. Some days I even want a Chilli Dog."

Nothing got his smile to spread more than the mention of Hansel. His time in the walls was special to him. But, oh the phrasing, in the closet. He laughed out loud. "Don't crush me with ideas, Smalls. Hansel's a handsome guy." Willem would hardly be ashamed to admit he got off with a couple girls more on the idea Hansel might have been peeking through the secret wall holes and believing he was giving him a show than the thought of the girls he was with. He never said these sorts of thoughts out loud though. Hansel was probably that best friend secret soft-crush he'd never move on because A. dude was straight, and B. he'd never want to hurt Funkytown if something went wrong even if he wasn't straight. He started to realize flirting with Diana too much started to be an issue. He never wanted to hurt a doll in any way. Either way he sure didn't mind giving Hansel a show and enjoyed it.

When they got out of the bus it was hard not to notice the amount of corpse debris strewn about. He flared his nostrils on first foul breath. He put the back of his wrist up to his nose. "You might want to wear that around your neck. Damn." His brows furrowed as his face cringed unable to stop inhaling in the pungent odor due to need for breathing. He'd smelled worse, especially in the beginning, but he still wasn't used to it no matter how long he'd lived in Feral.

All he could even think to say about Quarantine was, "That's Feral for ya." It was hardly shocking even if his nose still disliked it.

Another big smile spread when he saw Figaro with a rather large weapon. "Hell yeah. That's what I'm talking 'bout. Dear Davey Jones. You look so... kick ass."

The best part of Bastien and his hoarding and their strange nothing you need store is everything that's expensive is nothing but a treasure hunt away. This appealed to Willem's pirate looting side. Bastien had a tendency to hoard anything and everything and organized in a system of his own design. Willem was more specific with his looting. That said one can best bet Wild Will came home to Funkytown one day with the Resident Evil VRs for his horror movie watching household. He brought enough headsets for half the dolls to play and even modded them to fit smaller dolls heads. Of course, the Polly Pockets and action figure sized were still out of luck, but he tried to make them user friendly. It was one of his own favorite loots.

"Yes, and please." He was ready to go up and check out the dolls that were haunting his mind tonight. He knew he wasn't going to sleep well if he didn't go check on them. So, he led Figaro on up to Livvy's old apartment. Willem had over time even gotten the key to the front door to the place because he heard of Frank's people races for Feral. The reality was most didn't make it beyond the race and if they did, they weren't prepared for what Feral was. The zombies got them before they had a chance to settle in, but on the off chance someone was a tough cookie that survived the Feral trials he wanted to keep this one space safe. So, he'd be seen pulling out a key of his own and unlocking her apartment as if it was his own. It wasn't a difficult item to acquire when the Landlord's office was abandoned.

"This is it." He knew Figaro wanted to rummage her uncle's belongings, but he still walked back to Livvy's room first.

"Her room is back here."

The shelving unit he made that Livvy never saw would be there, installed, and covered neatly in her collection of dolls and figurines. They were all lined up with care and placed at aesthetically pleasing angles.

He reached in for the mermaid first and sat on the edge of her bed. "I love this one." He said before kicking off the portion of his costume that made his feet look like hooves. They were getting uncomfortable, and it was a show he was making himself comfortable and intended to stay for a while. He was in no rush.

He took a dust cloth that was sitting off on a side table and wiped it off. It was still sitting there from last time he'd been in along with some Windex and dust spray. He intended to wipe down the shelves and tend to each one like he always did.

"She loved this one." He added. The Livvy Mermaid. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he enjoyed letting the memories whirl around his head as he touched each one that were living in boxes before he pulled them out, like a collector too afraid to open them up afraid of them losing value instead of enjoying them. The only difference was he knew that wasn't why she kept them in the box. Willem always saw Livvy as another little giant too busy trying to be what she wasn't or who she thought others needed her to be to enjoy who she was. That's why he knew those dolls were loved even shoved in the back of a closet in boxes instead of given away, donated, or sold off. It was thoughts like that which Livvy never quite knew or understood about Willem because they never dwelled long on depths of each other, but it was still thoughts like that which kept Willem attached. It was too close to home.

"Every now and again I think about bringing them all back to Funkytown, but I think they'll worry they might miss her if she comes back." He'd say as if they were actually alive and had thoughts and feelings even all of these didn't have any of the Geppetto magic on them. Willem believed he understood all the feelings of dolls even when they didn't.

"They don't get too lonely. They have each other." He let Figaro know in case they were worried. It had been a worry of his.

He looked more at peace in there than at the ball. "You don't have to sit here while I tidy them. You can go exploring like you wanted. I can meet you in there when I'm done if you want?" He had a feeling Figaro would get bored watching him dust the figurines and shelves and fluff the dolls.

“I am feeling pretty jolly,” Figaro admitted. Seeing their father was bittersweet but there was a lot of good to take away from that. He was watching over them. And he was proud. The ghosts of their Merry Men friends stuck around. There wasn’t much reason to not be jolly.

“I think I’d make a sick Larry,” Figaro hummed as they careened the bus down the mountain road. “Hey Iorek, you wanna be Gary?”

The bear let out a sound that sounded half-whine, half yawn. Figaro looked over their shoulder at him.

“Mrs. Puff? You want to be Mrs goddamn Puff?” They said, with wide eyes. “Damn. I didn’t know you wanted to go for sex appeal. Let’s fuckin do it.”

They nodded, not having much of an opinion either way of whether Livvy was still going to be active in their lives or not. “Hey, she’s alive though, that’s something,” They said. Not a lot of people were these days. “So there’s a chance that you’ll be able to see her again.”

Looking on the bright side wasn’t always their forte but when it came to Will? Goddamn, they really wanted him to be happy. Even if it was with someone like Livvy. That girl had made him smile, while also being frustrating at the same time. Messy - but at least he was showing his teeth.

“You’re right about that, I miss meeting people,” Figaro said, eyes on the road, their voice actually being serious. “Nothing against our friends obviously but - yeah. Variety in the spice of life and we’re not getting that. I’m growing sick of paprika, I want some chile.”

They didn’t mean this romantically, obviously, but they were a social being. There was nothing shy about Figaro. They’d just pop in and make themselves at home, that’s how they made a lot of their friends. And either they gott rejected, or they were invited in as if they had always been there. Meeting Flotsam, as if they had been instant best friends the moment that they met. The high school cafeteria table where they sat, despite not really talking to Arthur and Lance, boom, as if they had been sitting together since kindergarden. And then inviting Willem over to live with them despite only having spoken for a couple of days. They tested that chemistry with a lot of people. And now there wasn’t anyone to pop up on.

Figaro agreed though. Willem did need a certain kind of chaos in his life. “Maybe she’ll surprise ya one day,” They offered. Granted, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely that Delta was ever going to invite in someone like Livvy, a human that didn’t offer that much to her at all. Not without killing her or something similar. But regardless. Stranger things have happened.

They chuckled as they heard Willem sing and joined in with the tune. “-in the closet, that’s Hansel, he’s a bit shy so don’t scream too much!”

They parked up by the playground and looked out the windshield at the building. This area didn’t get much upkeep in Feral. Willem was the only one who really ever came to it. Old blood - once a bright red but now a brick-brown, blended into the walls, and a few bodies still lay around, decomposing. Figaro grabbed the Dragon-Fruit Little Tree air freshener from the mirror and wrapped it around their wrist. “Man, I hate the smell of the dead in the morning,” They sighed.

The bodies didn’t smell too much. It was mostly just bones and a bit of ooze. Being left out in the elements like the sun and the rain definitely had their effects. But they took a big whiff of the air freshener before daring to step outside.

It was still dark, the sky only lightening slightly, as they approached the building. It seemed so desolate. It didn’t need the Frank and Delta treatment to be spooky. “Why am I getting REC vibes? Quarantine? I wish I had a machete.”

That’s when they spotted something glistening. “Oh hey, a dead cop. Oooooh, hey, a dead cop’s gun!” They said, going towards it and took it out of the corpse’s fingerbones. “Now we’re going Resident Evil, baby. Let’s go hang out with some cool dolls.”

[billsbabydoll]

Hello, I have a question if you will make a fluffy story for Tom Kaulitz (2010 era) when he is jealous of one of your boy best friends

-contains:FLUFF!

-summary:request!!!

-WARNINGS: jealousy, reader is annoyingly clueless, anonymous was very bland so i took some creative liberties so im very sorry if this is complete shit.

-notes:TYSM for 300+ followers i love and adore you all so so much <333

“yeahh then luke started tickling me and it hurt so bad, i swear he’s such a little prick!”

you’ve been babbling about your day with your “boy bestfriend” to tom for what seemed like forever by now, tom just remained quiet and gave a few nods as you continued to carry on, his knees bouncing up and down,

“ugh i’ve been rambling haven’t i? sorry..” you quickly apologized but once you looked over, you were met with his visibly uncomfortable expression.

“no no it’s okay, it’s just-” he nervously stammered, his head immediately darting down to look towards the ground, avoiding any sort of eye contact.

you chuckle, clicking your teeth before placing your palm on his thigh, his cheeks now slightly flushed. he lifts his head up again, your eyes already staring at him.

“just what tom?”

“y/n don’t look at me like that.”

“why not?”

“cause then it makes me do stuff like this.”

suddenly a pair of hands come up to cup your face, pulling and bringing you closer,

both your eyes close, his lips softly press against yours before he quickly lets you go, both of your eyes blink open agin.

“i hate hearing you talk about him, he’s such a fucking loser the biggest loser really. every time you mention how nice or funny luke is; i fight the urge to kick his ass, i fight the urge to punch his teeth out, i fight the urge to kiss his name out of your mouth.” he whispered, his voice timid and quiet.

you and tom have only ever been friends, you never sensed any sort of tension between luke and tom. well at least from your very oblivious perspective, but if only you knew the constant war those two battled.

“ohh cmon tom, why didn’t you just say something?” you questioned, not knowing weather to be confused or surprised, i mean tom was also your friend too.

“not that is luke any competition!”

pfftt

“just wanted to make sure you were mine first.” he cockily answered.

you lightly giggle at his comment, your lips curling into a gentle smile.

“so now im ‘yours’ huh?”

“yeah now your definitely mine.”

[ceoofglytchell]

Butterfly II

| Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary: After getting caught by your mother and an argument that you will still remember in years to come, Rhaenyra chooses to leave the Red Keep again to ensure the safety of her sons, leaving her daughter behind, believing you to be the only one safe for the time being. However, in the night tragedy strikes and years of plotting come to a fulfilling conclusion in the middle of the Dragonpit and your love is once again put to the test.
Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader 
Word count: 6118 words (bear with me pls)
Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong features, Reader is Rhaenyra’s and Harwin’s second child, minor character deaths, brief hurt/comfort, a lot of Hightower plotting and scheming, canon divergence, mentions of intimacy, no mention of Y/N 
Notes: Alright now, I think I am going to make this into a series. Please, let me know if you would be interested in reading more of this pairing. Enjoy 💛

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

"How could this happen?!" cried Princess Rhaenyra in horror as she paced the entrance to her only daughter's chambers.

You were still sitting in bed, the sheets wrapped around your body to hide your bare skin from the eyes of your mother and the queen, who had also rushed through the door a few seconds ago. Aegon sat next to you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist while the sheets hid the lower half of his body.

You had both been sleeping peacefully, snuggled up together, when a maid had apparently entered the chambers and found the princess in the arms of the eldest prince - a scandal in her eyes and in those of the gods.

Since then, your chambers have become the scene of a heated argument in which the two older women shouted at each other and your lover and uncle held you close to him because he would not let you out of his sight for even a second. Never again. Not after everything that had happened yesterday. You had been separated for six years and now you had made sure that you could never be separated again.

You had taken your fate into your own hands for once.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because your daughter couldn't stop fluttering her eyelashes at my son!" argued Queen Alicent, pointing an accusing finger at you, whereupon you turned your head slightly to the side, hiding your face in your lover's silver hair.

"Pardon me? It is more likely that your son couldn't stop pining after my daughter! Seducing her and corrupting her!" countered Rhaenyra, getting louder and louder with every word she spoke.

"Corrupting her? We both know she always was."

A cold shiver ran down your spine and Aegon immediately held you tighter when that one topic suddenly came up. That one topic that no one in the family talked about, even though everyone knew about it. It was an unspoken truth, something that everyone knew, even the people of the small folk.

"Careful. One more word, Alicent. One word," the princess threatened, taking a small step toward her former friend, but instead of affection, there was nothing but loathing in her own violet eyes.

"Rhaenyra..." The queen walked a few steps across the room, her gaze fixed on the floor beneath her feet. She shook her head as if she were waging war in her own mind, and she was. You were a bastard, unworthy of her son, and yet he seemed to love you as if you were made for each other. "They will have to marry."

A brief glimmer of hope appeared within Aegon and he looked at his mother with wide, pleading eyes, but his gaze - vulnerable and weak - only made her angrier.

His half-sister immediately shook her head as if she had made this decision years ago, and indeed she had. Since the birth of her daughter, she had sworn that she would protect you and do everything she could to make you happy, but she certainly had not expected you to choose him.

Just as Viserys had once been unhappy with her and Daemon, she was now angry with you and Aegon. It was the same situation, only years later, but even though she should have understood it better than anyone, she did not want to understand it. She did not want her daughter to find happiness with Alicent's son. Not when she was sure that the Hightowers were secretly planning to usurp the throne and put the boy on it. She could not and would not allow this to happen.

"No, they won't. I will betroth her, today, and we will pretend that none of this ever happened."

"Mother!" you protested immediately, your uncle having to hold you back from jumping up, as you were both still bare beneath the sheets.

"Mother, please, I beg you. He did not force himself on me or seduce me in any way. I wanted it. I wanted it because- because I love him."

For a moment, your chambers were enveloped in silence, an uncomfortable and long silence that felt like half an eternity, although it was only a few seconds, a minute at most.

"Oh, the gods punish me!" the queen said, wiping her face with a hand while your mother stared at the ground. Both women realized that this was not something they could hide or sweep under the carpet. It would become an open secret, as would the fact that you and your brothers were not Laenor's children.

“You are going to get married. As soon as possible and preferably by the end of this moon," Rhaneyra said firmly instead, whereupon she turned around and rushed out the door without hesitation, as if she could no longer bear to look at you, the spitting image of now two obvious disgraces.

The Green Queen, however, stayed.

For a moment the room was shrouded in silence and none of you three said a word, only your steady breathing could be heard. But then Aegon spoke up again: "I told you, we will survive somehow."

In less than a second, Alicent was standing in front of the bed and grabbing her son's face with one hand, pressing her fingers into his pale cheeks and an expression of pure anger and incomprehension in her eyes.

Your lover flinched and you too let out a slight gasp of shock, but otherwise you remained silent because you were too afraid that another word from you would make the older woman even angrier than she already was and you did not want her to hurt him under any circumstances. Never.

"I already told you then to stay away from her. Why, Aegon? Why do you always defy me? Tell me, why can you not be more like Aemond, have his sense of duty and his virtue? Of all my children you are the biggest disappointment."

Tears formed in Aegon's eyes and you could feel him starting to tremble. His cheeks were red and you could see him trying hard not to cry. What you did not know, however, was that he was holding back because of you. He had already sworn back then that he would always be strong for you and he would be now too.

"Answer me!" the queen demanded and pressed her fingers deeper into his soft cheeks, her sharp nails leaving small crescent-shaped marks in his flesh.

You saw the first tear fall and you could not bear it any longer. Instinctively, your delicate hand turned around the woman's wrist and you looked at her with a fire in your eyes that she knew all too well from your own mother. The dragon's blood was in your veins and for a moment the innocent butterfly turned into a bloodthirsty predator.

"Let him go, Your Grace," you said in a voice that Aegon did not recognize from you. Your tone was calm and measured, but your undertone dripped with anger and a silent threat that if she did not leave him now, she would awaken something that could never be put to sleep again.

Reminded of a time long gone, a time when she was carefree and unmarried, happy, Alicent Hightower released her grip from her son's face and took a step back from the bed. You were still a bastard, but you were definitely Rhaenyra's daughter too. You had the same fire, the same wildness that she had when she was younger. For some reason, she hated you even more now. She was so bound by her duty that she would never have broken a rule to prove her love for a man. Aegon and you were different, you knew no duty, no sense of honor, and you deserved no mercy under the gods' eyes. But mayhaps you deserved each other.

The prince breathed a sigh of relief, but you could feel him still shaking like a branch in the wind.

The queen breathed angrily, turned and hurried out of the chambers, the door slamming loudly behind her. The room was wrapped in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, as both of your minds were racing with the words spoken. You would marry.

"Thank you," Aegon whispered softly, looking to the side where you were sitting, but your eyes had already been on him, on the small red marks his mother's nails had left on his skin. You could not help but wonder how many times that had happened in the years when you could not be there for him. What else she had done. She may not have hit him today, but you knew she had. Otto as well, perhaps even worse.

"You are welcome, my love. I don't know what I would have done if she had not left. I would have... I would have-"

"Shh, butterfly. Don't worry about me. I am used to my mother's anger, but you should not have seen that." He tried to calm you and put his arm around your shoulders again, whereupon you buried your face in his curls.

His scent filled your senses and for a moment you could forget everything that had happened so far and you were reminded of a time many years ago when you were both young and believed in foolish dreams. These dreams would now come true, finally true. It took so long, but now no one would ever be able to tear you apart again. Never again.

"We will marry."

Your uncle pressed a kiss to your head and breathed in the sweet scent of your brown hair, which had always been a sign of your beauty. You did not need silver hair or violet eyes to be a Targaryen. You simply were, and he loved you more than anything else.

"Yes, we will. We will."

You did not get a chance to say farewell to your mother or your brothers as they mounted their dragons to fly back to Dragonstone. It was not that you did not want to, but you had other things to do. Better things.

Aegon and you were far too busy inaugurating your chambers and his. In bed, he had you lying on your back beneath him once more, his hips moving rapidly and desperately against yours, your fingers entwined with his as your loud moans and his deep grunts filled the chambers. Then, after you had eaten breakfast, he had pressed you against the hard wooden top of the table and disappeared beneath the soft fabric of your nightgown, taking up space between your warm thighs as he showed you how talented his tongue was.

At sunset, you sat on his lap with his face buried between your breasts, and he taught you to ride him like you ride your dragon. The evening ended with you lying on the soft fur next to the lit fire, his hand buried in your long hair while you slowly and intimately satisfied him with your mouth, which elicited noises from him that made you press your thighs together again, searching for that delicious friction that would take her to bliss eventually.

You had never been happier in your entire life than with him by your side and when he held you close to him that night, he knew that he would do everything in his power to never lose you again. Never again.

You had never slept as peacefully and comfortably as that night. Your future husband held you in his arms while your head rested on his chest and you listened to his steady heartbeat and felt safe and protected in his warmth.

What none of you knew, however, was that not far from your bedchamber, Alicent and Otto Hightower were already plotting new intrigues, because the queen had been awakened in the middle of the night by her chambermaid with news that had shaken her to the core - the king is dead.

King Viserys closed his eyes for the last time and only his wife knew his last words, his wish that Aegon should now follow him on the Iron Throne instead of Rhaenyra.

And who was she to contradict his last wish?

The council meeting took place in the early hours of the morning behind closed doors. The future king was unaware of the whole thing, as was half of the castle. Only the Small Council knew of the death of their ruler and of the seriousness of the situation they now had to learn to deal with.

Ser Criston Cole murdered Lord Beesbury in the name of his queen, the woman he was devoted to, and the leader of the Kingsguard resigned from his post. When the sun crossed Visenya's hill, all servants and maids were taken to the dungeons and the king's chambers were sealed.

You woke up alone in the bed in your lover's chambers. Sleepy and still tired, you sat up on the soft mattress and let your gaze wander around the rooms. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Where was Aegon?

Your hand slid to the side and you ran your palm over the fabric only to notice that it was cold, which meant that you had been sleeping alone for some time. You did not understand. He had promised you that you would have breakfast in the garden in the morning and that he might take you to see Sunfyre. After all, you had not seen the golden beast for six years and you and Silverwing missed the dragon. You might have flown together for a few hours.

Yawning, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes before slowly getting out of bed. A soft gasp escaped you as your thighs still ached a little from yesterday's activities, but it was a sweet pain that you were willing to endure.

You reached for your thin white nightgown that still rested on the floor, and as you pulled it on and wrapped your naked body in cloth again, you noticed that Aegon's clothes were missing.

His breeches, his tunic and doublet, his rings and chains, everything was gone. Perhaps he had already left for breakfast?

However, the man usually slept like a stone and nothing but you could wake him. Where could he be?

A bad feeling spread in the pit of your stomach and you got the feeling that something was very wrong.

"Aegon? My love, are you there?" you asked just to make sure, because it could be that he was on the balcony or sitting in front of the fireplace, but you got no answer.

You slowly limped towards the door, not thinking about the fact that you were only wearing your thin nightgown or that your long brown hair was flowing wild and disheveled down your back. None of that mattered to you, because all you wanted was to have your beloved prince by your side again.

Your delicate hand closed around the golden doorknob, but when you tried to open the door you noticed that it would not move. It was locked. You leaned against the door with all your weight and began to shake the knob wildly, your breathing becoming more and more panicked.

You were locked in. Why in the Seven Hells were you locked in?

"Hello? Hello! Is someone there?! As princess, I command this door to be opened now!"

You were met with nothing but silence and a feeling of hopelessness slowly formed in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly the chambers felt cold and empty, when only the evening before they had been filled with passion and love.

"Oh, Aegon... where are you?" you whispered quietly and leaned your pale forehead against the wood the door was made of.

Suddenly you heard a loud crash and many screams in the distance. As fast as your feet could carry you, you ran to the nearest window and what you saw made your breath catch and your eyes widen.

Meleys, the Red Queen, flew out of the dragon pit and towards the sea as fast as her wings could carry her. Her destination was probably Dragonstone - where your mother and brothers were.

Smoke rose from the dragon pit and people ran panicked through the streets back to their homes. Something was going on there, something important.

You slowly sat down on the windowsill and buried your face in your hands. Yesterday had been such a wonderful day, such a wonderful evening, and now there was nothing but confusion inside you. Your lover was gone, your doors were locked, no one responded to your cries for help and Rhaenys seemed to have fled as fast as she could.

An hour later, when the sun was at its highest in the sky, you suddenly heard the sound of your doors being unlocked.

You immediately jumped up from your seat by the window and ran to the door, but you had not expected what would happened next.

Aegon came running through the door, the Conqueror's crown on his head, his sword at his hip, and she had never seen him wear such elaborately embroidered clothes before. Dried tears still glistened on his cheeks and his eyes were cast to the floor as if he could not bear looking at you.

Shame was eating him alive.

His name escaped you in a soft whisper and you watched as he began to tremble and new tears formed in his violet eyes.

"They made me king," he explained quietly, and if he had spoken just a little louder, his voice would have broken.

"What? No... no, you are jesting." Your words were a desperate attempt to avoid facing the truth, but you knew it was true. He wore all the symbols of the Conqueror on his body. The symbols of a man he could not care less about. It could not be a jest.

"I-I just wanted to get you some grapes this morning and-and then," the tears were now flowing freely down his cheeks and he doubled over as sobs escaped him as if they were being forced out of him, "Cole found me and mother… mother said the time had come."

Before you could react, he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your hair, feeling the cold surface of the crown press against his neck.

"Father is dead."

A cold shiver ran down your spine because you knew it was true. It explained why your doors were locked, why no one answered you, and why Rhaenys had fled on Meleys. King Viserys the Peaceful was dead and now his firstborn son, your Aegon, was the next in line to sit on the Iron Throne.

“But what about my mother?” you voiced your thoughts out loud, and he found himself flinching.

"My mother said father had changed his mind. His last words... he said I should follow him on the throne."

Slowly you leaned back so you could look him in the eyes to see if he was telling the truth. His purple eyes were red from all the tears he had already shed, but you could also see that he was being honest.

There was a possibility Alicent may have lied, but he was telling her what he believed to be true. He was being honest.

"Do you think she was telling the truth?" you asked him quietly, cupping his face with your hands so that he had to look you in the eyes and couldn't look away.

Your lover shrugged and you could see his lower lip start to tremble as more pearly tears flowed down his pale cheeks like water of a waterfall.

"She and my Grandsire have always wanted to see me on the throne. I cannot tell you, my love.”

His chambers were silent for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “Am I a usurper?”

It was a difficult question. In some eyes he would surely be seen as a usurper, a brother who stole the throne from his sister without even consulting her or seeking the opinion of a greater council. On the other hand, there will be just as many voices saying that Aegon was the true heir, since he was Viserys' first male son and thus continued the tradition of House Targaryen.

You could not and would not answer that question.

All you knew was that you loved this man and that you knew that everything would change now. Nothing would be the same as it had been the day before.

Suddenly the door to the chambers opened and you looked up to see Ser Criston crossing the threshold. A serious expression darkened his features as he saw Aegon's face buried in your shoulder and how he held himself as if you were the last anchor that bound him to this world.

"You are expected in the throne room, Your Grace," said the White Cloak, bowing slightly.

The bow, the title, it made you understand that this was not just a terrible nightmare, but the truth. Your beloved was king. And you? The bastard he loved.

"Must I?" the young king murmured into the fabric of your dress, but the knight seemed to have heard him.

"There are some oaths that must be renewed, my king," the older man explained, motioning for him to follow him.

The silver-haired man sniffed and wiped his tear-stained face on his sleeve once, so as not to show any weakness to the lords of the court. He could not be weak. Not anymore. Never again.

Aegon followed Ser Criston out of the chambers, but you were not alone for long.

Maybe two or three minutes later, some maids ran in, curtsied, and quickly began to move you toward your dressing table, which made you look at them confused. You did not know what was going on, nor why they wanted to help you dress now and not two hours ago.

The women began to undo the strings on the back of your nightgown, and you just wished you had not looked to the side at that moment. Another maid had come in, but this one was holding a richly embroidered, beautiful green dress in her arms. Not red, not purple, not pink, but green. The color of the Hightowers. His color.

The fabric fell to the floor and you could hear the women's surprised gasps when they saw the red marks on your neck and hips. Heat rose in your cheeks because you knew that they knew what you and your lover had done last night. And during the day as well.

"By the Seven. That is not appropriate, young lady," said an older woman, whereupon you shook your head slightly. However, you could not think of anything other than Aegon and that green dress that you were going to get dressed in. But why? Why now?

The maids got you ready with a speed that surprised you. In no time at all they had brushed your hair and woven small pearls and gold threads into the brown curls. They also dabbed the juice of a strawberry on your lips so that your mouth appeared even redder than it already was naturally. There was something strange about this situation.

The whole day was surreal.

"What is the meaning of this?" you asked one of them as they helped you tie the green fabric- much tighter than you were used to.

"We are forbidden to tell you that, Princess," replied one of the younger ones, who was just pushing one of the long, transparent sleeves over your arm.

You furrowed your eyebrows together as your gaze slid over your reflection in the mirror. Admittedly, you looked beautiful. The green dress clung tightly to your form and accentuated your feminine curves. It was not quite scandalous, but you knew that you would feel a few more pairs of eyes on you than usual. You may be petite and delicate, but you were certainly not without allure.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do we, Your Grace."

"Your Grace?" you repeated, astonished, and you no longer understood anything. Your head was empty. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Is she ready?" A biting voice suddenly interrupted the still quite calm atmosphere of the room. Alicent Hightower, dressed in a long dark green gown, a veil and a large silver necklace in the shape of the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven hanging around her neck, stood not far from you and looked at you with a look of pure scruples and resentment in her eyes.

"Yes, my queen," the servants answered in unison and looked down at the floor, but you didn't know whether it was with respect, awe or fear.

The Dowager Queen grabbed your arm roughly and began to pull you along with quick steps. The long corridors of the Red Keep seemed even colder and gloomy that day and you could swear your heart almost jumped out of your chest.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked her, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

"The throne room," she replied, curtly and coldly.

"Why?"

"Stop questioning me, girl," she said, gripping your arm even tighter, which made you whimper quietly. Even through the fabric of the dress you could feel her fingers pressing into your skin.

The large doors of the throne room opened in front of you and in that very moment you could feel all eyes turning to you, the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and the Dowager Queen of House Hightower. A murmur went through the crowd as the lords and ladies realized that you were dressed in an emerald green dress and that you were here, unfettered and uninjured, unconstrained and untouched.

The crowd parted and your eyes widened when you saw Aegon sitting on the Iron Throne, imposing and proud. The golden midday light fell through the windows behind the throne and enveloped the king in an almost angelic glow. He looked like he was made for this very place. A king as he would be honored in the history books.

In a way, it was even true that he was born for the throne. After all, he was the firstborn son of the king.

Otto Hightower's voice brought you out of your thoughts again: "And at the very end: The only daughter of Rhaenyra has come to swear eternal loyalty to our king under the eyes of the old gods and the new!"

Your lips parted and shock was written on your face as you finally understood what was happening here. Aegon looked down in shame because he could see that you knew. What they would ask of you could ruin everything. Your love, your bond, everything.

Your feet moved of their own accord as you approached the throne, whose shadow enveloped you. You could almost feel the executioner's sword hovering over your head, ready to strike.

At the steps of the throne, the queen pressed your shoulder, indicating that it was now time to kneel and swear your oath. The oath for your one, true king.

You had no choice. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were on you, Aegon was staring at you and you feared what would happen if you refused and swore allegiance to your mother instead. You couldn't do it. You were weak and your heart belonged entirely to Aegon. You were not blinded by love, but chained by it.

Your knees hit the hard stone floor of the hall and you mourned the pristine fabric of the dress that would now be soiled.

The silence in the throne room was oppressive and only the deep, pleading look of your lover saved you from bursting into tears of despair.

"In the name of House Velaryon and my mother the Princess, I swear to you, King Aegon, second of your name, eternal loyalty and faithfulness. I wish to live and remain by your side, to fight and die for you. You are the true heir to the Iron Throne and I am a loyal servant of the crown, of you."

Your sweet voice was music to Aegon's ears and his heart pounded strongly in his chest with every word that left your lips. He was aware of the fact that your oath of loyalty was a lie and that you only recited it because circumstances forced you to, but a small part of him wished you would truly see him as the true king.

You would. At some point.

"I, King Aegon of House Targaryen, accept your oath and dare to go one step further. Every king needs a wife who supports him and stands by him loyally, just as my mother had been with my father for years. Now I need someone similar at my side."

He rose from his throne and looked down at you kneeling before him and looking at him with large, uncertain eyes. A small part of him could get used to this image.

"In our childhood, dear niece, you always stood by me, gave me your trust and your heart, and now I ask for your hand."

A loud murmur went around the crowd and it was obvious that some of the lords thought this was a hasty, unwise decision.

None of them knew that you had already given yourself to him entirely and that your souls and bodies had already become one. You were already his and after today, no one could take you away from him. He just wished the circumstances had been better. He wanted you, he loved you, but - impulsive as he usually was - he had not expected your marriage to turn out like this.

Certainly not on the same day that he was forced to become something he never wanted. How bittersweet it was. He got something he never wanted, but he also got what he always wanted - you.

"Be my wife, my queen. Butterfly, I-"

"What is your decision?" his grandfather, the Hand, interrupted him quickly before he could say something wrong that would betray his insecurity as a ruler.

For a moment, the throne room was enveloped in a deafening silence. All eyes were on you and you could feel half of the room thinking this was a good idea, one that could save the realm from being split, and the others immediately regretting their renewed oaths.

Like him, you had never wanted the throne. It had never interested you and you had known from a young age that it would not be yours. But now your lover was sitting on it and you knew you could not leave him alone.

Oh, just what would you not do for love?

"Yes," your voice was quiet, but because of the silence that had spread in the throne room, everyone heard you immediately.

A wide smile spread across Aegon's lips and you could see that he was genuinely happy with your decision. To Otto and Alicent, this seemed a cleverly devised move, but to the young king, it was so much more than that. To him, you were not just a tool in a war that was slowly brewing on the horizon, you were his everything. You were the sun that brightened his days, that gave him warmth and strength, you were his moon that breathed light into the darkness of his soul, but most importantly, you were the sole owner of the key to his heart.

His beloved little butterfly.

Aegon looked to the side where an older man in a finely embroidered white robe held a velvet pillow in his hands, on which lay a delicate, fine crown. It was golden and jagged at the ends, as if it were rays of sunlight reaching out into the sky, and in the middle were a pearl on either side and an emerald in the middle. It was a crown fit for a queen.

The man, a High Septon, handed him the crown with a nod of approval, which in the same sense meant that this union had the blessing of the gods. It was an unconventional wedding, yes, but special circumstances called for special measures. Nonetheless, he had always imagined your wedding to be different. More peaceful and actually far away from King's Landing and the crown.

Now it was just another shattered dream that he could mourn.

He took the crown as if it were as fragile as glass. Just as you were a contrast to him, your crown was a contrast to the Conqueror's that now rested on his head.

Carefully and with a gentleness that no one else knew from him except you, he placed the crown on your hair, watching you try not to cry. He could understand that. Perhaps he understood it better than anyone else.

The walk to his own coronation that morning had been filled with the same feeling as if the executioner was already sharpening his axe or a rope that was already being tied. The crown was a death sentence.

"I am yours and you are mine, my queen," he said so that the lords and ladies present in the hall could hear, but at the same time there was a warmth in his eyes that was meant only for you.

He held out his hand to you. You took it.

"I am yours and and you are mine, my king."

Polite applause echoed through the throne room and even the Dowager Queen could not help but smile when she saw her firstborn lean towards you and gently press a kiss to your cheek. In her eyes, you might not deserve this title and she did not have any sympathy towards you, but this wedding was a long-planned move by Alicent and Otto Hightower after they had realized that you two could not be separated. You always found each other like a moth a light.

The advantage of a wedding was that you could no longer escape. You belonged to him now. A prisoner, rather than a queen, and the Blacks would know this. They would not be able to simply attack without risking harm to their most precious treasure.

Because the marriage and coronation were quite sudden, the festivities were non existent. The nobles who had renewed their oaths of loyalty had left and you and Aegon had returned to his chambers together - well, your chambers.

The silence after the door closed behind you was deafening and for a moment neither he nor you spoke a single word.

The crowns lay heavy on both of your heads and all you wanted to do was cry bitterly. He felt very much the same.

Aegon took the crown and laid it roughly on a wooden dresser. The black iron already had so many nicks that he didn't care if it had one more. He wanted to throw it off the balcony and hope it broke on impact on the ground.

"I'm sorry, butterfly. I'm so sorry," he whispered, bracing himself with his hands on the wooden edges of the dresser, his head facing the floor as shame flooded through him.

Your heart broke at the sight and you could feel a dam breaking inside you and the first tears streaming down your pale, ivory cheeks. As quickly as you could, you wrapped your arms around his middle and leaned your head against his back.

You were now trapped in a cage, trapped with him, and despite all of that, despite the hatred that was woven deep into your family bond, you loved him dearly and more than anything else.

This realization was the last straw for him and a jolt ran through him as he too began to cry bitterly and tremble like a leaf on a branch during a storm.

Without hesitation, he turned around, wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your hair, inhaling your familiar scent and wetting the strands with salty tears.

Your delicate crown fell from your head and landed with a dull thud on the stone floor of the Red Keep. Neither you nor he cared.

All you cared about right now was giving each other comfort and showing love.

Over and over he mumbled apologies into your hair and you whispered back that it was alright, that he hadn't made the decision and that you were grateful to be his wife.

You spent the night of your wedding holding each other and offering comfort, hoping that everything would turn out well and that Rhaenyra would somehow accept these new developments and come to terms with the fact that her only daughter was now queen.

You would never know the 'what if', because it was in this very night that the first act of the war was being carried out.

Prince Aemond had flown to Storm's End to secure a marriage alliance with one of the Baratheon girls, but he came back not as a betrothed, but as a kinslayer.

War, the Dance of Dragons, was now inevitable.

And you and Aegon found yourself in the middle of it.

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

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

63 and Stobin please!

and when I crawl out in the morning (can I stay inside your head?)

Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley || ~2k || Implied/Reference Child Abuse || Minor Character Death || Good Friend Robin Buckley || Blood and Gore || Off-screen Violence

Robin’s sitting atop the kitchen counter, all the lights off aside from the one above the stove, just enough to cast ominous shadows against the cupboards. Her parents have been asleep for hours, but something’s keeping her up—a restlessness running through her, making her legs twitch, heels clacking against the cupboard doors noisily.

She’s antsy, toes flexing with the desire to run. She recognizes the feeling from being trapped beneath Starcourt, from flinging fireworks at a monster straight from a little kid’s nightmares.

There’d been something to do then, something to run toward, or flee from. She’s not sure what to do with that same urge at one in the morning alone in her kitchen.

The question is answered when the phone rings. Her hand moves immediately, reaching behind herself to snatch it off the wall without having to move from her perch atop the counter, so fast it doesn’t even finish its first ring.

“Hello?” she says down the open line.

Her blood courses through her veins as she listens to the steady, crackling breathing, phone pressed hard enough to the side of her face that it hurts.

She’s just about to say hello again, hoping the person on the other side of the line will finally say something back, but then Steve’s voice comes through, strangely flat as he asks, “can you come over?”

This happens a lot late at night, Steve calling her for one reason or another. Sometimes it’s nightmares, or he’s just bored, or he misses her too much to function. She comes over, always, but that’s not what he says, how he asks.

He should be saying, “can I pick you up?” with only his tone of voice giving away what he needs. But, that’s not what he asked, and he’s got no tone of voice at all.

“Be there in five,” she says, not waiting for a response before she hangs up the phone, barely pausing to shove her feet into the sneakers she’d left by the front door before bursting into the quiet of a night in the suburbs.

It’s an eight minute bike ride to Steve’s house from hers, but Robin’s got a heartbeat in her thighs, she’s pedaling so hard. There are no cars on the road, so she forgoes the bumpy sidewalk and rides in the middle of the street, her mom’s voice an easily ignored phantom chiding in the back of her head.

She never rides her bike at night, and as the shadows of branching trees creep across the pavement, illuminated by distant porch lights, she vows to never, ever do it again.

But she knows, deep down in her sternum where Steve lives that if he calls, she’ll always come.

The spokes of her bike click as she coasts it all the way up Steve’s driveway, not even bothering to hit the brakes as she jumps up and lets it drop carelessly right up against the house. It’s still clattering against the pavement as she flings open his front door without a knock.

“Steve?” she calls, voice ragged with exertion and all the fear crawling up her throat. “Where are you?”

In contrast to her pitchy tone, Steve’s is without inflection as he says, “in the kitchen,” quiet enough that if the house wasn’t silent, she might not have heard it at all.

Robin goes to take off her shoes to line them up neatly beside the rest, but there, right by Steve’s pristine white tennis shoes, are a pair of polished dress shoes, too big to ever belong to Steve.

She doesn’t bother taking her own off, that same instinct that had kept her awake and by the phone so late at night urging her to keep them on.

The light in the Harrington’s kitchen has always been fluorescent, bright enough to reflect off the pristine white tiles, casting the entire space in stark relief.

The first thing she sees is Steve’s back. He’s sitting at one of the tall bar stools pushed up against the island counter. He’s in his own seat, her usual spot sitting vacant at his side. That’s where they sit when they’re eating meals too messy for the couch, neither of them fond of the giant, stuffy table situated in the dining room.

Steve’s not eating right now.

As she takes slow, measured steps toward him, she catches sight of his hands. They’re clasped together, grip tight enough that she can see the loose skin against his knuckles wrinkling up, cracking the drying blood coating them. She takes a few more steps, and his side profile comes into view, and there’s blood on his face, too, splattered against it like someone had scooped it up and flicked it at him.

Even his hair isn’t clean—red running through it, streaked like he’d run his bloody fingers through the strands. Or gotten a botched dye job at the salon.

She’s frozen, neither flight or fight taking over when there’s nothing to punch, nothing to run from, just Steve Harrington covered in enough blood that whatever wound he’s sustained must be fatal.

She should call someone; Robin never bothered to learn first aid.

But as she turns her gaze away from Steve, ready to rush to the phone, she catches sight of a socked foot, just barely poking out from behind the island. She stares at it, transfixed, waiting for it to move, even a twitch. It shows no signs of life.

It’s only as she starts walking again, circling the island to catch sight of whatever’s hidden behind it, that Steve comes back to life. “Robin?” Steve asks, and when she turns back toward him, his eyes are big in his skull, the blood flecked across his face drawing out the red of the vessels in his eyes. He looks small, suddenly, like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“It’ll be okay,” she says, staring into his bloodshot eyes.

She waits as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the nervous moment. Only once he nods does Robin turn back around and take the final few steps to round the counter and stare down at the body the foot belongs to.

That’s what it is now, a body. It’s slack, collapsed on the floor, pose peaceful enough that Robin might think it was sleeping, if not for all the chunks missing. It’s only as she looks at the vestiges of a suit the body’s wearing that she remembers the shoes aligned neatly beside Steve’s own at the front door.

They’d match perfectly with the dressed down suit she sees in front of her, if it wasn’t for the blood all over the button-up, still perfectly tucked into wrinkle-free pants, despite what must have been quite a struggle based on the way the white fabric’s shredded, hints of mincemeat poking through.

She’s never met the man, but this must be Mr. Harrington. He’d been alive last she’d heard, and now she can barely tell he’s a person at all. His face is almost gone, skull visible past the pulp that’s been made of him. He looks like the ground beef she sometimes picks up from the grocery store for her mom—not a man, just meat.

And as she stares down at the dead body, she’s terrified, suddenly, of what could have left those marks. Steve had told her about the Demogorgon that had burst through the Byers’ ceiling, the Demo-dogs that had circled him and the kids like they were the pack’s newest kill. He’d described claws, and teeth, and creatures designed to rend flesh from bone.

If a Demo-What’s-It had been the thing to kill Mr. Harrington, then they need to call the calvary, or it won’t just be Steve’s shitty dad laying dead and almost unrecognizable on the kitchen floor.

Her heart’s beating fast again, a frantic ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump beneath her ribcage as she tries to figure out who to call, what to do.

“I’m not sorry.” Steve’s deadened voice comes suddenly enough that Robin startles.

It’s as she’s turning around to face him that she sees it: there, dropped haphazardly in front of the sink is a baseball bat full of nails. There are bits of flesh stuck to the ends of the nails, blood coating the wood, new enough to still be dripping red.

The last time she’d seen it, it was beneath Steve’s bed.

She stares at it, and finally, things start to click into the place. There’s no Demo- anything, nothing to fight, no one to call, just a dead body, a murder weapon, and a mess to clean up.

“Okay,” she says, gaze still trained on the bat, but she’s barely looking at it anymore, eyes sightless as her mind ticks away, faster than she can keep up with. “Okay, okay, is your mom home?”

When she turns back toward Steve, the entire mess that is the Harrington’s kitchen now out of sight, Steve’s staring up at her with that same dead-eyed look. Robin doesn’t care, can’t when he’s alive in front of her, no monsters coming to kill him. That’s all that matters right now, him alive, and free, and by her side. They can deal with everything else later.

So, when he shakes his head—no witness, no second body—she’s hit with a relief so bone-deep, she almost collapses with it.

But there’s too much to do, so she shores up her legs and turns back around, sidestepping the spilled blood, and the body to get to the sink. Her shoe hits the bat and clatters noisily against the Harrington’s fancy tile. She ignores it to turn on the tap, wetting the dishrag until it’s dripping between her hands.

“Take off your clothes,” she says, walking around the whole mess again to get back to Steve’s side. He stays seated on the barstool, looking up at her with blank eyes she’d normally make fun of him for. “Good job doing this whole thing in the kitchen, dingus, but we’ve gotta get you clean.”

Steve stands up, still moving like a puppet, but it’s okay—Robin’s got all of his strings. He gets undressed without hesitation, movements mechanical as he strips off his t-shirt, pants, and underwear, letting each item drop to the tile until he’s standing in front of her, entirely naked.

She starts at the top of his head and works down, perfunctorily scrubbing at the blood caked into the hair on his head and chest alike. It flakes off to join the rest of the mess on the kitchen floor. It’s okay; she’ll clean it up.

Robin goes back to the sink to wet the rag twice, thorough enough to leave him pink but clean. He stays silent through the whole thing, barely twitching even when she scrubs hard enough that it must hurt. He’s quiet as she kneels between his legs, the only protest coming when she swipes at the bottom of his foot.

He twitches, entire body shaking as he yanks his foot free and puts it back down, keeping it hidden from her seeking fingers. She didn’t know he was ticklish.

“Can’t have you tracking any of this through the house,” Robin says, as she pries his foot back up off the ground. She’s relieved when he lets her. “I don’t know how to get blood out of white carpet.”

“I do,” Steve says, but he stays still as best he can while she wipes between his toes.

Once done, she stands up and stares at her best friend, pink and clean in all his naked glory.

“Go shower,” she says, dropping the rag onto the tile. It splats, full of water and all the blood she’d just rubbed off of his skin. “Wash your entire body three times, with a soap and rag. Hair, too.”

He still looks so far away, like even as he’s standing in front of her, she can’t quite reach him. She wants to touch so badly that it aches. She wants to wrap her arms around him, feel his heart beating against her own sternum, a constant thrum. Proof of life.

But there’s blood on her hands now, too, so she lets them drop to her sides, hanging uselessly as she asks, “can you do that for me?”

Steve nods, ready, always, to follow her directions. “What are you going to do?”

Robin turns away from him, the snapping of their locked gazes almost a physical sensation as she looks back toward the scene of the crime. She surveys the mess in the kitchen—the blood, the weapon, the body, and realizes there’s only one answer to his question.

“I’m going to fix it.”

And as Steve showers off the evidence of his crime, that’s exactly what she does.

I frankly Had To when I saw what song this was So! I hope you guys enjoy, and as always, shoutout to my beta @queenie-ofthe-void who managed to edit this literally minutes after I finished writing it. <3